Event: August 1312

[northcliffpass]

WHO: Everyone
WHAT: further inconvenience
WHEN: mid-August
WHERE: townwide
NOTES: get your wellies on

It's not that there was a rainstorm. There was, but they happen every so often without any real incident: this one is just happening A Lot, and for a very long time.
It started on Saturday and has not let up since then, with rainfall varying from a smattering to torrential but never abating entirely. The roads are muck, travel and market hours are miserable, and any who have to spend any considerable time out in it (the local Watch, for instance) have the look of drowned rats even with the aid of oilskin cloaks and the occasional break under an awning.

Sands Creek has swelled considerably even in the span of a day or so, and as many of the local old-timers might have predicted, the mudslide follows. Because more mud is exactly what everyone needed.
No one is injured outright, but several of the buildings near the mountain-facing edge of town experience cave-ins: namely, the stable and a few of the houses on Hill Street.

Dealing with it will not be pretty, especially with it being so impossible to stay dry. But it's happened before, and almost certainly will again, some other year from now.

Comments

OPEN TO ALL

[ferruginous]

I. COME HITHER SWEET MAIDEN AND IGNITE MY FLAMES

Fíadh isn’t one to care about the elements, if you asked her on any given day what the weather was like five minutes ago she’d either shrug in apathy or tell you to leave her alone unless you want to buy something. But blocking out the misery of others is much harder for her to do, and it doesn’t take more than half a day for the groaning and moaning of the sopping locals to reach her notice.
It’s probably the fifth or sixth person that passes by cursing the rain that she finally storms out of her smithy, grabs that person by the shoulders and roughly steers them to the warmth of her forge before going back to her work. It doesn’t take long for the shop to accumulate a bit of a gathering, people chatting idly by the forge and damp clothes dripping off makeshift lines. Fíadh still keeps to herself, only shushing them every now and then if they get too loud for her liking, but if a few become brave enough to talk to her then that’s their risk to take now isn’t it?

II. WE HATH BUILT THIS CITY ON LUTE AND DRUM

At first it was just the misery of the rain, but all that quickly escalated with the mudslide. Now people are not only soaking but also out of house and home. The second Fíadh hears the news she gathers all the useful tools she can find within her shop and makes her way out into town (not before giving those still warming by her hearth a piercing glare and the warning “don’t touch anything”). Going from broken home to broken home, she’s helping however she can. Clearing debris, getting people to higher ground, boarding up quick fixes where it’s possible. However someone might find her, she’s doing some sort of work and if they want to they can certainly give her a hand.

III. LEAN UPON ME WHEN THOU ART DEVOID OF STRENGTH

It’s a couple days after the mudslide and the ground has settled about as well as it’s going to. Fíadh is wandering back and forth along the trajectory of the disaster down to the riverbed with a burlap sack in hand. She’s obviously searching, what for isn’t so obvious. Not until she spies a disruption in the smooth mud, a bit of painted wood poking up from the ground. She kneels down and begins to scoop away the mud until the object comes out in a soft sucking squelch.
It’s some sort of toy on wheels, it looks like maybe a dog or a cat although the mud covering it is obscuring most of its form. What it is doesn’t really matter, Fíadh knows that. What it means is everything. Someone will be missing this. She opens up her sack and gently places the toy in before getting back to her feet and resuming her search.

ota

[infinitewatch]

I. Schlup Schlup

Not rain nor snow nor wind nor hail can stop the poor bastards of the Watch (all two of them) making their rounds, albeit now much, much more slowly. Lance looks like a cat being forced to wear booties as he high-steps through the mud, simultaneously energetic about never letting his feet remain long enough for his boots to soak through, and absolutely dead tired straight down to his soul.
He usually has at least a pleasant glance to spare for people, but at present it's hidden under his oilskin hood and the miserable glower of someone who has never had a day of rest in his life and didn't want one anyway, thanks.

II. Thud Thud

He doesn't live in the house anymore, and many won't even remember that he ever did, but it still belongs to Finian and therefore having part of the roof caved in is a problem. With Kit no doubt slammed by the sudden influx of necessary structural repairs around town, some things are left to the rest of them to figure out.
Lance and Finian are working on it together, a half-useless burlap tarp thrown over the hole which Lance holds in place atop the roof while Finian struggles to patch it from the inside. There's a quiet conversation occurring, a little louder than it normally might to be heard over the rain, but perhaps it's nice to see father and son interacting directly for once.

III. Wildcard

On top of his regular duties, Lance is generally around to help in anyone's moments of crisis.

OTA

[keenly]

I. Bakery - Outside

The leak in the roof has mostly affected the upper floor, and it's remedied (as much as it can be) with a series of buckets. Colin has to take them out quite a distance, sometimes outside the city walls, in order to dump them out without contributing to the puddles outside.

(It's one of the buckets he leaves outside that fills up with pure rainwater, entirely pure from the sky. He can't throw all of it out. Simply touching it enhances his senses, soothes the abrasions on his spirit. Maybe it will soothe others.)

At one point, he can be seen up on the roof, laying down a canvas tarpaulin over the hole in the roof. He's drenched to the bone, but somehow in no hurry to get off the roof. The trouble happens when he's stepping away from it and slips, sliding down the roof and barely catching himself on the edge of the roof. He likes the rain well enough, but at the rate it's pouring off the roof and onto him, it's a lot less pleasant. The chickens gathering under his feet and clucking at him in alarm don't lift a finger to help.

II. Bakery - Inside

It takes rather longer than usual to bake anything, with all the humidity. It's not long after the loaves are out that their crusts become more chewy than crispy. Keeping moisture out of the flour and yeast is the most difficult task, especially since he winds up having to make a second batch later in the day.

III. Chapel

When the bakery closes at suppertime, Colin is tired, but manages to make his way to the Hammer and Spoke. He still doesn't like crowds, and even told Faro that he'd like not to meet there anymore, but he feels like he needs to keep some sort of lookout. Or at least, he should learn how to dampen the effects of his abilities so crowds don't bother him as much. Block things out. Tune into one person at a time. But with the rain so heavy, it's all giving him a headache.

So instead, he sits in the chapel. He looks like he is praying, but instead, he is listening. To the emotions of those around him, and to the rain.

IV. Wildcard

OTA

[blindsainz]

I. Getting wellies on
It's early Sunday morning the first time Arlene ventures out of her home. She doesn't mind rain, in general; in fact, she looks forward to it, for the soothing pitter-patter on the window and for nature's growth in the aftermath. But storms have usually broken by morning, and when it becomes clear this one won't, some of Arlene's garden has to be rescued and brought indoors.

It's harder than it looks. The rain dulls Arlene's sharp sense of hearing, robbing her of one way to navigate a familiar environment, as well as most of her sense of smell. She has to feel her way to the pots, feel her way to where the relevant plants are growing, stumbling over shifted ground and into puddles and mudholes as she goes. At one point, she miscalculates a step, and falls face-first into a pile of mud.

And for several moments, she just lies there, unmoving in the mud, torn between laughing and crying, both of which will undoubtedly lead to mud inhalation.


II. Further inconvenience

Several days later, avoiding the market becomes impossible, though clearly not quite as impossible as asking someone for help. Arlene has to resort to using her cane, which she hasn't touched in years, to avoid obstacles and perhaps help identify where she is in the town based on the sound of the stone below her feet.

Theoretically, she knows the way. Practically, the roads feel and sound completely different from how they normally do, and it's not long before she finds herself utterly and completely lost, in the opposite direction of the market, hunched and shivering in her cloak.

"Alright," she says into the rain , just in case anyone's nearby and she flat-out can't tell. "Hello? I'm a little lost."

OTA - Detlef

[stableman]

Rock the Stablah

About a half-hour after the mud has stopped its progress, Detlef is standing in the stables looking up at the decimated roof, muck-filled stalls, and destroyed feed. It's a disaster. The horses are now tied up out in the paddock, at least. There are also a few towel-bundled cats practically stacked up by his hearth, fully on display through the open door since it's his roof that's shot too. This is the disadvantage of living where you work.

"Good," he says, sounding and looking exhausted. "This is exactly what I wanted today." There's a few shovels near him, a stack of towels awaiting muddy cats under the part of the hayloft that's survived, and more work than he knows how to start.

Rock the Barbah

He's soaked, huddled over a hot toddy and a bowl of hot stew, dripping at the counter and staring into nothingness. Maybe he can't really afford to be eating out right now, but he doesn't have the brain to pull anything together right now. Everything about him says he's exhausted and out of it, so clearly it's the perfect time to pester him.

OTA

[kadia]

I. Marketplace

Kadi had to find someone to look after Silfa while she worked this morning, trudging through the woods soaked to the skin. Usually she would take the baby with her, but it's far too wet and babies must stay warm and dry. By the time she returns, she is shivering, boots full of water and squishing audibly. She goes home and changes into dry clothing, then spends about an hour curled up in front of the fire before heading to the marketplace to sell her wares.

First she drops by the herbalist's, then heads to her own stall. The awning is wide enough that you may simply be there to get out of the rain.

II. The Hammer and Spoke

In general, taverns aren't the best places for babies, but Silfa just had a nap and is very alert, and someone is playing a fiddle. Kadi stands at the edge of the room, swaying her hips with the baby curled against her chest. A rare smile is across her face, and occasionally little dips and spins cause a wide smile in the baby as well.

"Yes!" Kadi laughs when she sees those brief smiles.

III. Outside her house

Telltale redness of the nose and eyes may indicate someone picked up a summer cold. Must have been all that tramping around in the woods in the rain. She is under strict orders to stay dry and not go out into the woods until the rain stops. Which puts a hold on foraging.

She's not greedy, but she is determined to stay independent and not have to go back to her family, so she can't simply be idle. She sits outside under the eave of her own roof and sews. Her bare feet are propped up on a box; a piece of linen tape is tied to the post of another chair, its other end pinned to her sewing so she can hold it up instead of hunching over it. Undertunics and chemises are the easiest things in the world to sew, and easy to sell when they're well-made. Nobody has too much underwear.

IV. Wildcard