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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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Poor Raylan, more English to pester him.

Helen storms through the snow up to the makeshift bridge. Are people in this town suicidal? She looks down at the ravine, then at the man with the white cowboy hat on. She's got unbecoming bruise on her face, and dressed for chillier weather, but certainly not a snow storm.

Although the house she has located on Jackson Boulevard is rather accommodating for clothes.

Helen steps up to the ropes, gesturing to the bridge. "It's barely able to stand, let alone for you to cross. You can't be serious!"

Raylan looks up at the sudden outburst, wondering what snowdune expedition she'd popped up out of that he'd missed seeing her on the horizon. Oh well - She's here and clearly is on team 'No Fun or Stones'. He only got up from his knelt stance because 1) he'd finished what he was doing, by and large and 2) his knee was fucking cold

"Reaches across both sides, don't it? Reinforced to the point of being over-engineered and, if I had help, space for two people to hold the ropes to make sure it don't go anywhere. You our new local Army Engineer?" His question came with an incredulous lift of his eyebrows.

What was it with people pissin' on good ideas here? "You rather we start tryin' to back fill it in?"

"In wind like this? Do you really think it's the wisest decision?" Helen gives him a look a mother might. She gestures to it, with how it sways and moves. "I can tell when something is secure and when it's not. It's rather obvious."

Good ideas could wait until things were far more in their favor. Although, she can tell y the tone the man is set on this for... whatever reason that might be. Stubborn, apparently. Helen crosses her arms and takes another step up to the bridge.

"I'd rather start by trying to understand why you think crossing this makeshift bridge in a snowstorm is a brilliant idea." Her tone was more gentle, but still sharp and pointed. "Is getting to the other side of this ravine truly that important at this moment?"

There wouldn't have been wind like this if he'd been allowed to go over it when he'd wanted the first time, but that thought was translated into the set of his jaw as he narrowed his eyes at her before looking back to the bridge with a faint suck of his teeth.

"We wait to long, it might not be there anymore all together and the far side gone or worse, just.. different. Somethin is over there." He was sure of it. "There aren't any kind of supplies around, nothing else to over engineer this with - the rope and the weight is what's gonna keep it steady," he explained with a gesture towards it, just as a heaving gust that he was projecting his voice against picked it up and tossed it into the chasm.

"Sonovabitch!," he swore, darting over like he could stop it only to watch it hit and fracture with a terrible sound that reached them despite everything. Raylan's hands found his hips and he stared at the pit and the bridge into it like he could light it all on fire.

Well. That ended the argument either way and with him on the losing end once again. The last few days had NOT been for him, clearly.

It might not be there all together? True, they would hardly be able to see through the storm. Though, she doubts that is what the rather southern man means by his statements.

"Something might be over there. However, without the proper anchors on this bridge, you will not make it to the other side." She nods once again to how it sways in the wind. "These wind gusts are more than twenty miles per hour. Think about this rational--"

Her hands reached out to help grab him as he darted back over. Helen perked her eyebrows as if to say I told you so, without truly saying it. She dropped her hands rather quickly once she was certain he hadn't had anything come back and hit him.

"I suppose we'll have to return to your adventure once the storm passes." She offered an olive branch.

Edited 2020-12-26 11:41 (UTC)

To his credit, Raylan didn't jerk or tear his arm away from her touch; it barely registered, but she was trying and that was worth something, even if he couldn't quite appreciate it for what it was in his current state. It was perfectly reasonable, had people decided to help him instead of stopping him at every turn.

"Ya know, I don't know what pisses me off more," he started. "It falling in the first place or the good rope and wood that went down with it." He clucked at the gap and turned around, hunching back into his coat.

"Let me walk you back where ever you come from, get us out of the cold for a minute. You can tell me your name on the way."

Helen laughed gently at his statement. It may not of been humorous, but, there was a sense of relieving tension that came with it. They'd need to find some good wood and rope in the future then. Wood, it seemed, was in enough supply at the least.

"With pleasure," she stepped to the side for him to start to lead the way. Her arms crossed under her bust again as she followed along side. "Dr. Helen Magnus."

He really wasn't trying to be an asshole, Helen had just caught him on a day where he was less able to control the sharpness of his mouth. He hadn't decided if it was the cold, Mathis in general, or the amount of 'No' he's gotten from his comrades. Sitting still and doing nothing was not Raylan's greatest skill.

He'd take the break in the tension he'd created.

"US Marshal Raylan Givens. Though I don't know much that it's worth sayin' US Marshal's here. Too small to connect anywhere or even have a jail, not that there's anyone to put into it. Where were you headed before you ran across me?" They could head that way.

"A Marshal. I imagine tensions must be high given that status." Helen tilted her head as she thinks. No jail? That's rather strange. Hm. "There's a house I have been staying at the last day or so on Jackson Boulevard... although, I confess, I didn't have much of a destination in mind."

Thankfully, Helen was rather accustomed to dealing with the most irritable sorts. Sometimes they hardly spoke any language that humans could. Really, she was taking his reactions in stride.

"Would you mind if I asked you a few questions? Pertaining to the town, of course."

"Not here." Home was a different story, for different reasons. None that were meant to be shared out in the middle of a blizzard. "This vacation destination doesn't exactly come with a check in - we all kinda just found a sealed room that worked for us."

But he knew where Jackson Boulevard was and turned towards the road that would get them to it.

"I'll answer what I can, though it ain't much. Mathis Township ain't exactly forthcomin' in her secrets."

"I see." She nodded and decided to let that topic rest. A sore spot.

Then again, it seemed like hardly anyone was adjusting well enough to their new situation. Could they really? After all, they were prisoners of sorts. The question was.... who was holding the keys to the cage?

"That seems to be something that everyone can agree on." Helen frowned slightly. "I was in British Columbia before I arrived. Someone else arrived from New York City. We are from completely different season... I presume then that time must be a relative thing here?"

Sore, if only because there was tension, largely related to the chasm they were walking away from and the plan that now lived at the bottom of it.

"Some say it moves differently. Don't know much about it myself, just what I've been able to piece together by talkin' to people that know more. I came from Lexington Kentucky, 2015. Another girl comes from 2039. Others from 2017. I can't find any correlation between where we were or what we were doin' when we were snatched. I'm bettin' you ain't our only new face either, so that opens that all up to new figures. It's a fishin' town, that we know for sure. Not much else."

"Hm. 2014 for me, I'm afraid." A small smile and a shrug. "I woke up in your makeshift graveyard this morning. With a man named Neal. I imagine he's found somewhere nice to bunker down in until this storm has passed."

Although now she wondered if this storm was entirely natural. It sounded like very little in this town was. Why would the storm be that way?

"Fishing town. It rather does fit the New England stereotype then, doesn't it?"

Raylan looked over, eyes squinting against the wind at the mention of the graveyard. "That where people are gettin' dropped out here nowadays?" He looked forward with a shake of his head. "Macabre as hell."

Speaking of bunkering down, they hit the main street and Raylan moved them down the half block or so that would get them to Jackson. He'd have to keep an eye out for more new faces.

"I suppose it does. Never much cared for the upper north east myself. I tend to stay south if I can help it. Miami, Florida if I get any say about it. Welcome back to the states I guess. Or a place that's tryin' real damned hard to look like it. Which ones yours?" he asked with a lift of his chin. "Feel like my lips are about to freeze off."

She shrugged. "Not nearly as macabre as the trenches of Verdun."

Though if she meant a historical context or personal experience would be entirely for Raylan to decide himself. Divulging her age or her history isn't quite a high point on the agenda.

"Well, with an accent like yours, that's hardly surprising." Helen gave him a bit of a smile. "Third one down."

"The what?" he asked, brow pinched in confusion that stayed as she continued. He looked up the street at her direction before looking back at her.

No, he didn't get it.

"Too cold up there for my liking." Nothing to do with his accent, as far as he could tell. "One of several reasons I've never gone to Canada either. What were ya doin' up there, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Verdun is a place in France. World War I?" She tilted her head, waiting to see if it by chance rang a bell. Not that many Americans knew much of the First Great War. It was far more a European matter after all.

"My facility is in British Columbia. I have several other satellite operations, but, I've lived in that one for some time now."

Raylan shook his head a little. "I know it happened, but I don't recall any details beyond that." Her assumptions were right - America had too much to worry about between World War One and current day.

"You said you were a doctor. Doctor of what?" Having a facility could mean scientist or she could be a shrink. There were lots of things to be Doctors of. Raylan was currently hoping for Pharmacist, not that Helen looked like one in the slightest. She looked like she belonged in a lab coat for sure, just not handing out pills.

"Hm. Well, it was one of the most horrendous battles of the war. Over three hundred days of nearly no movement, and men and boys simply dying. It gets far more gruesome... but, safe to say, it certainly had a No Man's Land."

She gave him a smile. "Medical doctor, among several other degrees. I graduated from Oxford University. My facility back home is designed to treat ...rare and unique cases. State of the art as well. Why?"

"I've known a few guys been off to war. Not ashamed to say that I'm glad it's them and not me."

He took a deep breath that blew out in front of him as they came up onto her porch. Despite his mouth and temper, he was raised with manners and one did not just enter someone else's house.

"Meet a lotta people in my line-a work that say they're doctors ain't the traditional kind. Though by that list, neither are you. I've got more questions, but.." He gestured at her door, clearly not expecting to be invited inside.

"It takes a certain sort to make it to the battle lines and willingly placing their lives down."

Helen climbed the few stairs. She opened the door, motioning for him to step inside with her. He may as well warm himself up before returning home. Or, to wherever he had decided to stay.

"You may as well ask some questions. You need a hot cup of tea... or coffee, before you leave. I insist. There's no reason for you to go out back into the cold without something warm in you."

"Mm." Raylan didn't elaborate - he never been in any wars. Arlo had gone to Vietnam, but it had broken something that was already deeply wrong with the man and returned a monster. Raylan respected the troops, what they did, what war meant, but he had his own opinion on it all.

He bobbed his head with a tip of his hat in silent thanks as he stepped inside and shivered off some of the cold with a deep breath and a glance around. Only one exit here, though he'd bet the place had a back door. Why yes, he did count the number of windows in his view.

"Thank you. Can't say I couldn't use it, considerin' the weather," he accepted with another little bob of his head. Following Helen as she headed towards her kitchen, Raylan continued. "You said 2014 and now you're talkin' about the trenches of a World War One battle. You're not suggestin' you were there, are you? I understand that time is a.. fluid kinda concept here, I've heard a lotta weird things but I'm afraid that I'm a little behind on all the possibilities of every world out there."

She smiled and closed the door behind him. Then, a motion for him to walk to the kitchen with her. Off came the makeshift hood and the mismatched gloves. There were bruises on her hands, cuts on her fingers. A bit more than a simple altercation had happened.

"Now, where's a girl without her secrets?" Helen added playfully. She'd let them come to their own conclusions. It'd be some time yet before her lack of aging was apparent to those in the town. Hopefully, they would be home before any of that mattered. "How is time a fluid concept? The fact the buildings all decay at an alarming rate? While others don't? Or, is it more than the fact we all come from different places?"

Edited 2021-01-09 10:18 (UTC)

Girl has been, apparently, out at bar crawls that led to a fight, clearly. He wasn't going to push the question he'd asked, but her secrets told him more than she'd probably like. Probabilities were rising. Raylan didn't remove his hat and kept his hands in his pockets, eyes darting around before falling back onto Helen again.

"Those and the fact that anything tellin' time runs on its own. We show up in places in odd times.." He shook his head. "You'll figure it out, Doctor." Even without her state of the art lab, likely paid for by a government which naturally put it into a suspicious category until it could be better sorted.

"What about those," he asked with a nod towards her hands. "Those bruises top secret too?"

It was almost a test. She wanted to see who had a keen eye and who didn't. They'd prove to be the ones who could see a thing or two in the town.

"Odd times? I'd say waking up in a small graveyard is certainly an odd time." She set about getting the coffee ready. Yes, she knew how to brew it. She may despise it but she still knew how to make a pot. "I was in an altercation before I arrived. A man by the name of Adam Worth... I'm hoping he didn't join me when I arrived, but..."

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