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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( Quentin will learn. Some days it's all he'll have. A sizzle down his throat that will remind him this is real enough to hurt. As for toilet wine, it's under the sink wine fermenting in storage zip lock bags. Fermented. It's ready! )

Yeah, it is.

( Dean's getting worse at this, everything you read about could be true, at least where he comes from, from translating that to strangers. He's lost his tact. It's why having his brother here would help. "Don't ask me. Find my brother. He's better with this." Dean just slaps them across the face with stories of hunting and Djinn.

Hey, Raylan. )

I'm not that nice. ( He admits, interrupting, as Quentin refuses food and coffee. ) Look, kid. ( He untwists a bag of bread and throws four slices into the toaster, pushing the lever down. ) You're Dorothy over the rainbow without your slippers. Home isn't clicking your heels three times. I'm sorry. We end up here, we don't get to leave. We'll find a way out.

I'm Dean. And I make a great breakfast sandwich.

[There's just... so much going on in that one run-on sentence and Quentin finds a way to slide out a chair and pretzle himself in to it, setting the cup of coffee on the table as he rearranges his legs until he's sitting on one and the other is bent close to his chest.]

So... you're saying that I'm-- that we're stuck here. Because the phones are out and food just... uh, appears in your kitchen?

[Okay, so Quentin is used to weird. Weird is just another Tuesday, but even with all of that, this is just... really weird.] How sure are you that someone isn't just sneaking in the food while you're sleeping?

[His stomach growls at all the scents coming from the kitchen, and Quentin takes a sip of the too-hot coffee, ignoring it.]

And I'm Quentin. Coldwater.

That's not why. We don't know why. And yes, the food appears.

( He doesn't like it, either and makes it clear with how he says it. )

We're light sleepers. ( When he's not passed out. ) Castiel's an angel and Claire's a hunter. Nobody's sneaking in to stock. Can't say the same for the Grey Gull, but I haven't slept there overnight.

( Or, slept there.

Dean removes the strips of bacon onto a cutting board to rest but keeps the heat on. Using the same pan, he cracks, two eggs amid thhe grease and leftover fat. It's a great trick, using the same pan. )

I gotta ask, where you're from. Is it - normal? Anything real? What you might not -- think was? This is easier, moderately, if things aren't straight up Leave it to Beaver.

[Now you're talking his language, Dean, and Quentin pulls out a notebook from his messenger bag, placing it on the table in front of him. He opens it on a fresh page, if Dean can read upside down, he might notice notes about 'The Seven Keys Of Magic'.]

Okay. So, first of all-- can I just. Could you forget about me turning down that sandwich, because it really smells amazing? And second- angel? [that's new]. Which God? And what is she hunting? Because I saw a dead person when I woke up...

[Yeah, let's just leave that implication linger for a second, while Quentin scribbles in the notebook.]

Did you watch it appear? Or did you-- just. Did you see it?

( He doesn't forget, but he threw in four bread slices. Quentin never had the choice in the matter.

He eyes the eggs, testing how done the bottoms are, as the toaster dings to life and the slices pop back up.

He inhales, thinking through his questions, before getting to it. )

Never seen it. All I know if, one day I finish the eggs, they're back in the fridge the next morning. God is - God. Our God. Not a god, the God. Claire, me, my brother, Sam, we're all hunters. We hunt monsters. Anything that does harm. Vampires. Demons. Name it. We've killed it.

( He even thinks there's a vampire here, but he hasn't said anything yet.

Letting the eggs sit a little longer while he arranges the plates, he then carefully removes and sets down the bread slices, thinking back through his other questions.

He sets the bacon down first, on one slice each, then carefully moves the eggs, again, one each, yolk still intact. He then butters the top slices, setting those above the sandwich fillings. )

Cas is an angel. Castiel, angel of Thursday. In a body. The guy - he's dead, so. ( Don't cry consent. ) You saw a dead body?

( Knife in hand, he looks back to ask. )

That, today?

Okay. Okay, yeah. Angel. Of. Thursday.

[Quentin is busy writing in the journal, making notes and there are small arrows pointing from one thing to the next. Preliminary theories and tests he needs answered.

‘Invisibility spell?’
‘Does it swap everything, leaving all new stuff, or just replace the empty places?’
‘Wahlberg’s replenishing wards?’]

Uh huh, so a god. Did the god come here, too? How would I even test that... never mind. Okay, so yeah. Yes, when I woke up and-uhm, walked. In the snow. There was a body. By this house.

[It isn’t the knife in Dean’s hand that gets his attention, but it is where Quentin's gaze drops to, once his head snaps up.]

How about magicians? Ever killed those?

( Carefully, Dean slices down the middle of the two sandwiches so that yolk runs just right, bringing both plates over to the table. He sets Quentin's in front of him and then retrieves his spiked coffee.

Like Criss Angel? David Copperfield? )

There was this Immortal guy, who was offing other magicians. We had to kill him.

( Really specific ask, though, Q. )

Whether or not Chuck followed, according to Cas, he's powerless now. He wasn't, last I checked. Which means Cas is either from my future or another one. But, he remembers the last thing that we both do. And he's -- unique to all other Cas'es.

( Long story. Also, if you don't think he's not going to take a bite into half of his sandwich, you don't know Dean Winchester. Egg runs down his lip and chin as he sets the sandwich down and chews. He looks around them, and then gets back up to tear off sheets of paper towel. )

Your body, it was by this house? Or a house?

[Okay, wow. That's a lot of names, Dean. Not much info om the magicians-killings, though.]

It was a house? Looked old, wooden? About 30 minutes away? There were sticks sticking out of the ground, like markers, not far away.

[The sandwich still looks good, though. Even thinking about the dead person the snow, even with the heat of the coffee sinking in to his bones and making him kind of sleepy because really, the past couple of days have sucked.

He takes a bite, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.]

Almost sounds like you're talking about different timelines, with that guy being-- one of a kind? Or is there, like, several angels of Thursday? Because I didn't even know it had an angel. I know it had gods, but...

[Just, shut up, Coldwater.]

( He's been doing this a long time, Quentin. Names are just one thing that come with that territory. Also, two names. Chuck = God and Cas or Castiel. He doesn't blame you for getting lost.

Dean sets one torn sheet of paper towel in front of Quentin Coldwater, before tearing one more. )

There are -- were several worlds that Chuck, God created. But, as far as I know, he destroyed them all.

[It's not a giggle, but Quentin cracks a smile and tries to hide it behind the sandwich.]

You say Chuck, I say Jane, but-- yeah, I get it. I just didn't think it happened anywhere else, but. [A shrug]

It's one theory, that this is just another fucked up timeline and-- whoever just forgot to reset it all the way. That would explain so much.

Reset it back to when? Nineteen ninety fuck us?

( He finally wiped his mouth again as he sits back down opposite Q. )

... Jane. Really. Did Jane like her acoustic guitar?

I really fucking hope not. I was born in 92.

[Sorry, Dean,.but not even good coffee and food can distract Quentin for long and he starts writing again
]

No. Jane, she-- she liked magic. Clocks and shit. She was Queen of... this weird place, for a time and she just. Kept making these time-loops. But I don't think she played the guitar. Is that what your Chuck did? Kist-- played the guitar?

You're a child.

( He just says that into his hands, not trying to be disparaging, but, Jesus. 1992? Dean is 41 years old, Quentin. )

He wrote the universe. And yeah, he played guitar. He sang. He was an asshole who wanted things his way. We didn't do what he wanted, so he went and ended every other world before coming back for ours.

Jane didn't write the universe, she just kind of-- she wanted a different outcome. She wanted to-- anyway, she messed up a lot of timelines, so. I get it. About someone being-- more than one person? Or, being one person, but different because different timelines make different people.

[Yeah, not going to touch the whole 'baby'-thing, old man.]

And they-- came with you? Not god, obviously, but the angel and your brother? And the girl?

[The longing for Julia and the rest of them is a thing that lives in the pit of his stomach- white-hot and hard to swallow, always just there.]

Claire came first. Then me. And then Cas. Almost froze his ass off by that fault in the ground.

( He takes another big bite, most of what's left of the first half of the sandwich, and chews like a neanderthal. Mouthful, he keeps talking. )

Cas is the angel. My brother Sam's not here.

I-- yeah, okay. I'm sorry? About your brother.

[It is a very good sandwich, but Quentin takes only a few bites before going back to the coffee and the notebook on the table.

'Fault in the ground' gets its own couple of lines.

Once he's done (fast, since 'fault in the ground' take like a second to write up, Quentin looks around the room, twisting in his seat while tapping the pencil against the table.]

This is a... nice place.

Yeah, the Sanderson's kept it up. Two yuppies, three boys. Here, we either post up at the boarding house or choose a house to squat in. We still don't have answers to where these families are. If it's still 2020 and this town's abandoned, or it's nineteen ninety-something and they've gone Croatoan.

( He pauses. )

You heard of the Colony of Roanoke?

Who hasn't. [It comes out distracted, while Quentin just kind of sits there, gaping at Dean for a little while.] Did you just say 2020, because I'm-- it's 2018. Or, it was 2018 when I went to- it was 2018 before I woke up in the ground, freezing my ass off.

And it was 2020, kid. Time's not fixed. Not like how we think. Sounds like you have experience with that and Jane.

( He takes a break from inhaling his sandwich to sit back. )

So, what do you mean, Jane messed up a bunch of timelines?

She-uhm, it's a long story.

[This cup of coffee is very interesting. Brace yourself for a ramble, Dean.] Her brother had made some really big mistakes, okay? No wait, so. It all starts with Plover, the British writer? He wrote these-these fantasy books back in the 1930's, about Fillory. And the main characters, the Chatwin children, went there and had these great adventures. They were made kings and queens of this amazing fairy tale land. Except... it really happened? Plover was just... writing what the real Chatwins told him. It-they-- something was done to Martin. He was the hero of the story and he-- the god of Fillory? Ember. Locked him out of Fillory, for being boring, and that's why you can't read about him in the last book. Because he couldn't get in to Fillory anymore. And by the way, Plover is a dick.

Anyway, Jane. She wanted to stop her brother from killing a bunch of people, and. Somehow, she picked me. To stop him. From burning down Fillory and killing people. Every time I failed, she-- made me do it all over again. Reset time. Changing one thing from each timeline, until I just. Didn't fail.

[By stepping down and letting the better magician do the job, watching her succeed and die in front of his eyes.]

The magician-uhm, witch? That you killed? It was just the one, right?

I've killed other witches. The witch from Hansel & Gretel. That was me. And, a witch who tried to Bourne Identity me. I don't make a habit of it. I'm not a witch hunter. But, there are bad witches.

( He's just a hunter, hunter. )

Also, I followed... half of that. So, Jane Buffy'd you.

Okay, that's... yeah, no. That's good. Not sure if killing people is always the way to go, but. Yeah, there are bad witches out there.

[He takes another bite of the sandwich, just to avoid talking and to make his mouth shut up.]

That's one way to put it. She groundhog-day'd me. And it wasn't even me. I mean, it didn't have to be me, but she was just-- stuck. On me. For some reason. We ended up solving it and she left me pretty much alone after that. And your musician- god? Did he-uhm, leave you alone?

Only long enough to take out other me's he created and the worlds they were in. Real hand of God.

( He won't argue against or for killing, but the first witch was turning people back into children to eat them and the last one screwed someone financially and then whammied Dean. There are witches who deserve to die. They're bad witches. He can disagree all he wants. )

Did you feel special before she gave you the full Phil Connors?

He sounds like a dick.

[Oh fuck you, Dean.]

I-- yeah, so maybe I did? Maybe I thought that I could really make a difference in the world, and maybe I could even save Fillory. Which... I did. Kind of. Alice did the saving because she was the best of us, and she was willing to... do what had to be done. But yeah, I felt special for a hot minute, wouldn't you?

He was.

( Real grade-A dick meat.

Fuck you, back, because that hits hard and deep. Did he feel special. How honest is he going to get with this strange kid. Buffy-light with Season 2 hair. He takes another big bite. He chews, he thinks, and wipes his hands and then wipes his mouth with the same dirty paper towel. )

I didn't.

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