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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No, Malcolm, don't leave him alone with Negan.

"You didn't seem to mind last we spoke," Doc points out, pursing his lips and trying to quash his irritation. It's not necessarily directed at Negan, it's also their present situation, stuck together, snowed in, Raylan not being back yet, all the rest of it.

"Do have a seat, by the fireplace. Make yourself at home." There are towels near the doorway should he need to dry himself off. Soon Doc will make himself scarce, finding something to do. Preparing the extra sleeping space maybe. But he did promise a drink so he will stay for the duration of at least one.

Doc follows where Negan has wandered to, voice dropping a little lower so Malcolm can't really hear every word they're saying from the kitchen.

"How are you, anyway? Anything... residual? Strange?"

"Hey, thanks, man," he calls after Malcolm when he leaves and then-- there he is with Doc.

Hey, some people would kill for a little solo Negan time. Although some of that bravado slips when they're alone and he's heading towards the fireplace to try to warm his frozen limbs. His expression drops a bit, eyes moving to meet Doc's.

"Fine, I think." Not sick, at least. "Told you I don't die that easy..."

He shifts a little, enough to turn his attention properly to Doc, looking him over. "How about you? You really doing okay?"

For what it's worth, Negan's sincere when he asks it.

Malcolm notes them moving away, talking between themselves. He takes his time pouring a generous two fingers into each of two tumblers before returning with them, holding them out to Doc and their guest.

“Have you seen anything else interesting around town?” he asks Negan curiously.

Doc gives Negan a shrug. "I look okay, don't I?" Doggedly tired aside. He's still got his head and other limbs attached, fingers and toes intact. Hasn't gotten a ravenous kind of hunger or lost all his mental faculties.

"Been having some strange dreams about it though." No, not dreams about you Negan. Don't get too excited. "Can't seem to remember all the details now..." Doc's worried about that, if the way he runs his hand through his hair, clenches his teeth and sighs is anything to go by.

"At least they're okay, so I guess we aren't infectious." Doc glances over his shoulder towards Malcolm, putting on as warm of a smile as he can manage when they make eye contact. Two fingers isn't generous, Malcolm, but they'll take their time with it. Whatever might still be lingering in their system will probably get murdered by the moonshine.

Doc straightens up and takes the proffered drink with a quiet thanks, dropping the subject of the museum as quickly as they had picked it up.

"Yeah..." Same about the dreams. He's used to fucked up things when he sleeps, but-- this is different. "But we lucked out... maybe we should try to focus on that."

Lucked out about as much as anybody can. They're not dead or sick, even if it's hard to remember details of that freakshow of a building.

He straightens up when Malcolm returns, eyeing the glass. Well, at least that might help a little. Might warm him up a bit. "Been all over town," he answers Malcolm.

"Or as much as anyone can be." The museum is the place that fucked him up the most, but-- dropping it sounds like a better way to go about it seeing as Doc seems to be trying to move on from it.

"I guess it depends on what you define as interesting."

"Interesting: useful... unusual.... funny?" Malcolm suggests with a hint of a smile, glancing up at Negan before looking over at Doc. Some of the unease seems to have moved out of him.

They had both shared things with each other they would have never shared if they were certain they were going to survive their expedition into the museum. Doc is doing his best not to make it awkward. He can't take back things already put out there. So, yeah, he will focus on the positives. They made it out alive. They're fine, for the most part. If they are to talk about the museum, they don't have go to into the unpleasant minutiae.

"You can just say you want to know what happened that night I returned late, Malcolm," Doc says with a long, suffering sigh, taking a drink out of his moonshine. No doubt Negan's going to tell a very different version of the truth of what had happened.

The back door to the kitchen opened then, a gust of snowy wind following in behind one half frozen white hat and a by now familiar to most sound of his boots on the floor as he shut the door behind him.

"Shit christ, any colder and my ears are gonna fall off," he said as he walked through, coming to a short stop at the company they had. "Negan. Not who I expected to be here."

Not that he expected anyone other than Doc and Malcolm to be here, but that was neither here nor there.

"Oh, yeah," Negan starts. "Sorry I kept him out so late... we got a little wrapped up in each other, I guess."

Whatever he's about to say about the museum or anything else is cut short when he hears a door open. His eyes trail to it to see someone else joining the party. He nods his head. "Just stopped by. Had something to return... then these guys right here insisted I stay."

So he can blame them for Negan moving in for the night and drinking their moonshine.

“I would have taken any interesting story,” Malcolm said. “But if that one’s up for grabs....”

He looked over as Raylan came in, already heading to the kitchen as Negan responded.

“Are you done going out in it yet?” he asked, brushing snow off the brim of Raylan’s hat as he passed. “Coffee?” he confirmed, putting the kettle on.

Doc shoots Negan A Look and is about to protest when the sound of the back door opening has him turning his head around. Oh, Raylan, he could kiss you right now. Right place, right time. They can drop the topic of the museum.

"Well you've just been out there. Were you going to ask our guest to leave in this weather?" Doc asks Raylan. It's not putting someone on the spot when he knows what Raylan's answer is going to be and three against one - the three being the people who have lived in this house making a unanimous decision no less - is better than two against one.

"Good," he said with a nod towards Negan. "Because it's colder than a witches tit in a brass bra out there and lookin' to get nastier. I was hard pressed to see fifteen feet in front of my on the way in." If he could make his way through forests at night, he could manage this, but the snow made it significantly harder.

"Possibly," he replied to Malcolm, eyes looking up at the underside of his brim like he could see what was going on before nodding with a faint pull of his smile and a soft "Please," to Malcolm's ask. Looking back at Doc and Negan, he can't help the curl of amusement over his features. It was possible that house 1306 were the nicest bullies on the block. "We can't let him to turn into a meat popsicle that we have to deal with later."

Smirking, Raylan took a seat and took off his hat, propping it on his knee. "They're right," he continued with a little nod, eyes on Negan. "It's hard to travel and you might as well stay where you're already comfortable. Where'd you hole up anyway?" He'd put money that the house here would be more comfortable, on basis of occupants and decent personalities alone.

Edited 2021-01-05 14:37 (UTC)

There's a quiet laugh into his glass of moonshine. What can he say? He likes Raylan. Guy's got a personality. Maybe he's also a little privately relieved that he's not having to venture back out into the cold again... that's just some bullshit after all.

"Well, since you guys seem to want a little more Negan time anyway..." He shrugs his shoulders a little at the question.

"Well, I had a little place with a roof, didn't need much more than that right now, I figured. Although you guys have moonshine. I am lacking that."

"It's available for takeout," Malcolm assured him about the moonshine while he scooped coffee into the french press. "But I still wouldn't advise 'out' as a destination right now."

If Negan did insist more than once on leaving, they might not have stopped him, but Doc would have insisted on walking him back to wherever he thinks is so important to be returning to. He owes him at least that much, after he had come all this way.

"Your place will still be there tomorrow. Most likely," he adds as an afterthought. Can't put it past this town to leave the buildings and the people staying within them well enough alone.

"Meanwhile we can get you settled in at least for a meal. And to finish that bottle with us." With any luck this will all blow over in a few hours, but he highly doubts it. Doc would find a time and space to warn Negan about the potential early morning start a little later, after they've prepped a space for him to sleep and a change of clothes. For now there is no reason to bring it up.

"This snow is gonna call for more than a roof, I promise you." That cold was no joke and if the snow kept going at this rate, they might have to shovel their way off the porch. This place being the bitch it was, Raylan would not be surprised if, in the morning, they found themselves buried.

"Nah, better you hunker down with some faces you know. Shit gets pulled in the night in this town." It was better to have other sets of eyes and ears to go with the live fire and bullshit that got slipped under their doors at night. At any rate, Raylan wasn't keen on the idea of anyone walking anywhere late at night. Even Dusk had earned a side eye. When was going to be the last one they saw before the darkness fell again?

"Sides, we might be able to scrounge up a deck'a cards to go with that bottle - y'all play poker? Malcolm?" Doc and Negan looked like men who had been playing poker since they were four and a half. Malcolm was a little too clean cut to fall to it naturally, in his head.

"Hey, I'm not saying no," he reassures everyone. They want him, they can have him. Everybody deserves a little old Negan time.

"I'd rather be snowed in with people than stuck by myself in this place." As long as it doesn't turn into a cannibal adventure at some point, you know? Anybody starts eyeing him up like a steak, they might need a word.

"Hey, sounds like a good way to pass the night."

Malcolm grinned. "I'm familiar with the rules," he allowed. "I've played a hand or two."

"Oh don't worry. I'll go easy on you." Not on Raylan obviously, and maybe only just a little bit on Negan. Whether he has something to prove or just respects Negan, he won't toy with him too much. Raylan he would just mess with and enjoy every moment of it.

"Make yourselves at home." They'll be sprawled around the dining table accusing each other of being filthy liars soon enough.

Raylan grinned as he got to his feet. "Poker it is. Full table."

Oh yes, he could handle that as a way to pass an evening.

[OOC: Since I don't suppose anyone wants to RP a poker game - Should we call it there? ]

[OOC: Yeah, I think this is probably a good point to call it if everyone else is cool with it!]

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021-023 » the ghosts of fallen leaves

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yes hello i was told to tag in >.>;

yes, good, join the party!

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