apocalypsehowcomm | Log - Catch-all for July/August

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Log - Catch-all for July/August - Open

Who: Mercy Graves & OTA
When: Throughout July and August
Where: Around Gloucester
Summary: Mercy tries to find a new building to expand housing into, checks out the Wolfe family artifact, tries to buy liquor for Johnny's bar, and reunites with a loved one.
Warnings: breaking and entering/illegal activities, underage drinking

I. Housing
She'd made a promise to Steve that she would prioritize finding everyone new housing just as soon as they had settled the problems in Wolf Trap. Zyrian Steel is dead and another apocalypse has been averted. She intends to make good on her promise. There are logistics to attend to in moving those who wish it away from ADI while keeping them all together and sustainable. First and foremost is shelter.

There are more than a few buildings of questionable integrity in Bonnie's neighborhood, and this weeks' mission is to inspect them... with or without a realtor present. Mercy's enlisted the assistance of like-minded individuals or just strong-armed someone into joining her for the company.

"You keep a lookout. I'm just gonna... let us in." She pulls out what is very obviously a set of lockpicks as she stands with her fellow in the entryway to a derelict-looking apartment block that stands a few buildings down the street from Bonnie's.

II. Artifact
Mercy hasn't been back to the Hammond Castle since ADI's disastrous Thanksgiving party there last November. The news articles have caught her attention, though. Wolfe. Given the situations they've dealt with in Wolf Pen and Wolf Trap, it might be a complete coincidence, but it doesn't feel like it. "You think it's strange, something turning up for a family named Wolfe that's connected to Dogtown when we just been putting down a problem in Wolf Trap?" she asks her companion.

"I ain't one to suspect everything, but that seems like a coincidence that keeps happening."

III. Liquor
"Hey, there, friend! You know I'm 21, right?" Mercy directs the question at the first familiar face she sees in the liquor store, trying to flag them down. "Season's been turning more than a little while for me here. Just forgot that ID I got. Mind telling this fellow I'm old enough to buy?" She gestures to the vexed-looking cashier who's clearly been arguing with her for several minutes and getting nowhere. Mercy's all smiles as she stands over the cash of liquor on the counter, relentless in her cheer and attempts to wear the man down. She could probably use the assistance of someone who is actually 21 according to whatever identification they might have received from ADI.

IV. Wildcard
Hit me up for more specific plotting at

switalia!

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Winter and Yelena have been checking out houses lately, too, so this is hardly a stretch for him. He looks maybe vaguely amused at her lockpicks. "I didn't know you could do that," he comments.

He can do that, too. Which is why he's surprised he didn't know.

She offers a wink and a tap of her nose. "Gravekeepers is got all kinds of skills. What happens if someone dies in their home and it's all locked up?" Her tone is absolutely chipper. She has an explanation for her skills, even if that's not where its primary application has always been.

"Bet you got some skills that'd surprise me, too. Mr. Steve's mighty fine with drawing, even though he's a fighter. And Mr. Neal did some of the murals at the flophouse 'fore he went away. Didn't think that's where his real talents lay, but he could've been an artist, aye."

Did she really call him Mister Steve? That's actually kind of hilarious. Winter might have to toss that at Steve sometime, just to make him laugh.

"Well, I can pick locks, too," Winter says. "Though I did it to sneak in and kill people. So. Your reason is better."

"Well, we all got our jobs," she says, matter-of-factly. There's no sense in getting upset or squeamish about someone doing what they're good at. Some people need assassins and thieves. You just have to hope you're not interesting enough to warrant their attention. "And mine... is done!"

There's an audible click, and Mercy rises from her crouch with a triumphant smirk. As she does so, she opens the door for Bucky. "Let's see what fine real estate we got in store. If sir's in the market to be helping a girl out with her selections. Just hoping to get a place with plumping and electricity in decent shape, mostly."

The interior of the townhouse is dark and thick with dust and cobwebs. At least what can be seen from the entryway.

"Plumbing is more important. If you can't get good wiring to start with. I can fix that, I think," Winter offers, stepping inside in front of her. "Belova, Steve, and I are getting our own place, too. Pretty sure it'll be the one on Lark Street." Which isn't that far from here. It is going to require... lots of renovation. But it's pretty big for the price, mostly because there's a hole in the roof and foundation issues, and most of the windows are broken.

"Oh!" Mercy's voice turns hopeful. "You're not going too far from Ms. Bonnie's? That's good to hear." It's a comfort to know they're not planning to skip town like Neil and the people he'd taken with them.

Mercy steps in, as well, and pulls out a flashlight to help with the dimness. She closes the door behind herself to keep any other prying eyes from noticing their entry. The bottom floor is a fairly open concept look, and there's a door beneath the staircase leading up that she suspects might be a basement.

"Start up and work down to check things or down and up? Thinking a boiler'll be down in the basement, aye?"

"Start down and work up," Winter suggests. "If there are really bad foundation issues, you need to know that first. That's harder to fix and might take this building out of the running." No point checking the upstairs if the downstairs floor is sagging or has giant holes in it or the basement shows the supports rotting away.

With a smart nod, she starts toward the door under the stairs. There's a loud squeak as she twists the knob and pulls it open, and Mercy can't help a wince. "Oil for the hinges. Reckon that'll be a place to start for anything. Her torch shines down into a poorly-kept basement. There are some signs of water damage as they descend the rickety staircase. There's a scent of mold and decay.

"Mm... reckon this place's seen a flood or two with no one to tend it after. Thinking most places'll be like that, though. Other thing I'm worried about is if there's any... presence lurking around. Gloucester's ripe with hauntings and the like that ain't so fake as some here like to pretend." Some of the natives not part of ADI, anyway.

"Most of those things are entity related," Winter suggests, shining his own flashlight down into the basement. Mold is dangerous, he's read: black mold. He's not sure what the difference between regular mold and black mold is, though. "And hallucinations. Not actual ghosts. Besides, don't ghosts like bigger, older houses? Where someone died?" He has the mental image of a mansion with lots of spooky staircases and long hallways.

"We... don't got ghosts where I'm from," Mercy says with a shake of her head. She spots a fuse box and heads that way to see what sort of condition it's in. "Spirits go to their gods, and it wouldn't do to go letting your chosen go once they've passed to you. Is it different where you're from?"

She glances over, curious. "You ever met a ghost back home?"

"I was a ghost back home," Winter says, and it's so dry that he's clearly making a joke. "As in, I was hard to find and left no trace. No real ghosts though. There is no magic or afterlife or anything where I am from." That he knows about. There absolutely is, but HYDRA didn't know about it in order to train him in how to deal with it.

Mercy pauses, blinking over at Winter for a moment. He clarifies, though, and the question on the tip of her tongue fades. "No afterlife?" Her brows furrow. "That's... ain't that terrifying? Just having nothing to look forward to after this life's done?"

"Should it be?" Winter asks, tilting his head over at her. "The idea of just not existing anymore is. Kind of restful? I don't want it to happen, because I have people who would be sad or angry, and I still have things I want to do. But it doesn't scare me."

No, living is much more scary than dying. He has plenty of things he's terrified of, but no longer having a consciousness and a living body are not among them. Not like that.

She shakes her head. This feels... wrong. That's wrong? All of her teaching says that there's an afterlife and people go to it happily. Even the godless ones in the north have some sort of life after death, even if it's not made by a greater power's hand.

"I- No? You can't feel nothing if there's nothing after. But those who pass on go to a quiet and peaceful place. At least for them that follow Brother Earth. A kind and gentle meadow where food and water and rest all come easy. You don't gotta worry no more about anything."

"That sounds. Really boring, actually," Winter says with just a hint of apology. "If I'm going to keep going after I die. I'd want to still have a purpose. Something to do. How can anyone sit in a meadow and do nothing for forever?" Hell, Winter has a hard time sitting and doing nothing for a couple hours.

"Purpose is what we make it. Just 'cause you got no more physical wants don't mean you wouldn't say hello to everyone else. Greeting ancestors, hearing their stories, spending the time with them you never got to 'cause you were born in different times. Welcoming the new folks who come and sharing your stories. Building bonds across generations of people. And just doing what you like instead of what you have to. I don't think that's boring, personally."

Winter shakes his head. "Seeing friends is nice. But it's not enough. Not for me." Especially as he has absolutely no desire to see... a lot of the people in his past. Nope. None. "So I hope it's not your afterlife I wind up in. No offense."

"Well, it ain't like that you would, 'less you end up converting to Brother Earth's faith. That's what we get. What... they get." There's a momentary pause as she reminds herself that that's not her god anymore. She won't be going to see her ancestors. She'll go... wherever it is Pelor's followers go. "I can't rightly say I know where folk who don't believe in anything go. The way they talk about the godless folk in the northwest, seems like it's just suffering of the worst kind."

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Log - Catch-all for July/August - Open

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