024-027 » neither reward nor punishment

[villagemod]

WHO: Everyone.
WHERE: Eastern/Central/Western Mathias + ???
WHEN: Days 024-027
WHAT: The consequences of their actions.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. PM this account to have a warning added!
NOTES: Plotting post over here! The next log will be posted January 23rd.

RECOMMENDED ♫ Deadly Avenger "Onryo" 怨霊

DAYS 024-025
CONSEQUENCES
“There are in nature neither rewards nor punishments —
there are consequences.”
— Robert G. Ingersoll
When the unwilling residents of Mathias Township wake on the morning of the 24th day, they will find themselves in yet another set of frustratingly unnerving circumstances. None of them are where they last remember being, and some of them have strange marks on the palms of their left hands. It's all incredibly unsettling, but truthfully they should be used to it by now. No one will remember traveling to their new location.

Residents can wake up anywhere within their new location and in any position. Curled up in a bed, sprawled on a couch, huddled beneath a coffee table, propped against a wall... Wherever they are, they will themselves to be in quite an unusual state. While they are wearing whatever clothing items they went to sleep in, plus their shoes and a coat. The newest arrivals to Mathias Township will perhaps stand out for being slightly more appropriately dressed than their new neighbors. They are all a bit damp, physically worn out, and half-frozen from their apparent walk through a blizzard.

Each of the four locations is inescapable — residents are trapped, with exterior doors and windows being shut tight and a blizzard raging outside. The locations are stocked with fresh food and water and a large pile of firewood for the fireplaces in each building. The circumstances residents will face, however, may vary wildly between locations as the forces at work in Mathias respond to the recent actions of certain individuals.


BOARDING HOUSE | GREY GULL
NEW HOUSE | MYSTERY MANSION

These residents will wake with a mark on their left hand palms, a spiraling black symbol similar to those some may have seen around town. All marks are identical and cannot be removed, but will have seemingly vanished from their skin on the morning of the 26th day.

Castiel, Daisy Johnson, Dean Winchester
Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, Helen Magnus
Phil Coulson, Quentin Coldwater, Sherlock Holmes

DAYS 026-027
IN THE AFTERMATH
After their ordeals of the past two days, the unfortunate residents of Mathias Township will be grateful to find that they were back where they are supposed to be, a chill still clinging to their clothes in whatever place they went to sleep the night of the 23rd day. New arrivals will wake in the living room of the boarding house. None of the residents will wake with anything in their possession from the locations in which they were previously trapped, including any notes or documentation they may have made during their time there.

---

CONDITIONS UPDATE

— SNOW continues to fall heavily on Days 024-025, resulting in white out conditions from the wind that blows in gusts of over 35 mph; the temperature also drops drastically, making conditions extremely dangerous for residents. The blizzard clears on Day 26 and residents are left with a cold, calm world covered in white.

— THE FOG remains blocking the paths in the forest, urging residents to stay huddled within the town proper, and it also now blocks the northern section of town, beginning just before where residents know the chasm in the earth to be. Venturing into the fog is... ill-advised.

— DISAPPEARANCES continue to plague the town. Kylo Ren and Thomas Richardson have vanished without a trace.

— NO NEW DEATHS have occurred in town, but there is a new "grave" in the small makeshift graveyard near the schoolhouse. Rey's corpse has been moved and covered with stones to wait for the ground to thaw enough for a proper burial.

— THE LANTERNS will be gone from the morning of Day 024. No trace of them remains.

---

OOC UPDATES

— A GIFT for everyone! As a thank you for being part of this spooky little game, every character in the game is being gifted 2 Activity Points. These may be banked over here — instead of linking to an AC post, you may put "New Year gift" in that field. Happy 2021, friends!

— NEW LAYOUTS have been installed for our communities! Huge thanks to our Eldritch Librarian Stars for putting in the time to get this place looking shiny. (You may have also noticed some new page layouts being installed — these are also our Librarian's handiwork!)

— 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.)

— 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.

navigation | faq | setting | mod contact

Comments

THE MYSTERY MANSION —

[villagemod]

TRAPPED HERE —
Claire Novak, Eliot Waugh, John Constantine, Klaus Hargreeves, Max Guevara, Number Five, Raylan Givens, Will Graham

LOCATION DESCRIPTION —
The residents who awake in this location will be greeted by a sense of opulence that has not yet been seen in this spooky little town. Whoever resided in this space must have been of great importance... or perhaps merely of great wealth. As nice as their new surroundings might be, however, residents will be frustrated to find that they only have access to a limited number of rooms on two levels of the building and that locked doors cannot be unlocked, regardless of whatever lockpicking methods they attempt to use. There is no way of telling just how large the assumed mansion might be, nor of where in Mathias it might be situated, for all windows show nothing more than a world of white thanks to the blizzard raging outside.

On the UPPER LEVEL just off the elegant staircase from the central hallway, there are identical sets of double doors on either end of the upper hall, tall and black with engravings of snakes surrounding the long handles. These doors are unlocked and lead to long corridors lined on either side with black-framed white doors, all seemingly identical and all unlocked.

The rooms behind these doors are also identical: large elegant beds with crisp white sheets and plump pillows, tall windows showing the white world beyond, and tasteful paintings of the grey sea and coastline. They are also clean, no trace of dust or signs of age like in so much of the city. In each room, there is a long chest of drawers against one wall with a mirror attached to the back, the wood dark and pristine. Another mirror is mounted to the opposite wall, an oval shape, and a smaller third mirror rests on a bedside table. The chest of drawers is mostly empty, though the bottommost drawer is filled with crisply folded white bed linens. The mirrors are fixed in place, save for the one on the bedside table.

At the end of each upper level hall are another set of identical black doors with snake engravings, locked. There are no personal items to be found on this level.

On the LOWER LEVEL, residents will also find a complete lack of dust and grime. Everything here is shiny and cleaned to perfection in order to show off the wealth oozing from every corner. Off the main hallway, they will find a brightly lit kitchen, a "small" dining room, and two sitting rooms — one is large with plenty of seating and more landscape paintings like in the bedrooms, and the other is more cozy with a small study off of it. The smaller sitting room also a very interesting wall display: twelve large skeleton keys surround four old maps, each hand-drawn on aged yellow paper and depicting "Mathias Township", though none of the layouts seem to match what residents already know of the town.

Those residents who have been irked by certain amenities lacking in Mathias will be very pleased to discover that an assortment of alcohol can be found stored in the kitchen (small collection of sealed bottles, clearly intended to be used soon) and in the sitting rooms (on bar carts). They will also find actual knives in the kitchen, all sharp and ready to be used.

DAYS 024-025 —
The more times a resident looks at the mirrors in the bedrooms, the more likely they are to catch the glimpse of something moving at the edge of each one. A flicker of light, perhaps, and nothing that can be discerned in great detail, but instinct will tell them it's something. As evening falls and the shadows in the rooms darken, the feeling of something there increases, until residents are certain there must be something standing there beside them, unseen and unheard...

Throughout their time trapped within the mansion, residents will hear intermittent scratching from the ceiling of the upper level and a rattling from beneath the floor of the lower. The sound will stop when they begin to pay too much attention to it.


PLAYERS SHOULD RESPOND TO THIS TOP-LEVEL FOR THEIR DAY 024-025 THREADS.

🔥 john constantine | open to all | will match format

[hellblaze]

( ay, ay, ay. head on over to the PLOTTING COMMENT or hit me up on whisperstars)

➝ day 24

[hellblaze]

i. woke up a little off today, i can tell that something's wrong

[ It's the light that jars him awake. A brighter sense of light streaming in from windows that shouldn't be there. He opens his eyes, groaning at the sudden blast of light that hits him. A hand comes up to cover his face.

Then, it's the balance that's off.

And, suddenly, he's falling.

John finally opens his eyes to realize that he is indeed on the floor. His legs are still up on the couch--couch? He pushes himself to sit up, noting the shoes on his feet, briefs he went to bed in, and his typical trench coat. It's in a flash that he's standing up, spinning side to side and taking in the unfamiliar living room.

He flips his hands up, back of his hand pointed up at the ceiling with his first two fingers out like the 'V' shape. ]

Bloody fucking wanker! You could of at least brought my shirt with me!

[ A deep breath and he mutters a 'fuck me' under his breath and moving over the furniture. Either in the living room or moving to the doors and giving them a good push and thrust is where you might find one prissy Englishman this morning. ]

ii. see, i'm a little bit off today, i cannot put my finger on it.

[ Having found that he can't get out of the house? John has moved his way through the mansion to do a bit of investigating. Which generally means he is just half-assed looking around. Finding out Mathias's secrets doesn't matter too much to him at the moment. The last few days have been rough enough, and he's about had it with all the tricks this town has up her sleeves.

Yes, her. Mathias is a lovely lady but he misses London and hell, even the Mill House.

He notes the different colored doors before turning the corner of one of the entryways. Ah, the office. Study. Whatever. He takes a brief note a round before seeing a globe. He sneers slightly, moving to spin it. Then it doesn't spin.

His head tilts.

John gives it a good kick then finds a hinge. He flips it open and reveals a familiar sight. John's eyes widen as he pulls out a bottle of amber liquid he honestly had started to wonder if he'd ever see again. ]

Shit.

[ Might not really be whiskey. Could be poison.

He decides he doesn't much care at that moment.

John pops the bottle open and takes a drink of it--Oh my God. It really is whiskey. He gives a cough, realizing that he practically choked on the taste. He presses the sleeve of his trench coat to his mouth as he gives another cough, and properly looks around the room now. ]

ii

[revvedup]

[ it took max a matter of moments to realize she wasn't where she'd fallen asleep and that wherever she was now was somewhere in mathias that no one has seen yet - if she's even still in mathias and hasn't died somehow without realizing it. (honestly, she wouldn't put it past this place.) she's at least a little more dressed than john is, albeit in long sleeves and sweats with nothing on her feet.

since waking and subsequently discovering she can't leave, max has been trying to figure out what she can about where she's wound up. when she comes upon the - office? study? - she's not expecting to find anyone else inside, much less someone dressed mostly in a trench coat drinking whiskey straight from the bottle.

(she should have been able to hear him, she laments, but her abilities not being at their full capacity is kind of old news at this point.) ]

Shit - sorry, I didn't think anyone else was here. [ she remembers who he is, of course, and knew he'd been among those who revived after dying, but hasn't seen him since. ]

OPTION C /excel saga joke here

[tinstar]

[Oh, the good globe whiskey. Raylan had found his own bottle in the kitchen to fuel his own explorations and it was pure chance that, a few hours later, he saw the tails of John's trench coat vanish into a bedroom with colorful curses that belonged to one specific Englishman. No, he could guess John's mood, waking up in such a place. Probably very similar to his own, but Raylan doubted John ever took anything well.

It felt like a safer bet to leave John alone for a few hours, let him get settled and buzzed, possibly relax a little - if that was even possible.

So Raylan came back to that same door several hours later and leaned on the door jam, knocking on the door face to 'Shave and a haircut'.]

You passed out drunk yet?

ii

[fika]

[ the mansion is a sort of spark of familiarity that five doesn't really care for. his childhood home was bigger, and in different taste but there was one particular fact that remained the same with places like these: big houses meant big secrets, tucked away where no one will see.

its why five doesn't stand still when he rouses, and after checking on klaus, he finds himself unable to keep still, to keep from starting his search for answers before this place decides to through something else their way.

with the raging storm outside, it only meant more opportunity here - in this well stocked house with painkillers and knives and he grabs both without a second thought. much easier to keep walking when you have something to dull the ache of broken bone, even if its no-name brand ibuprofen.

its the cough that catches his attention, and he appears at the threshold in a pop of spacetime, hands in his pockets, looking about as thrilled as he really ever does. ] That your planned pastime for the rest of the day?

24 ii

[waywardsister]

[ Ah - cussing with a british accent. Her favourite kind lately. Claire grimaces and follows the sound of rummaging until she finds John.

She's padding around the place barefoot right now, in pyjama pants and a tank top. Her hair is still sleep-mussed and she looks pissed off - but what is new about that look on Claire's face, to be honest? In her left, she's dragging a fire poker along. Her right arm is wrapped loosely around her middle, but it looks like there's scraps of white cloth wrapped around that hand, with red stains on them. ]

Sharing is caring, you know.

➝ day 25

[hellblaze]

i. i don't really wanna try today, i see nothing in my reflection.

[ The man who is usually pushing for answers and looking into the secrets of Mathias? Today, he could care less. Honestly, not a single care can be given. He's found himself one of those nice rooms with the fluffy beds and tossed himself on it. Shoes on the floor, trenchcoat on the bed, still in his boxers?

Yeah, he doesn't much care.

Nor does he really have any shame.

If someone really feel like bothering him to try and pull him out of his drinking and napping? Well, he might snip a bit. He could even be convinced to go looking around the house.

Just be sure to give him a reason, yeah?


Or maybe someone hears him slamming his foot on the floor of the room he's taken up. ]

Oi, stop that! No one gives a shit about your thumpin' and scratchin'. Piss off!

[this_ismydesign]

[ Most of the blood has been washed away, save for the angry looking scab just beneath his cheekbone. The bloodsoaked shirt has also been disposed and Will is bundled up in his wool overcoat, lapels flipped up and over in an attempt to keep his naked torso mostly covered.

His eyes are more aware today, though still filled with a resigned sense of exhaustion that might seem weird for someone only just arriving. He was in the doorway, watching John before glancing at the floor from which the rattle and thumps seem to have taken no notice of the telling off. ]

Had a similar disregard to my attempt at that. [ He remarked in soft, mild tones as his eyes came back to John's face. ] Feel any better for the try?

[bestfuneralever]

[Klaus has taken to a 'vacation state of mind', so-to-speak. Real liquor means it's easy to fall into the safe bubble of ignorance, and he's not one of the more hardcore answer-searching ones anyway. He's spent his days lazily wandering through the house, keeping an eye out for anything that his brother might want to arbitrarily make a note about, but otherwise just... floating. Hanging out with people whenever he comes across them. He's got a lifetime worth of experience as ignoring things unwanted. Sure, a lot of his ignoring meant he was blitzed out of his mind, but still. There's an art to not hearing the call of the dead, and the scratching and banging in this house? Well. He's blissfully ignoring it all, too. But that makes it particularly striking when he hears the specific sound of angry stamping on the floor from a room down the hall. Soon, it's followed by the very specific, very familiar accented tones of their resident information keeper. Klaus meanders his way down the hall and into the doorway of the bedroom, lazy smile resting on his lips, bottle in his hand tilted out almost in offering.] I find tequila helps me ignore it all quite well.

Will Graham | OTA | Will match format

[this_ismydesign]

[ooc: Here is Will's plotting comment, it is always open! You can also hit me up on plurk Laekhund or Discord Lae | Will Graham#7268 ]

Day 24

[this_ismydesign]

Toto? I don't think we're in Kansas anymore

[ Will was a lumpy pile of wool overcoat on the floor. The dark grey herringbone covered the gore beneath and with his head tucked into his arm it was hard to discern the dried blood in his dark hair.

If anyone was nearby when he started awake they were going to be looking upon a horror show. Will was oblivious to his state, his mind bouncing wildly inside his skull trying to determine what was happening.

His immediate thought was that somehow, yet again, Hannibal had managed to survive the plunge of a hundred feet. Hannibal had survived and he had dragged Will back to the land of the living with him. That they were back in the clifftop house. Except he was not restrained in any particular manner, which he would expect from Hannibal. There was also a rich silence; no waves crashing against rocks.

And Hannibal would never decorate with a fake, whiskey table in the shape of a globe.

Alright, that had to mean he was dead, or dying. Either this was Hell or a hallucination cooked up by the synapsis of his dying brain. Pushing himself over and slowly up until he was sitting with his back to the couch front Will didn't bother with his appearance. His whole body hurt which he thought was weird but certainly not the weirdest thing he'd ever encountered in a hallucination.

Mostly he sat with his wrists balanced on his knees and looked around the room. The look in his eyes was one of tired resignation and every so often he heaved a deep sigh. How long did it take to drown anyway? ]

We're off to see the wonderful wizard of Oz

[ His ass was going numb.

That was what eventually prodded Will to get his aching legs under him, stand and leave the study. He traveled through the available rooms of the mansion, pausing every now and then to give the space a quizzical look. Sometimes he would go so far as to tap at a wall, frowning when it proved to be solid.

He shuffled quietly from room to room eventually ending up in the kitchen. Here he spent some time standing at a window, watching the white-out conditions beyond the glass. When people came into the space, Will turned and looked at them, up and down, staring at their face but saying nothing. Almost as if these figures were as inexplicable at the table and chairs.

Will was still blood soaked, bruised and acting weird. Not exactly a comforting individual to stumble upon in this eerie environment he looked like something that might be causing the rattling down beneath their feet. ]

Day 25

[this_ismydesign]

I'm about done with these crazy ass situations

[ Somewhere between Day 24 and Day 25, whether through the efforts of the people trapped in the house with him, or Will's own brand of determining reality, he'd come to accept that this was real. His expression still suggested that the jury was still out on whether this was a good or a bad thing.

But at least he'd finally set himself to the task of getting a shower and cleaning himself up. The deep knife wound on his cheek was an ugly collagulated scab and there was a matching scab on his upper thigh. He moved carefully to keep from re-opening the wounds. Tossing his shirt, his pants were stiff with blood but the dark fabric hid the worst of the gore, especially when he wrapped himself up in the overcoat and bundled it closed.

Will still wasn't particularly proactive in seeking out the others he'd seen so far in the mansion. Left to his own devices he searched out the nearest source of whiskey, who needs food. Glass in hand, he began to prowl the mansion with more alert focus. He didn't poke at the walls, but rather sought out how far he could go before a locked door impeded his progress.

He might also be caught either staring at the ceiling, listening to the scratching over his head, or down at his feet when the floor seemed to rattle and bump. At least once, he tried stamping his foot down on the floor in response to the rattling, though nothing ever seemed to come of it. ]

Oh but for the want of tap shoes. [ He remarked in soft spoken, wry tones. ]

Eliot Waugh ➼ OTA

[endlessflask]

(( Plotting comment is here or hit me up at blackspire if you want to discuss things. ))

➼ day 024

[endlessflask]

➼ i think i've had enough of hard mornings

---

[ Eliot is vaguely aware of the comfort of the bed as he wakes up. It's not that the bed he has at Stoker Park is bad, but it's definitely not as comfortable as this, and for a moment he hums happily and stretches out. He's in the process of pulling the luxurious comforter up around him when his eyes snap open.

This is not the right place.

For a brief (hopeful) moment, he thinks he's back in Whitespire, and that Sebastian or Margo will be there waiting for him. The hope fades as quick as it arrived. Still not home. Still in Mathias, maybe, but it's hard to see anything beyond the blur of blinding white out the window. Well, he thinks, if he has to be stuck here, this room is much more his speed.

Getting out of bed, Eliot's feet hit the cold floor. He looks through the drawers and sees no clothes, but his shoes are, at least there, so he slips them on and ties his robe closed. Loungewear chic, he guesses, as he looks in the mirror to fix his hair before leaving the room. ]

Quentin?

[ His voice resonates a little in the hall. Eliot pauses for a moment and thinks he hears someone downstairs. So that's where he goes, but the doors strike a familiar chord with him that he can't place. Not yet, anyway. ]

Anyone here?

[ Eliot sees himself into the kitchen. A little bit of rummaging comes up with something that makes him nearly cry. ] Oh thank God - [ He opens one of the bottles and, after a cursory smell, takes a long drink from it. ]


➼ free time for memories, places i'll never be

---

[ Now that Eliot's found the alcohol, he's more relaxed than he might have been otherwise. Sure, he's still stuck in his pajama pants and a robe, but it could be worse. Right? As long as he's got a glass in his hand and the glass isn't empty, he's willing to play along with whatever Mathias is up to currently.

He's found himself in the smaller of the two sitting rooms now that he's had a look around the mansion proper (and poked into the rooms that are open). The wall display has his attention. All the keys, and the maps that doesn't make any sense, all things considered. Eliot takes a sip of his drink, brows furrowed. ]

Do you think these were like ... Original plans for the town that they scrapped?


➼ locked doors (closed to Five)

---

[ Eliot isn't sure why he keeps going back to the locked doors. Maybe it's because he's finally figured out why they look familiar. The hall might be different, but the doors are almost eerily alike the ones he walked through before he found the room full of blood in his dreams. Maybe it's just the morbid curiosity in him that wants to see if he can find that place again.

Between some food and drinks and pouring over the maps, Eliot's made his way around the locked doors. His tried and true lock picking spell does shit all (and, no, he's not really surprised), and oddly enough, aggressively jiggling the door handles aggressively doesn't do anything, either. So it's with great frustration that he retreats back to the small sitting room - and gets an idea.

Sorry not sorry to whoever put all the effort in making the lovely display, but Eliot starts to take the skeleton keys down from the wall. He figures worst case scenario, it opens absolutely nothing here and then he's not really worse off than he started, right? ]

➼ day 025

[endlessflask]

➼ three or four glasses, hot and heavy ashes

---

[ The first night takes away sense of contentment Eliot might have had. More than a few glasses in, plus some buddying around with the other people trapped here, Eliot finds that it all leaves him once he's back in the room he woke up in.

More than a few times, he's thought he's seen something lurking in the mirror. Of course, that's silly, there's never anyone else around him and the thing that it might be, well. Eliot's proven to himself that it's long gone.

Right?

Funny how that doesn't help with the dread that starts to slowly seep into him as he crawls into bed. He stares up at the dark ceiling, wondering where everyone else went, wondering why he doesn't feel like he's as alone in this room as he thought he was. Trying to ignore it, Eliot rolls on to his side. Then his other side. Then back on to his back because at least now he can see if that thing tries to sneak up on him.

Eliot decides fuck this the moment he starts hearing something around the ceiling. He's sure he heard something, even if it's gone when he listens. He's shaken up enough by now that he makes his way through the hall and back downstairs, back to the kitchen where it can be brightly lit and where he can keep drinking the house dry. ]


➼ one too idle, oh i'm in a spiral

---

[ Eliot is much less enthused by the time the second day is upon them. He can be found mostly in the lower floor of the mansion, furtively avoiding the mirrors and scratching of the upstairs rooms. He might be encountered doing any of the following -

More than once, he tries to leave. Having rescued his coat from the room upstairs, Eliot's got it on and he pulls aggressively at the handles of the front door. It shakes a little, hits it with the palms of his hands, maybe you even catch him yelling at someone just open the fucking door. Luckily this is exhausting enough that Eliot doesn't stay at it for too long.

He also lazes on one of the couches. Every now and then, his eyes drop closed and he starts to doze, but the rattling from below the floor always jolts him out of it. In between his short naps, he tries to read a book he's found, and he continues to avoid the upper level.

No matter where or when you find him, Eliot's probably more than a little drunk.

number five | the umbrella academy

[fika]

( plotting comment: x. or berezka ! )

day 24, closed to klaus

[fika]

▶ DAY 24: closed to klaus hargreeves

---

[ when five awakes, it's in on of the sitting rooms of a house he distinctly doesn't recognize. he starts, a jerky motion that he regrets as soon as his feet hit the expensive rug, pinpricks of pain knocking the breath clean out of him. he stumbles into a side table, jaw clenched and eyes snapping to the room.

for a moment, his brain attempts to assign familiarity to the space. custom millwork, painting lights, a wall of books in an unnecessarily large room only for sitting. he almost thinks he's back in the Academy, heart in his throat, except for the fact that catches up to him.

it isn't and everything is wrong and the last time he went to sleep he was with —] — Klaus...

— Klaus! [ it rises, a yell, giving way to panic he can't temper amidst the still-grogginess of interrupted sleep.

the first thing he does is reach for a candelabra. second is blinking, from room to room until, in a serendipitous miracle, he spots the lanky silhouette of his brother. he wastes no time jumping to him. ] - there you are. [ his voice still manages to sound more casual than concerned. ]

Raylan Givens | OTA

[tinstar]

[You can hit me up on the plotting post if you want here. I'll match format if you got a preference!]

Day 24 - OTA

[tinstar]

Waking up

[tick-tock, tick-tock. Some old grandfather clock somewhere in the house that managed to echo through the halls and rug padded room and drill into Raylan's head as its own unwelcome alarm clock. He was dreaming of Arlo's place, which bore a cuckoo clock on a wall that sounded eerily close - Raylan woke with a start, half expecting to see the drab colored living room he'd grown up in and uttering an audible-] What the hell? [- as he ran through a personal check. Still no gun, but he was whole and he'd fallen asleep in his jeans and an undershirt. It left him nearly fully dressed with the addition of his boots and thigh length black jacket.

No hat though. He'd have to do without.

Head on a swivel, Raylan pushed to his feet with a sigh and a hand through his wild salt and pepper hair and started towards the first door he saw. This parlor was nice and all, but he wanted to know where he was. Why he was. Where the rest of the people of his house were. ]

Hello? Anybody home?[He didn't know what to expect, but it was the kitchens he'd stumble upon first.]

-
Exploration

[The kitchen proved... useful to say the least, judging by the bottle held tightly in his right fist and the knife tucked into the back of his pants, blade shifting against his undershirt as he ambled his way around the hallways and odd rooms. Safety 101 with Raylan Givens. But it was easily reachable without any real danger to himself, so it worked as a holster. For now.

The lazy ambling finds Raylan his way into the map room, taken in with a low whistle of admiration. For a poor boy from Harlan, this place was really making itself top notch. He didn't even need to be drunk to narrow in with an almost obsessive laser focus on the map wall and come to a stop in front of it. He wasn't a stupid or slow man, mind sharp enough to memorise what was in front of him but while he did that, he tried his best to find any common spot, even one, that might give them the start of a reference point. He muttered to himself, loud enough for anyone to hear-] This the evolution of the town? .. Maybe that makes this place the lodge...

[The Lodge, that had been seen in an on so many pictures; it was a shame things were too shitty outside to go have a look at the exterior of the place, but the inside seemed expansive enough to fit the bill.]

Day 25 | OTA

[tinstar]

[Raylan couldn't sleep. He'd found a bed, found a door to hide behind for a few hours, but he couldn't escape the scratching or the worrying in the back of his head about all the guys at 1306. Were they as safe as he was? As comfortable? It didn't help that every time he did find a moment of silence, the very audible scratching from the ceiling got even more persistent. Like it was trying to get his attention.

Finally, Raylan gave up and rolled outta the bed he'd found. Grabbing his bottle but not his boots, the Marshal hit the Upper level for another sweep, and hoped that he could drink enough to put himself down for the rest of the day.

What secrets are you hidin' in here, I wonder, [Raylan mused out loud to himself as he padded in the same lazy amble he did when he had nowhere particular to be. What he was really looking for was an attic. If he couldn't find one, he was about to get himself comfortable somewhere and commit to another unhealthy bottle with exactly zero shame.

Mathis was starting to fester under his skin.]

Klaus Hargreeves | The Umbrella Academy

[bestfuneralever]

Plotting comment. Wildcards welcome. Prose by default.

Days 024-025 | OTA

[bestfuneralever]

I. Day 024

{A new, mysterious place

Klaus is slow to come to, realizing his back is killing him, and he scrubs a hand over his face and pushes himself up to a sitting position. That's when he realizes he's on a table. Ah, the familiarity of waking up in the most unpredictable of places. But... he wasn't buzzed out of his mind last night, so that's curious.

Long legs hidden inside a pair of navy blue sweats sling over the edge of the table as he pushes himself down and starts padding, barefoot, through the place. From the dining room into a plush sitting room that calls him back to his elementary days. He doesn't even think, or question if it's safe, as he plucks a bottle of amber liquid from the bar cart as he weaves through and stops to stare at the odd display of skeleton keys. "I guess everyone collects something." He mutters under his breath, taking a long swig of the-- what was it, anyway? Ah, bourbon, burns so good-- in his hand.

{Idle wandering

As he wanders through the mansion, Klaus realizes how much it really does echo of the Academy, in the lavish decorations and furniture, in the smaller eccentricities of that kind of money sitting behind everything in the place. Any number of things in this place are probably more expensive alone, than the whole of the town of Mathias. It was a life he lived right up 'til he was 18, and then dad kicked him out, cut him off, and it was so very the opposite for him after that.

He inspects several of the different rooms in the house (the bedrooms are mostly the same), and wanders the halls with that same bottle of bourbon still tucked in his hand. He could possibly be talked into sharing with the right company.

At some point, someone might hear an affected voice calling out, "This house is as empty and cold as my father's heart!" You could practically hear a hand being held over the heart to go along with the dramatic statement.

II. Day 025

{The mirror stares back at me

Klaus saw no reason not to live a little in the momentary lush of luxury. A shower in one of the most perfect ones he's set foot inside of to date was just what he needed after a long day of day-drinking, honestly. He's stood in front of the chest of drawers, dragging a brush through his hair and wincing a bit at the way the bristles catch on a batch of tangles. "Dammit," he mutters under his breath, yank a little harder than necessary to just pull through it.

While he's mostly distracted with that, he still manages to catch movement out of the corner of his eye, at the edge of the mirror. "Huh?" He frowns a little and lifts his head a little. No one's entered the room, so he shrugs, decides it was just some weird trick of his eyes and goes back to--

No. No, there definitely something there. He definitely saw it that time!

"Okay, very funny, Casper. Just show yourself already." He sounds tired, and bored of the whole thing.

{Distract me from disturbing sounds

Weird little flickers of movement in the mirror, he could deal with. Had done for so much of his life, it was almost second nature to him at this point. And these days, at least, he was more prepared to deal with it all. But these incessant noises coming from nowhere, and everyone, all at once? He couldn't handle, not one little bit. It's the not knowing that gets to him the most.

He can't sleep, and he's freaked out, so he's wandering, trying to find someone to buddy up with. He doesn't want to seek it out and see whatever may be making those noises, though, so if that's what anyone is out to do, he'll kindly decline with a, "I've seen this movie before and we do not want to go investigate. That's where plot devices go to die." and find someone else to kick it with.

Day 24: Closed to Max

[waywardsister]

[ There's a loud crash.

Well, perhaps that is stretching ahead too far. Starting a little ahead of that crash, Caire wakes up, and panic curls inside of her almost instantaneously. The room is... familiar.

She's off the bed almost instantly, body moving before her tired brain catches up, yanking the door open with enough force to stumble before she's in the hallway.

Identical, safe for the snow outside. ]

No no no no no...

[ Why is this happening again, why in the same location... and sure enough, the bedroom looks like what she remembers, and so does the corridor. It's enough to make her lose it just a little bit. She's just gotten over her own death that failed to stick, over her irrational fear of the dark, and now... now this.

For a moment, Claire just stands in the hallway, barefoot in pyjama pants and a tank top, staring down the corridor and remembering the endless repetition. Doors mocking her by opening and revealing nothing, nothing at all.

Eventually she shoves her fingers in her sleep mussed hair, tugs a little, just enough for a sharp pull against her scalp as she marches back into the room.

It looks like she remembers.

There's a loud crash that echoes down the hall as Claire puts her fits through the largest of the mirrors, teeth bared and glaring at her own fractured reflection. ]

Fuck you...

[revvedup]

[ max only just woke up and has been trying to figure out the following three things: a) where the hell she is, b) how the hell she got here, and c) how to get the hell out. so far she's been unsuccessful at finding out about any of the above and exploring the rooms, trying to figure out if there's anything she can find in this place that would tell her anything about it.

until she hears a crash and glass shattering from a room nearby, and then she runs until she finds the source of it, finding claire glaring at a mirror as if it's her own personal antichrist.

max doesn't think, just runs to the girl and takes her by the wrist, pulling her away from her reflection. ]