028-029 » the winds of change

[villagemod]

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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Malcolm Bright | Prodigal Son

[abrightboy]

Plotting Post

Day 28 - Daytime OTA

[abrightboy]

Catch Malcolm in town or find him at home at 1306.

Late Night Day 28 - Closed to Raylan Givens

[abrightboy]

Malcolm slid one hand into his homemade restraints, which had been the focus of entirely too much attention at dinner - but all in good fun, he supposed - and then the other. He wasn't sure if he was expecting Doc or Raylan. He'd had both the night before; he wasn't sure how that affected the arrangement they had.

He'd been concerned Raylan would be in some way displeased with him, but he was perfectly pleasant all day. Even protective, at dinner.

He scooted down in bed, pulling up the blanket and letting his head settle into the pillows. Rolling to the side, he looked down at the empty mattress on the floor. It would be nicer, he thought, someone sleeping in here with him.

[tinstar]

It had been a busy night and while Raylan had gotten drunk, somehow, out of the drinkers, it seemed he was the least drunk of the lot. He didn't know what triggered Doc's attempt to drown by moonshine the last half of the night, but he'd made sure the good Doctor was settled into the couch where he'd fallen and even sat with him for a few minutes, which felt more like hours, drifting in and out of his concern that he was going to wake up to puke.

But however long it was, finally, it was long enough that Raylan could push to his feet and cover Doc up with the blanket they kept on the couch before making his way up the stairs as quietly as he could. It wasn't as quiet as he'd like, but at least he wasn't clopping.

With only his jacket for a blanket, hooked over his shoulder, Raylan stopped in front of Malcolm's door and stood there a long moment, replaying everything over in his head and hoping that maybe Malcolm was already asleep. He turned the knob silently and cracked the door open to look in. Malcolm's form was still and steady, so he slipped in and shut the door behind him.

If he could just get over to the mattress on the floor...

Evening - Day 28 - CLOSED TO 1306 RESIDENTS AND THE HARGREEVES BROTHERS

[abrightboy]

Malcolm didn't remember whose idea it was to invite the Hargreeves to dinner, but he did scour the town for nice place settings earlier that day, dropping off some less fancy but functional and not broken dishes anonymously on the porch of the Boarding House, just in case they were still short.

He knew how to set a formal dinner table. It was his whole upbringing. Even though he'd never cared for dinner parties when his mother threw them, it seemed like such a Normal thing to do, that he was excited about the idea of them having one and he threw himself into it with gusto, helping Neal in the kitchen, helping clean up, helping anywhere he could. It kept his mind and hands occupied, too.

They were putting the finishing touches together while they waited for their guests to arrive.

[bestfuneralever]

I. Early evening
As with most things that happen in this town, Klaus is here at the behest of someone else. Five? Doc? Did it even matter? He was here, and that was what mattered, after all. He breezes through the hello's with everyone and settles into chatter with anyone who wants it pretty-well instantly.

He'll be staying out of the kitchen, however-- he doesn't have the best track record with them. Mom had to put out more than one fire of his back in their Academy days. Klaus figures, in a town as limited as this, it's their best bet to not try and repeat those childhood memories.

II. Mid-evening
At some point, mid-way through dinner, Klaus excuses himself and disappears for a moment. He's actually just intent on finding the restroom, but-- well. He took a wrong turn down the hallway and ended up in....this... room. He glances around and curiosity will definitely kill this cat someday, because he pushes further into the room the investigate the interesting, homemade restraint system. He holds one of the straps up and inspects it for a moment, nodding a little. Impressive, honestly, and just with whatever was lying around the house.

He eventually winds his way back downstairs to where the rest of the party is still chattering over good food and maybe a drink or two. Let it be said that there is nothing subtle about Klaus Hargreeves. He swans back into the room and sits back at his seat at the table. "Took a wrong turn upstairs-- who's sex dungeon? Impressive restraint system, looks pretty stable." he takes a sip of his drink, glancing around the table at the others. Someone had to fess up! His bet was on Negan, truth be told.

III. Post-dinner mingles
Accidental trauma-reveal at the dinner table aside (for which he profusely apologized to Malcolm about, like a dozen times before the night was over), the night was pretty much a success. He'll help with the dishes, since he didn't do any of the cooking, standing idle by the sink as he waits for it to fill up with water.

When that's done, he'll wind his way into whatever room the party's moved into and lounge across any empty seat (or someone's lap as long as it's not Five, he's not shy and holds not a single ounce of shame in his body) and join whatever conversations happen to be circulating now.

III

[thering]

After Klaus almost killed Doc with the sex dungeon talk - he's not a prude but where he normally can cover for Malcolm's... occasional outbursts, it was impossible not to address that question directly - he had three glasses of moonshine in quick succession and the rest of the night kind of just rolled on by like a rug slowly and gradually being pulled from under them.

"Young man," he addresses as he adjusts his hat, legs spread wide to keep Klaus from hitting the floor although it leaves him vulnerable to getting his family jewels robbed. "There is a perfectly good empty seat over there." And yet Doc isn't in a hurry to shove him off. He barely fidgets, shifting only to accommodate Klaus's weight.

He has barely seen Klaus since he discovered Five's body. They have certainly not talked about their little heart-to-heart. It... is good to see him in such good spirits now. And Doc is already on his second bottle of moonshine so he gives no fucks about playing a game of gay chicken he knows he cannot win.

"I've nothing to tip you with for your lapdance."

II

[abrightboy]

Malcolm was working slowly through his exceptionally small serving of food, glancing up as Klaus returned to the table, but just turning his attention back to his plate when the question was asked.

Knife and fork stilled.

“Restraint system?” His brow creased faintly. “That’s... not a sex dungeon,” he said, glancing around to see if anyone was paying attention.

III

[vampirebats]

Alright, he's gotta admit, the whole sex dungeon nearly made him piss his pants with laughter -- even if he did feel for Malcolm. Klaus seemed genuinely sorry for it, so he's at least got enough tact to let it go when he gets a lapful. There's a throaty laugh as he moves to settle an arm around Klaus' waist to keep him steady.

"Well, hey there." He gives an easy grin. "You enjoying yourself?"

[tinstar]

This was the second 'party' their house had hosted and he didn't know which one of the men he lived with to blame first, but once he knew who was coming and that it wasn't, in fact, the whole goddamned town, he calmed down and helped get to work. Well, not much more work than making sure there weren't any errant bottles in the living room.

Kitchen, before dinner

Not being the type to rush to the door and play host, Raylan would leave that to Malcolm, opting instead to linginer in the doorframe of the kitchen for a little while, watching the food get made and listening to the passing conversation. Eventually, he got himself a drink and found someone standing alone to meander up to, bottle in hand.

"Someone pour you somethin' yet? Not like we're dealin' with top shelf here but.. Impolite to not offer, party and all." It didn't matter if the person lived there - Parties were meant to be had with drinks in hand.

Dinner

Hearing dinner being called was more than enough to draw Raylan out of whatever conversation he was having, happy to continue it as they all settled down at the table. If he looked real close, it might look like a celebration. Even if that was just a celebration of them surviving this long, he'd take it. There was something reassuring about sitting with people around a table. It'd been too long since he had.

He would be easy to ply into conversations, happy to argue over baseball or what book overlap there was, guns or runnin' money, or the fine art of ripping copper pipes from walls. He missed good general conversation like this and the amount he ate reflected it. The man had to have a hollow leg.

Post dinner
Fat, happy and with a fresh pot of post dinner coffee brewed, Raylan followed the crowd into the livingroom and found a chair to sit in, one legs skewed widely. He was on his fourth drink so far, but he was sure no one noticed and if they did, he was sure they didn't care. Welcome to being in his home.

"That was fantastic Neal, thank you. I'm glad someone here can cook because we probably shouldn't be surviving on eggs and bacon alone."

post-dinner

[conning]

Neal waved off the praise, pleased with it but embarrassed at the same time. "It was nice to focus on something productive. But you're right, eggs and bacon do not a complete diet make."

He was several drinks deep himself, at this point, pleasantly warm and at ease.

"I'm just glad I could pull something together with the stuff available here."

before dinner

[bestfuneralever]

Klaus winds his way into the kitchen shortly after arriving to the Cowboy House, already greeted by someone when he did. He's more than glad to find Raylan, ever-hospitable and already offering to hand out drinks. "Oooh, don't mind if I do." He practically sings his words as he takes the offered drink in hand and takes a careful sip of it.

[vampirebats]

Negan can't remember the last time he'd had a proper dinner party. Sure, he's shared dinner, even made it for others before back home... but this feels different. A lot more proper, for a start. Not really a casual spaghetti kinda thing.

And Negan finds himself feeling a little concerningly... normal during it. He's ditched the leather coat and white t-shirt for something a little bit nicer that he'd found around, he sits at the table and mingles and talks up a storm like he always does. It's not natural anymore. He's not Negan with the steel nutsack and Lucille for a moment, he's just a guy. That might be the hardest to swallow about all this. He doesn't have his people, his power, or ability to do shit to keep people safe.

He isn't having to bash in heads or burn off faces to make a point. He doesn't have to, or hasn't yet.

If he falls quiet or thoughtful once or twice during dinner, well... he hopes no one really notices or calls him on it.

post dinner
Negan settles himself into the living room with everyone else once dinner is over, although he makes it a point to thank Neal for the food. He's a little more relaxed now that dinner's over, a little more capable of pushing unwanted thoughts away.

Instead, he might just be in the mood to regale everyone with a story or two... safer stories, of course. He doesn't want to horrify people with the head splattering shit, strangely enough. There are enough stories about pillaging for food and the weird shit people decided to loot up for the end times. Hell, there are even some funny stories he remembers from back when he used to be a coach. He had a lot of angry parents come to him about his mouth, or the time a kid tried nut tapping his fucking dad because Negan might have been advising the kid how to deal with someone giving him shit. How the hell was he supposed to know, right?

post dinner

[abrightboy]

Malcolm dropped into a seat by Negan partway through the evening. He didn't drink heavily; he was trying to stick to other coping mechanisms. He was pretty sure he was the least drunk person in the room. That was pretty normal for him.

"Hey."

[thering]

Doc is about a bottle and a half of moonshine into the night. Admittedly despite being the one to invite Five and Klaus over for dinner, Doc didn't get very involved in the prep work. The New Yorkers had insisted that dinner was going to be something a little special and that relegated Doc to doing the cleanup afterwards, a role he naturally fell into since he contributed nothing to preparing.

He ended up doing more cleanup than just the dishes and wiping the table down afterwards, having probing conversations with various gentlemen, trying to patch things up and be supportive, which had him hitting the bottle a little hard in those rare moments he was alone in the bustling house.

Doc nearly slams the bathroom door in Negan's face when it opens. He's about to take a leak, already pulled out of his pants, and he doesn't want to make conversation while he's doing it, even if Negan's just 'there to wash his hands'.

"Can you give a man a minute? Jesus Christ."

post dinner

[tinstar]

Raylan and his half drank bottle of moonshine had been wandering around the house til after dinner, where he found and dropped himself into a chair nearby Negan. He still hadn't talked a lot with the man, despite him now living here - this seemed like a good time.

"You enjoyin' yourself yet?"

Late night~

[bestfuneralever]

After letting himself into the wrong room the first time, when Klaus slips into the room, he hisses into the darkness, "Negan? You in here?" He is not about to have a repeat of what just happened with Neal, okay. He's gotta make sure he's in the right place this time before he goes crawling into bed with someone.

[conning]

I. Kitchen - Early Evening

He hadn't really slept. It started with insomnia. Tossing and turning in the dark. Thinking he heard voices. Each creak of wind against the house made him brace himself for the painful shriek of it. Some time after Malcolm had woken up, though, Neal had finally passed out. His dreams weren't any better than consciousness. Rey's stood in every corner his subconscious constructed, watching him with eyes frozen open in the cold. Then it wasn't just Rey. It was Daisy. Malcolm. Raylan, Doc. When Peter and Elizabeth joined the ranks of frozen dead, Neal had jerked awake and given up on unconsciousness.

Getting up and prepping the kitchen to cook had been a relief. He didn't know the people who'd been invited over, but that didn't change the cooking part of it. Seafood gumbo; caesar salad; grilled chicken breast topped with vinaigrette dressed peppers, red onions, tomatoes and mushrooms; chocolate bread pudding with raspberry reduction. Rosemary chicken for Malcolm. He lost himself in it, directing Malcolm, pulling together the ingredients he'd scrounged from the General Store and the Gull.

He was fine until he went to prep the celery for the gumbo. He paused with the knife above the cutting board. A bit of light reflected off the blade, and for a moment he would have sworn he saw Rey's face in the metal. He dropped it with a clatter, his hand trembling. Neal clenched his fingers, trying to hide the tremor, and took a deep breath.

He was fine. Everything was fine.


II. Dinner!!

Neal was impressed with the place settings Malcolm had managed to pull together. He could almost imagine this whole thing was normal, if he ignored the fact that the longest he'd known anyone sitting there was a week. With some of them, it felt like so much longer.

Of course, some of them he wasn't 100% sure about wanting to know. The whole sex dungeon thing triggered a protective twitch in Neal that he had to fight hard to keep from acting on. Making a thing of it wouldn't help anyone, particularly not Malcolm. It was harder to focus on conversation after that, and whenever his mind wandered, it wandered to places he really didn't want it to go.

He flinched when someone turned and spoke to him directly. "Sorry, what?"


II. Post-dinner mingling!!

Neal has had more moonshine than is strictly advisable, but he was pretty sure he wasn't the only one. He lounged in one of the living room chairs, content to listen to conversation more than participate. His mouth might have tasted like a trash compactor, but he was really relaxed for the first time tonight.

Too relaxed.

Because he was humming under his breath, then quietly singing New York State of Mind.

III

[thering]

Living with the cowboys, there are a few simple life rules that they wish to impart before their time together is through. One of them is that when it comes to moonshine there are no strictly advisable limits. Only suggestions.

He wanted to ask Neal what was wrong. He had noticed those little moments in the kitchen. Those telltale little fissures that signal an impending dangerous sort of crumbling. They try to be snowglobes here. Chaotic when they are shaken but always able to calm back down, given some time and some space left alone. Cracks in the globe, the occasional spillage, they are both troubling and troublesome.

Instead of broaching the topic during dinner, not wanting Neal to feel self-conscious seated in front of all these people, Doc waits until they're alone before leaning over and topping up his glass. If Doc starts approaching the delicate issue from the long way around and can stay sober long enough, he might be able to get there after three changes of topic.

"He sings, he cooks, he draws, he plays poker. Is there anything the great Neal Caffrey cannot do? You're making us all look bad."

I

[abrightboy]

Malcolm heard the knife clatter. It made him turn from folding napkins. Real concern didn’t cross his features until he saw Neal’s hand.

Do you think you can hide a psychogenic tremor from him? That was how he spent most of his days lately.

“Neal....” He stepped over and took the shaky hand between his. “What happened?”

mingling~

[bestfuneralever]

The strongest reaction about his comment at dinner seemed to come from Neal, even beyond Malcolm's own, but Klaus chalked it up to both, the fact that he and Neal had never met before this, and some sort of protective streak. The kind of thing he could easily imagine among any of his siblings in various combinations, were those shoes on the opposite feet. He didn't exactly take the matter to heart, and has had a drink or two since then anyway.

"I don't know what you put in the gumbo, but-- mmm! It was delicious." he comments, in a sort of off-hand way; the start of a conversation if he wishes, or easily brushed off if he doesn't. Klaus has no expectations, at this point.

Late night~

[bestfuneralever]

Five had passed out in one of the chairs somewhere and Klaus is too drunk to bother going home. Doc had welcomed them to crash if they wanted, and that seemed the best plan this late. Maybe he's too drunk to navigate the hallways. Maybe he's just clueless. Either way, he ends up slipping into the room he thinks (guesses) is Negan's. He doesn't say a word, only crawls into the bed and tries to snuggle up nice and warm.

- five (late to the party y'all)

[fika]

▶ dinner

---

When Klaus strolls back around with that wildly inappropriate question - which doesn’t exactly shock Five, even if his nose scrunches in a grimace, and he has to toss his head back with an exasperated sigh. He could swear this was like being back in the Umbrella Academy for all the consistency of Klaus’ character.

“For the record,” he deadpans to the closest person beside him. “I’m adopted. Wonder if it’s too late to reverse the process.”

He doesn’t mean it wholeheartedly, though it’s sometimes hard to tell.

---

▶ post dinner

---

Number Five finds himself skating along the periphery of the room well into the evening.

The food was delicious, to be sure - better than the marshmallow and peanut butter sandwiches that had become a bit of a staple, as its always been. Though, Five’s standards had admittedly fallen since his forty-five year stint in the apocalypse, surviving on roaches and expired twinkies.

And what a time to contemplate the normalcy of all of this, surrounded by a company of faces he’s come to recognize (for better or worse). How long has it been since he’s been to a goddamn dinner party? This seemed more like Klaus’ element - and one look in his brother’s direction confirmed that to be true. Maybe Allison’s, too. As he runs through the names and faces of the missing Hargreeves, it’s with a pang of concern, or guilt or both, until cutlery against a plate snaps him back.

Point was, Five may know how to be in a crowd, but he’s always been removed from it. So it wasn’t surprising to find him perched on the armrest of a chair that’s tucked further into a corner, with a cup in hand and a much too serious expression on his face.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm doesn't drink a lot, so he feels largely on the periphery of the post-dinner gathering as well. He notices Five sitting over in the corner and makes his way over, leaning on the wall beside him.

"Do you need a refill or anything?"

Later, after Doc and Negan's skirmish!

[vampirebats]

His shoulder is still aching something fierce after falling with a full-grown man on top of him, but that's not what's stinging his pride. And it's not his pride that stings the worse right now, what's sending his ass back down for a bottle of something to drink when he'd already had more than enough.

When he really wanted to just go to sleep and forget the discomfort gnawing at him, the nagging thought maybe he ought to take his leave. Doc wouldn't ask him to leave, but he can't imagine he wouldn't be happy about it if it happened.

Part of Negan knows he probably ought to be alone anyway, but the bigger, more asshole side doesn't want to be. So here he is, hoping he can sneak down to grab another bottle of Moonshine and retreat to the bedroom before someone catches him when he's not sure if he's capable of being Negan and not some sorry sack of shit clad in a really cool leather jacket.

So of course someone catches him. A too familiar face, even if it's not as weird now to think of him as just Malcolm and not the guy who looks like Jesus. He gives a quick nod in greeting.

"Hey, man." He's hoping to god he didn't hear any weird crashing or arguing from the bathroom.

"Just grabbing a little nightcap. You want one?"