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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Dean doesn't react, his lips coming together in a smile. Cas is in one piece, presumably, since Doc didn't say he was in distress upstairs. But, the last thing Dean remembers is, drinking, arranging, and yeah, there was kissing.

"Quentin?" he asks, acknowledging Cas with the raising of a brow. Coldwater, Doc, and Cas. And him. So far. Got a count down, at least.

"Doors and windows are locked," he confirms, leaning back again. "Not Claire?" he checks, eyes traveling upward again. The coffee machine beeps, the drip ceasing.

"Coffee?"

"Yes. I did not see her, but there may be more people on this floor." He hadn't seen Dean upstairs so it stands to reason they would run into more people once they left the kitchen area.

"I would have whatever you aren't drinking." Dean definitely needs it more though. It looks like there was a rough night from where he's standing, but it is rude to pry.

"Has this happened to you before? Waking up in a different part of the town." It has to Doc so he's taking things in his stride. This is much preferable over that wet, dark cave he ended up in last time. It had made him want to scream and one of very few things that helped was having some company to keep him from spiraling.

He pours Doc a mug of piping hot black coffee, sliding in front of him.

"Not here," he says, an eyebrow raised at the judgment that might be being passed. "Have I woken up in a place I didn't remember. Who hasn't."

He realizes pretty quickly Doc is not passing judgment. He doesn't amend what he says, however, even though he could say, 'Not since the beach,' but this is a stubborn Dean Winchester. And if he is going to know Doc, Doc is going to know him. And Dean is an ass. Even on his best day.

Malcolm did keep him from freezing to death in the snow. But, that wasn't a matter of suddenly waking up on the floor of 1301 Phillips Dr.

"...Has this happened before?"

"Thank you," he says quietly, pulling the coffee in close, careful not to step on any more plastic fruits on the ground as he leans against the kitchen counter. It is a difficult morning. Unnecessarily difficult circumstances. Dean is allowed to be a little testy.

"About two weeks ago perhaps. This was before the first batch of moonshine was ready, so we were painfully sober at the time. Raylan and I were staying in that house then. And then I was in a cave the next morning. Raylan ended up in the lighthouse." Doc purses his lips and frowns into his coffee before taking a sip.

"We made it back in one piece in the end. I am confident we will do so again." Individual stupidity and recklessness notwithstanding. "Suppose it is best we look around since we are snowed in and try not to get ourselves killed in the process."

Please don't say the words, 'Painfully sober' to him right now. He is well aware of what that's like. Any remnants of a buzz have been superseded by the hangover. Not that this is his first hangover. Just his worst in a long time. And it has been a long time since he's had one, since he's drank enough to both kiss Cas and feel like this the next day. Partly because of drinking and partly because of proving Castiel right. Castiel could not have him in that way, no matter how much he wanted him.

"What was in the cave?"

He assumes nothing, since nothing is the answer to everything they ask. (Because he's never asked, who's on the porch, out loud before.) He does agree they need to inspect the house. Doc's confidence is something, and it is worth something. Dean believes and agrees with that, too.

He finishes his own coffee, pushing past his sweaty, clammy forehead he can feel every time he wrinkles it. He does glance to the windows, and back to the door as he finally comes around the counter.

He's not decent, far from it. His puffy coat is open, not covering his dark t-shirt or matching boxer briefs. He wishes he wore his pajama bottoms the night before but he was 'can't face himself drunk' passing out faced down into his own bed.

"A most determined young lady and, funnily enough, a round mirror." Of which there seems to be no shortage around this house, all covered up down all the different hallways. He hasn't gotten around to investigating them yet, still feeling like he's in someone else's house and he shouldn't really be touching too many of their things even though it's going to be as abandoned as all the other houses they have already come across so far.

"I'm afraid nothing of significance happened or was found there." He takes his time with his coffee, maintaining eye contact occasionally, or otherwise looking around what he can see from where he's standing the house. He's too polite to mention anything about Dean's haphazard state of dress - has he not ever shown up in worse threads? - and he's not sure if there will be right-sized clothes to be found upstairs in the rooms for him to get changed into anyway.

"This house may be a little more promising by way of mysteries to solve." Although it will likely all lead to dead ends the same as their other mysteries before. "We could perhaps start with that tattoo on your hand." He had not seen it before when Dean had come over so either someone attempted an art class in the middle of the night last night or there is more to the story that needs explaining.

"Real funny," he agrees. Not that it's not interesting, the similarities. The round mirror. He doesn't get 'funny lady.' Maybe he'll ask. Dean, too will get to inspection. He hasn't made it yet, not without coffee. Not without -- who knows, anymore. Maybe he'll just die here in the kitchen. Dehydrate into a puddle.

"May it." Dean's not so sure. Nothing's been promising with answers. How different will this house be. Dead ends beget dead ends beget dead freakin' ends when Dean can't follow through or break someone's heart.

That thought ended differently than where it started.

Glancing down at his hand around the mug, he lets go and tilts it, flexing his fingers.

"Uhh." He's at a loss. Again. He hates this town. "I'm - I'm marked, now?"

"Marked? By what?" Dean had balked and seemed so sure of what he's saying, it leads Doc to assume he knows exactly what he's talking about. Pushing his own drink a little further towards the middle of the kitchen counter, Doc flexes his own hands, checks both of them, palm and back. Nothing.

He grabs a bundle of his shirt collar and lifts it away from his chest, trying to look down. Nothing also.

"Well I haven't checked everywhere but I believe it is just you, for the moment. I did not see that when you came over yesterday to check in on Mister Caffrey. Perhaps something had transpired last night?" Doc suggests helpfully. He certainly didn't get up to anything last night himself. They had guests in the house that needed settling in until the storm blew over and he busied himself playing host, subtly checking their stockpile of food and first aid supplies, sterilising some bed linen and pillowcases in boiled water just in case they ran out of bandages and so on. It was an awfully domestic and ultimately quiet night.

"By --" he stammers, letting go of the mug now. He doesn't know. He doesn't know the answer, he only knows he recognizes the symbol. "I've seen this before," he hedges, remembering the film, the case and the symbol emblazoned upon it.

How did it end up on his hand. He eyes Doc, expecting something from him. Why does he get the mark? Because he watched that freakin' film strip?

Doc supposes it's last night that did him in, that marked him, and Dean goes white, whiter than he is if it's possible, veins coursing ice on through to his brittle heart.

"What -," he starts. "Maybe it's delayed." He doesn't know. It could be the film. It's not the night before. It's not. It's not often you see fear in Dean, and in this case, an underlying confusion he doesn't hold back. "It's not last night."

It's not rejecting Cas. It's not getting bombed. It's not passing out alone. It's not visiting Neal and them.

It's not.

Right?

"Somewhere in Mathias or something you recognise from back home?" Doc clarifies. Not that it truly matters because he has been marked either way, but the more information they have, the better prepared they can all be for whatever is coming for Dean. Presumably something is coming or there would not be a target on his hand.

"We ought to check in on the others. And your friend Castiel. Maybe they also bear the m-mmm... are you alright?" That was not the reaction that Doc had been expecting. Clearly there had been a lot of drinking involved but beyond that, he wasn't insinuating that anything particularly spectacular had happened last night.

"Mathias," he confirms. "In the movie theatre. This symbol, it was on a reel Constantine and I found," he adds, focusing more on that than anything that may or may not have happened the night before.

"Fine. 5 by 5," he shares, doing his best impression of Faith Lehane. Even if he'd wanted to conceal just how not 5 by 5 he is, his wince, his sweat, and his body language betrays him.

"Let's check," he says, agreeing and coming around the counter.

"Anything particularly interesting in the movie that might hint at what the symbol represents?" Unless everyone in the movie died or something. Then maybe they should not dwell on it too much and try to figure out a way to get rid of it.

"You seem a little more... three out of five to me," Doc observes. Not that he knows what 'five by five' means or refers to. "You might need some more water. And if you are cold we may also try to find you some more to wear while we're at it." That is all that Doc is going to comment about Dean's attire.

"Just guys walking through the forest -" He gets caught, his glance away to try and talk about something else turning into real distraction. "Like that," he says, pointing. As if he can't control his own steps, Dean walks over to the hanging photo, a still of a frame he realizes mirrors a frame from the film exactly.

"I'm fine," he says again, coming to a stop in front of the still. And, if he were counting, he's a two out of five. Emotionally, physically, spiritually. It's not good. But, he's not saying that.

"...like that," Doc repeats, eyes sweeping over the photographs.

"I have seen a very similar photograph before." He plucks one from where it is wedged behind the mirror and turns it over before inspecting the photo itself a little closer.

Dean says 'I'm fine' the way Doc says 'I'm fine' when he is most definitely not fine, but he doesn't push Dean the same way he would not want to be pushed.

Plucking another photograph and inspecting it, Doc holds them both out to Dean. "These were taken over a hundred years apart. But some of the faces depicted look to be of the same people."

"You have?" he asks, not touching either photo, even half looking at them, letting Doc do the inspecting. The last time he made the effort, he knew he shouldn't have. And, it may be why he was marked. It would be better to say that than to stand still. Frozen. But, that's what he does.

Finally, he looks when they're held out to him.

"I saw That 70's Show," he says, pointing. "I didn't see the other one," he adds, shaking his head, shuddering from the memory again. "Think that's why it looks like I got my hand tattooed down in TJ?"

Even if his trip to the museum had made him significantly less adventurous, nothing has happened to him yet from looking at the fronts and backs of photos.

"No. But it might all be connected. The film, the photographs, the mark." Doc grasps the sheet of cloth covering the mirror, tempted to rip it away, but with mild trepidation about what he might find underneath. He doesn't feel like he can act worried or afraid with Dean hovering close by but he's not sure what's under the white sheet, either. It's fine if he perishes but he would feel guilty if it was something that would jump out and attack Dean, even though it looks like it might be keeping dust off of a mere portrait or something.

Taking just a small step backwards, he glances over at Dean, jerking his head to indicate to him to maybe step aside a little bit before slowly lifting the cover, tilting his head to take a peek. He sees a sliver of mirror, judging from the reflection of some flooring, and keeps pulling the sheet away until he sees the writing and the figure.

"Christ--" He turns to look over his shoulder, but their new friend is not standing behind them. Maybe it is stupid but Doc touches the mirror, just to be sure it's a flat glass surface and not something he can put his hand through or feel some... demonic phantomy wispy thing, and then he reads the writing overhead. This we offer in humility and fear. This... these photographs? The plastic fruit? Or the idiots stranded in the house?

Well. Shit.

"I think I'd better. Put this back on." He clears his throat and purses his lips, nodding a few times before draping the cloth back over the mirror. At least it seems to have its back turned and might not be interested in Doc or Dean.

"Oh my," he says in response. And because he's all for helping while Doc inspects the frames, Dean keeps speaking. "Rule of three's. Wizard of Oz. Lions. Tigers. ...Bears. You live under a rock the last hundred years or are you strictly into books and text?"

Doc is busy - oh, with the mirror. Sure. He indicates that Dean she step back, or away, just in case. And maybe Dean reacted that way with the film, but he doesn't move when Doc tugs at the cover. Doc may see the writing first, but Dean sees the spirit - the shadow and he turns, suddenly. It's not behind them, it's just in the mirror.

"That is wrong."

Dean nods, though, not trusting the mirror now.

"Do you think that's here now and we can't see it or it's just in there?" he asks, crossing his arms, half circling the mirror and giving a long look around them.

Dean loses him easily. Lord knows he is trying but he can't follow this thread between the current mystery at hand and the animals. There are three wizards now?

"I lived under a rock," he confirms. It's not completely untrue either. But it's safe to say that if it wasn't something from the mid- to late 1800s he might catch even fewer references than Castiel does.

"The mirror felt like any other mirror. It's probably standing right there." Watching something in the room or waiting to kill them or- whatever it is spectres do in their free time just lounging around an empty house. Doc gingerly puts the photographs back. He does not wish to be the catalyst for any confrontations after one wrong move, one unfortunate word, one misstep.

"Have you ever encountered anything like that in all your hunts?"

"Noted," he says. Doesn't mean he'll stop making his references.

Now Dean's staring right where the shadow was, right into the empty space.

"Bloody Mary," he says, approaching where the shadow was. "Drop it again," he asks Doc, ready to -- he doesn't even know. "She was a whole spirit, though. Angry dead girl. Clawed people's eyes out that had secrets. Someone died because of them, even accidentally, she knew. You said it three times into the mirror, she -- clawed."

He's ready to pull the cloth down again but the more Dean talks the more Doc sort of does a squinty triple take, unable to completely take his eyes off the covering but also unable to completely take his eyes off Dean.

"So I pull this off and say... my secrets three times? And she will climb out of the mirror and claw my eyes out. While you dispatch of her." Is that the plan? "Any... secret in particular? Are you sure you don't need a weapon?"

"No," he starts, waving a hand. "No, no. There's no -- That isn't this. That probably isn't this. People who had a secret death in their past, accident they were a part of... assisted suicide, then they said her name, Bloody Mary -- that, three times, then they got their eyes clawed out. If we really wanted to get her, we'd have to find the original mirror, show her her own reflection."

Still not easy to follow, though, right?

"I'm just testing a theory. See if the shadow ... does anything."

Yeah okay Dean but don't tell a man about getting his eyes clawed out by some hysterical woman in the mirror as he's about to remove the covering of said mirror.

Not that he's afraid of such a fate, but he figures if he doesn't say 'Bloody Mary' he is at least not taunting the poor lady. If she decides to climb out of the mirror anyway and attack him then they will deal with it at that juncture.

"How do you know which is the original mirror?" He asks, tearing his gaze off of Dean as he starts to pull the mirror cover away again.

Doc is honestly bracing for losing his eyes so he takes a couple of steps backwards, but nothing happens. Only the figure seems to have moved, but. Is currently not moving.

He checks over his shoulder again, just to be sure.

"I don't think she was impressed with your 'Bloody Mary' talk."

"We did research. Tracked it down. This was fifteen years ago, man. One example," he makes clear, letting his gaze fall back on the mirror. Like Doc, he sees the figure is in a different place altogether. He was where Dean was standing, but not he is further away.

Watching the mirror, Dean backs away, one foot behind the other as he keeps his eye on the mirror and lines up with where the shadow would be.

"Whoever it is," he figures, looking beside him. "They're not here, then. They're in there." Or, they can only be seen inside the mirror. He doesn't actually know. Doc should realize Dean is not the be all and end all of what should happen or be done. "It. Her."

Him?

"Maybe, if we check all the mirrors, they'll all have writing." And maybe that writing will lead them to the original.

Well. Dean talks like he knows everything so forgive him for assuming he ought to trust that authoritative tone. He expects Dean to trust him if this were something more in his realm of expertise, after all.

"I'm- not sure if we should be antagonising our friend. But we should at least find a few more mirrors." And if a few more mirrors are the same then they can decide on their next course of action. Doc leaves the sheet piled on the floor.

"There were a few upstairs. One in each bedroom, and the bathroom of course."

Dean would. Except, Dean's not convinced his world's rules hold up here. He just doesn't know. He knows nothing. He's freaking Jon Snow.

Of course, the bathroom.

"We're taking mirror inventory now," he replies, nodding to himself. It's a plan. "What was the mirror like in the cave? Was there a shadow, too?" Hadn't Doc said the cave he'd woken up in had a mirror?

sorry I lost track of this :<

thering - 2021-01-30 13:07 (UTC) - Expand

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024-027 » neither reward nor punishment

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sorry I lost track of this :<