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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[Raylan smiled, closed mouthed, eyebrows lifting every so slightly.]

Right. Cause normal people never do nothin'. [Of course they had plenty to fear from their fellow man. Just because a handful of them were competent and blissfully somewhere near 'normal' didn't make 'normal' harmless. Besides. Mathis had a way of twisting things to a new level and man did bring out the worst in man.]

I'd rather be seen as borin', myself. Gives me a lot more room to move around. And for the record? A general check on wellbeing ain't got anythin' to do with if you're interesting.. [So don't be handing out credit there. He glanced over at Malcolm a half second before looking back at Will.] Though that's just me.

You think we're here to see if you're dangerous. No. We wanted to see if you were settling in okay.

[He considered Will for a moment.] You know, you can understand them without empathizing with them... [But something he saw there stopped him.] Oh. You can't. That's how you understand them. [He leaned forward with interest.] Where did you learn how to know them?

[ Raylan. Did he touch a nerve? Will looks at the Marshall with an expression that suggests, once again, that he is used to these sort of pissing contests among the many branches of law enforcement. ]

Normal people do things all the time, Marshall. [ He said softly. ] But local law enforcement, and many federal branches of law enforcement are well up to the task of keeping those individuals under control and the population safe.

I don't get called in to play, until the body count is above eight or more. Most normal people don't rack up those kinds of numbers.

[ As for the idea that they find Will interesting? Raylan might not. Malcolm seems to and Will's expression says that clearly, before he turns his attention to Malcolm. ]

My psychiatric files have it listed as 'pure empathy'. Combine that with an eidetic memory I did not learn it, exactly. It became a hazard of the job.

I absorb the crime scene evidence. [ Eidetic memory at work ] Then climb into the head of the monster de jour, and relive the murders with them. Step by step, urge by urge, need by need.

This provides the BAU a complete psychological profile of the killer. In addition, I find connections between the evidence that is otherwise overlooked, which allows for a successful conviction.

Neat and tidy. [ Except for the part where it wasn't always an easy thing to peel himself apart from the monsters. ]

[Not a personal one. Raylan was uninteresting and frankly, very pleased with that fact. It wasn't a contest he was willing to participate in. But the idea that no one had anything to fear from one another - that was a different story.

Maybe Will hadn't picked up on the Sarcasm. That's okay. He was going through something.]

[Malcolm heard that out and then, after a moment's contemplation, he realized something and shook his head. Pure empathy.]

No. You don't 'get inside their heads'. Getting inside their heads, that's how I do it. I dissect their psyches, their motives, their needs. You become them for a little while. You understand them by putting them on like a coat.

Semantics. [ Because that had been what Will meant, but he could see how his message got turned around. ] And you are almost correct in your allusion.

Calling them a coat suggests I can take them off when I'm done. Hang them up in a closet. Shut the door.

[ Ducking his head, Will looked hard at Malcolm, Raylan watched out of the corner of his eye but his focus on the younger profiler. ] But you know how it is, Mr. Bright. Little bits of lint from those coats like to stick to your clothes.

Edited 2021-01-24 19:51 (UTC)

[Even if he wasn't playing, Raylan could see the conversational chess board, appreciate what the suggested undertones implied between them. He wasn't going to stop the game, but he was keeping an ear on Malcolm's tone while his eyes stayed busy on Will's face.

Someone had to do their jobs, yes, that was true. Just like someone had to do Raylan's job. He, however, didn't take such a deep dive into things. His world was significantly simpler. His was a duty to stopping bad people doing bad things. Even if those people had once been good. By and large, that was it. End of story. The men he'd put down, justified or not, gave him no joy and took no hesitation.

If Will couldn't take off his 'coats'.. how many bad guys were under the mop of hair?

Raylan wishes he had his gun, then it wouldn't matter, either way.

It's a little more than semantics. If you know you can't take those coats off, then why put them on? [He leaned forward again.] And you didn't answer my question. Deflected from it, actually. Who taught you murder? You can use 'pure empathy' to do a lot of things. Things that wouldn't leave you in someone else's blood coat. Why do this?

[ Will wouldn't blame Raylan for wishing he had his gun.

As for the chess match with our clever Mr. Bright. Will tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. ] Didn't anyone ever teach you it's rude to ask questions to which you already know the answer?

[ Come on, Malcolm. Let's drop the pretenses. You know good and well why. ]

[ Because he enjoys it.

This was not his chess game, so he kept his mouth shut. But all the red flags and neckhairs that Will had raised that first night they'd met were all firmly stuck in that position when it came to the case of Mister Graham.]

I'm concerned that I do. I'm hoping that I don't. But I don't think you do it for the same reasons I do. I think your reasons have more to do with the killers than the victims. I just don't understand why.

[ Perhaps some tension will break when Will sighs tiredly and sits back in his chair, drawing his hand over his face. The exhaustion is deep in the lines of his face. ]

It was about helping to ensure there were no more victims. [ He said in quiet tones. ] I gave the FBI 100% capture and closure rate.

The problem with those kind of results is you get a reputation of being able to do a better job broken, then anyone else unbroken.

[ His voice softened and he really did simply appear sad. ] I quit over and over but the BAU kept coming and knocking at my door and dragging me back into the dark. Why do you think I finally killed myself?

[ It was like a lightswitch back to the man Raylan had greeted on the floor instead of the calculating dancing man that had just been sitting in front of him. Raylan wasn't a psychologist or behavilorist but his gut served him well enough. He didn't have to understand to trust what it told his senses.

Raylan's chin lifted.]

Killed yourself? [ Raylan remembered exactly what Will said when he finally got his name from him. He wasn't going to lead Will to the water path of explaining his contradiction, leaving him room to do that himself in his answer.]

Why didn't you just tell them 'no'?

[ Will glanced at Raylan, replaying their conversation over in his head. He realized that 'took off a cliff' might not have been a clear statement. ]

While I embraced him in the aftermath of killing the Dragon, I jumped off a cliff and dragged Hannibal with me. It was a deliberate choice.

[ Looking at Malcolm Will's lips twisted into a fatalistic smile. ]

I did. More than once. The last time I had retired completely. For three years. But Jack Crawford is relentless when he is after a monster. He sought me out to take the case. I told him no. So he went to my wife and used Molly to leverage me.

As long as I was alive, the FBI was never going to let me live in peace. [ To be fair, neither would Hannibal. But Will still clung to the belief that he could have continued to ignore Hannibal. It was a foolish belief but sometimes we have to make fools of ourselves. ]

[Raylan's head lifted a little, eyes narrowing slightly as he ran that through. Either Will was bad at killing or this Hannibal monster saw the attack coming. It had all sounded like a chaotic mess, honestly.]

Sounds like harassment. What kinda leverage? [His mind being the dark one that it is, he didn't think anything as kind as conversational manipulation. Not with the vibe of Everything Else Will had.]

I kind of think you should have reported that guy. I had the highest close rate in the Bureau by far when they fired me. Maybe you could have gotten out of it by telling them your dad murdered people for fun.

[ Will sat tapping one fingertip on the table, obviously wrestling with a decision. It was whether to throw the two men out the door and save himself a lot of talking, or just getting this over with here and now.

In the end he decided that if he could stand in front of a class of cadets and instruct them day after day, he could talk at Raylan and Malcolm for a few hours.

To bad there wasn't any of that good whiskey left. ]

My father was a good man. [ He said in a fond tone. ] We were dirt poor but he did his best raising me on my own after my mother took off. We may have cornered the market in shopping thrift, but I was never hungry. [ No, couldn't blame his childhood on what was to follow. ]

After obtaining my masters in forensic science at George Washington University, I was recruited by the FBI. I failed the psychological tests for full agent status, but I was kept as an instructor and used as a 'special investigator' from time to time.

Jack Crawford, Agent in Charge of the BAU, liked to borrow me when he had a monster problem he and his team couldn't wrap their heads around. One of Jack's biggest monster was a man known as the Chesapeake Ripper.

[ Thus begins the story. From the moment Jack walked into Will's classroom and asked him to look at the Hobbs case, to the moment on Hannibal's kitchen floor, in a lake of blood.

Will shared every gorey detail, with instructor like precision as if he were talking about another person, rather than himself. His voice was melodic and despite his anti-social nature, it was obvious that he was a good lecturer, never falling into a drone of background noise.

He told the good and the bad, making no effort to spin himself as flawless, guiltless (he'd made mistakes and he owned him) or ever as a victim. ]

Luckily both Alana and I had contacted ERT teams. It was perhaps thirty seconds after Hannibal left the house that emergency personnel arrived. Alana, Jack and I survived. Abigail did not.

Do either of you want coffee?

[ Because Will was moving to stand after what was probably a long time sitting. No promises the coffee was anything other than instant crap but it would be warm and contain caffeine. ]

[And yet he was. However much a willing participant he became along the way, he was still a victim. It left Raylan in an odd in between place, struggling with the ideals of bad men being put down and where the line for victim and criminal came in. He'd gone to collage for this which thankfully gave him a little more insight but.. If he had books to study up with, he would have.

Raylan listened with his eyes down for most of the story, only glancing up and over at the most gruesome parts. It was made more tolerable, somehow, by Will's steady cadence and rhythm, adding its own odd comfort amid the retold horrors.

The offer of coffee was almost jarring on it's own - a splash of normality in a sea of blood.]

Yes please, thank you, [Raylan started with a faint nod.]

You're lucky to have half the faculties you do, survivin' shit like that. They shoulda been stopped. [For whatever that was worth, he was pissed at the lack of procedure. Some of those were there for a reason, regardless of the souls being saved.]

[Malcolm, on the other hand, had his eyes on Will's face the whole time. Listening was also watching, for him.

He shook his head at the offer of coffee. Too late for him. First thing in the morning only.]

If you woke up from that in your own world, what would you do from there?

[ Clattering around in the kitchen, drawing down two mugs that he had already cleaned of dust and debris Will responded to Malcolm first. ]

I did wake up from that in my own world. [ He clarified. ] There is more to the story, I was just pausing to let you and the Marshall process and to get coffee.

[ Which is what he set about doing, silently for a few minutes almost exactly like an instructor who takes a pause knowing his students will have to wait on him. Only after the water had heated did he start to talk again. ]

After I was released from the hospital, I began to work on a small ocean going boat I picked up cheap in Baltimore Harbor. [ And they were off to the races once more.

Will continued to talk, picking up that calm cadence yet again as he brought Raylan his coffee (sorry no cream or sugar) and went back to sit down. It was time for the tale of chasing Hannibal across the ocean and everything that had happened in Europe.

Will didn't shy away from addressing his conflicted emotions. Talked about his hallucination of Abigail and how he understood it to be that part of his psyche that had wanted to run with Hannibal. He spoke in those same soft and level tones about finding Hannibal, about being shot and then Hannibal's plan to cut open his head and feed his brains to Jack, Hannibal and Will himself until Will eventually died.

Showed off the scar with a flick of his hair.

Then there was Verger and it is at this point that Will's voice changed a bit. The exhaustion and near disassociation of those times came into the story telling. Will had been so done.

He explained about his telling Hannibal he was done chasing him. How Hannibal ended up surrendering so Will would always know where he was and Will's absolute gee great feeling about that.

Then came the Molly and Walter years. Here Will perked back up and though there was sadness and grief underlying the words there was also genuine love and happiness. Living up on the mountain with his dogs and his small family. Teaching Walter how to fish, Molly's powerful personality and their similar opinion on rescuing strays. There is definitely a sense that Will had let Molly lead them in life and had been happy to stay on his mountain as something of a house husband.

Three years of peace.

Till the day a letter arrived from the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, and Jack Crawford drove up the mountain to find Will. ]

He needed help with the Dragon. I told him I wanted nothing to do with it. In fact I refused to let him even into the house. [ Will tapped the side of his mug. ]

Molly invited him to stay for dinner. When I was out with Walter and the dogs, Jack showed her the pictures of a happy families: dead families. Molly never could stand by and let bad things happen, she always wanted to save the world. That's why we had a house full of dogs. I expect it was part of what drew her to me in the first place.

She told me I needed to go. She needed me to go.

[In the silence, Raylan pushed to his feet and paced to the windows, only pacing back to collect the coffee. Good, black. Just the way he both needed and liked it. The cold had settled permanently into his bones and he wasn't built to withstand it for as long as he had, layers or not.

He'd stay standing as Will continued. Why is he telling this in such detail? Thoroughness, maybe. A way to ensure they had as few questions as possible maybe, to be left alone after it. Raylan didn't understand it, laying things so clearly out, bearing the soul.

He couldn't help staring at Will as he talked about the almost harvesting of his brain, the set up, the twisted connection.. Real shame this coffee didn't come with whiskey. He was going to end up with more nightmares.

Molly sounded sweet though, a faint softening of the edge of it all and it was enough to let Raylan start moving again, not so astutely enraptured in horror.]

I've known a few people like that. Kind people but they put a little too much trust in things working the way they expect them to work.

She told you to go and just like your stray dogs, you went to go save some more souls.. No concerns about your state of mind out there after those kinda breaks? [The faint lift of his tone and pinch of his face suggested a whole bunch of 'Who the hell is running this operation'. Who was running Jack? Anyone at all?]

“Here’s a question for your soul;
How many times can
a broken thing break?

And the Gods whispered:
Let’s see, shall we?”

[Malcolm quoted, though in Will’s case, the curiosity seemed to belong to this ‘Jack’ person.]

Maybe you’ll at least have some space to be yourself instead of them for a bit here.

[ Will gave Malcolm a sad but knowing nod in response to his words, before he looked towards Raylan. ]

Molly is an incredibly intelligent woman, but she is also a good soul. I told her a great deal of what happened to me, I had too because she saw all the scars. But a good mind, a mind without the right ... door, could not comprehend the totality of the horror.

[ Taking a long sip of his coffee Will continued with the rest of it. Raylan wondered why he was so direct with the details? It was because Will had learned that the greatest danger, when it came to Hannibal Lecter, was allowing any shadow to linger.

Hannibal knew how to cloak himself in even a sliver of darkness. The least little blindspot could be fatal. It might also have something to do with how utterly exhausted Will was of ... all of it. Even his parts in the grotesque mural painted by all of them.

The story did eventually end, about the time Will was finished with his coffee. Just toying with the mug. He looked at Malcolm was that interesting for you little one? then to Raylan. ]

You asked about the blood when we first met. Literally and figuratively, I was soaked in the blood of many.

[Raylan looked at Malcolm as he recited that.. poem? and frowned into his coffee cup a little before looking back at Will for his answers. Raylan was educated but not well read in the same way his company was, so he didn't recognise the too apt words.

He could only nod softly, hiding the rest of his disconcertion behind a shallow pull from his mug.

When Will spoke to him again, Raylan shook his head a little.]

I don't work in other people's figuritives, though I am sorry for what you've lost and suffered. There's too much room to move around in and I don't pick people apart as... intensely as the pair of you, apparently. [Which wasn't a bad or derogatory thing to any of the parties concerned. He avoided those figurative rooms as much as possible; he knew he'd too easily get lost and trapped there if he didn't keep his feet and head where they were supposed to be.]

I can't guess what you're used to in terms of dealin' with law enforcement outside of the FBI, but the Marshal's Service stays out of philosophy unless it helps build a specific point of case. [He got the sense he didn't enjoy his job quite as much as Will and Malcolm did, though the split in the types of their enjoyment could be a whole thesis on its own, he was sure.]

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abrightboy - 2021-02-02 01:42 (UTC) - Expand

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024-027 » neither reward nor punishment

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