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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▶ day 28, the fog: bottled appetites

[ the fog posed many secrets, it would seem, and inspired quite a lot of inner turmoil.

only fair, she supposed, considering it had a proclaimed penchant for lethality. but, that also meant - there was no way of knowing what the hell it was. not really. it left for base speculation - and yennefer wasn't one to accept hearsay as unquestionable fact.

it wasn't that she didn't believe it could do what many said. she knew it could. she knew there were magics to command the elements against you. what mattered was how.

one will find yennefer at the edges of the fogs reach, carved out in a stark black coat amidst the milky white, not unlike a darkened, storm-promising sky.

more so, one will see her reach out towards it with an open palm, as another hand holds a bottle, fingers curling as she beckons. tendrils will curl away from that shifting wall, and reach towards her. ]

▶ day 28 or 29, back home: closed to ellie

[ yennefer had managed to scrape up enough herbs to start brewing ... something.

by the time ellie pokes back into the kitchen of their now shared residence, it will smell sharply and warmly of cinnamon. maybe a touch of ginger swirls under that, covered only by something that's more akin to burnt grass, languid tendrils of smoke stretching themselves out of a small pot she'd set on the counter. she chances a glance over to the girl as soon as she hears her. there is absolutely nothing weird going on here. ] Ellie.

[ maybe it's dumb to be out at all with the weather in mathias being as unpredictable as it is, but max had noticed the woman standing out by the edge of town where the fog blocks off views of the nothern edge of town. the fog seems to be remaining where it is, but max doesn't trust it to stay that way, and with the sky as dark as it already is she doesn't want the woman to get caught in the fog should it decide to start moving.

she moves quickly, calling out as she catches up to the woman. ]

Hey! You should get inside somewhere, it's not safe...

[ whatever else she has to say gets swallowed as she sees what yennefer is doing. she can't explain what she's seeing, but it looks like she's drawing the fog towards her, trying to trap it. ]

[ the voice, cutting through the needle-point stillness, the built-up electric static around yen snaps her attention away from the task at hand.

the fog dissipates from its controlled thread, slipping away from the bottle held aloft, and the slow pivot of yennefer's head suggests that she wasn't particularly thrilled at the interruption, however well-meaning it sounded. ]

[ lowly: ] A fine warning, repeated on every turn.

[ her hand twists the air again, chasing the fleeting, milky fog and forcing it back into shape. ] Fear is a fine way of control, don't you think?

[ she's close enough to have heard what she said without straining and it makes her frown a little - so others have warned her about the fog and its effects, and she's still out here risking herself? but she shakes her head, the temporary distraction of the woman's hands moving forgotten in lieu of what else she'd said. ]

People have died in this. I think that's a pretty adequate reason for fear.

[ Her hand curls into a fist, seeming to give the final push to force the wisps of fog inside the bottle before putting the cork in it.

there's a word said, quiet and authoritative, in an uncommon language, a seal placed to keep it closed. ] Sure.

People die from plenty of other things, too. [ she isn't callous on purpose. but she is tired, and angry and still sore from a fight still a touch too fresh. it only made her disposition worse, not better and if there is one thing about yennefer, it is that she is no longer a woman who shies away from something simply because she fears it. ] You're not at all curious about the how? The why?

[ max watches as her hands move, as the fog slips into the bottle like it's being vacuumed into it and sealed as the woman stops it with a cork. she mutters something afterwards in a tongue max doesn't recognize, and she speaks most languages fluently (one of manticore's earlier and easier lessons). she can realize when something's beyond her knowledge and when to defer to another's, but that doesn't stop her from being concerned for the woman. and curious about her. ]

You think you can figure it out? [ it's quiet, maybe a little admiring. no one else has been able to. ]

[ concern and curiosity seldom go hand in hand, in yennefer's experience.

perhaps its why max's display feels foreign. perhaps it's why it served to put her on the defensive until the next question comes.

her countenance doesn't soften, though the tension eases out of a her posture by simple fractions, and she tucks the bottle into her bag. away from sight and, perhaps, from more passing questions.

the sigh she lets out borders on tired. ] I have power enough to try. [ it isn't that she blames the rest for not being able to, but acceptance had never been an option here. ] Perhaps it will be enough.

I intend on learning what I can, either way.

[ not in max's experience, either. which is why it feels important to show the concern in cases like this. she watches as yennefer tucks the bottle away, listens as she explains her intentions. she's quiet for a moment or two before she voices another concern - or asks another question, as it were. ]

You haven't noticed any sort of limitations in what you can do here? [ she has, and she knows others have, too. ]

Yes - [ she sounds resentful of even having to admit to it, even as she slips her hands into her coat pockets, even as she slowly approaches the other woman for a more conversation distance. ] - and I intend to test those limits. And pay the price I have to, if it means getting anywhere.

[ yennefer was a woman of impossible ambition. even mathias was not enough to humble it. not yet. perhaps not even in the face of whatever coming horror. ] Have you had any abilities they've tried to smother, here? [ a fair question. she can't feel any magic, at least. ]

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revvedup - 2021-02-23 23:10 (UTC) - Expand

[ Ellie smells what she imagines is, you know, regular cooking before she actually makes her way into the kitchen. She hadn't really pegged Yen as someone who would cook. But she has this weird idea of Yennefer as someone glamorous who wouldn't need to cook or whatever. But...even magical people gotta eat, right? Ellie's not a great cook but she makes do when she makes herself eat anyway. (Henry has a habit of bringing her food because he's a worrier like that.)

But something about it doesn't smell like food when she gets closer, so she's a little skeptical. ]

Whatcha cooking?

[ No point making small talk when she's curious! ]

[ she turns her head away from the task at hand, mortar and pestle set aside from crushing black pepper.

a finger waved at the simmering cinnamon concoction in the pot. ] A willow bark salve, for healing. [ then she nods down at the powdered mixture beside her. ] And incense, for divination.

[ she returns to the motion, a quiet crunch of flakes in the stone dish. ] It's a poor excuse of what I can make with better ingredients, but it will have to be better than fuck-all.

I found seeds, in the greenhouse. I can only hope they'll be something usable.

Healing? I mean...I have bandages and pills and stuff, too.

[ Willow bark salve, what the hell. Ellie hasn't ever heard of anything like that. She's heard of some use of plants, sure; you learn to survive when there isn't the kind of medicine available that apparently existed before the infection. But there's some modern-ish stuff here, and she has a lucky stash from the clinic still. ]

Divination? What do you mean?

[ She's read that word in books. It's some magic thing, but she's not 100% sure of what it's meant for. ]

You do magic?

[ She should have guessed. Yen certainly has a sort of otherworldly quality about her. ]

Mm - salves aid in healing, and magic can seal a wound faster for it. [ the statement is rattled off automatically, as though reciting an old lesson.

to a point, she was. to a point, she would not get away from that training. more than that, she resents the necessity of going back to the basics. the sort aretuza shoved down their throats for years. ] And - yes. I'm a sorceress, Ellie. [ sorry its weird willow bark salves and not soup :( ]

Divination is - [ she stops stirring the pot, looking over to the girl with a thoughtful hum. ] - insight. It's seeing past the limits of what is in front of us. [ for the moment, she doesn't mention her telepathy. it was a skill lost upon her arrival, anyway. ]

Uh-huh.

[ Look, what else does one even say to something like that? Magic sealing a wound? Sounds too good to be true to Ellie. As it is, it's only now after weeks that the wound in her shoulder from that arrow is really healed up, all her deep bruises gone. ]

Sorceress? Well that sounds a lot fucking cooler than witch.

[ She jokes because it's how she copes with weird shit, and Mathias is full of that. ]

Like...finding things you can't see just looking normally? Light using a candle in the dark or something?

[ there is so much more to be said about magic. or perhaps nothing else at all.

there's limits to all of it, and even more so upon her being here. but yennefer smiles, a quiet laugh ringing out in response. ] Does it, now? My kind had always been pretentiously proud over that distinction.

[ the brew looks sufficiently dissolved. She still doubts its potency, even as she holds a hand over it, open palmed. It isn't a showy enchantment, but one all the same. ] Yes - or, like holding up a mirror to the world, with colours only you can see.

It's hardly a precise answer. But I may be able to see beyond what the fog hides.

We don't have magic where I'm from. So...I don't know, witch gets you this kind of jokey Halloween vibe.

[ She has no idea if Yen knows what Halloween is, but that's not really the point. ]

Sorceress sounds, like...dangerous.

[ Or maybe Ellie just reads too many comic books and things like that. Still, her admiration isn't feigned. ]

You think this divination thing might help you see if there's something out there? Like...hiding, or beyond the town?

▶ day 29 : closed to doc

if she were being honest, she almost forgot about the dress. she'll blame it on being preoccupied, much of her time spent within the ruined greenhouse, picking away at what she could salvage before the frost completely took it. a collection of seeds, and supplies enough to care for them and she can only hope there's some marigolds in there.

if not that, then scouring enough of the houses to get a passable collection of spices. it left much to be desired, of course, but better than nothing.

so, sufficed to say, it wasn't her first priority, and neither did he seem like he was in a rush for her to retrieve it from their last meeting. still, she finally tracks along next door, sometime between the end of the town hall, and before the night is done, and tries to ignore the creeping feelings that's clung to her - and seemingly everyone else - for most of the passing days.

she knocks twice.

Doc was not in the best mood, having drunk far too much the night before, but by the time she comes by he's more human again, and the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips reaches his eyes as he opens the door and finds her standing outside.

"Miss Yennefer. Come in." He takes a couple of steps backwards, gesturing with an arm spread. She had picked a good, quiet time to visit.

"Did you learn something new from the town hall meeting?" Many pearls of wisdom were dispensed, rather liberally.

"Henry," Her own smile curls the edges of her lips by way of greeting. She's far more collected now, than at their first meeting, where the shroud of disorientation still clung heavy and the still-raw memories of a hopeless battle rang in her ears, pulled at her burning side. While several days wasn't long enough to shake any of it, there was nothing about her that implied wallowing. No one will have the satisfaction of seeing the fraying edges. Not again.

Everything is once again, refined in ways that is too much of a habit to change. Raven hair is a smooth tumble of waves, the black coat Doc had given her from their first meeting tailored and cinched. "A long night?" It isn't (just) that he looks a touch more tired, but maybe it was also that she's heard a clamor in passing by their house to get to hers, a day spent in the greenhouse, or slipping the fog into a bottle.

"It's a surprise, to simply be handed information out like that," it isn't a criticism. "I suppose there's little benefit in withholding, though it's rare that that's the mindset of the majority."

"We had guests. There were libations." And confessions. And... other shenanigans. He doesn't think he needs to say much more than that for her to get the picture of what might have transpired in the house last night. But it looks all cleaned up when she enters, the same way as it had been when she first visited.

"It is easy to get caught up in the details of what we are doing in our own houses amongst our own acquaintances. Sometimes what people need is a little nudge." And today they did receive such a nudge.

"I hope this is a social call and you are recovering well. I must say you look... quite magnificent, in that coat." And he doesn't see any holes or bloodstains on it so he's hoping she isn't going to show him a gaping wound from a stray javelin or some such similar injury.

He really doesn’t need to say much else on that, no, even if traces of last night are nowhere to be seen, everything back in their same, neat place; an attention to cleanliness that someone like Yen can appreciate, at the very least.

He’ll find her a touch more receptive to the passing complement, a small tug of satisfaction in the lift of her chin, the narrowing of her eyes. “Social, unless you’ve a hidden business proposition to discuss.”

“I’ve healed well," past tense, notably. "Your threadwork laid a fine foundation,” Still more of a lingering scar than she’d like and perhaps with a few more passes of magic, it will be entirely gone. But beneath all that had lied the fear of the lack of effectiveness - she'd been warned, in no short terms, of the limitations others have had. And stubbornness alone may not be enough to surpass them.

“A small nudge, else everyone grows too complacent with the mild comforts?” Maybe a little bit harsh of a statement, nose scrunched up before she pushes out a sigh. The fatalism was a bit too second nature. “I’m afraid it usually takes more than that."

"Not yet, but. That might change once we start bartering and charging for things," he muses with a mischievous little smile. He is very much a man of leisure and pleasure, pursuing happiness anywhere he can find it, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to mix such whimsical hedonism with business.

"That is kind of you to say, thank you." He will impress her with his threadwork yet, once he ventures upstairs to bring her dress down and give it back to her.

"Most people have already grown complacent. A roof over our heads, some food and pleasant company. There is little more we could ask for." Doc, too, is guilty of settling for less. He doesn't think that looking for a way out and making life comfortable here are two mutually exclusive options. But he does concede that more time spent on one means less time can be spent on the other.

"It bothers you, these... table scraps. Though I can't imagine it would be much better if we had nothing and had to fend for ourselves." Even though they might be more inclined to attempt escape, bolder or... perhaps more reckless, they would be less willing to share resources and information and common courtesy then. And only a handful of them would survive. Banding together seems more preferable to him, even if he would stand to benefit from being on his own and playing for keeps.

“Well, until you start charging for your time,” is the wry smile of a reply. “I’d like to infringe on it freely.”

Yennefer can’t say she’s unfamiliar with the approach of complacency. How long had she lived the cushy courtly life until it all went to shit? Glorified royal arse-wiper, all for the elegance and prestige?

Maybe she would think differently, maybe she would agree, were her cold comforts ever fulfilling. “Of course it bothers me,” she scoffs, venturing further into the house, to lean against the sofa’s backrest.

“Whoever is responsible - they’re playing smart,” she sounds more begrudging than praising. “Fear is a hell of powerful way to control someone, don’t you think? As is dependency,” something she knows a little too well. “Space out the fucking pain, the losses and the nightmares so that when we are handled these table scraps, as you astutely define them, we think it’s enough. Nevermind the base fear of the unknown, which they let fester by hiding away behind their wall of fog.” That was her takeaway, anyway.

She won’t disagree with the strength of numbers, no. Hell, maybe she doesn’t know what the solution is any more than the rest of the people spilling their thoughts out in the Town Hall. And no, no one would turn down easy comforts, not even her, for all the resentment. But she’s still too freshly arrived, too new and unsettled. Yennefer has never reacted well to limits, after all. “Or am I being unreasonable?” Do share that thought, Doc.

Honestly? Doc has taken his time drawing this conclusion that someone is responsible for orchestrating all this. It would make sense, given how there seems to be some planning, some rules involved. But he can't fathom who would quite have this kind of power. His mind immediately entertains the thought of demons and witches and the like, but they are always explicit with what they want. Here they have been given no direction.

Right now he can't even be sure if he's been put under in a deep sleep and is just still in Shorty's while said demons and witches busy themselves picking over the town. So yes, it has been a while before he's come around to being willing to entertain this notion of a guiding hand, towards... whatever goal it is they have in mind.

Fear and dependency are two things that cut him deep, and two things he will need time to grapple with internally before giving them any voice.

"You are not unreasonable, but you do seem... agitated. Can I make you some tea?" he offers. Maybe it is not the profound response she is looking for, but men who wear cowboy hats do things differently. They operate on their own time. He thinks she would understand that too, as someone who has, like him, lived too long and experienced too much shit.

028-029 » the winds of change

yennefer | the witcher

day 28 - open and closed

the fog

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day 29

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day 29 - closed

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