015-017 » enter the fog!

[villagemod]

WHO: Everyone.
WHERE: Eastern/Central Mathias.
WHEN: Days 015-017
WHAT: The fog murders a third of the town. This is Fine.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. PM this account to have a warning added!
NOTES: Plotting post over here! Thank you so much to everyone for your patience!!

RECOMMENDED ♫ Kevin Penkin "Core-collapse"

DAY 015
ENTER THE FOG
“If you want to see what the fog hides in itself,
don't wait for the fog to disperse! Enter the fog!”
— Mehmet Murat ildan

In the early hours of the morning, when darkness finally descends upon Mathias once again, so too does the fog. It moves slowly, filling every inch of the forest before spilling into the streets like water, a wave of thick white vapor surrounding every building and structure in the town until it reaches the rocky beach. And at this early hour, before the sun has risen in the sky, the residents of Mathias will learn the true power of the fog that has surrounded their prison.

In every building in town, in every room that has one, the phone rings. The sound is shrill in the quiet of the town, the cacophony of ringing echoing into the night. Again, and again, and again, the ringing is incessant, continuing if unimpeded for minutes that feel like hours.


If the phone is answered:

— There’s a strange clicking sound, like an old tape player that’s reached the end of the reel, click click click, and then a crackling whisper comes through across the line: “Don’t go outside.”

— If your character still chooses to open a door or window, the fog will remain in place, a wall of white just beyond their entry. It will not enter that room and they will feel no ill effects.

— If they choose to ignore all warnings and step into the fog, they will immediately begin to suffer mild side effects from the exposure (headaches, nausea, and weakness) that will be gone in a few hours if they retreat to safety but will increase in strength if they continue forward. More than two minutes in the fog will bring on a sharp pain in their head and nausea that forces them to the ground. They will be unable to breathe and unless they are somehow brought to safety, they will die in three minutes.

If the phone is not answered within a few minutes, there is a knock at the nearest exterior door or window. Polite, at first, and then pounding, a deep sound that echoes through the room, louder and faster, seeming to come from every wall all at once.

— If your character opens that door or window, there’s nothing there except the fog, which immediately begins to seep into the room through the open door. Those who shut the opening again will suffer mild side effects from exposure to the fog (headaches, nausea, and weakness) but will recover in a few hours.
— If they don’t open the door or window, the pounding stops suddenly, complete silence pressing in. And then— every window in the room implodes inward, shattered glass raining down everywhere as the fog rushes in. They are overcome by a sharp pain in their head and nausea that forces them to their knees. Breath is stolen from their lungs, leaving them gasping, and unless they are somehow brought to safety, they will die in three minutes.

The fog withdraws after one hour, just as the sun begins to rise.

Only those who answer the phone are truly safe from the fog. If any player wishes to opt-out of this event, their phone will not ring and they will sleep soundly through the hour. All those who perish in this event will leave behind corpses where they died and they will resurrect in separate bodies on the beach later that day as the sun sets, in the exact state they were in before the fog appeared. There are exceptions to these conditions...



A WAYWARD ARRIVAL
There is one new face in Mathias on this strangest of days. While so many are suffering and struggling to come to grips with the new facets of their strange reality, the latest resident to arrive in town will wake on the beach in the afternoon, when the sun has begun to dip on the horizon but the sky hasn't yet started to change color.

DAY 016
IN MEMORIAM
The sun rises and the sun sets, the day passing like any other. There is nothing eventful worth noting on this completely normal day beyond the return of even more of our weary residents. By sundown, all have returned who fell to the fog — except for those who don't. One has perished for good and the other remains lost.

New notices have been added to the bulletin board, including notes of memorial and missing persons. There are also a few graves that have popped up near the treeline, thanks to those who have taken it upon themselves to take care of the corpses left behind.

DAY 017
DECEPTIVE BEAUTY
Residents wake to a winter wonderland. Under the cover of night, snow has moved into Mathias, dusting the town with a coating of white that gives an almost picturesque quality to the eerie ghost town. It's a beautiful sight, concealing the deadly secrets that they've discovered existing beneath the surface here.

The snow brings with it an extra chill in the air. Breaths come in white puffs of air and frostbite and hypothermia are dangers to be mindful of. Stay inside, stay warm. Repair those broken windows and doors. Hope that another storm isn't on the horizon...

---

THE FOG'S AFTERMATH

THE PERMANENTLY DEAD
— Jill Valentine's dead body will be found in the street outside the Boarding House. She will not return to Mathias.

THE TEMPORARILY LOST
— Daisy Johnson will be missing from the town following the fog's departure.

THE RESURRECTED ONES
— John Constantine's body will be found inside 1308 Phillips Drive by Doc Holliday, who will bury him. He will resurrect on the beach the afternoon of Day 16. (x)
— Number Five's body will be found between the beach and the Grey Gull by his brother, Klaus. He will resurrect on the beach the morning of Day 16. (x)
— Phil Coulson's body will be found outside the Boarding House by Doc, Raylan, and Malcolm. He will resurrect on the beach the evening of Day 15. (x)
— Claire Novak's body will be found inside her room at the Boarding House. She will resurrect on the beach the evening of Day 15. (x)

LOCATIONS

NO NEW LOCATIONS are available for exploration at this time. Residents are welcome to further explore available locations, including utilizing AP rewards at locations they may have previously explored.

CONDITIONS UPDATES

— WEATHER conditions for days 15-16 are typical for late fall, with temperatures consisting of chilly "sweater weather" days and nights that can dip below freezing — you don't want to be outside without a coat when the sun goes down. The temperature falls overnight into day 17, bringing with it a light snowfall that continues throughout the day.

— FOG continues to block the way of those wishing to travel further than the Town Hall, and all who venture into the forest will be met by its impenetrable wall after a few hundred yards. The fog will allow none to pass; those who try will find themselves overcome by fear and panic so intense, they can physically do nothing but flee back the way they came.

OOC UPDATES

— SANITY levels are now available as part of the game. Your characters have settled in and seen some things, so it's time to figure out just how crazy they're starting to go.

— REPORTING updates to locations around town may now be done over here. Did your character dig a moat around their house? Have they burned down part of the town hall? Are they growing magic carrots on the beach? These are important things to note for the rest of the class, so let us know about them and the updates will be added to the locations page!

navigation | faq | setting | locations | mod contact

Comments

QUESTIONS?

[villagemodama]

Use this space to ask general questions about this log and the circumstances or locations presented within. Please direct more broad game questions to the FAQ.

[hellblaze]

( the day I stop asking questions is the day ya'll wonder if I've dropped )

- What side effects will the deceased face when they are resurrected? FAQ says they remember their deaths, but, do they have nightmares as well, or haunting visions, ect?
- What happened after they died? What would their minds/souls have experienced in that 12-24 hour period of being separated from A body?
- Do the corpses decay at normal speed? Or at ALL?

[bestfuneralever]

You mentioned that Klaus would kind of sense an almost physical void from the bodies... is there anything of note specifically about that? Does it feel cold, empty? Does it feel like a place at all? Things like that.

[cholesterol]

🔪 for someone waking up on day 015, is the fog seeping out onto the beach, too?
🔪 if dean finds shelter and hears a ringing phone, how long will he be stuck inside from the fog?
🔪 considering the stocked pantry and the cornucopia of fresh food items, would Dean be able to make himself some prison hooch with any provided goods?

[thering]

whoops should have asked this earlier - would they be able to enter Daisy's room in the boarding house and if so, what will they find inside? Looking specifically for anything that might indicate she had set out somewhere (a note, emptied closet like she might have packed and gone somewhere) or that she was taken/did not intend to leave (forced entry, broken furniture, a cup of coffee gone cold, a voicemail left by Liam Neeson), and obviously anything obvious like if her windows got blown in, blood streaks, weird writing on the wall etc.

HOUSES

[villagemodama]

Use this space to claim a residential house for layout designing or exploration. Players are welcome to "claim" a house and then add/edit comments to provide details later. Because there are just too many numbers to list, simply specify a street and the general state of the house you'd like to claim/explore and the mod will provide your house number.

If you need to update your housing location, that should be done over here!

[cholesterol]

If Dean were to stumble onto #1301 Phillips Dr. and claim it in honor of the Sandersen sisters, what state would the house be in. It's a quaint, very compacted living set up, and it's got more than he needs.

MOD SPOT

[villagemodama]

Use this space to ping the mod to weigh in on your thread, such as if your character is searching quite specifically in a location, interacting with something that requires feedback, or you'd like to use one of your AP rewards, like Spot Hidden.

Doc Holliday | Wynonna Earp

[thering]

(Plotting post here)

Day 15 @ Malcolm & Raylan

[thering]

It was Raylan's turn to keep an eye on Malcolm so Doc had been the last to descend the stairs when the phone rang, suppressing a yawn as he entered the kitchen and living room area wearing just a singlet and trackpants despite the cold. Honestly, when he extended an open invitation to call him anytime to various people, he did not mean that sacred time when everyone is passed out having their traumatic nightmares in their borrowed beds and pillows.

"Does the Ober Eats deliver pizza at this hour?" he had inquired as light-heartedly as he can manage to whoever answered the phone. It was only after their own phone was answered that he noticed the faint ringing from the neighbours' houses. The sound of breaking glass had him antsy and restless but trying to venture outside while the fog had set in turned out to be a bad idea. This time it was Malcolm's turn to drag him back inside and Doc quietly set a new record for how early he's hit the bottle.

So, he's dressed and out the door at the crack of dawn, long coat upon vest upon someone else's blue, partially unbuttoned shirt upon a fresh singlet, heading towards Hirano as soon as the fog begins to thin out. There isn't a crater where the house used to be, which is a good sign. There is, however, an anomaly next door, which Doc does a double take when he glances around to ascertain where that loud bang had come from. His hat turns where his eyes go and his steps grind to a halt. Raising a hand, he brushes the backs of his fingers against Raylan's upper arm, attention still seized in the grips of the Mulcalley house.

"Those windows are all broken. And there is no glass on the ground." As in someone - multiple someones? Something? Something that was in the fog? - broke into the house, from the outside.

Day 15 @ Zed

[thering]

It had already been quite a day, running around unnesting the Russian doll of horrors, and he's only just made it halfway through. After knocking on several doors and inquiring around what familiar faces he did manage to come across in the morning, he has finally made it to the blue house where he understands Zed and John had moved into.

Honestly? He does not believe he has the energy or courage for this. It is only after he ascends the three steps and lands at her front door that he thinks that maybe he should have tried to come up with some kind of speech and rehearsed it in his head once or twice before knocking. It was a mightily spectacular argument, they had had over moonshine. Doc doesn't even know if they had been in contact ever since, considering they had found John in the house he first found John in, and not here.

There's dirt on his hands, and a bit of blood. Somehow the trite detail of dirtying the front door worries him. Has him rubbing his palms over his knuckles with his head lowered enough that his hat obscures his eyes, thumb and forefinger rubbing the ring that grants him his immortality like an unconscious nervous gesture.

🔥 john constantine | open to all | will match format

[hellblaze]

( Would you like to plot? Drop a line at the OOC PLOTTING! Or find me over at whisperstars, or Discord! )

➝ day 16 (with day 15 narrative) [ closed to zed ]

[hellblaze]

so bare my skin, and i count my sins, and i close my eyes, and i take it in.

[ john!

he whirls around to look at who calls out to him. the fog is so dense and its curling around every part of him. through the coughing fit he can see her. mop of curly black hair and still looking like she did on that day. without hesitation or thinking, john reaches out to grab her arms. he tries to grab onto her, to pull her away from the fog that threatens all of them. he feels blood come from his mouth as he falls forward, trying desperately to save her--to save them...

then he's there. the ugly bastard himself, laughing somewhere in the back of john's mind. his hands curl into her shoulders and she screams. she screams bloody murder, and all john can do is hear it ringing in his ears as it all becomes heavy. it's all weighed down somehow. there's more blood than air and the last of the light disappears.

it's darkness. pure darkness... and astra logue's screams in his ears.

it feels like eternity until something changes. the cold closes around him and john is coughing again, gasping for breath. his hands curl into the ground below him to pull himself forward on the rocks. rocks? he's disorientated, cold, wet---wet? he forces his eyes open and once it all focuses he realizes something.

a beach. this beach. he knows this bloody beach. this fucking beach.

john pulls himself up and turns his head to look behind him. there's no fear or panic this time. just the shifting of waves. he coughs again, bringing a hand up to his mouth as the water comes up. he bends over, hand on his knee, staring out at the grey and green water.

mathias township.

how the bloody hell did he get to the beach?

he's soaking wet. cold. where's his trenchcoat? he groans and leans his head back. he'd rather be covered in the dust again. it is surprisingly hard to move and he stumbles from the beach back up past the grey gull. the footsteps are heavy, but don't echo, as he makes his way back to the blue house he had originally intended to go back to before he found himself at the beach.

john stumbles up the stairs and forces the door open. his eyes turn to the woodwork, realizing that the magical wards have faded--faded? he carved those! his eyebrows furrow together in a dazed confusion. thank god there's a banister on the stairs, otherwise he'd have to crawl up them. his body is getting heavier the longer he moves. he's practically breathless once he reaches the top.

he grabs onto the wall to steady himself. it takes a surprising amount of will power to force himself to the master bedroom. he pushes the door open, half stepping into the room. that's when it hits him - all of it. he was dying.

astra--astra had been there. and nergal... and he still couldn't save astra. and then he died?

what was this then? a sense of humor from manny - making a waiting room look like mathias? john shuts the door behind him and turns to face it. his hands press into the wood to not only steady himself, but try to collect the jumbled mess of thoughts. his whole body starts to shake as he tries just to bloody keep it together.

dead and still no closer to saving astra.

except he knows he isn't dead now. he can feel a pulse from whatever mangled shit is left of his soul and heart. he knows deep down this isn't hell or purgatory. it's right where he left himself. how? how?

WHY was he still alive and back in this bloody fucking town?!

one hand slams hard against the door in frustration and a rare display of vulnerability. ]

➝ day 17 [ open ]

[hellblaze]

your Heaven doesn't want me, and your Hell won't let me in.

[ Possession, out of body experiences, dancing with demons and angels. He supposed that death would eventually be on that list. He just figured it would be a bit more... permanent. That or he would con his way out of Hell with Astra in tow and stand triumphant over his greatest failure. None of that had happened. Death hadn't been permanent, and if anything, he received a horrid reminder that his soul was still damned.

Whenever Mathias would offer him up to Hell for the taking.

Donned in a new coat and shirt - thanks to the lovely former occupants of 1387 Phillips Drive - John sits at the porch. His head is lowered, a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth, staring at the ground in front of him. There's a dust of snow at his feet. Odd, hadn't it been raining and sunny the last time he was here? Cold, sure, but more of a winter that was in London. His eyebrows drew together as he reached out to drag his fingers through the light level of snow.

Christ, when did he become so introverted? He did. So what? He was the man that laughed at Hell and kicked demons in the bollocks. Death shouldn't have gotten him this out of sorts. Of course, John knew the answer to his question already. It wasn't the death that bothered him. It was the fact that Hell didn't claim it's prize.

If Mathias could block their souls from passing over... then where the bloody hell had the townspeople gone? Why was he back? ]

Phil Coulson | OTA | will match format

[40seconds]

[ Want to plot a thing? Head on over to my handy plotting comment and let's chat! Or find me on plurk @ starkravinghazelnuts or on discord! ]

day 16 | open & closed (to Max and Quentin)

[40seconds]

Open

[ For someone who's already died once and been forcibly brought back to life against his will, death is still very much an unpleasant experience. It does make him laugh humorlessly, because apparently, death just doesn't seem to stick to him. The first time, it wasn't his choice, and it really wasn't his choice this time, but for better or for worse, he's still alive.

Sure, it wasn't the greatest thing in the world, reviving late at night when everything was pitch black and realizing he's back on the beach. And what's more, he's completely alone. Not that he really expected anyone to be there, but it was a long, lonely trek back to the boardinghouse.

It isn't until the next morning that Coulson realizes that someone's still missing: Daisy. He's already been to her room, but it's empty, and that's more than a little concerning.

There's only one thing to do: go outside and look for her, and hope that the fog that took him out the first time has dissipated, or at least, is a little less hell-bent on killing.

He can be found exploring the areas closest to the boardinghouse, intending to start close by and working his way outward. ]

Closed to Max & Quentin

[ It's later in the day now, and Coulson's moved a good distance away from the boardinghouse and its surrounding area. There's still no sign of Daisy, and he's beginning to feel desperate. He's also beginning to feel cold (freezing is more like it), but he can't stop until he's either found his missing team member, or he's found a sign that she's met a bad end. Neither is a desirable outcome, but he can't turn back until he knows for sure.

Pausing for a moment to blow on his chilled hands, he looks around as if to try and determine where he should go next. The air is nippy and the temperature is starting to dip, but he's not going to head inside until he has an answer. He's wearing several layers, but he knows it's not going to be enough if the temps keep dropping the way they are.

Freezing to death isn't really on his list of things to do, but then again, he just thinks about Daisy and the possibility of her being lost out here somewhere, and it spurs him onto continue, cold or no cold. She'd do the same for him. ]

day 17 | open

[40seconds]

[ Day 17 dawns, and Coulson is, in a word, down in the dumps. He spent almost the entire day yesterday searching for Daisy, until his stubbornness nearly led to him freezing to death. He would have, if not for the timely intervention of Max and Quentin. No, he didn't want to go back inside, but by the time they found him, he couldn't even feel his fingers or his feet, so what choice did he have? Yes, he would have gladly kept on going with his search until he found the missing Daisy, but that wasn't really an option.

Now he's firmly ensconced inside, and he's gradually resigning himself to the idea that for whatever reason, Daisy's not coming back. It's not right, though, because why would she just up and disappear? The possibility of foul play is still very much lingering in the back of his mind, but there's no proof of anything, and that's one thing that bothers him the most.

But he doesn't have the energy to investigate further. He's spent all his reserves after coming back after dying, and then conducting his exhaustive search the previous day. He alternates between holing up in his room and taking up space in the downstairs kitchen, staring blankly at the empty table surface in front of him, or sometimes at a rapidly cooling cup of coffee that he doesn't really care to drink. He's not good company right now, and he knows it, but he's grown tired of staring at the same four walls of his room. ]

Klaus Hargreeves | The Umbrella Academy | OTA

[bestfuneralever]

[Plot with me here or on discord @ loyalwolf#3540, or just throw something at me!]

Day 015

[bestfuneralever]

I. The Call Open to boarding house residents

{A ringing phone demands to be answered

CW: creepy vibes, panic

Klaus is in a dead sleep when the phone rings. He might have even been able to ignore it, except it's so damn incessant. He groans and turns over, leaning up on his arm and squinting against the darkness of the room before he stumbles over to pick up the phone. "This better be good." he mutters into the receiver.

At first there's nothing but a repeating click, and he almost hangs up. But that voice... “Don’t go outside.” A haunting sort of sound, whispered through the phone sends a shiver down his spine. Reminds him of being stuck in the mausoleum, so many voices crowding around him--

The line goes dead and he's left frowning, staring down at the phone before placing it back on the hook. "Well, I would have been sleeping, asshole." He isn't sure who the hell that was, but they weren't making very funny jokes.

He moves to settle back in bed, but he thinks he hears something from down the hall. He frowns and moves out into the hall. "Hey," he calls out to anyone else that might be up, too. "anyone else get a creepy phone call?"

II. The Body closed to revvedup

{One more brother laid to rest

CW: panic, intense upsetting emotions, dead body/death, death of a brother, grief

It didn't take long for news about the fog, and the deaths, to reach his ears in the populated boarding house. Five wasn't in the room when he'd answered the phone, but he hadn't thought all that much about it, really. Five rarely slept like a normal human being anyway.

But now... well, now he's a little panicked. Five didn't seem to be anywhere in the house and that meant his stupid, scrawny ass did something stupid. Probably. "Shit, shit, shit," he mutters under his breath as he tugs his shoes on and makes to run downstairs.

Except he nearly bowls a girl over in the hallway. "Shit, sorry," he mutters, grabbing her shoulders to steady her. "My- my brother's not here... I gotta go find him." He explains before he lets his hands drop and he turns to leave.

III. The Broken

{I am an emotional waterfall

Burial OTA
CW: dead body/death, death of a brother, gravedigging, grief

Finding his brother's body had been an emotional experience he would have rather not had to live out. His nerves are still an open, raw live wire as he digs. He keeps thinking about that blank, black, nothing he felt when he was trying to conjure Five's spirit. It was so hollow, so empty, it made him feel sick; he isn't sure if that was a direct consequence of whatever he was pulling on the energy of in Five's body, or if it was in his head but it was awful, either way. The yawning chasm of nothingness has him unsettled and he tries to push it, and what he thinks it must mean, out of his head.

The process of digging a grave takes a considerable amount of time, and there's hardly enough material around to make this a proper burial, so this crude rendition of a grave will just have to do. Tear tracks streak his dirt-smeared cheeks as he lays his brother down in the grave.

For a long, long while, he sits at the foot of the grave and sobs his goodbyes on deaf ears. It had been sixteen years since he'd had to say goodbye to a sibling. And it doesn't hurt one ounce less this time just because he's older.

Breakdown Open to boarding house Limit 1 response
CW: insomnia, depression, anxiety, detailed descriptions of a panic attack, brief mention of light self-harm, intense/heavy emotions, grief

Back at the boarding house, Klaus goes to his room and curls up on his brother's bed, staring up at the scribbles on the wall. None of it makes sense to him, but he supposes it never needed to, because Five was always the one that was going to figure this shit out. Except he can't now, can he? All those years spent fighting his way back to his family and he finally did, only to lose them in the timeline (or multiverse, or whatever) and die. How cruel even is that?

He tries to sleep, but it's impossible with so many thoughts flooding his head. The image of Five's dead body is seared into the backs of his eyelids every time he closes his eyes, and it propels him back to that mission gone so, so terribly wrong. The memory of Ben's body, then, too makes something in his stomach twist, and his chest gets tight.

The thoughts are impossibly fast, a slippery slide from one to the next before he could even take a breath, but the effects are a slow crawl across his body as the depressive feeling sinks deep down into his bones. Like a heavy weight is crushing every part of his body at once.

The anxiety joins the party not long after; pins and needles pricking at his skin and a knot settling low in his belly. Pressure in his chest as everything gets so tight, the struggle so fierce that it feels like he's drowning with every breath he takes in.

The stray string of thoughts of how he keeps having to bury his family, and that he's down two brothers now, and who's next, slams into him like he hit the concrete from a too-high point: First, the stray vague memory of Diego telling him how lucky he is that he can talk to anyone he loses whenever he wants whiplashing against his talk with Vanya in the car about Ben.

Ben, who he hasn't ever, ever, since the second his funeral was over, actually been without.
Ben, who had been his forever and unwilling partner in crime (and lust and addiction and the list goes on and on and on).
Ben, who is more gone than he's ever been.

Like Five when he disappeared that day at dinner, yelling in defiance at Dad, determined to prove him wrong (and only proving him so, so right). Klaus tried for months to conjure Five after that, always to no avail. That was the first time he had ever really experienced the kind of feeling associated with true loss, the way other people did. He didn't take to it very well at all.

The way everyone was gone when they all got separated in the 60's. Klaus spent ages trying to conjure the others, for the sake of closure. To know what happened, and be able to make peace with it. But he couldn't, and he had no reason to assume anything other than it was his fault he couldn't. A desire to try to find his siblings drove so much of his betterment in the 60s. If he was clean, he would be able to control his powers better, and maybe... just maybe, he might see his siblings again.

But now they're all separated again.

And Five is dead.

(dead, dead, dead)
And Ben is gone.
(gone, gone, gone)

And Klaus is all alone.

("Nobody needs your shit, Klaus. That’s why you're always alone.")

The thoughts fill him up, block his attention and he doesn't notice it when he slides from a quietly sad heap on the bed to barely able to breathe. The sobs are choking the air from his lungs and the vice wrench in his chest is pressing harder and harder against his ribs. When had he started hyperventilating? He doesn't remember digging his nails into his wrist like that, but there are red lines across porcelain skin already starting to fade as proof.

Now he can't think, the thoughts he's already had submerging him under the weight of the ocean of them. He can't move, frozen and rooted where he's curled up on his brother's bed. He can't stop crying and he can't remember how to breathe and all he can hear is the steady, rushing pulse of his heartbeat drumming in his ears.

If no one finds him, he'll eventually tire out completely and pass out where he lays, wrapped up in a blanket that, for now, still smells like family.

IV. Wildcard
You know the drill!

Day 016

[bestfuneralever]

I. The Real Boy For fika + 1 (Open to boarding house residents/visitors, 3-person thread)

{Sometimes, ghosts don't realize they're dead

Getting Five back was a peace of mind Klaus couldn't even begin to explain. Like a rush of relief that crashed over him the second he saw him. The fact that he could hug him? Not really anything like proof that his brother wasn't a ghost. They could end up solid enough to touch Klaus when they were around him without even all that much effort from him these days. Ben beat the hell out of him more than once in the 60's.

He's spent half the day trying to get Five to accept his fate, and Five's spent that time insisting that Klaus is clearly wrong. But neither is all that willing to budge on their stance, and nothing has been solid enough proof for either of them to concede.

"You know, this happens sometimes," he says, tone all matter-of-fact as he's lounged across his bed with a bag of popcorn he's munching on. "people die suddenly and unexpectedly and then they can't accept that they're dead."

II. The Disquiet OTA

{A haunting unease settles into these bones

Between all the panic and death, it's easy for news to get lost for a moment. But it isn't long before the realization that Daisy is missing reaches Klaus and he can't help wonder where she would have ended up. Had she been out in that fog? She should have come back like the others, right? (But not all of them came back, did they...) No one had mentioned finding her body, either, so that feels not as likely, anyway. But that leaves the maybe's wide-open, and Klaus' life has been weird enough for long enough that his imagination can play some pretty wild scenarios out in his head.

None of the ideas that have flittered across his mind as possibilities make the nervous energy prickling at his skin to make his muscles move into some kind of action ease at all. He might be found a pacing mess in one of the common areas of the boarding house; or someone might come across him wandering around town, poking his head into abandoned-looking shells of homes or other various buildings in hopes that maybe she'd just taken cover somewhere else for a few days.

His searching never comes up with a single trace of her, however, and he eventually slumps back to the boarding house, defeated.

III. Wildcard
You know the drill!

number five - the umbrella academy - closed and open

[fika]

( plotting comment or contact me on berezka or through discord! anything goes :) )

day 15 - narrative

[fika]

cw: panic, death

[ he lands in the thick fog, knees buckling from momentum, hitting hard pavement as he attempts to catch himself. he can't see shit aside from the milky dark, and instead of the expectation of the crushing headache getting better, it only gets substantially worse. ears ringing to the point of deafness and every gasp he tries to take sputters out in hacking wheezes.

it's funny, actually. there comes a moment when you know your end has come.

it would even be cathartic, if it wasn't for the terrible pain.

five has survived a lot more ends than anyone really should. but, it's actually offensive that this is what gets him. a dead scramble in the thick dark in a township that shouldn't exist, by the cold hard hands of nothing he can fight.

he thinks of the barn, hay itchy on his nose, in a world they should all be back in; the white hot heat in his chest and lungfuls of blood. five looks to his hands now, forcing himself to sit on his haunches. fingers glow, attempt to cling to time and set it back, or at least at pulling it to a standstill around him. buy him some time, buy him anything. but he's too weak.

it doesn't get him anything but panic, clawing harsh at his throat before he can temper it with reason. all his search for answers, every fucking lead is good for nothing before he could even try it and three minutes is a long time to suffocate, angry and alone. he hopes klaus had enough wherewithal to stay inside. he hopes klaus, and the handful of people he's met here, don't make the same stupid mistake.

(he doesn't want to die, and that scares him more than knowing he deserves it)

— until he's sitting back up, gasping and cold, on the same beach he'd first arrived on, the roar of waves impossible loud in his ears. ]

Ellie | The Last Of Us | Day 16 OTA

[enduresurvive]

Having recently gotten a guitar, Ellie goes the Grey Gull when there isn't anyone around. She knows people are dead and she can't deal with that at all, so she just...is here. Existing. Music is grounding; she's not playing for any audience, just for herself.

Ellie has a weird knowledge bank of songs she knows, which include some spiritual songs like Through the Valley to slow heartfelt acoustic versions of 80s music like True Faith or Take On Me.

If you come upon her when there's a particular lull and she thinks she's alone, you'll catch the first few stumbling notes of Future Days. She doesn't really sing this one, and she doesn't ever get all that far into it.

On the table beside her is her notebook with a few scattered pictures. Some of them are crossed out, faces with no eyes. Some of them are animals, forest scenery. There's a sketch of the Mathias township beach that they all woke up on. She's a little lost in her own world, distracted, but she's not totally unaware.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm hadn't yet been to the Grey Gull, but Raylan had told him about it. It was the first place the Marshal had been in Mathias, when the first of them arrived and there was nowhere to go.

In the aftermath of the fog and the deaths, the was a pall hanging over everything. Grief was heavy and their community was small. So, late morning of the 16th, Malcolm gave his housemates some space and some peace.

They weren't taking it well, but he wasn't sure they'd appreciate talking about it or even acknowledging that. They'd been more than generous towards him. He wouldn't push them.

He walked out towards the beach, spotting the restaurant as it came into view. He could hear the music, muffled, before he even opened the door. Once he stepped in, he looked around to see a young woman, strumming a familiar guitar. He didn't interrupt. He lingered at the edge of the tables and listened.

Raylan Givens | Justified

[tinstar]

[Plotting can be found over here or you can just have your character stumble upon him!]

Day 15 - Evening; Post burials

[tinstar]

Having finished their new gravekeeper duties, Raylan headed back home where he washed his hands before grabbing a bottle of moonshine. He could still hear Klaus's grief stricken sobs, could still see the haunted look on Doc's face and while tonight there was no fog or spookiness, it felt just as loaded as the night before. Raylan hated funerals, hated the open show of emotions that everyone else got to have with them, hated how they made him feel. It reminded him too much of the three gravestones in front of Arlo's, all bearing his last name, one of which bearing Raylan's. It reminded him of Aunt Helen. He cracked open the bottle and took a long swallow as he headed out to the porch and sat down.

Jill, Phil, John, Five, Claire. Five too many bodies. Raylan's mind turned towards Daisy. She was the only one missing - why? Like everything else in this damned town, it didn't make sense. And this time, there was no one to go take it out on. Even though it wasn't his night to mind Malcolm's night terrors, Raylan didn't think sleep was going to come to him easily.

So the Marshal would drink amid the evening cold and watch the sun go down on the porch.

Dean Winchester | Supernatural

[cholesterol]

Day 015 | Afternoon | Over the Hills And Far Away

[cholesterol]

CW | hopelessness, spoilers for 15x18 Despair in the first section.

( He wakes faced down in the sand. He can hear his own words as he stirs, fingers clutching his smartphone, dragging through sand as he pulls his stretched arm back.

Why does this sound like a goodbye?

Sand?

He breathes in, coughing from the damp air, memory flooding back to him. The Empty. Billie. Cas. Cas. Quickly, he pushes himself to a sitting position, coughing up damp beach air. He pushes aside the pain from his sore back and pulls himself up the rest of the way. His catches a glimpse of the handprint on the shoulder of his jacket, the last remnant of his best friend before he was swallowed up. A move that Cas had kept to himself, and had triggered himself. His moment of greatest happiness.

Dean exhales, breathing through that memory as the beach comes into focus. He wasn't on a beach. He wasn't even near a beach. There are no beaches in Lebanon, Kansas. But, there are beaches where a certain God could've dropped him. )

CHUCK!

( He yells it once, and loudly, waiting for a return voice. He spins around, and back. The crash of the waves give him something to narrow in on, to keep himself from having the panic attack he can feel rising up.

Wiping sand on his pants, he unlocks his phone and tries dialing Sam. With the phone to his ear, he hears the familiar chime indicating that he has no signal. Sure enough the screen says as much. The call can't be placed. Great. He needs to find a landline.

He high tails it off the beach quickly. He'd stay, but yelling expletives in Chuck's general direction is a waste of time. If he was separated from Sam, and from Jack, this was deliberate. So, now he needs either - a phone, a vehicle, a sign of where he is. Or, some combination therein.

What he stumbles onto first, off the beach, is a series of unmarked graves. The shoveled dirt is fresh. Is this Chuck? Instead of dissolving people, outright killing them off? He couldn't have chosen meteor impact or giant tsunami. No, wave of sun-temperature heat. Slow, agonizing depolulating.

He doesn't have to break into the General Store, at least. There's no vehicle and no keys to a vehicle, but there's a Slim Jim he rips open, biting off the end, before opening a bottle of water. He feeds himself first, setting the half eaten Slim Jim down as he searches the other shelves.

And then along the walls.

The desk, the counter, underneath, too. )

Not even a bottle.

( Town like this he knows the propieter slips something into his glass. But, maybe he carries a flask. He downs the rest of his water and takes a few more beef jerky sticks and sets down in the inside pocket to his jacket. )

Claire Novak | Supernatural

[waywardsister]

[ Just planning a little closed starter now - if anyone else wants to do a thing please hit me up on inkcharm or Discord: inkcharm#4573 <3 ]

Day 17 - [closed to Doc] - cw: ...... grave digging?

[waywardsister]

[ She doesn't get a shovel.

She doesn't even think to get one.

Day 16 is spent mostly indoors, catching up with Dean, showering and trying to chase the cold grip of death out ofher own bones - unsuccessfully.

Day 17... finds Claire visiting her own grave. Where she met Dean initially, where he'd tried to give her something of a hunter's funeral.

And for a long time, she just stands there, bundled up in thick clothes to ward off the outside chill at the very least. How long she stands there, Claire doesn't know. Just stares at that little makeshift cross that marks the spot.

X's are supposed to mark treasure. Here, there's only rot in the ground.

And yet...

She drops to her knees, and with a frustrated grund pushes her fingers through the biting cold of the first layer of snow, and into the earth below, baring her teeth with the effort. The ground is cold, but not frozen - and with her bare hands, slumped onto her knees, Claire begins trying to dig into her grave, trying to reach her own corpse, trying, trying, trying... ]