villagelogs | 024-027 » neither reward nor punishment

024-027 » neither reward nor punishment

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.

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Doc didn't go to sleep with his hat on obviously so he can't tip it in greeting. He does smile and incline his head instead. This is a new face and maybe he's been around a few days prior - Doc hasn't been venturing out much during the snowstorm yesterday - but if he's only just been dropped off he can't imagine it's any less jarring to be showing up here.

"We have not. John Henry. Let me make you one." It would give him something to do and they can talk over a hot drink.

"Are you newly arrived, friend?"

"Oh thank God."

The relief is almost palpable. Honestly, it's the best news he's heard all day. His life is turning upside down but at least there's coffee and with that, maybe he can just take these things... one at a time. Like he did back when he first stepped into the ER, trying to make sense of all the chaotic processes and routines exploding all around him.

Carter rubs at his face, slumping into one of the chairs at the kitchen counter.

"Yeah, I, I guess I am. Though I don't know how I did that exactly. I just woke up here? And nothing makes sense, I feel like I'm going crazy. Am I going crazy?"

Oh boy. He's going to need maybe two coffees. Doc breathes out a slow sigh and starts getting the kettle going, milling around on the other side of the kitchen counter. This is not a house he has explored before so it does take him some time and opening and closing a few cabinet doors and drawers to find what he needs and set them onto the countertop.

"Oh you most certainly are going crazy," he states, matter of factly, his drawl slowly seeping in the more he talks. "Anyone who tries to tell you otherwise is just being kind." If John Carter isn't feeling even just slightly unhinged yet, the things he will witness and experience in this bizarre little coastal town will get to him eventually.

"But you learn to live with it, same as you learn to live with anything else." He can consider it a... personal journey, of trust. And growth.

"I arrived in much the same manner as you did, some weeks ago. And while you may not be looking for advice at this particular juncture, I would suggest you stay away from unnatural weather, particularly the fog, but I would not be going out in this snowstorm either. If the phone rings you should answer it - with haste. And if you receive any cryptic instructions, it is best you follow them. This is not a good place to be alone in, Mister Carter. You should make some friends, too."

"Great," he drawls, his tone dry. "I have a free day coming up and I spend it losing my mind. That's, that's just fantastic."

He rests his chin on his hands, watching Doc rummaging through the kitchen's contents and trying to process all the information. There's some pursing of his lips and he nods along with the advice, even though his frown betrays his absolute bewilderment. Don't go out in a snowstorm? Yeah, okay, that sounds reasonable enough. He thinks he can do that. Like, he wasn't planning on it?

Carter almost asks if there are people around who do go out in a snowstorm but then more advice comes in that throws him.

"Answer the phone with haste and follow cryptic instructions, huh? Sounds like my day job."

It's gallows humor at best but he thinks you should be allowed that when you're going crazy.

"A 'free day'?" he inquires with a look and a raised eyebrow. Doc hasn't done an honest day's work in a while. Sure, there were times he did not show up when he had been running his own dental practice, but. He had been busy with other matters. This concept is a little foreign to him.

"What is it you do, if you don't mind me asking?" Doc isn't particularly nosey but there is little other conversation to be making right now, and he figures it is best that they ease into the topic of Mathias, sprinkle a little something else in here and there to lighten the mood instead of mentioning that going out into the fog and possibly not answering the phone had gotten five people murdered so it is kind of imperative that he takes the well-meant advice to heart.

Carter snorts, reading the reaction more as some kind of performative workaholic response of a free day - what mythical concept is that?

"I'm a doctor. Surgical intern."

He slumps even more, propping his arms up on the counter.

"At least I hope I am? Unless this is me washing straight out of the program. Gotta say, I never expected a mental breakdown to look like this."

Edited 2021-01-05 11:43 (UTC)

"Oh. You would be the second doctor I have had the pleasure of meeting in about just as many days," Doc observes, pleasantly surprised. He won't complain about that - the more the better, in his opinion, especially given how fast he has been going through his first aid kits.

"This isn't the strangest thing to have happened in this quiet little township, I'm afraid. Sometimes I think it best we focus on what we can do rather than what is outside of our control."

The water boils and Doc sets it aside for half a minute before pouring out two cups of coffee.

"Careful; it's hot," he warns quietly as he nudges one cup partway across the counter.

"I sure hope so."

Carter flashes him a winning smile, reaching for the cup to warm his hands on it.

"Thanks, I really needed this."

Smells a lot better than the old, cold leftovers he had in the lounge, too. When was that? Feels like a lifetime ago.

"I'm a little afraid to ask but all this is already beyond strange to me. I'm having a hard time believing it could even get any weirder. What other things have happened?"

Folding his arms flat on the counter, Doc crosses his legs at the ankles and leans, sighing quietly as steam wafts out of his coffee cup.

"I have been in this town, but I was not here, last night. Nor have I come into this house before during my explorations around town." He assumes he is still in Mathias. The familiar photographs around the mirror confirm it.

"The last time this happened I woke up in a cave. There was also a mirror there, oddly enough. This place seems awful fond of mirrors." He scratches at the shorter tufts of hair behind his ear. That had not been a particularly fun adventure for someone who isn't a fan of small, dark spaces.

"If this house is like all the others, you will find come this time tomorrow that anything you will have consumed out of the pantry and the refrigerator will have replenished itself, with nary a supply truck to be seen or heard. The local store and restaurant is much the same." Curiously, not the clinic. He can't figure that part out.

"You won't be able to tell what time it is. None of the clocks can agree. You can go for days without seeing the sun and then just as many days after it seeing only the sun." And that is all without mentioning the strange voices, the spectres holding the lanterns, the mysterious half-burnt state of the library, whatever fresh hell the museum is cooking up, and other anomalies that don't immediately spring to mind.

The cup pauses halfway up to Carter's mouth as he listens, the smile falling off his face when it goes slack with disbelief. Caves? Replenishing food? Time out of order? If this is a dream, it's the weirdest one he's ever had and he's not quite sure how his mind even came up with it. Maybe an allegory to the long hours he's been working and the way sitting down to eat has become a rare luxury?

His mouth opens and closes, making him look like the fish out of water that he is.

"Well, I stand corrected."

He finally takes a sip, obviously trying to process it all. There's a visible effort not to freak out and calm his mind, not unlike he would during a difficult procedure.

"Sounds like one of those horror stories. Where the house is cursed and everything is just spooky. Are we in danger? Has anyone ever been, uh, you know. Seen anything?" His eyes dart over to the mirror nervously. "Attacked?"

"Yes." Doc narrows his eyes a smidge, but otherwise doesn't go into details. He thinks them unnecessary, especially for someone who seems so rattled after only having just arrived.

"Hence the advice, to avoid the bad weather and answer the telephone. Follow instructions." Doc gestures over to said telephone. The line is disconnected every time he's tried it, but that doesn't mean it won't ring. As soon as it does he'll be trying to dial out, no doubt.

"Ultimately it is your choice, of course, to do as you please. But know that I am only trying to help."

Yes.

Carter exhales, slumping a bit in his chair, wondering how one tiny word can be such a punch to the gut.

His hand comes up to rub at the top of his head. Okay. Dream or not, this is happening right now so he has to deal with it right now, whether he wants to or not. Just like in the real world, and for a moment he wonders if this is all some bizarre amalgam of his ER experiences after all. Whatever it is, it's probably best to learn all he can about it, no matter how disturbing or crazy.

He glances over at the landline, his fingers tapping nervously against the cup. The phone thing again. Earlier he hadn't given it much thought but what had sounded like a funny quip from his part now rings hollow in his ears.

"... What happens if I don't answer the phone?"

Well, all things considered, John Carter is taking things pretty well. There hasn't been a single piece of good news to come out of Doc's mouth, apart from the fact that when they die around here it will likely not be from starvation or dehydration. But Doc watches closely for any sign that maybe he should ease up on the details or just continue talking.

"Honestly? I don't know. What I do know is that five people were killed on the same day at roughly the same time more than a week ago, and there seemed to be a pattern between those who answered the phone and those who did or could not. I am no longer much of a believer in stories about putting some blood of the lamb on the doorframe but it is not a big sacrifice, answering the phone." Doc would have said something different if they had received some instruction like 'kill thy neighbour' but so far they have only experienced two similar commands - don't go outside during that fateful morning fog, and more recently to keep the lanterns lit.

"What?"

Did he just hear that right? People died?

There's a disturbed look on Carter's face. While he figured it probably wasn't something good, he still didn't quite expect that and hearing it out loud, five people were killed, comes as a bit of a shock to him. His mind is racing, how is any of that possible? How is not answering the phone going to get you killed?

"That's horrible! I'm so sorry for your loss?"

"It's only a hypothesis," Doc is quick to emphasise. He doesn't think there is a direct link between a phone call and their survival. "One of several. But the voice had said not to go outside and, well. No one who had been outside at the time made it." Some people indoors hadn't made it either though so it must have been a combination of things at work.

"That wasn't the strangest thing. Four of those people showed up again. And we were sure they were dead before we buried them." Obviously no theories about that one yet, or how anything could pull that off.

If there is the facial equivalent of a record scratch, that's pretty much what Carter is doing. He gapes, opens his mouth, the words won't quite come and instead turn into a incoherent sputter. He purses his lips and exhales, then tries again.

"They... showed up again."

He says it slowly, reiterating the words.

"They died and you buried them and they showed up again."

There's a certain helplessness on his face, like he doesn't quite know what to do with this information. He has it now, it's there in his grasp, but it's almost abstract. Like he knows the words but can't quite get at their meaning.

Eventually he leans forward, like he's afraid of being overheard.

"Are you talking zombies? The undead?"

"Well, some 'undying' process had definitely occurred. Either that or something more akin to Lazarus." Doc doesn't much believe in anything anymore but occasionally he does come across one or two stray miracles.

"Not that I am suggesting such an insensitive thing as bringing up the topic, but I did bury a man who is here in this very house and you may at least see for yourself. He is no zombie." Doc's not naming Coulson, even though he's only ruled Helen out by identifying the victim as male. He figures the experience was traumatic enough and it is his own ordeal to share should he decide to want to talk about it.

"They're in this house? ... No, no, right. That... that would be rude I guess."

When he thinks about it - how would you even go on about that? So I heard you died and resurrected, what was THAT all about?

He exhales, shaking his head, then pushes the cup over.

"I think I'm gonna need another one of these."

Or three. Or thirty.

"Of course." Doc's still on his first, but he's been here a little while longer and this isn't all news to him. He's come to terms with strange shit happening before he even got to Mathias. He tops John up three quarters of the way before setting the coffee pot down and nudging the cup over, as sympathetic as he can manage to be. These circumstances call for more action and less sympathy. If they are here - and stuck here because of the blizzard - then there must be something that needs to be done.

"There is a lot to take in. Just- we may be here a few days, so there would be no harm taking things a day at a time."

"Thank you."

Carter flashes him a shaky but warm smile, the gratitude genuine and heartfelt as he pulls the cup towards him. It really makes all this a little more bearable, gives him an idea of not being alone.

"I guess that's what I've been trying to do. After the initial freak-out, that is? I'm just slowly processing it all. ... Or I'm still in shock and haven't actually processed any of it. In which case, I'd like to apologize for any screaming or crying in advance."

It's probably not going to get anywhere near that bad but it feels good to joke about it. There's a slightly self-deprecating chuckle and he takes a sip.

"So... where are you from, Mr. Henry? Before you found yourself here?"

"Hey. You do what you need to do." There is no need to apologise for getting caught up in a shitty situation, as far as he's concerned. Anyway, a great many things that have vexed him would have probably been made more tolerable if he had thrown 'dignified' to the wind and done some screaming and crying of his own.

"I was in a small town called Purgatory. It is north, past Montana, near Calgary." He doesn't expect anyone to have heard of the place. If he had just said Purgatory it would probably lead people to think he's referring to Hell's waiting room.

Well. Maybe the town is aptly named in that way.

"And yourself? A city boy, I presume?" There is no judgement in that tone. City or country they're all sharing the same big piece of land.

Purgatory. Well, that's... strangely fitting, considering everything that's happened to them. He's almost surprised Mathias isn't called anything more like it. Inferno, maybe. Avalanche. Fogmound.

"That obvious, huh?"

He grins, not feeling any insult from the question.

"Chicago, born and bred. I'm not really used to small towns. ... Not that I've seen much of this one but I'm already full of city slicker prejudice. Or maybe that's just, you know. The whole kidnapping part."

And the murder fog. And the coming back from the dead. And the part where it's all horribly and horrifying.

"I'm sure it's lovely without all that."

All things considered Fogmound is probably a better name for this place.

"It is not for everyone," Doc says gently. It is okay to hate small towns, John. He has been through what would have been considered big, bustling towns back in the day but he has never experienced the big city metropolitan life himself. It probably wouldn't suit him, a place with too many people and more noises than he can make sense of.

"In small towns everyone knows each other and we look out for each other." Sometimes there are terrible rumours, in part because there is nothing else to do, but they can try to take the good without the bad here since they are the masters of their own township. There are no locals to contend with, no preexisting culture they need to conform to.

"If you need help it is okay to ask." Do what he says, not what he does.

That's very kind and heartwarming and exactly what he needs. He's a team player, a people person, used to having others around to have his back and just knowing there is some kind of support system or others willing to help does a lot for him. Some of the tension in his shoulders eases and he smiles, giving a small nod.

"I will. Thank you."

He holds up the cup a little.

"You're already helped more than you know."

"When this storm blows over I will be returning to 1306 Phillips Drive." John won't be needing a map to find his way around - there are few roads in Mathias and everything is marked. "You are welcome to visit at any time." He would invite him to stay too, but their house is already over capacity. At least, he hopes it still is, assuming everyone is still there and he was the only one taken. That wasn't what happened last time though - they had ended up somewhere different.

"I have amassed close to a dozen first aid kits. There are no tools in them, and we are perpetually short on bandages, but they are sufficient for any minor scrapes or burns. You are welcome to take some with you, should you decide to visit." If you know your way around sutures you are never really off the clock. At least, that has been Doc's experience.

024-027 » neither reward nor punishment

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