villagelogs | 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

Unlike Melanie, Eliot can see the storm coming. Honestly, he should have expected it, given the way the snow and the wind have been kicking up over the last couple of days. But on the day when it seems to really start getting bad, Eliot finds himself in his kitchen, looking out the window and at the house next door.

Melanie's house. Melanie, who is probably pretty capable, but is also blind and might not know if her home isn't well equipped to handle a storm.

He wrestles on a little with his morals before he slips on his coat and runs through the snow and over to her house, and knocks loudly on the door.

"Melanie? Hey, it's Eliot." He calls out, a little loudly above the wind.

The wind outside is insane, and it's making it ten times harder to keep herself properly warm, despite the heat being on. Melanie huffs an annoyed sound and tugs the blanket she'd draped around her shoulders.

There's a pause as she listens closer. Someone at the door. She could hardly hear him through the wind, but finds her way to the front all the same, "Eliot, get inside, you moron." She shakes her head, and wishes she could still roll her eyes. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" she asks, closing the door behind him once he's inside.

Eliot shivers once he's inside, the cold leaving his body against the vague warmth of the house. He shakes off his coat and stomps his shoes to get most of the snow off.

"I just wanted to see how you're doing. See if you needed anything to help get through the night."

Because his own place is quite toasty, thanks to the fire they've got going, and he wonders if there's a fireplace in Melanie's home that he can get going for her.

"Can't complain, I guess." She shrugs a bit. "Heater doesn't work worth a damn." Maybe she could complain, at least a bit. She moves with careful steps, still learning the house, but leads him into the living room. There's a couch, a small glass coffee table and an old tv on one wall. No fireplace, though.

"I think I've got enough in way of supplies. Assuming this doesn't decide to last for a week." She finds the arm of the couch and, from there, sits down, shooting an amused look back at Eliot. "Do you fancy yourself a savior, Eliot?" There's a note of teasing in her voice; purely a joke.

"Definitely not. That's Quentin's gig."

Eliot tries to sound amused by it, but mostly it just comes up flat. It brings up unappealing memories of people telling him he's the last person they'd expect to save them, and maybe those people are right. But that doesn't mean he can't try to be a decent person now and again.

"But I'd probably feel guilty knowing I was pretty cozy and you were right next door, feeling not so cozy."

He looks around at what there is, none of which is very helpful. Maybe he can try to enchant a mug to fill with hot tea, or better yet, a blanket to have some sort of prolonged warmth. His magic is spotty at best here, but it seems to come through for him after a bit of trial and error.

There's some sort of note in his voice that hits all wrong, though she can't quite say why, or what it is. A frown creases across her forehead at it, but she doesn't comment on it. If he wanted to talk about it, he would, and they may be neighbors, but they hardly know each other and it doesn't hurt her feelings that he might not want to elaborate on something personal with a near-stranger.

"You're a good bloke, Eliot." He kind of reminds her of Martin, except less awkward, more confidence. "M'not used to that."

"Thanks."

He means it, too. It's nice to have someone say something nice about you, even if it's as simple as you're a good bloke.

"In a place like this, it's better that we all look out for each other. Dividing and conquering seems like a pretty sure way to die or something. Do you mind if I go find a blanket really quick?"

"Sure." She smiles a little. He seems so genuinely humbled by it all, it's kind of endearing.

She nods a bit, "I agree. Hopefully others see it that way as well." Because she's seen what happens when the opposite takes place. "Sure, there should be one in the bedroom. Help yourself."

"Great. BRB."

Yes, he said it outloud like that, and, yes, she'll just have to deal with it.

He disappears while he finds the bedroom, and, when he returns, he's accompanied by the obvious rustle of the blanket as he bundles it in his arms.

"I guess I should ask - magic doesn't weird you out, right? Like, you're not going to persecute me for witchcraft or something?"

She can't help but laugh at that. What a weirdo, but like. You know. In a good way.

"It helps I can't see it," she smirks and shifts to slide from the arm of the couch to sit on it properly, sinking against the back a bit. "but, uh- I mean, I'm not going to go tryinna burn you at the stake or something, as long as you don't try to trap me in some bullshit magic-contract?" That seems like a fair enough trade, yeah?

"I promise I won't Rumplestiltskin you."

At least, Eliot thinks, he's pretty good with enchantments and charms, so even with iffy power, he should be able to do something. At the very least it might last a few hours and hopefully by then the storm will pass.

"I'm like Glinda. A good and fabulous witch with a penchant for sass."

"Well, if there's sass, then I'd say we're set to be on the right foot with one another, mate." She isn't sure if he's serious or not about that 'witch' thing, but she's not about to discount the idea of it at this point in her life. Anything is possible, and maybe it doesn't always have to be the worst sort of doom imaginable.

"Oh, I'm full of it."

Sass, that is.

And it's nice to have someone around that he can sort of gently joke with. Like, having Quentin here is great, and he's made some good friends, but there's a big Margo shaped hole in his life that's longing to be filled.

"Anyway, this will just take a moment," he says, starting to get to work on charming the blanket.

"Good to know." She needed someone around here that might stand a chance to keep up with her in that regard. "Do your witchy thing, mate." She sounds amused at least.

"So, what is there to do around here anyway, besides be pissed that you're here with no way back home?" She's not sure home is any better of a place than this for her, though.

021-023 » the ghosts of fallen leaves

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