villagelogs | 021-023 » the ghosts of fallen leaves

021-023 » the ghosts of fallen leaves

WHO: Everyone.
WHERE: Eastern/Central/Western Mathias.
WHEN: Days 021-023
WHAT: A cold storm approaches.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. PM this account to have a warning added!
NOTES: Plotting post over here!

RECOMMENDED ♫ Emily Kinney & Lauren Cohan "The Parting Glass"

DAYS 021-023
THE WORLD TURNS WHITE
“Are ye the ghosts of fallen leaves, O flakes of snow,
For which, through naked trees, the winds A-mourning go?”
— John Banister Tabb
The howling wind is what wakes the residents of Mathias each day now as the world turns slowly into a bleak stretch of white. Snow continues to fall in thick curtains of flakes that accumulate on trees and rooftops, swirling sideways in the gusts of wind that bow trees and whistle through any crack they can find. The drifts of snow grow taller against the buildings and the wind makes the already freezing temperatures feel bitterly cold.

By day 022, the far ends of streets begin to resemble the hazardous fog with how little becomes visible as the winds pick up. Buildings can still be discerned as dark shapes but the weather's warning becomes clear — a storm is coming. And by day 023, the storm arrives properly, the wind still screaming through the streets like a winter banshee announcing so many deaths to come. These conditions are far from hospitable and only the truly mad would be foolish enough to venture outside in weather such as this.

THE NEWLY ARRIVED
With an embrace of wintery white, Mathias offers a chilly welcome to its newest residents. They awake along the southern treeline bordering Mathias, near the small makeshift cemetery containing a handful of wooden markers erected without names or signifiers of those buried within. And not far from them is the schoolhouse, where in a snowdrift they will the frozen corpse of a young woman named Rey.

LIGHTS IN THE DARKNESS
“A lantern can give you light only when you light it”
— Munia Khan
When residents wake on the morning of day 021, they will find outside in the snow the abandoned lanterns of those shadowy spectres who have moved so silently through Mathias. Each nestled in a patch of frozen white outside their door, the lanterns are now cold to the touch, the half-burned candle within each one seeming to have been lit so very long ago. Inside the glass encasement is a small rolled piece of paper, upon which is written:

keep it lit
There is nothing more, and the prior owners of these lanterns will not return within these days.

There is one lantern waiting outside the building for each resident wherever they are sleeping — the exception for this is those who may have already claimed a lantern as their own. Removing a lantern from its resting place results in no apparent reaction, nor does lighting or not lighting it. However, whatever residents ultimately choose to do with these lanterns should be reported.

CONDITIONS UPDATE

— SNOW continues to fall, resulting over the three days in upwards of a foot of accumulation. The winds blow in gusts over 35 mph.

— 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 still receded from the town proper and much of the eastern and northern beach, with the path through the northern forest to the lighthouse still clear on day 021. On day 022, however, as the storm worsens, the fog returns to the paths in the forest, urging residents to stay huddled within the town proper or else.

— DISAPPEARANCES continue to plague the town. While Zed Martin has returned, Rey's corpse will be found in a snowdrift near the Schoolhouse; she disappeared on day 018.

— THE STRANGER is gone.

— THE SPECTRES are gone.

OOC UPDATES

— DISCOVERIES have been collected and collated for your review. Please note that this is OOC information only, put together for the purpose of helping you as players see connections and possibilities for CR and your own character's potential avenues of exploration and investigation. (If we are missing something, please report it so we can add it to the list.)

— AP REWARDS have a new option now — Ideas may be requested if you find yourself stuck. You may now claim up to 2 rewards per log: (1) idea and (1) other reward.

— SANITY may be regained in two ways: self-medication and treatment. In Mathias, this means such coping mechanisms as drinking or drugging oneself into a stupor that allows them to face their fears and issues, or talking to someone about those fears and issues. Since both of these will take some time, best get started. (A form will be added to the Sanity page.)

— REMINDERS — Don't forget about the bulletin board. Please continue reporting your updates to locations, plots, and discoveries. The map of Mathias has been added to the locations page for ease of reference. Make sure your character's sanity level is kept updated. Prospective players are still joining the TDM, so it's recommended to track new top-levels so you don't miss them.

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Plotting comment, or just throw something at me!

Edited 2020-12-20 15:33 (UTC)

I. Greeting New Arrivals Open to new boarding house residents

{Welcoming Committee

One might find him wandering to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, sitting on the couch with a notebook doing some idle doodling of a spaceship or a violin, or hogging time in the bathtub on the third floor bathroom.

If he sees someone new, he'll greet them simply with a smile, a little wave of his fingers and, "Welcome to the crazy." with a soft chuckle.

II. Insomnia Open to boarding house residents/guests

{I don't need no sleep

As has become rather the new normal over the last several days, Klaus can be found awake at all hours of the night, coffee mug in hand, and usually a sketchbook filled with various doodles in his lap. He prefers being downstairs in the living room when he can't sleep; Five may not sleep all that much more than him, but... well. He doesn't want to disrupt it when he does decide to.

People may have noticed the drastic irritability in him over the course of the day, and on further into the night as well. Interruptions in whatever he may be found doing grate on his nerves more obviously than normal and his frustrations bloom in the space of a finger snap. Approach with caution.

Edited 2020-12-21 00:39 (UTC)

Sometimes, he just needs to get out of the boarding house, no matter how cold it is outside. Klaus has never been very much of a "homebody" kind of person, so even if he doesn't really feel like he's got a place in the masses trying to put together the answers to this place, he wanders. Sometimes it's to check on someone he knows, others it's idle walking.

Today is more of an idle walking sort of day. He hasn't been sleeping recently, filled with some irrational, abject fear that if he dares to let the exhaustion take him, something drastic will happen. He can't risk it, so he chugs coffee like it's going out of style to keep himself wired. He's short-fused and way too many things back at the boarding house were getting on his nerves so he decided a walk was in order.

He's oddly drawn to the theater, and that is the only way he could think to describe how it felt to walk down the street toward the place. He just. Knew he needed to be there. For some reason he couldn't even begin to guess. He's never been a big believer in fate or destiny or anything, maybe more due to abject rejection of the very thing his father tried so desperately to press on top of the shoulders of all his children than an actual rejection of the belief of it itself. But still. There were a number of times in his life that he just knew something, or needed to be somewhere, and it happened to work out just so.

Today is one of those days, and Klaus has long-since learned to just follow the feeling when it happens. He wanders inside, glad for the reprieve from the icy temperatures outside even from the dilapidated building. He wanders through the front of the theater and glances around. He wonders how much of anything in here actually works. Popcorn would be great, if he's honest....

He pushes the door to the theater room open and pauses just inside the doorway, blinking to force his eyes to adjust to the low-light. Doesn't seem like there's anyone in here, but there's a twist in his gut that keeps him rooted where he stands. "Anybody in here?" he calls out to the dark room, not really expecting an answer back.

Zed has no idea where she is. She doesn't rememeber leaving the house so she had no idea how she even got here. She hadn't wanted to go far from John since his return - since he had come back from the dead. That was something she was still trying to understand not that she was going to question. But she was worried that if she went too far that he'd be gone - only this time he wouldn't come back.

But something felt off and it wasn't just that she didn't know what had hapepned. The room is dark but she can make out just enough to think that it might be the theatre. Zed hadn't gone into the building before, she had been to busy looking for answers about this place. Movies just hadn't seemed like a real priority. She jumped slightly when she heard a voice and turned in the direction of it. It's one she didn't know but there were a lot of people in town that she hadn't met yet.

"Uh... yes, hello," she called back. She took a step in that direction.

He blinks in surprise at the answer back. “O-oh, hey!” He waves, then stops because it’s dark and that’s stupid. “I didn’t actually think anyone was in here...” which makes him calling out into the dark also kind of stupid. He’s full of it today, apparently.

“Did you just... get here?” He asks casually, wandering away from the door and down the middle aisle of the seats. “It happens, and it seems like people show up in different places sometimes...”

Zed is beyond confused. Did she sleepwalk? Had one of those strange events that had plagued this town happened? She felt a bit disoriented like she had just been woken up from a dream and had no idea where she was. And where was John?

She cautiously moved towards the voice. "Uh... not exactly," she paused. "Unless you mean the ...movie theatre? I don't know how I got here?"

Not exactly. That answer picks the string of something in the back of his mind and Klaus pauses just a little short of halfway down, letting her come to him, if she wants to. “Are you, uh- are you Zed?” He asks curiously, head tilted slightly to own side.

She sounds confused and disoriented but not in the way fresh arrivals tend to. She knows what town she’s in, even if she hasn’t said its name, it’s just the specific location she’s unsure of. “I’m Klaus. I know John. He’s been looking for you.”

She was surprised when he said her name especially since she didn't recognize him. Even more surprised when he said that John was looking for her. What had happened? She does go the rest of the way and looks at him curiously. Something had happened and somehow she got the feeling it wasn't good.

"Yeah, I am," she nodded, brow furrowed. "John's looking for me?!"

"We finally meet," he mutters softly, shaking his head a bit. "I think John's been trying to make that happen for awhile now. Funny, how he isn't even the reason we meet." He huffs a soft, amused sound.

He scratches at his cheek and nods a bit, "Uh, yeah... you've been gone for--" How long had it been? Well, he really isn't sure. "I don't exactly, but definitely a few days. Maybe a week?" He frowns a little. She seems... shocked about it. Which makes him think she must not know she was gone.

Zed's eyes widened. Gone?! A week?! She couldn't have heard that right, there had to have been some sort of mistake. She had no memory of being missing or of anything happening. Her brow furrowed and then she ran a hand through her hair. That didn't make any sense. She remembered going to bed in the house she shared with John and then the next thing she knew she was here.

"I... are you sure?!"

"I mean- not exactly. I know it's been a few days, for sure. But..." He shrugs. "John'll be able to tell you exactly how long it's been." He reaches out to try and rest a hand on her shoulder. "Hey... it's okay. You're here now. For whatever cold comfort that might actually be." He manages a soft, small smile.

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chicartista - 2021-01-25 08:01 (UTC) - Expand

end? ♥

bestfuneralever - 2021-02-07 13:09 (UTC) - Expand

I. Hallucinations

descendent

{Can't tell what's real and what's a memory

Klaus' insistent refusal to sleep has taken a sharp downward spiral. Sometimes, he's even hallucinating he's in the graveyard, early in the morning long before the sun would even think to rise. He can see his Dad nearby, set up in a chair, making demands of him about his powers.

"We are not done here, Number Four." Reginald's tone is sharp, a no-nonsense sort of man. "You are not trying hard enough. You must reach further with your ability or we're never going home."

If one were to find themselves in the kitchen this morning, they will inevitably find Klaus, huddled down on the floor, knees drawn up, hands over his ears. "I'm tired. I wanna go home and sleep! Please?"

"You are too young to understand the concept of home, Number Four, and you do not deserve sleep until you have successfully channeled every one of the dead interred here." His words snap sharp through the air, with no room left to argue.

"Please, Dad? Please..." He sounds on the verge of tears as he begs the man no one else can see things he would never allow.

"Perhaps you need proper motivation," Reginald makes a vague motion with his hand and Pogo appears, holding a small box to present to the boy. "I have found your missing cat. I have taken the liberty of scraping him off the service road. I want you to contact the animal, Number Four."

"No, no, no..." he lets out a soft whine. "Not Oswald... Ozzy was my only friend." Tears roll down his cheeks at the hallucination of a long-gone memory.

Someone really ought to pull him out of this...

II. Idle Lounging Open to boarding house residents/guests, multiple responses fine!

{Ignoring the world

After his episode that morning, Klaus finds the exhaustion resting deep down into his bones. It's so much harder to stay awake now, with the fatigue hanging heavy on his shoulders, but he manages, somehow.

He's taking the rest of the day easy, and will be found at home, aside from when he eventually goes to Town Hall for John and Phil's information sharing town meeting. He might go bother someone at their room in the boarding house, or be found downstairs making something to eat in the kitchen.

Edited 2020-12-21 02:08 (UTC)

It's been almost a week since Klaus slept last. At first, it was just general insomnia, he was used to that, he never had a great relationship with sleep, it was normal for him to have issues with it. But as the days drew further on, there was something more wildly irrational about it; no longer a coincidence, but an active choice.

A sharp fear has sunk down into him that if he goes to sleep, something bad is going to happen. To him. To his brother. He doesn't know, but it'll be bad, and he can't risk it. Can't risk them. Five has been through so much, and so much more than he's even told, and Klaus can't be the reason something else happens to him, adding to the seemingly never-ending pile of things already resting on his brother's shoulders.

His sleeplessness hit a pique that morning and he'd dissolved into a pitiful heap, hallucinating a memory in the graveyard with dad. So, by the time mid-day hits, he's beyond exhausted, but he keeps chugging coffee to stay awake. He was sure it would lose its effectiveness eventually, but so far, so good. Or he's hit a second (or sixth) wind of some kind. Rewired himself just enough that he can push through.

Still, it's etched all across his face, the circles under his eyes as dark as though he'd been punched, and that distinct, distracted look about him. He can barely keep a coherent thought pattern by now, but who cares? Sleeping means a risk, and he can't take those. He can't, he can't, he can't.

He listens to music so loud it threatens to hurt his ears, but at least it'll keep him awake. All banging drums and sharp guitars, nothing soft that would lull him into comfort. That's where Five will find him now, sprawled across his own bed in their room with headphones and an old Walkman with the music so loud surely his brother can hear it.

Five noticed a pattern on the third night. Namely, because one night is no pattern to speak of, two is a coincidence, and three - three is where that threshold starts. And Five? Five may be good at a lot of things, but the specialty still lies in numbers.

It took two more fucking nights for the shit to really start getting worse. He would keep note in the corner of his eye; he would head Klaus up in the middle of the apparent night, much as he would lie awake when the cold would seep too close from the windows and sit heavy against his bruised lungs.

Five could do little else but watch, with a creeping and suffocating guilt wrapped around his throat.

A person can only keep going without sleep for so long, and that is something Five had actively known as much as chosen to ignore when it suited him. But it isn't him, this time. It's Klaus. It's his brother, who found his fucking corpse. He made that mistake. He was the cause of something he never, ever wanted any of his siblings to stand witness to, the epicenter of ruin, because who better than him to know just what seeing your family dead truly does to you.

Ghosts, he would imagine, are one thing. Loss is slightly different. Hollow and empty and it isn't so much that Klaus found him, specifically, as much as what that discovery stood for in Five's mind: failure.

It was a culmination, across these nights. Across the sweeping show of symptoms, of the sleep deprivation really digging deep, carving hollow shadows across Klaus' already sharp face.

Five can hear the music from their doorway, and he makes a face as he crosses the threshold, a harsh scowl at the rattling beats. His body aches, but he has resolved to accept it - the faster he does so, the more alright he will be with living with it for the next month - and with a blink of his powers, he appears at Klaus's bedside, thumb finding the volume ring on the player, and rolling it down, listening to the tune fade.

"Klaus," for all of Five's decisiveness of action, his voice is wretchedly quiet. Almost gentle, if one would think Five capable of such a thing.

Klaus’ eyes fly open as the volume suddenly decreases and he blinks in surprise to find his brother standing there, scowling at him for his music tastes, probably.

“Oh, hey, Five...” his voice trills in that song-songy way he tends to use in greeting people, a wavering sort of half-smile on his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes or even really light up any part of his face; mostly, it just highlights all the exhaustion in it instead.

He drops the headphones to hang around his neck and pushes himself up to sit leaned back against the pillows. Knees drawn halfway before he rests his legs sideways. “Is everything okay?” Five doesn’t usually talk so softly, and that kind of has his nerves on edge. Though, they’re a little frayed these days anyway, so it’s not hard to get him to that anxiety-riddled precipice.

It isn't for his music tastes.

Not really, and not today. He couldn't care less about what you're listening to, to try and blow your eardrums out, Klaus.

"Yes," he answers quickly, even if a line forms between his brows. His brother looks like hasn't slept in days - which is accurate, undereyes near purple and smile too much like a haunted shadow of who his brother is.

He hates this place a hell of a lot more.

"Everything's fine," it isn't a lie in the strictest of senses, but it isn't fine is it?

"When's the last time you slept, Klaus?" Stern, jaw set in an unhappy frown.

"Good." He breathes out softly. The sharp angles of rigidity in his body visibly relax at that affirmation. Everything's fine. Or at least whatever constitutes as 'fine' in this place, and isn't that all they could ask for at this point? He sinks a little heavier into the pillows propped behind him.

The question earns his brother a soft, amused scoff and he shakes his head. "I- the other day, Five. I'm... I'm fine. I- I'm used to," he waves one hand vaguely, trying to collect his thoughts. "not sleeping. M'good. Promise." The smile he goes for looks plastic as any Mom had ever worn.

Five isn't good at this. He isn't good at heart to hearts. That has always been Klaus, who cared a little more than the rest, who was sensitive in ways that made it easier to unravel into a mess.

And how much of that had Five brought onto him, here? There is still the idea of fault and guilt and the reluctance to relinquish it. That somehow, Five's actions or oversight had resulted in his brother's appearance here, in having to bare witness to corpses and loneliness and fear and he isn't naive enough to think himself capable of ridding all that which made up the majority of their childhoods, of their lives. But his self-loathing runs deep enough to know where to lay his blame.

"That's bullshit," that saccharine smile might work on others, Klaus. He knows the other day was five days ago. His hard stare would say as much.

Slowly, he perches himself on the corner of Klaus' bed. "You haven't slept in days." His approaches have always been heavy handed, but to his credit, his voice doesn't rise into a higher pitch. "And expert that you are, I don't need to remind you the effects of sleep deprivation, do I?"

There will be a long pause, before he can bring himself to ask: "What happened, Klaus?"

He frowns, though it's more of a pout at being called out than anything else. "Is not," he mumbles argumentatively, arms folding across his chest.

As Five sinks down onto the corner of the bed, Klaus' brow pinches into a soft frown. His brother's voice is so... Klaus isn't sure what it is, but it's different, somehow. For some reason. "I swear, I- I'm f... I'm fine, Five..." But it's just not convincing with the raccoon eyes that are not a makeup choice, but a side effect, and the exhaustion keeping his voice a little too soft.

He falls quiet for a long time after Five's question. He doesn't really want to admit what's been running through his mind these last few days. Five will think it's stupid. It probably is, but he can't help it. It's this giant, all-consuming thing that started as a gentle gnaw in the pit of his stomach and turned into something of a blackhole that threatened to swallow him the longer it when on. He fidgets, staring down at the mattress and twisting the sheet between his fingers, so reluctant to put a voice to the feeling that's been eating him up.

"It's... just..." The words catch in his throat and burn in his chest from the way he holds them, and his breath, there for just a little too long before he sighs out, "this feeling..." he pulls his legs tight toward his chest, resting his cheek against his knees. "Like. I-I don't know. I don't- it's just...bad." Which doesn't make any sense, and sounds a lot like a toddler trying to explain a bad dream.

"If I sleep, then... then something's gonna happen. To me. To you. I-I don't know, but I can feel it, Five." He's too tired to try to do anything like regulate his emotions (and he's always been bad at that anyway, even without far too many hours of sleep deprivation under his feet), so when he says that last bit, his eyes flood, his vision suddenly too blurry to make out the features of his brother's face until he blinks and the tears slide across the bridge of his nose, down his cheek and onto his knees. "I'm scared, Five... I don't want anything else to happen to you..."

Edited 2020-12-27 17:36 (UTC)

This did feel too much like when they were kids. At thirteen, Five already remembers the foundations that ensured who Klaus would become - the blunts at the dinner table, the alcohol bottles snuck into drawers to numb the worst of it away. Nightmares were old friends, and perhaps the oldest with Klaus, ghosts and shadows that solidified his brother's proficiencies at false bravado and sun-bright bullshit.

None of that was to be found here, with Klaus' long limbs bent in angles that make him seem so small. It's especially difficult for Five not to feel his age - the oldest by so many years. That he ought to shoulder the brunt of all of this, and ensure the safety of the family he loves very much.

"Nothing is going to happen to you," he says stiffly. This wasn't on Klaus. This all started because of his mistake, of the fog, of this place. That's his bone to pick. And he knows now, with a startling sort of clarity, that if he doesn't try and take matters into his own hands now, later may be too late.

Guess they're both afraid of the same thing.

"Not to me, either." He says it with confidence. The sort of confidence you wear when you're ready to pull the trigger. Ends and means.

For all of the distance and claimed callousness, Five hates to see what state his brother is in. This isn't fair, he thinks. He shouldn't be here.

"Look, you need to get some sleep," he says, shifting further to lean on his hand in a way that doesn't cause another ache to crawl down his ribs. Of course, he could dismiss this. He could dismiss this as the irrational fear that it is, but it's the guilt that stops him. This is on him. "I'll sit right here, all night if I have to, and make sure nothing happens." A beat. "And I'll wake you up if it's not the case."

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bestfuneralever - 2021-01-03 02:26 (UTC) - Expand

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The coffee in Mathias is hardly anything to write home about, but at least it's not the Grill's brew. Elena's wrapped up in her oversized flannel shirt and a scarf over her hair, ready to go face the worsening weather in her pursuit of discovering who "Jill" is and meeting her daily quota for reckless stupidity or bravery.

When she steps into the kitchen, it only takes the briefest of moments to hear whimpering. Brow furrowing, she spots him on the floor. It's a strange sightseeing someone so tall and lively try and make himself look so small and dull. It's not something she likes to see. While she's only known Klaus for such a short amount of time, she's found his bright energy and approachable demeanour addictive and soothing.

Stepping closer to him, Elena lowers herself onto her knees beside him, planting her hands on her thighs. Leaving him like this isn't an option. She tries to catch his gaze, something she doesn't believe herself to be successful.

"Klaus?" she says it gently. "Hey, Klaus. Your dad's not here."

He recognizes that someone else has walked on the scene, but what she's saying doesn't really make any sense. He is. He's right behind her. Doesn't she see him? How did she miss him, she had to walk right past him...

"He won't let me leave," he mumbles softly, dragging his fingers through his hair. "I wanna go home..."

She can't help it. She looks over her shoulder as if expecting someone to be standing there. But no one's there. When she looks back at him, she quickly surveys him, wondering if he's hurt. He doesn't seem to be, at least, not on the surface.

She reaches out to brush her fingers against the back of his hand, letting them linger on his wrist.

"Klaus, look at me."

He uncurls from the ball he's trying to pull himself into, to make himself small enough he might just disappear. That's what he tried to do all the time, back then, during the days memories like this one were so frequent. He was eight. And Klaus was never really sure if the story Dad gave him about Oswald was true-- or if he'd just... He shakes his head at the thought; he doesn't want to finish the rest of it.

Finally, his eyes land first on her fingers at his wrist, which he doesn't pull away from at all, and eventually up to her face. "I wanna go home..." he whispers again, soft sobs still escaping him every so often. The memory is so strong, it's hard to let go of it, especially in the mind-altered state his sleep deprivation has put him in.

His fingers wrap around hers. The contact helps. It's always helped. The solidness. The realness. The warmth of a living person. It's why he became so touch-sensitive, so tactile all the time; it helped ground him, remind him the dead aren't the only people that exist.

I. Laying Low Open to boarding house residents/guests, multiple responses fine!

{Huddle close and stay warm

A large part of this day is spent asleep. Finally being berated into sleeping by his brother meant Klaus' exhaustion took over and, nightmares or not, his body just shut down with fatigue. He doesn't properly wake up until sometime in the early afternoon.

Today quickly becomes all about trying to stay warm. No way in hell is he going outside in a storm like this. He's bundled up in a pair of sweats he found in the closet in his room, and at least half the time, he also has a blanket wrapped around his shoulders to boot.

"Fucking hate winter," he mutters sourly on his way into the kitchen. Last night was the first time he'd slept in nearly a week, and it was fitful, thanks to the nightmares he didn't seem to be able to escape. He's still looking vaguely more rested than he has in a week, despite it, though the circles under his eyes are still quite dark, and the exhaustion is still drawn into the lines in his face.

Edited 2020-12-21 03:33 (UTC)

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021-023 » the ghosts of fallen leaves

Klaus Hargreeves | The Umbrella Academy

Day 021

{Wandering wherever my feet choose to take me » movie theater, evening » @ chicartista

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end? ♥

Day 022

{Demands of a brother » evening, boarding house room #5 » @ fika

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Day 023