villagelogs | 028-029 » the winds of change

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028-029 » the winds of change

WHO: Everyone.
WHERE: Eastern/Central Mathias.
WHEN: Days 028-029
WHAT: A town meeting is called.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. PM this account to have a warning added!
NOTES: Plotting post over here!

RECOMMENDED ♫ Deadly Avenger "Ikiryo"

DAY 028
SOMETHING ON THE WIND
Another day dawns in the fair town of Mathias. The sky is a blanket of light grey, tiny specks of snow lightly falling as the hours pass. It makes the town feel almost quaint, the scenery quite peaceful in its winter garb. But beneath the veneer of peace there is a pervasive dread of something approaching. Something inevitable is on the wind, something that has come before and will come again...

Throughout the day, residents will consistently experience feelings of deja vu, that sense of having done or seen or said something before that can never be fully recalled. It happens again and again, tugging at the back of their minds, the memories just frustratingly out of reach.

Residents will also notice a note pinned around town:

The note can be found on the town hall's bulletin board and the front doors of many town establishments, including the Grey Gull, the library, and the boarding house. At the bottom of the note it is specified that the meeting will take place "tomorrow, when the sun is over the town square."

NEW ARRIVALs
The newest arrivals to Mathias will wake on the frozen lawn of the town hall atop a snowdrift. They had best hurry inside and get warmed up before hypothermia sets in.

DAY 029
A GATHERING OF MINDS
In the late afternoon when the sun hangs over the town square, residents will converge upon the Town Hall, where a larger meeting room has been filled with rows of chairs. After most people arrive, John Constantine stands and addresses the room... and then sits again. A grand introduction, truly.

Residents are encouraged to share their experiences and information they have gathered in the town while holding questions until the end. Rather than getting tangled in the intricacies of each person's tale, it seems better to absorb the broad strokes and try to connect the puzzle pieces to get a look at the bigger picture that is the mystery of Mathias Township.

THE INEVITABLE
As the meeting comes to an end and residents begin to converse among themselves, the feeling of something approaching and sense of deja vu begin to build, becoming almost oppressive as night falls. An hour after nightfall, residents learn the reason for these sensations that cease immediately as the earth begins to rumble. The buildings shake, furniture tumbles, and breakables crash to the floor as the earthquake sets in without warning.

The tremors last around a minute, far longer than a normal earthquake, and then the town settles again. There are no aftershocks, which many may note is quite unusual. Residents will find quite a bit of mess in their homes and other locations around town, but there is no structural damage to be found despite the intense shaking.

CONDITIONS UPDATE
— THE WEATHER is fairly typical of a northern winter. The sky is grey, the temperature hovers just below freezing during the day (colder at night), and a light snow falls during both days. Residents should bundle up when going outside and not venture too far into the dark night...

— 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 with Sherlock Holmes being the latest victim of the town's unsettling whims.

OOC NOTES
— TOWN MEETING STRUCTURE The town meeting section of the log is designed for characters to share any information they would like to with the other residents in attendance. ICly, characters should "hold questions until the end" with the intent that they can get the Big Picture first and connect any dots they see. OOCly, this means players should post their character's information sharing tag in the Meeting section, but the actual conversation about whatever they share happens after the meeting proper in the Mingle section. That way, these conversations can happen however players prefer, be that one-on-one or in small or large groups.

— HOUSING Please be sure your character's housing arrangements are up to date on our list. We're missing a few people and it really helps to know where everyone is for planning. Frequent updates for wandering characters are perfectly acceptable.

— THE BULLETIN BOARD has been updated. Players should note there is a change to the wall near the board that may be of great interest to some residents.

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( After making his rounds, Dean takes a seat back behind Castiel. There's something about him there in his sunglasses, feeling that bad halfway through the next day after he had Claire time, that makes Dean smile. The only way he can describe how he feels is, love. He loves that hungover son of a Chuck. And, he's not wasted off his ass himself, so he's not running away from it. Nor is he moving in for another kiss. Naming that feeling? It's pretty powerful.

He smiles behind him, hands squeezing his shoulders as he leans in encouragingly. )

Some moderate. Others hydrate.

( He has a brief thought about how much is left. Was it moonshine or wine? That wine took a week to ferment. But, his amusement wins out. )

Nice look. Very eighties.

( There is a part of him that wonders if he caused this. If his inability to communicate drove Cas to drink with Claire. And drink enough to need sunglasses. Is this his fault? He needs time. How much time is enough. What would he want to say? He doesn't know the answer to any questions, right now. Personal or town-related. He is doing pretty great at failing. )

[Castiel grumbles, but he also can't deny that Dean's hands squeezing his shoulders feels like a sliver of divinity, in spite of the way the rest of him aches all over. He definitely recognizes his own words being used against him, which, he supposes, is only fair.

Still, that acknowledgment doesn't stop him from instinctively raising his right hand, forming it into the universal, human gesture for 'fuck off' in Dean's general direction.] You know me. A style icon.

[His voice is as rough as the rest of him, and Castiel hates how worn out he sounds. He supposes this is the price he pays for indulging.] Do hangovers ever get any less awful? How do you deal with them?

( Dean's hands aren't that magic, Cas. They're in public. Also, how much do you wish for the motel magic fingers right now? Or would that make the hangover worse. Asking for a friend.

And an emphatic, physical reaction. )

Who are you, and what did you do with Castiel, bird-flipper?

( He's amused, though, the smile remaining as he sits back. He can't just stay there, hands on his shoulders indefinitely. It's not natural. But, he - wanted to? Yeah, he doesn't know.

Newsflash, Castiel. That voice always sounds rough. You're an angel of gravel. )

They get worse the older you get. You're - over a billion? Must be killer, killer.

( He grins, fighting back a laugh before shaking his head. )

Should've told me sooner and I would've whipped you up a plate of grease on grease. Slap a gatorade in that hand.

[Castiel allows himself the self-indulgent pleasure of smirking at Dean's question, though that quickly turns into a wince as another burst of pain shoots right through him, from right above his left eyebrow all the way to his stomach.] Castiel can't come to the phone right now. He's currently trying to pass as sober and functioning.

[He lets out a sigh. Clearly, Dean is enjoying himself at the expense of Castiel's misery.] I'm glad my hangover is so amusing to you. I'm so glad you're getting something out of this pounding headache.

You're never letting me forget the gatorade are you?

Currently failing.

( If he needed a grade for it. )

Cas, lighten up. It'll subside. If not in an hour, by 5. ( PM. ) And no. Your Gatorade tip? One for the books.

( He smirks, resting his hands behind his head. If this is the worst Cas will go through with less grace, then he'll be fine. He'll suffer. Temporarily. )

[Castiel sighs again, but it's a bit exaggerated to carefully attuned ears. As miserable as he is physically, Dean is talking and joking with him, and that does a lot to put Castiel at ease, even if he still worries about the distinct possibility of losing his last meal all over his own shoes.] You'll have to teach me your ways then, given that you seem to be an expert in this particular art form.

[He doesn't need to be looking at Dean to be able to hear the smirk in his voice. He shakes his head and then immediately regrets it when his head pounds again.] I tried curing this hangover with my Grace this morning. I suspect being hungover hindered it from working, if you need cause to laugh at me further.

Cas, I haven't had a hangover in I don't know how long.

( He's high functioning. And the worst of it comes before he starts drinking again. He glances around them, to see if either of the good doctors are watching before revealing the flask he keeps in his borrowed coat. He sets it down on the desk in front of Castiel.

He doesn't laugh at that. )

I thought self-healing, it just comes naturally. ( Guess not. ) Try hair of the dog. It should at least subside the queasiness I'll pretend I don't notice.

Yes well. I don't know what is about this place but my Grace doesn't always function as it should. It's extremely annoying.

[Castiel arches an eyebrow at the appearance of Dean's flask, turning his head slightly to nod his head in thanks and acknowledgement. And here he thought he was being subtle about his nausea. Apparently not.] Thank you. Well, here goes.

[Castiel twists open the top of the flask, bringing it up to his mouth. He takes a slow, careful sip; he finds himself pleasantly surprised when he feels his stomach settling after just that one drink.] I thought the hair of the dog was just a thing in books and movies, but that actually works.

[He turns back to Dean, offering him the flask back.] Thank you, Dean. That's helped a great deal.

( He's said. Dean keeps track. He pays attention. He... ~~tells on him to Claire~~ keeps the others informed. He rarely forgets Cas isn't at full strength. He goes places alone because, because he's independent and Cas is half-up. And Claire... is still Claire. Like he doesn't think she goes and does her own thing day to day. If he tried to police her, or Cas, this wouldn't work. )

Keep it. I got doctor's eyes on me right now. That guy Carter from the model home. Pretty sure he thinks I have a problem with alcohol.

( That's some fast acting hair of the dog, Cas. )

[Castiel thinks he manages great restraint by not immediately pointing out that this Carter from the model home has a point regarding Dean and alcohol, especially when combating his own hangover. But Carter's not wrong, Castiel thinks.

He hums instead of talking, sipping again from Dean's flask. He may or may not clasp the flask more tightly because it belongs to Dean, in the mean time.]

Did he tell you this outright?

[Castiel's way of stalling. He dearly wants to agree with Carter, but he also doesn't feel like starting an argument with Dean, either.]

Sat me down in the living room. Checked my vitals. Gave me puppy dog eyes.

( So, yes. Technically. Without telling him that. He implied it, Cas. )

He sounds like a good man.

[That is what Castiel allows himself, a subtle means of agreeing with this Carter. He's glad other people are showing concern for Dean, especially in regards to his consumption of alcohol.

Which, Castiel realizes, makes him look like a right hypocrite right about now, given that he's currently nursing Dean's flask.

He sighs, before deciding to check in on Dean regarding what he feels is a safer topic of conversation.] How are you holding up, Dean? With Sam being here and all?

How do you think I'm holding up? I'm great, Cas. Band's back together. Jack's God. Claire's not off somewhere or off world trying to find Kaia - we still haven't cleared just when she's from. ( He says that as he looks back at her across the room, before turning back to Castiel. ) This place isn't exactly Azazel's demon kid ghost town, or any other town we've been to. If anybody can figure it out, it's Sammy.

( Knowing he's fine. That's everything. )

Threw him for a loop, though. He thought world raiding was off the table. Or, it would at least take a backseat. You think there's something out here that's more powerful than Chuck? Or, because Chuck is powerless did something vacuum us up?

[Dean sounds so genuinely happy because of Sam's presence, Castiel can't help but feel happy for him on top of his own gladness for Sam being with them all again. He can ignore the symptoms of his hangover in favor of concentrating on the good of 'getting the band back together,' as Dean would say.]

It's good to see Sam again. I only wish we could have Eileen with us, as well. And Jack, but, of course, he's a little busy these days.

[Castiel smiles, his pride for Jack shining through his expression, even behind his sunglasses.

At Dean's questions, Castiel's expression contorts into one of concentration as he considers these possibilities.]

I think the universe as a whole is bigger than we, and Chuck, even, could imagine it. I believe there are forces beyond even God's control, and that some of those forces are at play here in this town.

I was rooting for those crazy kids.

( He applauded his sex life. It wasn't just Sam getting some, it was how Eileen looked at him. How he looked at Eileen. How broken he was when Eileen disappeared. It wasn't just people who shouldn't have been alive, like Dean had thought. It ended up being everybody but them. With Sam having confirmed Cas' side of things... Well, it's good to know they might not be from separate worlds, themselves. Especially because Chuck had ended the others. )

Multiple, you think? Cause, this screams of one big Cthulu, you know?

I was too. They seemed genuinely happy together.

[And hopefully still are, Castiel thinks. He believes he is still the only one among them from the furthest point in time; he carries the weight of Dean's death with him, an invisible anchor that feels as off-kilter as his Grace. He doesn't know how to approach Dean with such knowledge, if he even should.

But he can at least enjoy seeing Dean happy having his brother here.

At Dean's observation, Castiel nods.]

I have to admit, I've always been curious about this Chutlu. Why does he need so many tentacles?

I -

( ... )

That's how he was made. His mating parents? ( He doesn't know. ) Maybe it's the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Or, Slenderman.

This Cthulhu, he is some type of deity, no? Does he even have parents? Or was his creator drunk when designing him?

[Castiel has so many questions, none of them remotely helpful or useful. This is what happens when Metatron suddenly gifts you a heaping ton of pop culture without any context.

He wrinkles his nose at the mention of Slenderman.]

And you believe this Cthulhu, he is possibly behind this town and what goes on here?

He's fiction.

( Cas...C'mon. )

But, you tell me if any tentacled horror shows climb up from the depths.

Scooby Doo is fiction, and yet we still wound up in that world to solve a case, regardless. Oz is also supposed to be fiction, and yet, it's also a real place. Or, it was. I assume Chuck destroyed it when he was throwing away the rest of his little worlds.

[A combination of his hangover and his own restlessness at being stuck here encourages Castiel to argue with Dean. (And it gives him something to focus on that isn't reliving that night over and over again.)

It wouldn't be the strangest thing, Castiel thinks, if some being that's not supposed to be real could possibly be behind all of this. They've dealt with this kind of strange before.]

If an angry octopus climbs out of the water to destroy us, you'll be the first to know.

( Shit. You have him there. )

You think it'll be like those Godzilla's. One of us standing on the shore, pointing. "Godrilla!" ( That only makes him laugh. He stops smiling. ) Too far. Racist. ( He nods. ) So, say Lovecraft's real. Was real. Like that HBO show. Cthulu's worshipped. So is Slenderman. Those grade schoolers stabbed their friend. Raylan and I, we think something was worshipped. Does this town say cult to you?

[Castiel sighs; behind his sunglasses, he rolls his eyes. Of course Dean would find the possibility of some gargantuan monster being behind all of this amusing; he would.

But then he starts mentioning cults, and the idea of something being worshipped, and that does catch Castiel's interest.]

The location of this town seems ideal for a cult, now that you mention it. Cut off, isolated. And it seems to have only housed a small population, if the size of the school house is any indication. I would say a cult is a good bet here, probably a cult worshipping some deity or other.

If not deity, something ancient. Something powerful. Also, something that doesn't do anything. It's like all this wants is us to spin our wheels.

Yes, but perhaps it gains something from us spinning our wheels. Perhaps all of us trapped here, trying to get out, generates a kind of energy or power this being needs to grow stronger. I still think we're being used for some sort of purpose, somehow. I was discussing this with Constantine, actually.

Maybe it's taking our energy. You have less grace. You tire easier. You're slipping in the shower.

( He doesn't want to think about it, that Cas... might be a food source. That they all might be. )

What's Constantine's big idea?

(no subject)

aprofoundbond - 2021-02-07 15:33 (UTC) - Expand

wrap!

cholesterol - 2021-02-08 06:51 (UTC) - Expand

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