think of me once in a while

[singmod]

THINK OF ME ONCE IN A WHILE

WHERE: The wilds of Milton.
CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A.

TAKE CARE

Off the heavily-trodden paths and steady trails there’s a lonely semi-circle of gnarled jack pines that twist and bend beside a rocky cliff face. Beside the pines are carefully-laid stone piles, three in all, one half-built with rocks stacked haphazardly in waiting beside it.

They vary in size, one as tall as a man, one smaller, one sort of leaning, as though the builders were more concerned in the act of laying the stones themselves than any kind of uniformity. In one cairn buried deep in the middle of the circle of stones is a scrap of graying fabric, in another a piece of paper too weathered to read, in another a silver fork.

The site itself looks worn and revered. It’s been used, but for what purpose is unclear. Marker, memorial, altar, grave - the cairns might be all things at once, or nothing so significant. There’s only one real clue: a small collection of plants, some wilted and some fresh, at the foot of each stone tower.

Comments

Cornelius Hickey | The Terror | ota!

[friendsfordinner]

Hickey is having the weirdest amount of deja vu as he methodically takes apart one of the cairns. Granted, he has a sneaky suspicion why he has that deja vu: this isn't the first time he's disassembled an impromptu grave, memorial, whatever in the middle of the wilderness. Still. It is a very odd feeling to shake, and he reassures himself with the fact that he's more than likely going to get another pair of boots or maybe a coat or some jewelry out of this.

What he gets out of it is a small scrap of cloth. Which is intensely odd—all that work for something so small? And how come he's still got that damned feeling of familiarity in the back of his head?

Hickey goes out to the cairns when nobody else is around but let's be real, it's going to take a while to disassemble one. He can be found in the wilds one afternoon to evening, disassembling a cairn (help a man out?) or staring at that scrap of cloth as if by staring at it, he'll unlock all the mysteries of the world.

One thing's for certain: he's a bit pissed at whoever built these things. Couldn't leave him a pair of gloves?

[thefifthchild]

It's late. When Damian patrols, he doesn't do it openly. There's a time and a place for that, and there's a time and a place for gracefully stalking the shadows and the treetops to spot how people act when nobody's watching them. When they think nobody's watching them.

He doesn't reveal himself properly, but he stalks closer to the sight of the grave, crossing his arms across his chest from his place in the trees. Helps conserve warmth.

What a miserable waste of time, he thinks. He doesn't voice it. Instead...

"Do you think that's a good idea, Hickey?"

There's no hint of what he's feeling in his voice. No condemnation. No judgement. No approval, certainly. It's a flat question. This can go terribly wrong, or he can find something very useful.

They've never spoken, but too many of the stupid pointless conflicts in this place have revolved around him. So it tends to come up.

[friendsfordinner]

He doesn't know if this is a good idea or not. That's why he's doing it. If it turns out to be a bad idea, oh well, that's one evening wasted. But if it turns out to be a good idea? Then it'll be worth it and then some. Hickey's not an idiot. Even if the boots or watch or whatever the hell he finds doesn't fit him, all he has to do is wait. There will be new arrivals, people who don't know anything about the dead. He can pawn it off on them.

That being said, his justification remains unsaid, in his mind. Because when he hears that voice, there's only one thing he knows he's going to say.

"Aurora's bringing in children? You sound like you're eight."

He looks over...only to spot no one. Great. Again. What is it with this place and creepy fuckers who like to skulk in the shadows? At least this creepy fucker has an excuse: kids are stupid. So Hickey will happily continue this conversation, right while he continues to loot the grave.

[thefifthchild]

From someone else, he might let that rile him up. Make him angry, make him take a firm stance against... graverobbing. He's not super happy about graverobbing as a concept but needs must and all that. They can't survive by being high and mighty about morality and laws, and anyone who doesn't understand that is a naive fool.

He does, however, laugh. It's a low sound, very dry. That wasn't a response to his question, Cornelius.

"What is it that you're even looking for? Clothes? Jewellery? Buried treasure?"

[friendsfordinner]

"Anything interesting," Hickey muses, as he continues to dismantle the cairn. "Rock formation like this doesn't spring up overnight. Someone placed it there. My guess is that they had something to hide. Whether it's a corpse, a memento, or something used for safe keeping, I'm not gonna know until I take it apart."

That being said, Hickey's grave-robbed before. Rob enough graves, poke around enough resting places, both official and impromptu, and you notice certain signs. Signs such as the fact that there's no hole here. This is a cairn, something built up to hide something. Jewellery maybe. But it wouldn't be a body. There's too big a chance for an animal to get at it if it's on the ground like this.

"Suspect it's a memento or safehouse, though. Graves're different."

[thefifthchild]

"True," Damian will concede the point. And drop down on the ground to approach properly. He doesn't muffle his movements this time. There is the distinct crunch of snow under his boots.

Jewellery wouldn't do anyone any good, it's just worthless cold metal. There's no use burying clothing. A supply cache? A letter? A time capsule? But why did it get put up so fast.

He's starting to see the logic in digging it up now. It gnaws at him, and he finds he can't actually let it go either.

Not that he'll help. He's still a dick.

"There's not much I can think of that would be of immediate use," Nothing that would be hidden away like this. "But it might tell us something, I suppose."

[notarat]

By the time Billy shows up, Hickey has definitely already managed to move the stones enough to get that scrap of cloth from it. After all, the only reason Billy is showing up at all is because it's starting to get late. It's not like it's strange for Hickey to stay out for a while, since he does the majority of the trapping for them and all, but it's definitely beyond the time he usually stays out by now due to the time it took to take apart that cairn.

And though Billy didn't exactly expect to come out here only to spot the other man looking at some piece of cloth, it's at least better than coming out here to find him torn apart by some wild animal, so he'll take it. Even though it still means he doesn't really know what did happen here, somewhere between the rocks that are all over the place now and the staring Hickey is doing.

So he continues to approach until he's closer to the other, speaking up with a:

".. Cornelius?"

[friendsfordinner]

Hickey's staring at the piece of fabric, odd expression on his face. He knows what this is. Somehow, he's not sure, he doesn't know why, but he recognizes this fabric. How he recognizes it and what the fuck it is, that's beyond him. But this is familiar. The fabric, the situation, the cairn, all of this is right on the tip of his tongue—

As he hears Billy say his name, it snaps Hickey out of his thoughts. He looks over at Billy before affixing a cheeky little smile on his face. "There's a face I like to see." Wait a moment. Hickey frowns before, "Shit, how late is it? How long've I been out?"

[notarat]

.. huh. Somewhere between the way Hickey seems to have to actively snap out of his thoughts there and the way the other doesn't even seem to actively realise the time, there's definitely something up. The trouble is that Billy truly can't tell whether this is just a Hickey thing or something about this place. It could be either, really, especially with that bunch of rocks lying all around here. Hickey just hyper-fixated on something real hard is just as likely as this place having influenced his mind somehow. It wouldn't be the first time, after all.

"Too long," he mentions, stepping closer - careful that he doesn't accidentally trip over a rock in the process. "I thought something might have happened."

Something more seriously bad than this, anyway. It's clear enough from his tone and the way he's staring at Hickey that he had been worried.

"What was taking up your attention that you didn't even make it back before the usual time?"

[friendsfordinner]

"This was in one of the cairns," Hickey muses, handing it over the piece of fabric for Billy to look at.

It's fraying and gray and absolutely not usable for any type of clothing but sure as hell looks like a piece of fabric. It could easily be a piece of fabric from some basic Navy gloves or socks or something like that. But it could just as well be a piece of fabric like every other piece of fabric in the world and this is Hickey being Hickey and seeing signs that aren't there. Based on Hickey's little frown, he's not entirely sure what to think.

"Someone built these cairns," he points out. "Someone cared enough to try and hide that piece of fabric away from everybody. Dunno why they did that— 's not like it's valuable, after all." This isn't instructions, food supplies, a note detailing their coordinates, or James Fitzjames's body. It's just a scrap of fabric.

"Which makes me think that it is valuable." Which makes him kind of want to keep it. "Hey, d'you think this could have been from one of the people who vanished? We've got one or two that vanish every month or so, maybe this is something they had."

An impromptu grave, built to remember the fallen without a body.

[notarat]

For what it's worth, he does take the fabric when it's handed over and looks at it. It really does look like it could be any scrap of fabric, though even Billy - as realistic as he is - isn't fully willing to dismiss it over that right away. There has to be some reason why it's out here, just like Hickey is pointing out. A cairn just for something like this? It's not even like this is a place where people go out exploring, considering there's a town not even too far away from here.

"If someone from town was going out here and establishing memorials for the people who disappeared, then surely they would have announced it." Going by the habits of the townspeople that Billy has gathered so far. They're relatively social, most intentions like these are turned into announcements, into group projects. It's not impossible one person wanted something a little more private, but still..

His gaze lifts from the piece of fabric, looking over at Hickey.

"Hadn't you seen this out here before?"

Billy hasn't, but he knows that Hickey often goes further away from town than he does.

[salamanca]

When Lalo appears, he's waving his hand and grinning. Partly, to avoid scaring Hickey with his approach, because you can never be sure who's packing around here. Partly because he's always happy to see an interesting person.

"Hello there!" he shouts. He'd been curious to explore the site -- more to see if he could find any info than in the hopes of getting anything -- but he can respect the hustle of someone who wants to find something useful.

"What'd you find? Anything good?"

He glances around, seeing nobody watching them, and adds, "Eh? Anything?" with a shrug. Based on Hickey's irritated expression as he stares at a scrap of cloth, it doesn't seem like it.

[friendsfordinner]

Hickey's staring at that scrap of cloth as if it'll unlock all the mysteries of the universe. Or at least, as if it'll unlock the current mysteries of his current situation. Because there's something odd about this fabric. These cairns. This memorial. Something odd he can't place.

When he hears Lalo's voice, he looks up, then gives the man a little nod. There's a moment and a small chuckle before,

"Nah, nothing of note. Whoever made these cairns, they weren't hiding anything."

[salamanca]

Lalo nods at that, to show he's absorbing the information. He swings his arms a little bit, not unlike a bored toddler, and looks around. Then his face lights up. He gets an idea.

"Sounds like it might be worth it to communicate with them," he says. Assuming whoever made this isn't vanished or dead, which... they might be! Only one way to find out. He's almost eager to explain his new, probably terrible idea, the energy vibrating off of him, but he'll wait for Hickey to ask. His eyes flicker to the half-built cairn, the one with rocks waiting beside it, and then back to Hickey.

"So, I say we start with the one that's not finished yet," he says, with the air of someone who's used to telling other people what to do. Sorry, Hickey. At least he's cheerful about it, and hey -- he's receptive to feedback, too.

"What do you think?"

[friendsfordinner]

There's a bright energy in Hickey's being as well. Lalo's got an idea. He's an odd one, but if he's certain about something, Hickey's interested and he'll want to know what it is. The man's a little off-putting sometimes, but Hickey appreciates the drive. Drive matters. The possibility of changing yourself, of making yourself better, that's always important to him.

"Smart idea," he says, with a nod. "Best to check all of them. After all, if we overlook one of the cairns, then that's the one who's going to have something of use."

Hickey walks over to the half-built cairn and starts to dismantle it as well. There's a moment as he muses, "Y'know, we had something like these back home. Way I remember it, people from previous expeditions left messages behind. They left behind instructions, messages, logs, stuck in a cairn like this."

[salamanca]

He certainly is odd, Hickey! Very observant.

"Did they?" Lalo asks. Mildly, but interested. Not looking at Hickey, bu only because he's too focused on the task at hand. He grunts, heaving a loud breath, but he doesn't stop trying to dismantle the cairn. "You know, I was thinking... we could arrange the rocks to spell out a message. When we're done. But if you think hiding something in one of the cairns and then re-building might work better..." He waits, curious to see what Hickey thinks.

Truthfully, he's never been more glad to come from a time with cell phones. Too bad there aren't any of those here! No working ones, anyway.

[moralabsolutism]

"That's called stealing, you know." Where the hell had Rorschach just come from? How long had he been standing there watching Hickey pull apart the cairn? And was he going to attack him again? All good questions but none that would have answers given to them anytime soon.

He stood a short distance away, hands in his pockets, making it impossible to tell how well he'd healed from his burn injury. What could be made out was the clear disapproval in his flat tone of voice as he spoke. Don't make him start chucking pine cones at you again, Hickey.

[friendsfordinner]

"I'm not taking any moral advice from someone who tried to kill me," Hickey points out. And really? He's not exactly in the mood to make small talk with again, someone who broke down his door and tried to beat him up. Hickey's mood instantly shifts, as his hand moves to his coat pocket where he knows his knife is. Who knows what this lunatic is going to do.

"You're going to leave," Hickey says, absolute loathing in his voice. Sorry, Rorschach. Any cute little back and forth isn't happening anymore. "Either that or I'm going to leave. I don't have time for this, yeah? I don't have time for you."

[moralabsolutism]

Sometimes, talking with the psychopathic vigilante was like talking to a brick wall. This was definitely one of those times. If he was listening at all to what Hickey was saying, he certainly wasn't showing it.

"Wanted you dead, already would have done it by now," he pointed out. His little boyfriend wasn't here to light Rorschach on fire this time and he knew without that Hickey was a lot more vulnerable.

[friendsfordinner]

"Yeah? Who's to say that's not the reason you're here in the first place?"

His hand is still at his pocket, ready to pull out his knife as needed. But Hickey's taking a few steps away from the cairns, trying to keep Rorschach in view as he does so. This is not a situation he wants to be in and the quicker he gets back to Milton, the better.

Zoey Westen | Original Character | open

[pythianwoman]

Zoey tends to explore, both on and off the beaten paths. That’s how she comes across the semi-circle of gnarled jack pines. And beside them are three cairns. Which is… curious. There’s no indication of what they might have been for, or who. Marker, memorial, altar, or grave. She doesn’t know. What she DOES know is that she’s not going anywhere without putting detailed sketches of both the semi-circle of trees and the cairns, and one singular cairn in her journal

Which is followed by her making a decision. There might be a clue hidden within them. She doesn’t want to pull them apart without making an offering.

She takes a moment, searching the surrounding area for a few ragged, frozen sprigs of something like mint, and laurel, or narcissus. SOMEthing that would suit well enough. Calling the warmth of fire to her hands to thaw them and dry them.

Then she begins, standing at one of the cairns. She removes a flask from her satchel, the one filled with red wine (for occasions such as this), and pours its contents on the ground in front of the cairn she’s chosen. Followed by water, pouring it on top of where she poured the wine.

Exhaling softly, she kneels, placing the sprigs on the damp ground, followed by the couple of somewhat scraggly apples she’d tossed in her bag for a snack. “I’m afraid I don’t have any pomegranates,” she murmurs softly, rising back to her feet. “And I’m afraid I’m all out of incense. The best I can do is…” And she takes of the sprigs she hadn’t left and lights it with a flicker of flames from her fingertips. As it smokes, she murmurs a soft hymn in ancient Greek.

And once she’s done, she starts carefully, and gently, pulling apart the cairn. She’s not sure what she expected, she’s not sure she expected ANYTHING, but what she finds inside, buried in the middle of the stones is a piece of paper too weathered for her to read. It’s… something. She just doesn’t know what. She tucks it somewhere safe.

There’s something else, though. A collection of plants, at the foot of each stone tower. She takes a moment and sketches those, too. Carefully, in painstaking detail.

[solitarysoul]

The faint smell of smoke brings him in this direction, but by the time he comes across Zoey and the cairns the 'incense' is done burning.

"...are these new?" They might be, or he might just never have been this way. He's learned most of the forest around Milton by now, but this is a bit further out that he usually goes.

[pythianwoman]

Zoey looks over as she finishes, offering him a slight smile. “Possibly. New, maybe, or else maybe we just missed them. Or maybe something hid them until now. But I don’t know WHY. Not sure what they’re even for, honestly.”

[solitarysoul]

"I guess we can't know other than they're here now. But what are they?" He's never heard of cairns before, but these clearly weren't natural phenomena.

[pythianwoman]

"They're cairns. Not sure if they're markers, memorials, altars, or graves. But they're cairns." She indicates the offering she'd left. "I erred on the side of them being all of them, just in case, and did my best to honor them before I started picking this one apart."