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The Village Mod ([personal profile] villagemod) wrote in [community profile] villagelogs2020-12-05 01:22 am

018-020 » what he hides

WHO: Everyone.
WHERE: Eastern/Central/Western Mathias.
WHEN: Days 018-020
WHAT: The fog recedes!
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. PM this account to have a warning added!
NOTES: Plotting post over here!

RECOMMENDED ♫ Graham Plowman "Edge of Darkness"





DAYS 018-020
THE HIDDEN REVEALED

“Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.”
— Benjamin Franklin


As the sun rises in the distance above the sea, the fog slips away from the unsettling town, winding through streets and across buildings until it is nestled soundly in the forest. There it waits, ready to snare any who dare test its limits — residents would do well to remember what happened the last time they encountered the fog so intimately.

With the fog receded, the western portion of Mathias is now revealed and available for exploring. There are more businesses on the town square and even some on the street that runs off the square. The schoolhouse is nestled by the southern treeline, not from the little makeshift cemetery at the end of Jackson Boulevard that is courtesy of a few kind residents in town. To the far north of the square is a sprawling garden, now covered in snow, and a greenhouse that once supplied the botanical shop. And to the west, beyond the square, is another residential district of the same size as that to the east. What is different, however...

These buildings are all in some form of decay. From the beginnings of rot to completely collapsed and little more than a pile of proverbial bones, none of these homes are anything resembling livable. Well, as far as one can tell, at least. For between the streets of Hill Lane and Stine road there is a crack in the earth. A dozen feet across and fifty feet down, the crack extends from one side of the forest to the other, either end cut off by the fog. The view to the other side is clear but there is no way across.


THE NEW ARRIVALS

There are quite a few new faces in Mathias on this day. Awaking throughout Day 018, they will find themselves laying in the snow beside that unsettling crack in the earth, houses both quaint and decaying surrounding them as the snow begins to cover their bodies. Best get inside and warm up, dears.




SPECTRES IN THE NIGHT

The days are short now that winter seems to have set in unseasonably early. Though the clocks in Mathias fail to properly keep time or sometimes even work at all, the sun rises around 8:00am and sets at 5:00pm. There is far more darkness than light in these days, but in that darkness there is, in fact, light.

In the distance all across Mathias, there are lanterns lit against that darkness. Their lights dance across the snow, the warm flickering shining like tiny stars and offering an almost ethereal glow to the crisp white snow. It would be a beautiful sight to behold... if it weren't for the shadowy figures that held them. With partially raised arms, the figures hold the lanterns and walk the streets of Mathias, drifting in between buildings and disappearing into the forest. Still yet, there are some that simply stand in place, as if waiting for something or someone.

No matter where or when these figures are seen, they always seem to be facing away from our residents, and attempts at reaching them are all for naught. They will fade from view if one gets too close, and return to sight when that distance is regained. And in the morning, those lanterns may be found in the snow, their lights extinguished but their glass somehow still warm.


STRANGER IN THE SNOW

Those investigating the western part of Mathias and venturing near that inexplicable crack in the earth will have the most unsettling feeling of being watched. Most of the time, there is nothing there and no one to be seen, but then—

On the other side of that expanse, sitting on a porch, in the shadow of a home, or standing in the oddly moonlit street, there is a man. His features are shrouded in darkness and not much can be discerned about him, but instinct tells you he is dangerous. There is a sense deep in your bones that he is maliciously amused.

He makes no move to speak, nor will he respond to any attempts on your part. Instead, he sits, or he stands, and he watches. By the end of Day 020, all sign of him will be gone, along with the eerie feeling of being watched.







LOCATIONS


Unless otherwise noted, all new locations have working electricity and other utilities.

BENEDICT BOOKS Nestled quaintly on the square surrounding the Town Hall, a thick layer of dirt covering the front windows. A portrait hangs at the front of the store to illustrate the namesake of the little shop... that may, in fact, not be so little. Dust covers everything in sight and detritus litters the wooden floor, as if someone left the door open and allowed half the forest inside. (more info)

MATHESON ANTIQUES Also on the town square is an antique store that is a lesson in chaos more than culture. The items within are stacked haphazardly, creating narrow aisles running throughout the space. Furniture, light fixtures, old revolutionary and civil war memorabilia, all of it is jumbled together with no rhyme or reason. Indeed, one wrong move could create an avalanche of aged wood and peeling paint.

POE'S CLOTHES Located on the town square, this shop carries only the basics. Loose jeans in a few sizes, khakis, solid color dress shirts and blouses, flannel in various styles, socks and underwear.

SPIN RIGHT ROUND RECORDS On the square across from the beauty store, the music shop is as dusty as everything else in this town has been. Tables line the walls of the long shop, filled with rows and rows of vinyl records, while a few wall shelves display cassette tapes for sale. One side of the store is for New items, while the other holds the Used section with items for resale. Residents may recognize some of the artists but many are unfamiliar to them.

CLINIC Outside the decayed, crumbling building just north of the square is a still miraculously intact sign with the name of the clinic's doctor, Dr. Ken Suzuki. There is no way to treat patients in this location, but with care, some salvageable supplies may yet be found in the remains.

BARKER BOTANICALS Not quite a flower shop and not entirely an apothecary, the botanical store to the far north of the square is something of an amalgamation of both. With a few broken windows to let in the rain, parts of the shop have been overtaken by nature, the house plants growing beyond their pots and rotted flower petals littering the floor to tell of seasons past. The still unclaimed walls are filled with decaying plants and jars of dried herbs and other vegetation, along with a few essences and tinctures.

GREENHOUSE A few dozen yards from the botanicals shop is a sprawling garden, now covered in snow, and a greenhouse that once supplied the botanical shop. The glass is still miraculously intact, though covered in grime so thick that one cannot see inside.

GALLERY The gallery is essentially a large empty space with framed and matted black and white photographs of the town lining the walls. There is a small selected of prints available for sale near the front entrance, and a few rooms at the back of the building — a dark room for developing photos, a small office, and a locked room.

MOVIE THEATER This single-screen theater is quite small, having only 40 seats, but there is a large collection of movies in its storage room. These are all old film reels however, so hopefully someone knows how to thread a film projector.

HISTORY MUSEUM Across the street from the Historical Society, this once esteemed wooden building has seen better days. Windows and doors are boarded up and there is visible rot and decay on the exterior walls. Part of the roof has fallen in and the accumulating snow threatens to collapse the rest of it as well. It is not wise to venture within.

HISTORICAL SOCIETY This brick building has also seen better days, though in a different sort of way. Where once had been carefully cataloged collections and cozy reading rooms for aficionados of local history, there are now stacks of bankers boxes and weathered tomes in every nook and cranny. There is no organization to any of it, everything seeming to have been stashed in a hurry and then left forgotten. Anyone who dares to dive into this archive will need to devote quite some time in order to find anything worthwhile. They will also want to bring their own light source — the electricity does not work here and the windows are quite dark from the accumulated dust and grime.

SCHOOLHOUSE A much smaller school than most of our residents might be used to, there are only a half-dozen rooms in the building, with a few comprising classrooms, meeting areas, and workspaces. All ages were taught here, and one might almost imagine the sound of children's whispered voices and distant laughter while within the empty building.





CONDITIONS UPDATE
SNOW continues to fall in Mathias. Days 18-19 see light snowfall that very slowly accumulates, but the snowfall turns moderately heavy on Day 20 and sees significant accumulation. The temperature hovers just below freezing and dips lower when the sun goes down.

VOICES are not openly haunting our residents, though they may still be occasionally encountered in the more heavily decayed buildings where some rooms seem to almost swallow whatever light tries to enter them.

THE FOG has receded from the town proper and much of the eastern and northern beach. The path through the northern forest to the lighthouse is now also clear.

DISAPPEARANCES continue to plague the town. While Daisy Johnson has returned, Zed Martin, Rey, and Quentin Coldwater have now vanished without a trace.


OOC UPDATES
MADNESS has now been unlocked. Congratulations to Inky for Claire earning the first Madness! Who will be next? (Please be sure to keep your sanity updated regularly; Stars has created an amazing tracker for anyone to use if they'd like.)

HELPERS are officially in residence! Kelly is our Registrar and Stars is our Librarian — both of these delightful members of our community are helping behind the scenes to keep things organized and updated (and doing wonders for the mod's own sanity levels), so please give them some thanks for their hard work!

REPORTING updates is still a thing that your mod and helpers beg you to do. Changes to locations, plot notes that affect the community, and discoveries should be reported over here so these can all be noted in their appropriate places. (For clarification, reported Discoveries are not public knowledge unless a character has ICly shared this information.)

A MAP of Mathias now exists, thanks to our wonderful Librarian! Please note that it is not to scale and there may be a few minor errors due to your frazzled mod. Expect updates in the future as more secrets are revealed.

BULLETIN BOARD — don't forget about it. That's all.


CLAIMING AP REWARDS
Normally, only one AP reward can be claimed per log, but due to the plethora of new and old locations to explore, this restriction is being relaxed. Instead, for this log only:
— Players may spend AP on up to three rewards, though only Spot Hidden may be repeated.
— If a player is spending multiple Spot Hiddens, they must be with different characters and in different locations.

If two characters are investigating the same location together, they may each spend a Spot Hidden on that location. Players should record their spent AP after the AP request has been approved. Sometimes there is nothing to Spot with your Hidden and the points will be "refunded" to use elsewhere.


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fika: (pic#14331184)

number five | the umbrella academy

[personal profile] fika 2020-12-06 08:44 pm (UTC)(link)
fika: (pic#14497076)

day 18 ⇢ open and closed

[personal profile] fika 2020-12-06 08:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[ 018. exploration, OPEN ] tomorrow is another day, and you won't have to hide away,
[ five is listless. as the days roll by, as the events that took place all but a few nights ago seem to be intent on not leaving him alone at night, five cannot keep himself still.

there’s an itch somewhere beneath his skin. he wouldn’t waste an opportunity to go looking through the new revelations within the town on a good day either, but this felt different in the mind of someone whose psyche was made of hairline fractures right now. a need for a thrill, maybe.

he just had to keep moving, because the idea of stopping meant the potential of something catching up. he had to push at the boundaries of this place, he had to keep looking and keep searching.

new places meant the possibility of answers. it meant another chance to change the pace of monotony and, no doubt, get a hundred more questions to anything he finds.

five can be found wandering around a few places - all around town, really, from checking the tree line for new faces, to ducking into houses and the derelict buildings. anyone can run into him, or catch up to him as he does this! he looks like a man on a mission, but even he doesn’t know what he’s looking for.
]

[ 018. antique store, closed to dean winchester ] no, you can’t go back to constantinople,
[ one of the places five tracks down towards is the old antique store, at the start of his excursion and it would be the crack of dawn, if five was keeping track of something as important as sleep. the sign boldly proclaims its name in fanciful font, while a peak inside, through the distorted windows, seems to suggest at the chaos held inside.

antique stores were a great place to go looking for a few tucked away mysteries. most of the shit looked useless at first glance, and likely was but …it was worth a shot. by the time five approaches the shopfront, someone else is standing there already - he hasn’t seen the man here before. must be a new arrival - there’s been more of those lately. how cozy.
] Seems like you had the same idea.

[ 018. the chasm, closed to one response ] in hell, you’ll be in good company,
[ five pushes onward, through the newly revealed streets. he looks at the carcasses of the houses, tracks along the main road towards what he notes as hill lane. there’s a slice of darkness up ahead and when he pushes forward, chin tucked against the collar of his jacket, it begins to look more and more like a yawning chasm. night has already fallen - early, if it even mattered in a town convinced of not having a relevant timeframe other than the understanding that time passed. he’d left klaus to his own devices after they’d finished their conversation with john, and chosen to take another perfunctory look around. he’s searching for something, all messy energy and age-old nerves shoved crudely into a boy’s body.

the specters with the lanterns are unsettling at best, but seeing as you couldn’t fight one, or prod one with a stick, it left five on edge, weaving past the sparse lantern light and keeping the shadows in his periphery until he finds the road ends.

it ends in a steep, startling descent down, and with the low light there’s no telling how far down it goes.

but what five does see is the other side, a clean sweep across, through to the other street. it’s an easy jump. he knows this, even with the limitations placed upon him here. still, he decided to pace across the chasm, trying to find any curve in the expanse that takes him just a little closer to the other side. he squints - doesn’t see anything too noteworthy on the opposite end except for that dip of possibility. of chance and discovery and danger and its that ringing thrill again, running along his spine and settling at the base of his neck as he rolls his shoulders, and takes a habitual, near comfortable step through spacetime to close that distance.

it works with far less surety than his expectations had set.
]
Edited 2020-12-06 23:18 (UTC)
fika: (pic#14360103)

018. the chasm - follow up - reply to this comment for the last option, please :)

[personal profile] fika 2020-12-07 12:08 am (UTC)(link)
[ predictably, in the true and well defined go fuck yourself energy of this place, this ends far less favorably than five had hoped for. it's an infuriating mark of miscalculation. but how would he know?

he lands on the other side, surefooted and on solid ground, even straightens, and runs a hand through his hair before a force hits in square in the chest - it would knock the breath out of him, and it does.

but not as much as being flung into the hard rocky face of the fissure, having been thrown back with so much force he clears the whole damn abyss.

his side cracks against the stone and he hears the snapping of bone before he really feels it. the side of his head scraped just harsh enough long the craggy face for him to feel the warm flow of blood run quickly down. adrenaline rushes loud in his ears and he scrambles for purchase, long thin fingers managing to grab onto enough of jutting rock to keep himself from falling down the pit. his legs kick out, knobby knees banging on the gagged edges as he fights to keep himself pressed into the wall and catch his breath. the latter task is sorely unsuccessful.

adrenaline numbs whatever agony is firing up in his side, in the fact that he is currently trying to pull his weight up with god knows how many fractured ribs.

its with one arm flopping over the edge that one might here a very loud, and very annoyed, breathless:
] Fucking shit! [ he's quickly running out of steam - and jumping to the top had stopped being an option as soon as he exhausted himself the first go around.

fuck, this is bad.
]
40seconds: (𝟢𝟤𝟩)

let me know if this needs adjusting!

[personal profile] 40seconds 2020-12-07 06:26 am (UTC)(link)
[ Coulson's not sure what brought him to the chasm's edge, aside from just plain curiosity and wanting to see what there was to see in this part of the town. It's just a crack in the earth, but there's not really anything to suggest what caused it. Neither is there anything noteworthy to see, so he turns as if to leave, but as he's doing so, he catches sight of something from out of the corner of his eye.

... Is that the person he met in the boardinghouse making those curious sandwiches? It certainly looks like him, and- wait. Is he jumping over the edge?

Coulson quickly turns back to stand just shy of the chasm's edge, not wanting to fall in by accident, but it's too late to call out or to do much of anything except stand there. It all seems to happen incredibly quickly, but he's sure it must not seem that way to the hapless individual who looks as though he made the jump, but suddenly and without warning, gets thrown right back to where he came from. Well, not quite. From Coulson's vantage point, it looks like he just got hurled rather violently against the cliff face, and he can only imagine how many bones must have gotten broken in the process.

Still, he can't see everything that's happening, but he's reasonably sure that getting hurled into a rocky wall can't be good. And while he's looking on, he spots thin fingers just barely appearing over the chasm's edge, and that's when he launches into action. ]


Hey! [ He's not about to just stand here and potentially let someone drop to their death. What he is going to do is try and grab hold of that arm that's flopping over the edge and pull Five back over. ]

Grab hold, I'm going to pull you back over.

[ Hopefully. ]
fika: (pic#14331219)

its perf!

[personal profile] fika 2020-12-09 12:17 am (UTC)(link)
[ it's with a distant sort of relief that five hears coulson's voice. his grip was starting to weaken, breath caught in his throat. dad might have prepared them for all sorts of shit - and if it wasn't reginald, it was the apocalypse and the commission that shaped enough of five's toolkit that prevented him plummeting down right away.

he can't teleport, is caught between the fear of trying and the necessity of it and it would hurt. so coulson's timely appearance is a gift of coincidence and even five can't deny that he needs some fucking help.

phil is grabbing at his arm and five's fingers clasp at his sleeve. this is going to suck.
] Do it quick. [ through gritted teeth, blood stinging his eye. adrenaline still numbing most of the pain, bending his knees to push off the rock face. ]
40seconds: (𝟢𝟦𝟥)

[personal profile] 40seconds 2020-12-10 09:32 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Honestly, when Coulson looks back on all this, he'll really just wonder to himself about the self-preservation, or lack thereof, that the seemingly younger element in Mathias has. Still, he's not so old that he's forgotten what it's like to be young. Never mind that Five isn't a prime example of youth, technically speaking, but Coulson's not privy to that, although he does have some suspicions. ]

You got it. And when you're up for it, we're getting you to someone who can patch you up. Or I'll do it myself.

[ Inexpertly, because he's not a doctor, but he knows how to place bandages and that sort of thing. ]

Ready? [ He waits a second for an affirmative response, and then he tightens his grip on Five so he can pull him up and over the cliff's edge, hopefully getting him back to safety. He tries to do it gently, or at least gingerly, but with something like this, there's no easy way of getting him back up without potentially aggravating some sore spots.

He'll apologize once he's out of danger. ]

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cholesterol: 🇩‌🇴‌🇳‌'🇹‌ 🇹‌🇴‌🇺‌🇨‌🇭‌ (purgatory road)

no, you can't go back to constantinople

[personal profile] cholesterol 2020-12-08 01:26 am (UTC)(link)
( dean's not sleeping great, never has, but when you don't have TV or, sure, porn, or the endless scroll on your phone, you get bored early. after checking to make sure Claire is home and asleep and okay, dean heads out with a grey beanie on and his signature green jacket. Castiel's handprint remains on the left shoulder, the dark red remnant of blood not cleaned yet. And it smells vaguely like moonshine when he'd poured a little on it accidentally, before Claire's hunter funeral.

The one he would've done.

It's early when he sees that the fog has rolled back. There are stores and buildings he didn't see before. He's sure of it. He's always been good with directions. When your dad drops you off in the middle of a city you don't know and he expects you to find him and your little brother? You get good with directions.

He approaches the antique store first, leans in and holds his hands around his face. He looks back.
)

This place, it wasn't here yesterday?

( Wasn't able to be reached, he means. He figures the fog keeps and preserves. It just -- stops them. )
fika: (pic#14446890)

[personal profile] fika 2020-12-09 01:22 am (UTC)(link)
[ they both can lay claim to sleepless nights and bad habits.

five wouldn't say he was getting used to the fog's tendencies of revelation; but maybe, beneath all that simmering annoyance theres a begrudging sort of respect. somewhere really deep fucking down.

five shrugs.
] No path to it before, at any rate. Looks like a bunch of junk. [ that said, he steps towards the doors, rather than away from them, as the dismissive statement would imply. ]

You got here recently, right. [ more of a statement than a question. most things were with this master of conversation here. ]
cholesterol: 🇩‌🇴‌🇳‌'🇹‌ 🇹‌🇴‌🇺‌🇨‌🇭‌ (they told me)

[personal profile] cholesterol 2020-12-09 04:30 pm (UTC)(link)
It's probably a bunch of junk.

( But, he can stop his nosy behavior and look Five in the eye. )

Yeah. Woke up faced down in the sand. You're a Mathias veteran?
fika: (pic#14410162)

[personal profile] fika 2020-12-10 10:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Mm, [ how far down does dean have to look ]

Unfortunately, yeah. Been here since day one of everyone arriving to the shitshow. [ Five offers a shrug, more nonchalant than the distaste he's actually feeling towards this place, and steps towards the door to try the handle.

he's not very surprised that it opens after a single, persistent tug, rickety door creaking open.

it certainly smells like a bunch of aged junk.
] Cozy.

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descendent: (pic#14465032)

exploration!!!

[personal profile] descendent 2020-12-09 09:18 am (UTC)(link)
[ elena's only been in town for a few hours. bone-deep tired, she keeps lugging herself around, mindlessly walking in a bid to explore the lay of the land and see if anything within this town could pinpoint her to how far away she was from mystic falls.

her hair's pulled over the right side of her shoulder and she wraps her arms tightly around herself, still in a leather jacket that she's finally zipped up to the very top of the zipper line. her converse shoes aren't appropriate footwear for snow, but she hasn't had time to prioritise shoe shopping. this town is so vacant yet so full that she's afraid to enter any buildings in case she ends up finally swallowed whole.

the derelict buildings are interesting. she's seen towns that have renovated buildings that are still constructed of their original materials and painted the bright colours they'd adorned back during their prime, but this one isn't like that. it lacks the welcome vibe and it lacks... everything. this town is like a chest without a heart.

when a boy appears from one of them, elena is drawn to him like a moth to a flame. ]


Hey. [ her brows furrow slightly as she tilts her head up in greeting. her arms are still wrapped around her. ] There's nothing in there, is there?
fika: (pic#14497085)

[personal profile] fika 2020-12-12 01:14 am (UTC)(link)
[ five has been restless since he'd come back from the dead. it was, all in all, not a experience he would recommend. but it opens up the potential there, a loophole that lacks permanency and that doesn't bode well for someone who is prone to a lack of self preservation.

he is restless, seeking something that he won't admit is the thrill of fear, sharpened by a slipping stability he will not ever confront. everything's fine. he's fine.

he's fine and that's exactly why he's sticking his head into every derelict building he sees, curious and drawn to the stark difference of many of the residential houses they'd come to on their first arrival.

this one doesn't yield much and he scuffs his shoe into the setting snow.

his attention snaps up as the girl approaches - new, its automatically evident in everything about her: the inappropriate clothing for the harsh oceanic chill, the uncertainty. that underlayment of concern most of the new faces have in seeing him. it isn't always blatant, but he knows the look, all in all.

his mouth rises and falls. its difficult to call it a smile, for how quick it fades and for all its warmth.
] Nope. Not unless you're looking for mothballs.

[ a beat. ] You just get here?
descendent: (pic#14315199)

[personal profile] descendent 2020-12-12 02:10 am (UTC)(link)
[ elena thinks to ask him if it's obvious, but she imagines her question is an obvious one in itself. if she wasn't new, she imagines she'd be like him, comfortably wrapped up for the winter chill and sneaking into homes that… don't appear lived in at all.

it's strange to be in a town that has the skeleton of being alive, but there's nothing inside of it to even suggest it's breathing but the people she keeps meeting. there's a handful of them now that she can name, her new companion hopefully another one to add to that alarmingly growing list.

so, she nods. ]
Yes. [ she lifts a shoulder and teases, ] Looking for mothballs was somewhere in the middle of my list of things to do today.

[ it makes her feel warm to be playful. ]

How many houses have you been in so far?
fika: (pic#14430487)

[personal profile] fika 2020-12-12 03:08 am (UTC)(link)
[ five snorts. because, to be fair, that was kind of funny.

he stuffs his hands into his coat's pockets, taking stock of her - definitely not fit for the cold with those fabric shoes, jesus christ. as if he hadn't been wearing those stupid schoolboy shorts when he first arrived.
] Well, don't worry. You'll have plenty of time for that.

[ He shrugs at the question, looking down the derelict row. ] Two or three.

[ listen, since when did he become one of the honorary members of the welcoming committee?

five will not lay claim to caring about every single new face that showed up. but he's learned fast and quick that this place drags in people from all ends of worlds. which means a different sort of perspective and while this ray of sunshine typically expects those different perspectives to be shit, it doesn't do anyone any good to simply walk away. she was unlucky enough to find him and for all his prickliness, there was no point in making this harder for anyone. misery in company and all that.
] If you got questions, let's get into the next house.

[ his small way of saying 'before you freeze out here' without actually voicing it. ]

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seems about right

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fika: (pic#14497078)

day 19 ⇢ closed & open

[personal profile] fika 2020-12-06 08:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[ 019. persuasion, closed to daisy johnson ] oh lord, i ain’t coming home with you
[ one would think after untimely end by a malevolent fog, five’s mood couldn’t get worse. one would be very, deeply wrong.

his mood has spiked from bad to horrible, all bottled anger held tight in a pint-sized stature. he was reaching a peak, warn so thin and ready to snap at near any small provocation, because above all else, this wasn't a person who was used to waiting out an injury. one look at him and you’d think of a caged animal, pacing as close to the bars of its cage as it can and you wound’t be terribly far off.

damn the restrictions that this fuckville has on him.

he finds himself back at the crack in the earth, between hilll lane and shit-knows street. his head is throbbing, the cut still burning warm in the cold of the air, just along his hairline, a purpling curving along his cheekbone and jaw.

which says nothing of the mangled side, of the gnarly bruising that’s all sorts of deep red and burgundy and it hurts to breathe, let alone move.

but he does anyway, because there’s something vicious that sits in the base of his throat, that catches in his chest and presses in around him. he feels it now, as he stares at the abyss below, and sends a rock tumbling down it, just to see if he can hear it hit bottom. would the fall kill him?

by the lost sound, it likely will. and he doesn't feel fear from that at all.

his eyes scan along the opposite edge, porches and trees and grass all thrown silver in the moonlit, finding himself disappointed by a lacking of a provocation. that is until they scrape along a figure. for a moment, he almost doesn’t register it until he snaps back, brows furrowed and expression sharpening. his posture shifts - even if moving sends a shrill sort of protest through his side - footing planted.
] Who the hell…

[ so ensnared by this figure in the distance - taunting, he’s sure that asshole is taunting him - that five doesn’t hear that he isn’t alone. ]

[ 019. exploration, OPEN ] my life’s a bit more colder
[when five is found on day 19, it is between whatever shops are closer to the boarding house or within the boarding house itself.

this is a general catch all, and please feel free to yolo any encounter you’d like to have with five here. he is going to be in a terrible mood, but otherwise game for anything!
]
Edited 2020-12-07 00:46 (UTC)
vampirebats: (pic#14493362)

Exploration! Let me know if this is okay <:

[personal profile] vampirebats 2020-12-16 10:34 am (UTC)(link)
[He can handle freaky. He likes to think he can handle freaky real fucking well, but after seeing weird phantoms and being watched by some jackass specter who seems to be getting off on all this? He's at his wits' end.

And yet here he is, out in the cold and making his way through the town. It's the kid who catches his attention, seemingly by himself. There are too many fucking kids around here for his liking.]


Find anything interesting? [He calls out, conversationally enough.] Or am I gonna be wasting my time, going through any of these shops?
fika: (pic#14525547)

absolutely!!!

[personal profile] fika 2020-12-19 07:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[ five's sanity had only managed to linger on the brink of stable because any lingering emotion was replaced by visceral, bone deep anger.

amidst the pain of broken ribs, smarting something fierce from a day ago, comes remarkable clarity. he'll solve this. he'll figure it out, and will sit in the satisfaction of outplaying whatever stupid forces think they can pull all the strings.

because they can't. nothing's ever infallible. and it's with this mindset in mind, and a steaming cup of subpar coffee - he has to find ways to keep his energy up - five sets to a slow travel down the street.

truthfully, he was looking for this alleged clinic. was about to step forward in spacetime to cover the distance left when the voice calls out.

five turns, chooses to pivot on his heel with a stiffness befitting his actual old age. he's met with a face he hasn't seen before. they've been getting more of those these days...
] Depends on your definition of interesting.

[ says the apparent kid with a cup of coffee and a purpling bruise across his cheek, in what might be the least helpful answer possible. ]
vampirebats: (pic#14493380)

Sorry for the delay! I didn't anticipate December eating up my time!

[personal profile] vampirebats 2020-12-28 09:21 am (UTC)(link)
[Negan has seen kids wise beyond their ages in the environment he's in... hell, he's had crazy respect for a couple of the ones who've managed to survive a goddamn Apocalypse, but--

this little fucker? Man, that's a hell of a look he's got on his cute little squishy face. It gives him pause.]
Anything useful for surviving.

[He tilts his head curiously.] The hell happened to your face, anyway? And you know, they say coffee stunt's your growth. I mean, far be it for me to comment, but...
fika: (pic#14410162)

omg don't worry, i'm in the same boat!! it's been a Month (tm)

[personal profile] fika 2020-12-28 02:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[ don't you ever mention his squishy little face again! he's growing into it. ]

Then no. [ surviving in this place was also, apparently, very relative. you didn't need to fight off hordes of hell-knows-whats, but there was murder fog. and protecting yourself against the incremental weather seemed like...common sense.

but, through the growing handful of interactions five has had in this place, he's getting real good at recognizing the look most people seem to give him.

he'd like to say he's used to it, but the reality is, it does nothing to dampen an already shitty mood, and its a miracle he doesn't crack a tooth with how hard he clenches his jaw, and takes a slow sip of his coffee instead. it's already almost cold.
] A difference of interests. [ with a cliffside. his dimpled smile is forced as he takes a very sore step to go around. ] And thanks, but I think I'll be just fine.

[ let him waddle his way to the clinic in peace negan, god! ]

'Tis the season, I guess!

[personal profile] vampirebats - 2020-12-31 06:06 (UTC) - Expand

absolutely! happy new year!!

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Happy new year to you too!

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fika: (Default)

day 20 ⇢ open and closed

[personal profile] fika 2020-12-06 08:52 pm (UTC)(link)
(placeholder)
fika: (pic#14407782)

day 18 ⇢ closed to doc

[personal profile] fika 2020-12-09 12:32 am (UTC)(link)
[ 018. knock knock, closed to doc holliday ] push shove, a little bruised and battered
[ to be fair, he doesn’t necessarily remember the walk over from the cliffside to the front porch of doc’s home that was becoming steadily more familiar. apparently, he had enough wherewithal to navigate, but things were certainly hazy.

it hurts to breathe, and he has to settle for shallow little gasps through clenched teeth, but that’s par the course with broken ribs. how many had he broken? 2? 3? did it fucking matter? he’s had coulson help him enough, pride stinging as harshly as the gash across his temple, blood finally slowing from dripping all the way down his chin.

the other man had managed to scoop him up just in time, and he was alive. nothing like the shock of pain to keep on proving that.

five stumbles up the steps, probably mutters something to coulson that’s equally dismissive and too tired to hide the gratitude, either. his knock is heavy and sparse and he’s leaning heavily against the doorframe, hoping that doc’s inside.

when it cracks open, five will croak out:
] Hey. Do you have a bandaid.
Edited 2020-12-09 00:32 (UTC)
thering: (Default)

[personal profile] thering 2020-12-09 07:04 am (UTC)(link)
For better or worse, hardly anyone ever comes visiting. The phone number is plastered around the bulletin board plenty, and they have been diligently answering the phone ever since that murderous fog or whatever the hell it was attacked the township, but all has been relatively quiet since they hosted the moonshine open bar in the house across the road.

For a moment he thinks it could be someone like Dean, coming over to kick off their drinking session the porch. Alas, any thoughts of drinking go up in smoke when it's two of their recently resurrected residents loitering around in the cold, one of whom is looking like he might have gotten into an argument with a woodchipper.

"Christ," he greets gruffly, eyes darting down to try and assess what damage he can see. He moves in to help the young-old man, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him away from the doorframe, tugging him inside. That's two people now who have turned up bleeding all over the damn place.

"Did a pack of coyotes move in while I wasn't looking?"
fika: (pic#14407785)

[personal profile] fika 2020-12-10 10:43 pm (UTC)(link)
First off, there might still be drinking, though likely not of the same vein as it would be between Doc and Dean.

To his credit, he tries to keep himself steady on his feet, though that's a little harder to manage, stumbling forward as Doc ushers him in and there's a small hitch of breath in protest. Everything hurts, adrenaline finally let up, that rush of cold buzzing through frayed nerves. Nothing he hasn't felt before.

Except, well, this was kind of a first in a weird way too. He laughs, a single and uncomfortable burst, more nerves than anything else. "Close enough. A cliffside," he croaks, picks a point to focus on before wiping the blood off his brow with his jacket sleeve. He's going to need a new one anyway. "I'm getting real fucking sick of this place."
thering: (07)

[personal profile] thering 2020-12-11 12:14 am (UTC)(link)
Everyone has been echoing that sentiment, more or less. Actually if it wasn't for being kidnapped or the murderous fog or the strange dismembered voices he doesn't mind this place so much. It's quite similar to that small town life that he is used to. And he has met and gotten acquainted with many of the colony. For the first time they are not also Wynonna Earp's friends. He is carving something small and meaningful out for himself.

Guiding Five over towards the closest seat, which happens to be a dining chair, Doc rolls up his sleeves and bends a little at the knees, starts attempting to peel the jacket off Five's shoulders.

"What happened at this cliffside?" He can guess, but he would let Five speak. He could be frustrated, patronising on his 'I told you so' high horse whilst reiterating what he had said several moons (and several moonshines) ago about not pushing himself using those abilities of his. He is not. Only concerned.

'I told you so' did nothing to salvage the absolute shitshow that went down at the OK Corral. It is not a salve for their current predicament.

"There anyone else we need to be fetching from this cliffside?"
fika: (pic#14384688)

[personal profile] fika 2020-12-12 01:27 am (UTC)(link)
If you take the fact that they are all stuck in the ass-end of a dimensional sneeze aside, and the killer fog, and the messing of powers? No, this place wouldn't be so bad.

However it is, perhaps, uncharacteristic in the expectations that Five has assigned to himself, that he finds starts of attachment forming to a select few faces here. All sharing a similar fate or displacement, and just that smattering of misery here and there to keep their interests unified. He isn't alone this time, and maybe he should considering acting like it.

There's a fear in that, too - Elliot knew the Hargreeves for how long, before he got murked? It didn't take much. They were always the harbingers of disaster, and for how hard Five tried to protect family and world both, he couldn't deny that.

Maybe he'll bite down the bitter guilt later in the night. For now, he drops himself onto the chair, and tries to help Doc disentangle a gangly arm out of his coat. He'd be cursing right now, but all he manages is another hiss.

"Tried to reach the other side," does that meet your guess, Doc? He glances up. "It runs between two streets. I got over fine!" He leans forward, hands on his knees, knuckles white and scraped. "Something swatted me off the edge."

He snorts, and promptly winces, shakes his head to the final question.

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