ridgeharborrpg

[ridgeharborrpg]

Plot Drop: The Sigil Dream

Last night, the residents of Ridge Harbor all dreamt the same thing.

It began in silence -- deep and black as a cave beneath the world. Then came the sound of footsteps crunching through frostbitten earth. The air grew heavy with cold. And there, at the edge of a dead forest, she stood.

The Cailleach.

Her veil blew in wind that did not move the trees. Her eyes, frosted and grey, looked through them. Around her, winter hung thick and breathless. Beneath her, the ground was stone.

And then — slowly — Spring began to rise. Not all at once. Just the press of something new beneath the frost: roots pushing upward, soft moss spreading, buds daring to unfurl. Life returned in trembling pulses. The earth remembered itself.

And at the center of it all: a sigil, carved where the Cailleach had stood. None of them could see it clearly, but they felt it. Knew it. Knew it mattered.

And then they woke.

They tried to recall it, but the image slipped like melting snow through their fingers. All that remained was one line, one curve, one mark — a single fragment seared into the backs of their eyes.

That morning, they did not speak. They simply…moved. As if pulled.

Every one of them found their way to the old church.

Someone — something — had already begun the work.

The first lines had been spread in blood upon the side of the church, dark red staining the chipping white paint.

Not a soul could remember carving it.

OOC Information: Each member will receive a private message containing one fragment of the sigil. What you do with it -- and whom you trust -- is up to you. Will your muse add to the mark within the church? Will they resist, certain this is merely a mass delusion? Paranoia? However, remember: only together can the full sigil be revealed.

The Veiled One redeemeth. May she always.

[ridgeharborrpg]

Xavier Fern (he/him). 30. Taylor Zakhar Perez.

IC INFORMATION

Character Name: Xavier Fern

Character Age: 30

Gender Identity: Cis-Male

Pronouns: He/Him/HIs

Character Face-claim: Taylor Zakhar Perez

Character Birthday: August 15th

Occupation: Milkman

Affiliation (Devout, Skeptic, Opportunist): Devout

BIOGRAPHY

The Veiled One Redeemeth, The Veiled One Redeemeth. The Veiled One Redeemeth. 

Xavier had grown up with that more times than he could have ever counted. It began with his Grandmother, when she and eleven others found an old tome, filled with prayers and instructions at a time of great hardship and the book ended that hardship. Thus was born the faith around the Entity, and even more was the Fern’s Family devotion to The Cailleach. To not be devoted was to not be family in the eyes of his Nana. His grandmother had Xavier’s mother, along with three other daughters. All of his aunts had daughters, and in this grand matriarchal society, Xavier felt like the first failure of the Fern Family to The Veiled One. The first male born to the Fern Family. 

He always felt like he was a disappointment to his Grandmother and to the Cailleach despite no one ever saying anything like that.  It pushed him to pray louder, serve harder, devout himself deeper. He made twice as many offerings as his cousins. He prayed twice as often, and he inflicted his own punishments upon himself even when no one felt he had done anything wrong. He had to prove that despite being the only male within the Fern Family, he was just as good, just as worthy of service, just as good. Something that he hoped the priestess and Council noticed. Perhaps in his deep devotion, they could find more use for him, more ways for him to prove himself to the Cailleach. To serve was all that he wanted in this life. 

In Ridge Harbor, the Ferns raised and bred cattle specifically for the milk, which they then supplied to the townsfolk and local businesses. Through providing this milk they ensured that those who followed the Entity were a major lifeblood for the town. Milk was needed to nurture babies, prepare meals, to bake, and even just to drink. The Fern women did most of the nurturing and caring for the dairy cows. They came to believe that they were disturbed by the presence of men, so Xavier was given the task of handling all of the milk deliveries. These deliveries went to almost every home and every business. Regardless of whether they were a believer or non-believers. It gave Xavier his mission for the cult: at pick up and drop off of the bottles, you can engage in conversation, figure out what people are doing, gain their trust, and then report iit all back to the Twelve. That way they would be able to know what was going on across all of Ridge Harbor. 

Xavier is devoted. He is loyal. He is willing to serve, but he knows that as a man he can only go so high within their faith. It’s because of this limitation that he feels….a longing, a sense of wanting to be able to be more for the Cailleach, but perhaps even for himself. He doesn’t feel that his purposes was to never get to a high ranking position to be the one who is always issued orders, and never allowed to give them….and that is why he still suffers from doubts, insecurity, and a desire for more.

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[ridgeharborrpg]

Catarina Miller (she/her). 30. Eliza Dushku.

  The Veiled One promised safety; she knew all, she could save all. It was something she heard at every single angle; prayers in place of bedtime stories, services, anything to reinforce the idea that faith and ritual held all the answers. Her childhood was steeped in prayer, ceremony, and an unshakable trust in the guidance of the town’s High Priestess. It made Cat tender – delicate with everyone around her; she knew she was safe, she knew she could trust, she was safe to love knowing that there would always be something guiding her on the right path, keeping her from devastation. 

  She was a curious child still, as all children are – she wanted to explore, to meet more than just the people who were as devout as her mother and father, Leda and Eugene respectively. From a young age, Cat was attached to Cress – where one went, the other followed. There was an assurance that Cat and Cress would always be engaging in something that nearly verged on sacrilege simply because of their shared need for knowledge; finding every corner, nook and cranny that Ridge Harbor had to offer – daring each other to do something stupid but luckily never catching themselves facing consequences for childish antics. 

  They bloomed in their adolescence, feeling on top of the world – at least Cat did – like nothing could be of harm like they were perhaps divinely chosen by the Cailleach for this exact purpose. Importantly, Cat noticed Cress; the way she smiled, the ferocity of her intelligence, how nice it felt to be by her side. That too blossomed, came to a head one evening out near the water – nervous, clumsy, tentative, they kissed. Cat had been certain that this was also part of the Cailleach’s plans. 

  Until they returned in the early morning.

  The sun crept over their town, but peace was not found amongst the Twelve, among anyone who claimed to follow The Veiled One’s teachings devoutly. Cat’s father was dead. Eugene Miller, a pious man, was found in the woods early that morning, carved into with symbols that – well – Cat had heard that there were symbols carved into his body – that resembled something out of ritual. They laid him to rest that evening.

  Curiosity always did get the better of Cat, always demanded things of her that she knew would not lead her down a road of happiness. Her father’s murder brought questions; would someone from the flock do this to him? Was he going against the Veiled One’s teachings? Why him and not someone who was an unrelenting defiler of the Cailleach and her word? Why did it have to be her dad?

  Where Cat’s faith strayed, her mother doubled down on her religious fanaticism – she became more active, she became more terse with Cat – insisting she needed to become a better follower, to do the rituals exactly the way the High Priestess said she should, needed to be a perfect example and maybe she’d be lucky enough to be granted visions the way Cress had. 

  Cat grew…distant, rage in a quiet font; she did not want to hear about religious perfection, she did not want to be reminded that while she had a wondrous bubbling thing in her adolescence she and Cress faded, as friends, as whatever else could have or would have been in another lifetime. 

  Cat figured she could still be useful, maybe, not as a prophet or a seer of anything, but she could force herself to be kind the way she was raised to be; Cat became a teacher – it wasn’t the first thing she thought she’d be when she became an adult but there were a lot of different places Cat saw herself. Some of her daydreams were out of Ridge Harbor, acting as an explorer, a pioneer who would help rebuild society. Some were by the side of those who were lucky to be one of the Twelve. 

  Still, she taught elementary; the smaller children always needed more attention, guidance on how to behave, shown that they were loved for their whole self. Here, Cat could pour an endless stream of affection into this work, into being worth something good even if it wasn’t propagating every line of religion perfectly. It wasn’t much, but it was where she could offer and – they were undeserving of how she wanted to explode. Cat could bottle her rage up and hide it in a corner until she was alone. Cat would be good, she would be kind, she would be holy. 

PENNED BY GWEN

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[ridgeharborrpg]

Cressida (she/her). 30. Anya Taylor Joy.

Before she was molded into the cold, unyielding weapon of the divine, Cress was a curious child – a lively girl enamored by the Cailleach’s creations and by the enormous possibility of the world. But she was plagued with visions – flashes of a future too potent to ignore, and too fragmented to understand. Others whispered secrets of a fate intertwined with the ancient powers of the Cailleach, and they hinted at a destiny of both glory and unbearable sacrifice. 

Her best friend was Cat, and their lives were a vibrant tapestry of whispered secrets and daring escapades carried out in the rare blindspots of Ridge Harbor’s watchful eyes. Their friendship tinged poignantly in adolescence, nurturing a budding, forbidden love. One secret, starlit night, away from prying eyes, they shared a delicate, tentative kiss — a fragile rebellion against a world that demanded unyielding obedience. But when they returned at dawn, chaos had erupted.

Cat’s father was dead.

Suddenly, Cress was overwhelmed by a violent vision. Collapsing onto the shore, she traced an unfamiliar marking into the sand — the same marking carved into Cat’s father (a body she hadn’t seen); the same marking carved into a man who would wash up years later. She began to seize, losing consciousness, though when she awoke, their lives would be forever changed.

When her gift became known, the Twelve convened in hushed urgency. They seemed capable of governing fate itself. And so Cress’ was altered. Their decision was swift and irrevocable: Cress was to be given, without question or recourse, to the High Priestess, the austere and unyielding custodian of their sacred rites, to be raised deep within the confines of (and therefore within the control of) their church. 

Under the High Priestess’s stern tutelage, Cress was remade as her ward.

Her childhood curiosity was gradually replaced by an all-consuming devotion, her every waking moment dictated by endless prayers and ceremonies designed to honor the ancient Cailleach. Cress became not a person with dreams and desires, but a tool forged in the crucible of ritual, crafted to embody the will of a power far greater than herself. She was transformed into a living symbol, an icon revered and idolized by the devout who saw in her the flawless manifestation of divine destiny.

In the now seemingly impenetrable cage of her upbringing, Cress encountered the Rafferty boys. Courage was tender and kind, good with animals. Honor was eager, devout, talented at spinning stories. Their father, Joel, served the Twelve, and so they were some of the few people permitted in close proximity. She clung to any thread of connection, any momentary companionship that came her way. Courage cared for the other Rafferty children, and as Cress wormed her way into his sphere, he began to care for her too.  

She and Courage shared whispered confidences and gentle dreams of liberation. He never shied away from her questions, though they bordered on something dangerous, and in an act of confidence, he shared with her a terrible, wonderful secret. His forbidden love for Thomas Baker – a spark of hope that offered a glimpse of a life beyond the rigid confines of divine duty. Cress had felt her own longing, though she knew little of love. She treasured the knowledge – and the trust it signaled. For a time, Cress thought the Cailleach had blessed her with a new family.

But it wasn’t enough. 

  The High Priestess was brutal and exacting, and her inquisition – which left Cress heartbroken and battered – was misguided in its quest. The High Priestess couldn’t marry. Her life belonged solely to the Cailleach. And yet, given her closeness with the Raffertys, there was fear that Cress had fallen in love. That she had forgotten her place. That she had prioritized her own selfishness, forsaking the Veiled One in pursuit of evil, which was to say autonomy. The High Priestess demanded a confession. There was still time for atonement. Penance could be made. Cress begged against it, fighting an inevitable end she’d already known – the vision of this having plagued her in fragmented pieces for years.

In a moment that would forever alter the course of both their lives, Cress divulged Courage’s secret – a revelation that served as both punishment for Courage’s defiance and a demonstration of her own unwavering faith. That betrayal was the final price she paid to secure her place among the sacred. Courage was taken, and Cress was rewarded with her seat among the Twelve. One step closer to the ultimate throne.

Her public mask is flawless. To the faithful, she is the unshakeable embodiment of divine grace and sacrifice, destined to merge with the Cailleach in a final, transcendent ascension. Yet behind that mask, her soul bears the indelible scars of betrayal and loss. The visions that once heralded her unique destiny have grown ever more brutal, their torment a constant reminder of the heavy cost of her ambition. With each passing day, her body and spirit weaken under their relentless assault, and the memory of her betrayal of Courage haunts her like a ghost.

In the silent, oppressive corridors of Ridge Harbor, Cress endures as both a monument to duty and a prisoner of her own choices. The bitter irony of her existence is etched into every scar and every whispered prayer: in securing her ascension and earning her place on the Twelve, she sacrificed not only her own humanity, but also the chance at a love that might have freed her. 

And so, as the promise of divine union looms ever closer, Cress faces a harrowing truth – one that questions whether her destiny is one of salvation or of an eternal, unyielding doom.

PENNED BY LENA

[ridgeharborrpg]

Courage Leo Rafferty (he/him). 40. Jensen Ackles.

His mother named him Courage because she knew it was what was needed to survive the coming storms. Marnie was a devout woman, sure of the Cailleach’s fortunate - if wrathful - protection over her growing family. The winter storm that Courage entered into was a sign of strength and prosperity - a sign that her other four children would not be born under. Courage became his mother’s steadfast supporter as he grew up, helping take care of his younger siblings while his father spent his days in fervent - if, perhaps, overcommitted - service to the Veiled Ones. Joel saw little of his own family as he spent his time at the beck and call of the Council - any small errand or favor they could think of, Joel was there to provide. For her part, Marnie was the mother the five children needed, feeding and caring for them, teaching them the blessings of the Cailleach, and encouraging each of them to find their gifts and talents - and how they might help the collective.

So, Courage found his talent: animal care. He found a natural kinship with them, and they in turn learned to trust him with ailments. Whereas others would get kicked by stubborn horses, Courage knew how to calm them. Injured cats would hiss and scratch at his family, but limp to his arms for aid. And given that so many in the collective depended on livestock and husbandry for their livelihoods, Courage quickly became invaluable to the community. So much so that Joel (with Marnie's permission, of course) eagerly brought Courage to be of service to the 12.

They were kind enough, but rarely had use for Courage. His primary duty was to prepare animals for their various religious usages. Sometimes it was cleaning a slaughtered pig, others it was plucking geese for roasting. But over time, he realized that some of the animals he was tending to in life were all destined for one end. Wasn't that a bit cruel? How could this possibly be pleasing to the Cailleach, who looked over nature? And that was the start of Courage's questioning.

Courage wasn't the best in school, and this only got exacerbated with his newfound questions of the Cailleach. One teacher mused his mother should have named him Cautious for the ways he was talking. Over the various years growing up, Courage came into conflict with many of his teachers - and many of his teachers were not the kindest in their rebukes. Despite both social and physical discipline, Courage couldn't stop the questions from flowing from his brain and out his mouth.

As he aged, the questions lessened not from their potency but rather from the constant barrage against them. Courage grew quieter after his coming of age initiation. They still followed him, though, even as he said his prayers and attended to the rituals' needed animals.

Then Cress was introduced to the Raffertys. A new Seer, everyone whispered. Courage, who had come into his own as a task rabbit to the Twelve, was privy to their interior conversations. Joel was particularly captured; he insisted that his sons be the ones to tend to her every need as she acclimated to her upcoming responsibilities. Cress found her way into the group of boys with surprising ease, though it could never be doubted that she and Courage particularly bonded.

Courage, for his part, was a seasoned older brother. He had plenty of younger siblings and Cress fit in like blood. But more than that, Cress fit in with Courage intellectually. She was notably younger, of course, but she asked the same types of questions he did. Only she learned faster - only ask those you could trust. Don't let others know your thoughts. But between the two of them, they had an understanding. They knew each other well.

He could answer Cress' questions - at least to the best of his knowledge. And in her own way, she showed him what a life with all of this could be. Cress was the embodiment of young curiosity - pure and joyful. Courage had no doubt that she understood him.

Then Courage met Thomas Baker.

It was a chance encounter: the two of them reaching for the same apple in the central market. But once they had met and shared a laugh (Thomas took the apple in question), Courage couldn't stop seeing him. Around the farm, from across the street, in the market at the suspiciously consistently same time as him. Conversations, jokes, and then: a guest at the inn needed his pet cat tended to. Word got around and it was Courage who was sent. After fixing up the kitten - it had stepped on a burred plant - Courage found himself alone for only a few minutes with Thomas. A hushed conversation, a first kiss, and a promise to see each other again followed.

So when Cress started asking deeper questions - about family, about marriage, about love - what was Courage to say? Was family the way Marnie looked at her children with disdain, hoping against hope that any of them were daughters? Was marriage the way Joel ignored his wife in utter servitude to the Twelve? What was love? Well, Courage said, love is when two people cared for each other. The way he and Thomas cared for each other. The way he and Thomas loved each other. That was what he told Cress, in the privacy of their honesty.

Perhaps he should have known better. He should have realized that someone being primed for leadership of the Twelve, someone who's whole being was devotion just might choose that devotion over a force-found family. Nevertheless, Cress' betrayal came as a shock to him. She relayed his secret directly to the Twelve, who strictly forbade relationships with outsiders. So for Courage to claim love with an outsider? It simply could not stand. Within hours, they started their reconversion of Courage Rafferty.

Day in and day out, the Twelve took it in turns to reorient Courage towards the Veiled One. Some chose rote repetition, some chose stern lectures, and some chose various violences - some that Courage remembered and some that later blocked themselves from his mind. But almost every night he would sneak back to the inn, sometimes bloody and bruised, to be with Thomas. How could the Cailleach be so angry with him when it was her who gave him this gift? If all good things came from her, then how was Thomas not the most faithful thing to cling to?

For a while, the Twelve thought they had won. Courage walked the town as a visual reminder for those who might doubt. Unspoken cuts and bruises, evident even as his mother tried to soothe, heal, and disguise them. But it wouldn't last long; Courage knew that a Cailleach that could inspire such vitriol was a deity that couldn't exist. Not when the animals and his Thomas showed the good outside of the veil.

Courage tried to make his break with his family clean, but it wasn't destined to be. He had planned to leave with just a bag of clothes in the night, but as he crept out, his younger brother, Honor, found him. Meaning well, he woke the household, and a now-famous fight broke out. The entire town knew - and Joel remembered for years - the screaming and thumping that rocked the Rafferty house. Ultimately Courage did leave, but with a thousand curses from his father and the disappointed glare of his mother following him out.

He has been with Thomas at the inn ever since. His family fully cut him out, and for many years he was happy to be so. "Courage" no longer felt right on his ears. Whether he felt he lost it in the break or it was too much a reminder of a family he no longer had, the man took his middle name of Leonardo as his first. Despite it all, though, he still felt connected to the Rafferty name, so it was with great celebration that Leo Rafferty married his love, Thomas Baker.

Leo still remembers his family and youth in the cult - for he now sees it as such. He still bears reminders of his past. His mind finds unfortunate times to remind him of his reconversion, and he's not fully sure he has truly broken free of the grasp. Night terrors and panic attacks still to this day plague him. Memories of betrayal after betrayal claw half-memories out from protected vaults in his psyche. He also bears physical marks - most notably about half a tattoo on his wrist, which is blotted over with various burn scars from manic attempts to purge it from his skin.

Leo is a haunted man, often terrified of the memories that overtake him. Over the years he has found his way to a dogged, intentional happiness, but he cannot predict when a stray memory will throw him for a whirlwind. He's learned how to cope with them with Thomas' help along with Thomas' dog, Chowder, and the barn cat who slowly integrated herself into their lives that Leo named Bandit after catching her stealing a fish. He still works with animals around town, which gives him purpose and calmness along with an income.

For over a decade, Leo has managed to live alongside his painful past. His heart aches any time he sees a sibling in town, knowing they will never talk to him. He hasn't seen Joel since that night. Marnie has made eye contact only once in ten years, and its coldness was all Leo needed to know he made the right choice. It's a painful, if free, existence, and Leo manages the tenuous balance as best he can. But anything - or anyone - might tip that balance.

Penned by: M

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[ridgeharborrpg]

Honor Rafferty (he/him). 37. Chace Crawford.

Second-born, second-best. Honor Rafferty spent his childhood trailing his brother Courage, always wanting and always failing to be as good or as special as him. While Joel Rafferty would leave and spend entire days or even weeks in service of the Council, it was Courage who stepped into the role of father figure — to Honor’s eyes.

  Honor was born three years after Courage, an age gap that was not meant to be. While Marnie and Joel had wanted another child immediately after Courage’s birth, it took over two years for Marnie to get pregnant again. During this time, she prayed and promised the Cailleach that if she should have any other children, she would commit their lives, too, in service not only of the Veiled One but the Council, too.

  When her second child was finally born, she was delighted to have a child at all; her disappointment at him being a male was secondary to her joy. She considered him to be an honor and a blessing placed upon the family.

  After his birth, the other three children came in quick succession.

  For the first few years of Honor’s life, his mother was either pregnant or breastfeeding. Her pregnancies and the postpartum periods afterward were not easy for her, and so Courage supported Honor and the others as much as possible. Honor looked up to him and relied upon him, and he spent long days following in his footsteps through the barn, trying to understand why the barn cats would hiss and scratch at him but not his brother.

  His talents were not with the animals, however much he wanted them to be. He wanted to be like his big brother, desperately; but he lacked the patience, the gentleness. He was too easily worked up; if a cat hissed at him, he’d hiss back without a second thought.

  When Courage began to work more for the Twelve and with the animals, Marnie turned to Honor to try to figure out in what unique way the Veiled One had blessed him. How would he best serve the Twelve?

  But his talents were few and far between. He did okay in school; a bit better than Courage, which he boasted about given any opportunity, but math and science were still difficult for him. He enjoyed history because he liked the stories — how the world had become the way it was. And for him, the greatest story of all was that of Ridge Harbor itself and the Veiled One.

  When his brother began to question the Cailleach, Honor fell deeper into his faith. He spent much of his time in the center of town, trying to offer up his services to the Council — he’d do anything for them, and he made this clear from a young age. At first, no one had any particular use for him; if they wanted something done, they’d ask Joel or Courage, who were older and more reliable. So much of Honor’s time was spent sitting around the town square, people-watching or else telling stories of the Cailleach to the younger children. These stories were made up, but they were fun, a mythology he created through gaps in the stories he’d inherited. Mostly, he liked how easily he could command everyone else’s attention. While his older brother grew more subdued, Honor became more outgoing. He wore his heart on his sleeve, kept the faith of a child into his teenage years. He didn’t question like Courage did; he didn’t want to question.

  After all, belief had never led him astray.

  When Courage foolishly allowed himself to grow entangled with a non-believer, it seemed as though the skies above Ridge Harbor darkened. The faith that had always felt simple and straightforward to Honor was tested as he watched his brother come home battered and bruised. He pleaded with him not to question, to simply fall back into line. But Courage either couldn’t or wouldn’t.

  The gap between the two widened, and so while Honor stayed on the righteous path and became more beloved by the Council the older he grew, Courage veered off. The night that Honor found him attempting to leave quietly, he woke his parents and their other siblings in the  hopes that they would all be able to convince his brother not to leave the family.

  As he watched his father’s violent reaction to his brother, and as he peered through the window at Courage’s retreating form, his faith hardened into something more necessary. He needed it, because it was the glue that held everything together. He made it all make… sense.

  Without the truth, without the Cailleach, all of this was for nothing.

  Joel grew older and more tired after Courage left, and Honor took on more responsibilities at home and with the Council. As he left his teenage years and entered his twenties, he found that he could do quite a lot for them. Some of the Twelve wanted wood chopped for their fire, for example. Or for him to go to the market and retrieve the items on their grocery list. Others wanted him to lead the younger congregants with stories like he’d invented as a youth, only now, the Council acted as if those very same stories had always been enshrined in truth. As if Honor had not, in fact, made them up.

  He spent his days at the beck and call of the Council just as his father had. Some nights, one or other of the Twelve would also beckon, and Honor would go.

  He would do anything he needed to do, in order to hold tight to the faith that he’d required his whole life. In order to keep the position he had, both in his family and in the town. Well-liked, well-respected.

  What was asked of him in dark rooms did not matter in the town square, where everyone smiled at him and greeted him and asked questions about faith.

  Honor lives in a small house near the center of town, where he can be reached should anyone need him at any hour. Though he has plenty of friends, he doesn’t have anyone he can confide in, nor has he ever opened his heart up to a real life partner. He’s had flings with several of the congregants in the past, but has never been able to open himself up to any one person.

  Now, Joel Rafferty is on his deathbed, and the strains on the family are added to the confusion and darkness among the town in general. It’s a time for faith to be tested, but Honor’s is solid as a rock.

Penned by: Virginia

[ridgeharborrpg]

Courage Leo Rafferty (he/him). 40. Jensen Ackles.

TW: physical and mental abuse.

His mother named him Courage because she knew it was what was needed to survive the coming storms. Marnie was a devout woman, sure of the Cailleach’s fortunate - if wrathful - protection over her growing family. The winter storm that Courage entered into was a sign of strength and prosperity - a sign that her other four children would not be born under. Courage became his mother’s steadfast supporter as he grew up, helping take care of his younger siblings while his father spent his days in fervent - if, perhaps, overcommitted - service to the Veiled Ones. Joel saw little of his own family as he spent his time at the beck and call of the Council - any small errand or favor they could think of, Joel was there to provide. For her part, Marnie was the mother the five children needed, feeding and caring for them, teaching them the blessings of the Cailleach, and encouraging each of them to find their gifts and talents - and how they might help the collective.

So, Courage found his talent: animal care. He found a natural kinship with them, and they in turn learned to trust him with ailments. Whereas others would get kicked by stubborn horses, Courage knew how to calm them. Injured cats would hiss and scratch at his family, but limp to his arms for aid. And given that so many in the collective depended on livestock and husbandry for their livelihoods, Courage quickly became invaluable to the community. So much so that Joel (with Marnie's permission, of course) eagerly brought Courage to be of service to the 12.

They were kind enough, but rarely had use for Courage. His primary duty was to prepare animals for their various religious usages. Sometimes it was cleaning a slaughtered pig, others it was plucking geese for roasting. But over time, he realized that some of the animals he was tending to in life were all destined for one end. Wasn't that a bit cruel? How could this possibly be pleasing to the Cailleach, who looked over nature? And that was the start of Courage's questioning.

Courage wasn't the best in school, and this only got exacerbated with his newfound questions of the Cailleach. One teacher mused his mother should have named him Cautious for the ways he was talking. Over the various years growing up, Courage came into conflict with many of his teachers - and many of his teachers were not the kindest in their rebukes. Despite both social and physical discipline, Courage couldn't stop the questions from flowing from his brain and out his mouth.

As he aged, the questions lessened not from their potency but rather from the constant barrage against them. Courage grew quieter after his coming of age initiation. They still followed him, though, even as he said his prayers and attended to the rituals' needed animals.

His curiosities came to a head in his early twenties. Courage's best friend was Faire Blythe, a young woman who the entire community thought would become his wife. Courage Blythe, everyone said. How lovely you two would be. The two were just wickedly good friends, however. Faire was much more interested in Julia Perez, and Courage in Seamus Gladwell. Crushes came and went between the two of them, but then Courage met Thomas Baker.

It was a chance encounter: the two of them reaching for the same apple in the central market. But once they had met and shared a laugh (Thomas took the apple in question), Courage couldn't stop seeing him. Around the farm, from across the street, in the market at the suspiciously consistently same time as him. Conversations, jokes, and then: a guest at the inn needed his pet cat tended to. Word got around and it was Courage who was sent. After fixing up the kitten - it had stepped on a burred plant - Courage found himself alone for only a few minutes with Thomas. A hushed conversation, a first kiss, and a promise to see each other again followed.

So of course the first person Courage talks to is his best friend, Faire. And given that both Faire and Courage were devout and initiated Children of the Veil, the first people she told were the Twelve, as relationships with non-faithful was strictly forbidden. With a second-hand confession, it was all the Twelve needed to intervene on Courage's behalf to stage a reconversion. Day in and day out, the Twelve took it in turns to reorient Courage towards the Veiled One. Some chose rote repetition, some chose stern lectures, and some chose various violences - some that Courage remembered and some that later blocked themselves from his mind. But almost every night he would sneak back to the inn, sometimes bloody and bruised, to be with Thomas. How could the Cailleach be so angry with him when it was her who gave him this gift? If all good things came from her, then how was Thomas not the most faithful thing to cling to?

For a while, the Twelve thought they had won. Courage walked the town as a visual reminder for those who might doubt. Unspoken cuts and bruises, evident even as his mother tried to soothe, heal, and disguise them. But it wouldn't last long; Courage knew that a Cailleach that could inspire such vitriol was a deity that couldn't exist. Not when the animals and his Thomas showed the good outside of the veil.

Courage tried to make his break with his family clean, but it wasn't destined to be. He had planned to leave with just a bag of clothes in the night, but as he crept out, his younger brother, Honor, found him. Meaning well, he woke the household, and a now-famous fight broke out. The entire town knew - and Joel remembered for years - the screaming and thumping that rocked the Rafferty house. Ultimately Courage did leave, but with a thousand curses from his father and the disappointed glare of his mother following him out.

He has been with Thomas at the inn ever since. His family fully cut him out, and for many years he was happy to be so. "Courage" no longer felt right on his ears. Whether he felt he lost it in the break or it was too much a reminder of a family he no longer had, the man took his middle name of Leonardo as his first. Despite it all, though, he still felt connected to the Rafferty name, so it was with great celebration that Leo Rafferty married his love, Thomas Baker.

Leo still remembers his family and youth in the cult - for he now sees it as such. He still bears reminders of his past. His mind finds unfortunate times to remind him of his reconversion, and he's not fully sure he has truly broken free of the grasp. Night terrors and panic attacks still to this day plague him. Memories of betrayal after betrayal claw half-memories out from protected vaults in his psyche. He also bears physical marks - most notably about half a tattoo on his wrist, which is blotted over with various burn scars from manic attempts to purge it from his skin.

Leo is a haunted man, often terrified of the memories that overtake him. Over the years he has found his way to a dogged, intentional happiness, but he cannot predict when a stray memory will throw him for a whirlwind. He's learned how to cope with them with Thomas' help along with Thomas' dog, Chowder, and the barn cat who slowly integrated herself into their lives that Leo named Bandit after catching her stealing a fish. He still works with animals around town, which gives him purpose and calmness along with an income.

For over a decade, Leo has managed to live alongside his painful past. His heart aches any time he sees a sibling in town, knowing they will never talk to him. He hasn't seen Joel since that night. Marnie has made eye contact only once in ten years, and its coldness was all Leo needed to know he made the right choice. It's a painful, if free, existence, and Leo manages the tenuous balance as best he can. But anything - or anyone - might tip that balance.

Penned by: M

[ridgeharborrpg]

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[ridgeharborrpg]

Thomas Baker (he/him). 42. Chris Evans.

Thomas, or Tom or even, Tommy has lived in Ridge Harbor his whole life. His parents moved there shortly after the drought, he was born not long after. They had opened Baker’s Inn, and while they were not strong believers in the cult they never gave reason for them to be distrustful. Rather they became a somewhat useful tool in the early history of Ridge Harbor. They had aimed to help the community grow, provide shelter, and a place where people could gather, and foster relationships. That’s where Thomas grew up, in the inn/tavern meeting new people, helping with drinks, luggage, keeping the fire going, carrying luggage and eventually taking over the inn and running it himself. As Ridge Harbor grew over the years so did the Inn, it started as a small communal room with two rooms for rent, now its a two floor establishment with the first floor being six rooms for rent, a kitchen, and a small lobby, and the upstairs being a large open floor communal room with tables, booths, couches, chairs, and a large hearth in the center. The establishment is now Thomas’ and he runs it more or less just how his parents did. An open door policy, making sure people are warm and welcomed, the beds are comfortable, and no matter who you are you feel like you can stop in to talk to friends. He wants it to be a community space, but also a welcoming sight for any new residents of Ridge Harbor, his mission is to try and make it the first place people want to stop in when they first get to Ridge Harbor.. Thomas is always armed with a warm smile, and warmer personality for everyone, stranger or not. He’s never been someone who is quick to anger, in fact little ot no one in town has ever actually seen him angry. Thomas makes friends easily, and is quick to forgive if someone does somehow manage to upset him. He’s witty, friendly, and incredibly chatty. He takes care of and protects not just the people he cares about, but anyone who needs it. He’s always tried to be a friend to everyone, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to lend,  in their times of need. He’s been compared to a Golden Retriever multiple times.  His own relationship with the cult is….sure maybe back then their faith helped save the town but now the thing thats going to keep it growing, and keep it going is hard work, and neighbors supporting one another, the community putting their sweat and love into Ridge Harbor, not some mysterious entity, or rituals or faith in unknown, but faith in each other, in community, in helping lift each other up. While Thomas is not hostile towards them, he always offers new people the advice of steering clear, rather than getting themselves roped into it because he warns they won’t always be happy with what they find the deeper they dig into things. 

PENNED BY DEVIN

[ridgeharborrpg]

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[ridgeharborrpg]

The body, a young man, pale and cold, with a strange symbol, carved deep into his back - lay where it had been discovered: the central square, just steps away from the market. Blood had soaked into the cobblestones, leaving an almost ceremonial ring of crimson beneath him. No one recognized the symbol, not even the Twelve or anyone devout enough to follow The Veiled One’s teachings. It wasn’t the typical symbol that lay on the wrist of those who had passed their coming of age within the religion, it wasn't one anyone had seen.

The Twelve convened immediately, cloistered in the High Priestess’ house. For hours, the rest of the village waited, going about their daily life or murmuring amongst themselves. Some speculated that the murder was an outsider’s doing, while others whispered about punishment from The Veiled One, or worse, that the followers of the Veiled One were directly responsible.

By mid-morning, the Twelve emerged, their expressions grim. The High Priestess, whose eyes had taken on a glassy, distant sheen in recent weeks, stood at the forefront. “This is no random act,” she announced, her voice unsteady. “The Veiled One has spoken. We must respond.” 

But to anyone outside of the Twelve, outside the inner echelon of the religion, this could mean anything; would the rituals need to be intensified? What were they doing to 'respond'? Would the storms get worse? By evening, the unease in the village has deepened into outright paranoia. Children whisper about shadows moving in the fog, claiming to see figures watching them from the cliffs. The wind carries strange sounds; low, mournful wails that set even the bravest residents on edge. And as the sun dips below the horizon, another storm begins to gather over the sea, its clouds twisting unnaturally as though guided by an unseen hand.

[ridgeharborrpg]

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