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satanicpanics
sukeltajalestercraftpacificator
ployboyflambeauxWho: Louis de Pointe du Lac and anyone unfortunate enough to come across him
What: Louis's apology tour, emotional support capitalism, and trauma
When: July, at night
Where: Milton
Content Warnings: mentions of animal hunting, stab wound and bloodsucking and murder, more as needed below
tinstarRaylan was out on a mission - Finding enough willing bodies to make up a good table of poker. He had talked to enough people to make up a very short list of people that might be to play poker. 'Might be' wasn't 'would' and even if it was, that very short list did not equal out to a full table. A full table was at least half of the fun of the game. He starts with the Community Hall, writing out a message and pinning it almost proudly to the board. Solid message, he thought, before looking around. It was never too soon to start the recruiting effort.
It wasn't just the hall, Raylan had no issue openly approaching people on the Streets he'd never spoken to before with as polite a- "Hey, excuse me. Raylan Givens," he'll introduce to those he hasn't met, "Yeah, can I ask you somethin' real quick?"
But it wasn't just poker that interested him. There was no dropping the conversation if someone answered his incoming questions with 'No, I don't play poker and I have no interest in learning'; he was interested in the folks that made up the community, both the people that spoke up at the town meeting trial thing and those that hadn't said anything at all. Like he hadn't said anything, expressed nothing beyond a disappointed shake of his head before exiting to avoid the rush of bodies going out. The verdicts that had come down were taken with heavily mixed result, and he couldn't help but prepare himself for the worse case scenario.
The mine has been something Raylan has been working up towards since he found out it was here. The sprawling maw of darkness that sat quiet and idle in front of the un-hatted man taunted him with the memories he'd been trying to ignore, the collapse that he and Boyd had narrowly survived, the fires, the gases, the lack of oxygen, the goddamned dust - There was more to worry about in a mine than taking a poorly planned step and falling three hundred feet to your death.
That was several of a larger handful of reasons that Raylan wanted someone who'd traversed them before to guide him through. He had asked Zoey, feeling it was it's own kind of right that the lady who found him out in the middle of the cold and got him to safety would be the same luck charm of knowledge to get them through the mountain. They'd agreed to meet at the mines, and Raylan's knapsack was heavy with a few skins of water, some food, a rope and candle, flintstone and rock, and a knife on the opposite hip of his gun. He'd never been a boyscout but he packed like one. Raylan didn't have much of any kind of faith or close held superstitions, and he didn't fear much of anything. Not guns, not red-headed women or lawyers.
But mines were different. He was glad she had agreed so graciously and without any mocking jabs at his internally categorized weakness. He could have managed it alone, but he knew that madness lived under the ground as much as minerals and his resolve to 'just the facts ma'am' in this painfully specific scenario was faulty. Something about being Downstairs made him twitchy.
Lakeside was a balm of its own sort after getting through the mine and over that damned bridge. He'd arrived with Zoey, resting at the mining cap and stopping long enough at the lake side itself to marvel at the inland body of water. At least they weren't there to fish, but there was no mistaking that there was something in the water. Raylan imagined this is what fjords must feel like. Still, the option of fishing gave him hope. Food, when his stomach still pinched a little with hunger. Maybe it connected with a river. Maybe there were salmon..Closed to Fraser
Word of mouth had passed around the fact that new life had, in fact, come to Lakeside. It was an important thing to hear for Raylan, primarily because it proved that the animals could successfully spawn here. That nothing had gotten in the way of that part of the cycle of life, the one that was going to keep them in food, however scant.
Word of mouth had also passed along where Raylan could find the Mountie, though he was polite enough to just ask after the man by his name, but it's plenty enough to send Raylan up towards Fraser's cabin. He wished that he had something to bring, you were never supposed to arrive empty handed and on a whim, pulls out his last two cans of food. If he was going to be asking for something, he would make the nutritional sacrifice. Missing his hat desperately, Raylan knocks on Fraser's door and steps back.
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satanicpanics - If you don't like rock 'n' rollsingmod - i heard a scream in the woods somewheresukeltaja - scene ii | ota | el topolestercraft - Part Three: The Casepacificator - deep in December, it's nice to rememberployboy - from enemies of mankind to their protective spirits (closed)singmod - it must be that old evil spiritsingmod - there'll be oats in the waterflambeaux - One with the shadows. Without nightmare.tinstar - Luck rarely finds coal miners - except in cardsobscurissime - why not give it a try, be a beautiful monstrositysingmod - seven devils all around you, seven devils in your housesputnik - WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO CRACK THEIR BONES?singmod - no man is an islandobscurissime - ( open ) i'm with the regularsrescapee - open/closed — is it really living if i'm just surviving?eighteenhalflives - ( there is no peace, saith my god, to the wicked )singmod - I'd sit there and look at the deserted lakes and I'd singsingmod - NPC Interaction: Young Billbigbaddy - ( open / mingle ) TOWN MEETING;![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}