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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"I reckon gunslingers and gamblers the world over would agree to disagree on that one." These are self-serving professions and Doc has been told, on multiple occasions and in no uncertain terms, how selfish and cowardly he is. He ducks his head a little, not enough to hide his smile, but enough to pop his hat off and turn it towards Malcolm.

"Ain't hiding nothing there, I promise. See?" Raylan's is empty too, if he cares to look. "If I had an idea it would die of loneliness." That's a Southernism for calling oneself stupid. Doc so rarely hesitates to slide a self-depreciating comment in here and there.

"That would depend entirely on who they sling their gun for," Malcolm said. "Plus you're a dentist, and the importance of oral health to overall health can't be understated."

He laughed happily when Doc showed him the inside of his hat.

"You and Raylan can hide your smarts from the world at large, but not from me. You're both very clever."

"Nobody here wants me in their mouths," Doc laments as he slides his hat back on, wiggling it a bit to seat it properly.

That came out wrong.

"I mean. All we got here are some pliers and screwdrivers, y'know," he follows up swiftly, glad for the change in topic and following that up more closely.

"We aren't hiding anything on purpose. We just tell it like it is." Doc is careful not to say that they don't overthink things. They do, like everyone else, try as they might to be simple men. Perhaps even more so than everyone else, considering how much they drink and don't say aloud.

"But I appreciate your kind words. And I'm sure he does, too."

Malcolm smiled again at that. Not kind and lovable. Sure.

"I was thinking of getting a hat," Malcolm told him. "Not a cool hat like you guys have; just... one of those knit ones from the store. In case there's a bad snowstorm again." He looked at Doc. "Do you think it's just going to squish my hair and not accomplish much, though, or does that seem worthwhile, warmth-wise?"

A cool hat? The term confuses him. He understands cool to be a compliment more so than just indicative of temperature. But to him it is just a hat. It has an aura about it, maybe. Conveys a certain image. Gives them a sense of security. But ultimately it's just a hat.

"I-- I mean I'm flattered you are asking me for fashion advice." He doesn't know what has been trending for the past century. Judging from the reaction to what the local clothing store has to offer, not flannel. But he might be a little biased, in that he doesn't really care for 'hat head' or 'hat hair' or whatever it is Malcolm is worried about.

"A knitted hat would be practical. It may get colder yet, and function is more important than form out here. We may need more blankets. Warmer coats. You are probably used to this, but I don't think Raylan finds this climate agreeable."

"Yeah, I assume that's why he always thinks I'm going to freeze to death. He doesn't seem comfortable with the cold."

Not that Malcolm wouldn't be happy to keep him warm, but... he's just going to push that feeling back down.

"I think the hat is a good idea. I'll go pick one up next time I'm by the store." He ran his hands down his coat. "This coat is very warm though. Maybe I'll pick up a sweater too."

"I think if the season changes to something more agreeable with him then we would all agree that we have been here too long." Doc had lived most of his life in warmer counties, too, but a deathly cold winter at the bottom of a well freezes any kind of preference right out of you. At that point it's just a matter of surviving, and. Honestly maybe he still thinks in that frame of mind sometimes. Just surviving, rather than actually thinking about living.

They are back at their house now, and Doc, he unconsciously checks the footprints in the snow around near the front door. He runs his hand up a length of the side of the door as he gets it open, feeling for any signs of a break-in. Maybe he's paranoid. Maybe he just does these things to reassure himself. It takes him a mere few seconds to deem it okay to re-enter with his guard down, and then he's checking to see if anyone else is around the communal areas of the house.

Maybe one day he'll feel safe enough to just walk in, but. In this place? It's highly doubtful.

"I know I'm not at my best here and I need to go home and... get myself back together but... I'm also a bit reluctant to leave you guys at this point," Malcolm told Doc. "We don't know if we'll be able to see each other when we go back; we don't know if we're from the same universe."

There are no guarantees when it comes to such matters. Perhaps they will return to familiar territory. That seems the most ideal outcome. Perhaps they will end up someplace completely different, the same way they had been brought here.

"Had we ended up somewhere nice I might have thought it would have been fine to want to stay. But being here makes it easier to avoid responsibilities that we are accountable for." He wants to be here for the acquaintances he has made during his time here. But he also needs to be getting back, and he does not want for the people here to be caught up in the perils of Purgatory. At least Doc is used to meeting good people and leaving them behind. The same cannot be said for everyone else.

"I will be with you, for as long as I am able to, for as long as you want me to." He may not be the cowboy that Malcolm wants to hear those words from, but he can only make promises within his means. At some point, when he's ready, he should leave this nest and be free. But until then, this big fat grumpy bird will be hanging around on guard duty.

Malcolm wants to hear those words from this cowboy as much as the other one, even if it’s in a slightly different way. He loves Doc, but the feelings he stirs are almost paternal. Like a protective older brother. Assurances of his continued steady presence for as long as it’s needed matter to him, even if he trusts Doc’s reliability unquestioningly.

Malcolm shrugged his coat off and put it over one of the kitchen island stools. “Want some tea or coffee or something?”

"Sure. Whatever you are making for yourself." Which should hopefully force Malcolm to make something for himself even if he might not have had the intention to. Malcolm is easy to worry about. He is also a convenient excuse for them to not have to worry about other things. Nonetheless, he could help alleviate some of both their concern for him by at least eating and drinking regularly, even if he can only stomach a fraction of what they do.

“Chamomile tea?” he said with a faint hint of amusement. He wasn’t sure he could picture Doc sipping chamomile tea, but it was all they had for herbal tea in the General Store and he still had yet to check the greenhouse and apothecary.

It felt like getting his hopes up. He was finding some kind of footing in chamomile tea and the care of the cowboys and willowbark infused in his afternoon black tea. They wouldn’t have a secret stash of benzos in that place.

He put the kettle on, looking over to see if Doc wanted to change his order.

Edited 2021-02-02 17:37 (UTC)

"Well. Not necessarily my poison of choice," he muses with a smile. "But I would drink it, if it's not taking from your stockpile." He can survive on rain and drain water if he has to. He survived 19th century contaminated water after all, even though nobody really knew better at the time. He would rather they save what Malcolm needs for Malcolm himself.

"Used to be tea and liquor was safer to drink than water. Suppose I can't use that excuse anymore." Not that he ever tried to excuse his drinking. He knows it's excessive.

"Maybe it'll put us both to sleep."

“It replenishes at the General Store,” Malcolm told him, dropping teabags in two cups. “So two chamomile teas,” he concluded with a smile. He turned to look at Doc. “Are you okay? Have you... have you been sleeping okay?”

Maybe one day things will stop replenishing at the General Store. It is one of many worries that kick around in Doc's mind. Like a fog that goes where it pleases, it may decide one day that it has given them enough. He has been stockpiling judiciously, bringing extra cans back at the end of each day he is able to venture out later at night when everyone else has had the chance to raid the store and the Grey Gull, but with 5 people in the house it won't last them forever.

"I slept so much in the two days we were away I thought you might be lying awake at night feeling quietly envious and resentful about it," he jokes.

Malcolm smiled down into the teacups.

"I never begrudge anyone else their sleep," he said. "I'm not getting it whether you get it or not. Someone should." He looked at Doc. "You'll be sharper if something happens if you're getting your sleep in. I... feel bad about disturbing it. But I appreciate... that you don't want me to."

"It feels selfish," he says quietly. It would be a waste to have everyone deprive themselves of sleep on account of some false sense of solidarity but Malcolm brings the privilege of it to light and makes him aware of one of many things he takes for granted.

"I have been called selfish many times. Usually in the heat of the moment, but that makes it no less true." Perhaps unsurprisingly, Doc 'well frankly I don't give a shit' Holliday takes these things to heart even if he tries to make it look like he's invulnerable to every cutting remark cast his way.

"Before my time is through I... should like to be a better man." He doesn't need the validation - he would just... know. And he knows he's not there yet.

Malcolm watches him quietly while he talks, considering that.

"Why have you... not chosen to be in the past? And what makes you choose that now?"

"I didn't know. I was- just some asshole who was really good with a six shooter. But I thought I would die sicker and quicker than my mother did, get thrown in a ditch somewhere, alone and forgotten. Didn't leave anyone behind. Didn't matter if I wasn't a good man."

He's raised his discomfort with his legacy before, more with Raylan than with Malcolm.

"I thought I was dealt a shitty hand, and I was entitled to be a little selfish. Things are different now."

"So you started looking for redemption before you came here," he realized. "...Was it when you got out of the well?"

He's never questioned himself that deeply so he doesn't immediately know the answer to that. He liked it at first, truth be told. Liked having a reputation that endured past his lifetime, being known as what they would call these days 'a badass'. But while it's still a nice sentiment, he thinks he can be both 'a badass' and a half-decent man. They are not mutually exclusive options.

"All I wanted to do when I got out was to kill the witch. Once she was taken care of I figured. Had some time on my hands now to do other things."

"That makes sense," Malcolm observed. "Especially since most people don't get to see how their legacy plays out on Wikipedia," he acknowledged.

"Ugh. Don't look me up." Doc says with a chuckle, moving to grab both their teas and bringing it in front of them. Is he actually shy about it? He perhaps doesn't care, if it was anyone else telling him what they think of him, or the kind of man he ought to be. He would take that with a grain of salt. But he cares what Raylan and Malcolm think about him.

"You don't think it's... terrible? Being some kind of... famous killer." Not that that's the only thing he is famous for, but. It doesn't boil down to much else. "I imagine you have some strong feelings about that." And not entirely pleasant ones.

Edited 2021-02-06 06:19 (UTC)

Malcolm couldn't help a laugh at that, at the phrasing that put Doc under the same category as a Martin Whitly.

"I do," he conceded. "But... what you did wasn't... murder. You killed out of necessity, to protect yourself or others. The world you did it in was a relentlessly violent place. My mentor, Gil, has killed people in the line of duty. He's a police officer. You're more like him. You're not... My father is a famous murderer. He killed people for fun, Doc. I can't picture you killing a man for kicks."

Oh he could picture himself getting great pleasure out of killing Negan, but Doc's just going to be polite about it and forgo mentioning that. From where he's standing it all sounds like semantics to him. All different ways of dressing up blood on your hands but blood is blood. It stains just the same.

"I just hope I can live up to your expectations," he muses quietly before taking a sip of tea. Malcolm is right, it doesn't really suit him, but he's content with the hot drink nonetheless.

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