Natasha R. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
latrodectus) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
logsville2021-02-07 05:34 pm
latrodectus) wrote in logsville2021-02-07 05:34 pm
OPEN
Who: Natasha and You.
When: First week after arrival, before the event.
Where: Around town!
What: Natasha meets the neighbors, goes to the library.
Warnings: N/A, will update if necessary.
A. Guns or Butter
[ Natasha did not grow up with a kindly babuskha watching over her shoulder, telling her how to beat the eggs. Instead, she had dormitory kitchens and field rations, careful portions of second grade wheat flour. What she knew how to make, she'd taught herself.
It is how they explain it in American textbooks: you can have guns or butter. She'd always chosen guns. And takeout. And a glass of wine before bed.
But if there was one lesson her upbringing did teacher, it was that you work with what you have. So one trip to the grocery store, and a stop at the library, and she was making what the recipe assured her were cakes, to bring to her new neighbors.
She delivers them by hand, of course, ringing the doorbell and waiting outside with a smile. That was the point. To meet them, maybe get a look inside their houses, make a perimeter. ]
Hi, I'm Natalie. [ She says, holding the unnaturally colored cake up in her white-gloved hands. It isn't poison. At least, not on purpose. ]
I just moved in.
B. Odyssey
[ She does love books, especially long and sad stories where everything ends neatly, with nothing frayed. But that isn't why she goes to the library. She wants to see the town records for herself. Natasha expects them to be lies, but even the lies people tell reveal the truth they want to be believed.
But there's nothing, nothing from the past ten years, at least. Her eyes scan the shelves, sometimes taking out a book and looking at the publishing date, then hurriedly putting it back. If someone catches her looking, though, she turns to them and whispers: ]
Do you know where the romances are?
C. Lovely Dark and Deep
[ She tries the forest, too, as the sun is just beginning to sink into the depths of the sky. The woods are thick enough that it's easy not to notice, and the light that does shine through is warmer, with the dusk.
It feels like the most lonely spot in this town, and that's almost freeing, in a way. Natasha stops for a moment, leaning on the fence. She takes her hair down.
And then there's a horrible, horrible laugh.
There's another hiker approaching, and she meets their gaze, her own eyes asking the unspoken question: did you hear that? ]
D. Wildcard
[ Natasha is going to be wandering all around town after arrival, trying to case the place out. Feel free to run into her, or have her catch your character doing something unusual. ]
When: First week after arrival, before the event.
Where: Around town!
What: Natasha meets the neighbors, goes to the library.
Warnings: N/A, will update if necessary.
A. Guns or Butter
[ Natasha did not grow up with a kindly babuskha watching over her shoulder, telling her how to beat the eggs. Instead, she had dormitory kitchens and field rations, careful portions of second grade wheat flour. What she knew how to make, she'd taught herself.
It is how they explain it in American textbooks: you can have guns or butter. She'd always chosen guns. And takeout. And a glass of wine before bed.
But if there was one lesson her upbringing did teacher, it was that you work with what you have. So one trip to the grocery store, and a stop at the library, and she was making what the recipe assured her were cakes, to bring to her new neighbors.
She delivers them by hand, of course, ringing the doorbell and waiting outside with a smile. That was the point. To meet them, maybe get a look inside their houses, make a perimeter. ]
Hi, I'm Natalie. [ She says, holding the unnaturally colored cake up in her white-gloved hands. It isn't poison. At least, not on purpose. ]
I just moved in.
B. Odyssey
[ She does love books, especially long and sad stories where everything ends neatly, with nothing frayed. But that isn't why she goes to the library. She wants to see the town records for herself. Natasha expects them to be lies, but even the lies people tell reveal the truth they want to be believed.
But there's nothing, nothing from the past ten years, at least. Her eyes scan the shelves, sometimes taking out a book and looking at the publishing date, then hurriedly putting it back. If someone catches her looking, though, she turns to them and whispers: ]
Do you know where the romances are?
C. Lovely Dark and Deep
[ She tries the forest, too, as the sun is just beginning to sink into the depths of the sky. The woods are thick enough that it's easy not to notice, and the light that does shine through is warmer, with the dusk.
It feels like the most lonely spot in this town, and that's almost freeing, in a way. Natasha stops for a moment, leaning on the fence. She takes her hair down.
And then there's a horrible, horrible laugh.
There's another hiker approaching, and she meets their gaze, her own eyes asking the unspoken question: did you hear that? ]
D. Wildcard
[ Natasha is going to be wandering all around town after arrival, trying to case the place out. Feel free to run into her, or have her catch your character doing something unusual. ]
no subject
If they could fake this whole place, why not fake the records, too? Why hide them?
[ She's gone through some strange possibilities, but if this is some pocket dimension created by reality warping, why would the library records be missing? ]
no subject
[ a dangerous implication. if the mayor and others aren't the masterminds, then who was? what was the reason for the town? why is it still 1961, despite their memories holding continuity? there were a lot questions that snowballed into even more dangerous situations than the one they first thought they were in. ]
I asked you the first time we met, but do you remember the moments before you first woke up? A voice asking for help. We haven't paid much attention to it because of all the problems right in front of our faces, but I want to know who that was...
no subject
[ But not everything that starts under control stays that way. ]
The little girl. [ Or sounded like, anyway. He's right though, so much has happened, it's easy to lose track of the beginning. ] You think that was real?
no subject
[ say he's got some personal investment in that. bruce sets his coffee cup down and considers letting her in on something, without giving away too much. ]
I found an old newspaper clipping last week. Dale Harding was involved in a trafficking raid that saw five children rescued. Seemed to happen a long time ago in Southern California. That, plus the missing children last October... it's a trend I can't ignore.
no subject
But that isn't what she's thinking, not really. She is thinking how, if there's any chance children are at the heart of this, she needs to do anything in her power to save them. ]
No. Who could? [ But then something else occurs to her. ]
You don't have oneβ here? [ She knows that there are children brought in and assigned the same way couples are matched. ]
no subject
[ not that he wouldn't worry. not that he wouldn't tear the city apart from the ground up if anything happened to them-- but if you had kids, sometimes that went without saying. ]
But I still have one under my care. Kipo Oak. Kind of seems to me like the sort who tends to find trouble.