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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"I'd warn ya against rootin' for that but I got a feelin' you are, Mathis or not," Raylan admitted with a slight bob of his head and a pointed gaze. Did he think John was borderline suicidal? He would not put it past him.

"Guess that means I'm askin' him." Raylan sat back in his chair, tonguing his teeth. "You want me to report back what he gives me? John Henry might tell me more than he tells you and despite how much our hats make us alike, we don't see eye to eye on everything. Wouldn't be surprised if safety by ignorance is somethin' he's used to."

They might be frighteningly similar but somehow they were also strikingly different.

"I accept the occupational hazards of my profession of choice." He held up a finger. "Ask him all you want. I'm sure he'll give you a colorful story. But, ah, don't go ruining your cozy housemates just on my account. Wouldn't want to disrupt it more than I already have."

He was serious about that. Oh, John ruined peoples lives. It didn't mean he aimed to. He did his best to keep out of them and their drama, that way the toxicity of his life wouldn't leak into others. Not that it ever really worked.

"Mm." No, there was a difference between taking risks and running at the pan on fire with an intent to get in and flop around. But that wasn't a conversation for now, or possibly ever. It would be too much like telling Raylan he raced into his job too eagerly. He knew exactly what the hell he was doing. Most of the time.

"He's too much like me, I'm sure it'll be like pullin' teeth. And it ain't on your account, it's on my own, thank you very much," he replied, eyebrows curling a little with the opinion. He wasn't bothered by the implication of John being able to upend the house, only confident in his and Doc's level headedness to stop it from upending at all. "He came in at a real early hour the other night and I've been waitin' for a good door to open that conversation."

Raylan tongued his teeth and shifted in his seat, chin lifting a little as he recentered his attention onto John.

"How's Zed doin', now that she's home, hmm?"

"Probably took his Father Christmas work of cans home to you too."

A cowboy hatless cowboy with a sack of canned goods. Mathias had it all.

Oh, there it was. There was the question about Zed. Thankfully, he had been expecting it. So, no shocked expression or even annoyed curl of his lip. Just a flat stare at the other man.

"She was a bit dazed when she got back. Had no idea how or why she disappeared." John stabbed the sausage with his fork off Raylan's plate. Then, he took a bite. "If you wanna check up on her? By all means, mate, be my guest. She's upstairs."

"Musta slipped it into the garage before comin' in," he replied with a shrug, glancing towards the door just long enough for John to steal his sausage. His head snapped back over, glancing down at his plate before narrowing his eyes at John.

Oh. Okay. Gonna be like that. He'll remember, next time foods around, to watch his plate.

Raylan reached over to try and snatch his sausage back off John's fork. "Hell no. Bein' friendly, the lady hardly knows me. I got no business up there."

A shrug. John certainly didn't know where John Henry went after he told him to get out of his house. Honestly, he didn't much care either. Eventually the man would get his way back to 1306.

John gave him a classic Constantine grin. The one that said he might be a bit devilish when the mood struck him right. Though, he did pause at the sausage take back before chuckling. There were plenty of jokes he could make about that.

"Isn't that how people start," his accent changed to that deep Southern one, "Gettin' to know their neighbors?"

After a bite, Raylan pitched the little nub of sausage at John's face.

"You know it's creepy as hell to hear that come out of your mouth right? And no gentleman walks up to a ladies room," he continued with a pull back of his head, a pinch of his whole ass face, like the idea was absurd as it was to him.

"Sides. If she wants to talk to me, she'll find me. No need for me to go botherin' people." Except John, that's the exception.

"Oi!"

Though, there was a laugh in there somewhere. They were like teenagers. A nice change of pace.

"Good thing I'm not a gentleman, eh?" John grinned, wondering how much more he could press those Kentucky buttons. In good fun, of course. John was just a prick and a punk. "Here I thought you liked the accent."

Note: keep using the accent to catch Raylan off guard.

"Zed's not the most social creature. She's used to keeping to herself."

Raylan's face broke in kind, the ghost of a real smile shifting across his face as he sat back, eyes kept on John and his nonsense.

"That's probably why you get into the door and no, no I don't. Throws me off, you ain't from any swamp. It's good but you got some work to do on the vowels, just the edges." If he was taking any criticism.

"Ain't most of us. I don't blame her though. Why should she bother with us, here? Hell, I wouldn't bother with us if I had a choice. Whatever makes her happy." That's all that mattered, really.

Work on some of the vowels? Hm. He might do that. Just to see if he could keep the Marshal on his toes.

"I'll make sure to use the New York accent next time." John smirked, because yes, he could do one of those too. If the situation calls for it.

The smirk faded just a bit. "It's not my story to tell, but, she's a bit of a sheltered girl."

"If you could leave our accents alone, that'd be preferable," he retorted as he pulled his plate closer to finish his egg before John thought about trying to steal that too.

Raylan glanced up at the ceiling. "People like that need to take their own time. No point in pushing them. But you seem to have a pretty good beat on her," he said, eyes falling back onto John. "You guys still sleepin' in separate rooms?"

Losing someone like she'd lost him or he'd lost her was rough stuff. Raylan couldn't imagine they didn't fall in together.

"Oh, bit touchy about the native accents, aren't we? Mate, most of your bloody country exists because of Good Merry Old England." He gave a slow sprawling grin. "I think that means we Englishmen get to prod you in spots sometimes."

The answer to his question was a shrug. Sure, they were sharing a bed right now, but John had no idea if that was going to last. They slept together. He wasn't sure if that was going to last either. Things usually didn't in his life. It was something he guessed they'd need to see.

"Nothin' really lasts forever, yeah?"

"Just about them comin' outta your mouth and we exist because we told y'all to fuck off for taxing us to death," Raylan retorted, face curled in full amusement behind his bites of eggs. "Makes me feel weird," he continued, taking on a comical almost lisp.

"It ain't forever that we should be worryin' about, its the now. Get too lost in the future or the past, you'll overlook what you got now. If I'd known what Winona was gonna pull, the last year of our marriage woulda been hell. No place for even a passin' happiness that way. But," he continued, standing up to gather his plate and head towards the sink where he'd wash it.

"I'm not the one to be givin' any of that type of advice. You're well traveled enough, you'll figure it out."

That grin spread on his face and an honest laugh left him at that. "A good sort of weird, yeah? Fuzzy feelings and all the rainbows?"

Now that statement sounded like it was loaded statement. One that had history and wisdom behind it. He raised an eyebrow, but, didn't question it. They both had enough relationships and skeletons of them in the floorboards.

"She said once she'd been waiting for me and that I found her. Consequences don't exist in my line of work." He frowns and taps his fingers on the counter. "I just don't know what that all means."

Raylan narrowed his eyes, head tilting to a side. "You wish," he retorted, half wishing he had something else to throw at John's grinning face. It was a good feeling, a strange feeling that he hadn't felt in a while.

"It means she sees somethin' that you can't. About yourself. Women are a mysterious creatures sometimes. Especially when they're workin' with the gift she's got." The comment came with a glance up towards the ceiling. "You got a reprieve from at least half the shit, bein' here. I ain't tell you how to do anything but.. Even if this turns out to be some messed up fever dream.. Wouldn't you rather be spendin' it with a lady who's been waiting for you? I'm not saying not knowin' what it means doesn't matter but.. Maybe it just means that she's able to love you. That such a bad thought? Bein' loved?"

It was a leap of faith, the question, a test of how far John would go in an honest conversation and Raylan was taking the chance.

"Hm. Maybe." John shrugged. He wasn't going to disagree with it. Zed had a way of wriggling under his defenses and getting in his head. With one touch she had figured out how he operated; the emotions that drove him. "Never really understood the concept of being loved."

Which was about as much as he wanted to say about that topic. No need to drag out the sob story of little Johnny, being beaten, blamed for the death of his mother in childbirth. Or the fact that the one source of light in the house had run off to escape the insanity their father had. How that led him into the arms of Anne-Marie and magic and drugs.

"Only reason I know what it is, is because of my Aunt Helen. And even she couldn't stop Arlo's bullshit. The point is, the chance to be loved a little doesn't come often. If you've got more of that misery to look forward too, take your refuge now. Sample the good stuff while you got it."

He glanced up at the ceiling and then back down at John with no smile but the one in his eyes.

"I'm gonna go so you can cook that lady breakfast and go back upstairs. And if she's already had some, take something up and say you forgot." Raylan winked at him and patted him on the shoulder before heading towards the door. "Don't call me til you have some fun, at least a whooole five minutes."

And John could take that however he wanted.

Edited 2021-01-25 23:49 (UTC)

Aunt Helen sounded like a decent sort. A bit like Cheryl in that regard. But, in the end, even Cheryl buggered off. Anne-Marie was next. The Newcastle Crew broke up. Now he had Chas and Zed -- only it was just Zed in Mathias. He had to wonder how long she'd stand his bullshit. What point would she think following him was no longer worth it?

"Had a bit more than five minutes of fun." John forced a grin. "Don't be a stranger, yeah? Zed wouldn't mind if you stopped by to say 'ello when I'm not around."

John would have liked her. And older woman who was fond of her vices, her shotgun and her liquor. Always accused Raylan of not having enough bad habits.

"Have her tell me that and I'll take her up on it," Raylan said, stopping just before he got outta view to tip his hat before slipping out into the front and out of the house proper.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

021-023 » the ghosts of fallen leaves

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HDU STEAL HIS SAUSAGE

WELL HE COOKED IT!

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