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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Comments

[fika]

For all the bullshit that Five puts up with in this family, for all the years spent away and the blood-stained ledger to get back, there’s certain things that test his patience to its limits.

It isn’t a particularly difficult thing to do, no.

But his demeanour still shifts, a bit more rigid. Far be it for him to think anything they did could ever be fucking normal; that he could pretend to not be haunted by the means to get to the end goals for one lousy damn night.

First, he takes a long sip from the moonshine, because he’s particularly petty, and because maybe he wants this shit to knock him off his feet, Neal. We all cope in different ways.

But by the time Klaus is done spilling the too-honest information, his mouth is curled into a snarl. “Maybe you need to learn when to shut up, Klaus.” It’s flinty, and his grip is tight on his cup. “Or at least not act shocked when nobody tells you shit.” Low blow but that’s what we’re going for between siblings.

Sure, some know of his history. Some know of his age and that’s not the issue here. All the bullshit of their lives has adopted an odd sense of normalcy, but Five, for all the feral frenzy of his disposition, has only ever relied on control. He decides who know what and where about him. It slips up sometimes, but a dinner party isn’t the place for it and the first thing he feels, in his experiences callously summarized, is panic.

Naturally, it culminates in anger.

Nothing to see here, really. Just sibling things.

[conning]

Neal has to take a minute. He thinks he's been doing pretty well handling all of this, between the vampires and the zombies and the aliens and the general, you know, trauma.

But that's a lot.

And it clearly doesn't make Five happy to have that a lot spilled so casually.

"I think it's my turn for an apology," Neal says quietly. "I can imagine the assumptions get annoying as hell."

[fika]

Five, to his limited credit, does his best to school the irritation. It doesn't necessarily work, and the smile he gives is serrated, in contrast to the dimples, and is more reminiscent of someone who's seen a lot more shit than a thirteen year old would.

As advertised, really.

"Oh, don't," is the strong recommendation on the offered apology. He doesn't need it. "But yeah, it's a pain in the ass, considering I'm 58."

[conning]

He manages, barely, to keep himself from answering A sprightly 58.

He does not, however, manage to stop himself from saying, "I really thought I was getting used to weird."

More moonshine? Definitely more moonshine. "...Do you lose context for what's weird, after a certain point?"

[bestfuneralever]

“Eventually,” Klaus pipes up with a facial shrug. “But where the line for that eventuality sits for everyone is different.”

[conning]

He shakes his head. "I'm pretty sure that out of everyone here, I started at the base-left corner of the graph."

[bestfuneralever]

“You’re not the only one that came from a normal life,” Klaus points out, with a glance to Raylan, and Malcolm, before looking back at Neal with a shrug.

[conning]

Neal tilts his head in acquiescence. He's pretty sure Malcolm's life could be classified somewhere well outside of normal, but it wasn't the... supernatural side of abnormal. "Do you think it makes it easier to handle all of this? Being kind of used to it?"

[fika]

It's a really good thing he stopped himself! No one wants to see a tantrum.

"Probably will be better for your sanity if you lose that context real quick," comes the other end of that answer, a look tossed Klaus' way.

[conning]

"Noted." Neal takes a deeper drink of moonshine, trying to swallow down sudden queasiness along with the burn. He's less sure of his sanity every day that goes by in this place. "Were you all part of the first group to arrive?"

[fika]

"I was," he shrugs, settling against the back of his chair. Underneath the thorns of his disposition, there's disquiet and the look he throws Neal is almost sympathetic. "Doc, and Raylan too. Amongst others. Klaus wasn't and neither were the rest here."

[conning]

Neal shakes his head. "That had to be... I can't even imagine. Just landing here and not having someone there to at least explain what we know. Even if we don't know much."

[bestfuneralever]

Klaus opens his mouth to retort, but he snaps it shut instead. It's always so different when his siblings get snappish with him, rather than literally anyone else. What they think, what they say, matters. How he makes them feel, matters.

He practically crumbles right on the spot, feet dragged up onto the rung of his chair, all of his body language curled inward. His stomach suddenly feels like it's been filled with lead and he's quiet through the rest of dinner, left sipping his drink and staring at the remnants of his dinner on his plate.

[thering]

Doc knew that Five was older than he looked, that some timey wimey was involved, and Five has a saviour complex that you could practically see from the moon. Still, he did not know the whole story of it, and honestly, it wasn't Klaus's to share, however hurt he might have felt from the fallout of Five's disappearance.

Being the man who tries to broker the peace between everyone is a new role for a gunslinger who has always drawn first, pulled the trigger and tended to ask questions later. But a hundred and thirty years the long way around gives a no-longer-dying man some perspective and mellows him out considerably. Doc can still be hot-headed but he is also now more willing to ask first and shoot later, to take the delicate approach, and studying the ebb and flow of found family dynamics around the dinner table, he decides he ought to intervene before someone says something in the heat of the moment to shatter each other's love to pieces.

"Hey," he says quietly, getting slowly to his feet as other people start leaving the table, either for another helping or deciding that they're finished. He pats Klaus on the shoulder a couple of times. "Come along now. Take your drink, leave your plate. Come with me."

[bestfuneralever]

Klaus is distracted by nothing but thoughts rolling in his head when the tap to his shoulder comes and he glances up, finding Doc standing there, making demands of his company. He doesn't say anything, but he does nod, and grabs the half-finished drink from the table as he follows him.

He tries not to think about the way his stomach still feels heavy, and how much like being in the doorway of Dad's office, waiting to be spoken to and only getting ignored or an annoyed dismissal this moment suddenly feels. It's still different, with Doc, than it ever was with Dad, because even if he ends up told where to shove it for telling Five's story like that, he knows the reprimand will only be because Doc wants him to learn from it. That's just the kind of guy he is.

Still, he stands a little awkwardly wherever Doc leads him, not sure what to do with himself. He can't fidget properly because there's a drink in his hand, so he settles for bringing his thumb up the bite at the knuckle. Anxious energy has to escape somehow.

[thering]

Doc draws out the silence between them, the way a disapproving dad knows best how, only he doesn't make a conscious effort of it and he would insist he has no such paternal instincts. They make their way into the garage, and cold air wraps around them both as they go through the internal door and Doc closes it behind him, keep the warmth in the main chamber of the house. There are two chairs near the garage door, and half-drunk bottles of moonshine on the floor. One is for Doc and one is for Raylan. But today Klaus can pick a chair, if he wants. Doc is just going to lean against the garage door frame.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his pack of smokes, plucking two sticks out. He doesn't ask if Klaus wants one, he just lights them both and holds one out to Klaus as he sticks the other between his lips, taking a long drag. The silence stretches and stretches like a rubber band at breaking point, but Doc doesn't say anything until after he's blown some smoke over his shoulder, blue eyes locking gaze with Klaus.

"Are you okay, son?"

[bestfuneralever]

The garage is cold, and the air in here cases a shiver to snap down his spine. He finds a place to set the glass in his hand so he can wrap his arms around his middle in a futile attempt to hold in some heat. He's got nearly nothing on his bones to help with the matter.

He doesn't sit, at least not yet, but he does immediately pluck the cigarette from Doc's offering hand to take a long, deep drag from it. The silence kills him, and now with his hands more free, he can fidget more and boy, does he. He's moving in microseconds, not sure what to do from one to the next, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, from heel to toe, only barely resisting the urge to bounce in place.

He's about to burst, to say the first thing that comes to mind and let his mouth run the show again when Doc finally says something and Klaus can feel the breath he was holding finally rush to escape his lungs along with the smoke that slips out with it.

The words, though. They don't make any of this a calmer endeavour.

He's frowning, his head shaking slightly, "I-I don't... What do you mean?"

[thering]

"Your brother, disappearing. The impending end of the world he no doubt would have told you about. You must have waited, thinking the next door you opened you might see him there. Maybe he could pop back in the way he popped out and everything would be back to how it was. Maybe he didn't make it and you would have seen him standing there anyway, and he would have told you all about it. Sometimes you watch him go out that door, the way he does like he's got a bone to pick with the world, and you think maybe this time is the last time you will see him again. It cannot have been easy for you."

For a casual, glib talk about Five's journey masks a great many pains about the people left behind, and even though Doc didn't have a comment at the time - there was nothing anyone could have said to alleviate the awkwardness of highlighting the suffering of a lonely man making a grave mistake in his brash childhood that he could not walk back from - it didn't mean Doc was too busy stuffing his face or wasn't reading between the lines.

"Everyone is too caught up in what is happening here to want to talk about what is happening at home. But we are the same people carrying the same problems with us wherever we go. And your brother, he-... he drinks, he thinks, he acts. He does not stop to talk. Especially not to you."

[bestfuneralever]

Doc is barely three sentences into his spiel before Klaus can feel the prickling of tears at the edges of his eyes. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep them from falling. He hates this. He hates how good Doc is at this. Does he even realize, as he's talking, how many things he hits, dead-center-bullseye? Now, he moves over to one of the available chairs and sinks down into it. The cigarette rests still between his fingers as he balls his hands into fists in his hair.

Every single thing the older man says is all part of things he's carried with him for the last sixteen years, with no outlet to talk about it. Sure, he'd been in countless numbers of shrink offices through the years. Always court-mandated, never by choice. But there was only so much he could explain without being assumed high, or highly delusional or otherwise mentally disturbed. Sometimes it landed him a short in-patient stay, but it gave him a bed, regular meals, and got him high on the government's dime, taking high-powered medications he didn't really need for psychological issues he didn't actually have, so he didn't mind it much at the time.

His family wasn't an option; they'd all been broken apart and shattered for over a decade. And they had never been good at any of this stuff even before that. They weren't allowed to nurture those types of skills.

"Your emotions make you weak, Number Four. You have to put them aside if you're going to save the world. There are bigger issues to concern yourself with than feelings."

He can still hear the words in his head in a perfect echo of his father's sharp cadence.

So yes. Every word Doc said is true (and more that he didn't, and couldn't begin to guess at to say were, too). But it's the last part that catches in his chest wrong. This sudden burst of a desire to tell him it's not like that, to explain, and to defend his brother. Especially his actions here. His lifts his head, steals another quick drag from his cigarette before letting his hands drop back into his lap as he leans forward on his knees, eyes focused up on Doc. "No, no, no," he shakes his head. "I- it's not like that! He's been working- you know-- to- to--"

He rolls his wrist, cigarette tucked between fingers as he tries to find the right words. "get us all home, where we belong. And- and he's honestly been...really... really good to me, since--" Since he found him dead on the beach. "since we got here, you know? It's- I don't know. It's different, I guess." It's not, not really; it's just that things are so much more limited here, and they're all so closely in each other's orbits, it's impossible not to notice when things are off.

[thering]

So... Doc feels just a smidge guilty, because he had been the one encouraging Five to bring his brother along to dinner over to 1306. He can't claim to know Klaus all that well, but he knows the young man wears his heart on his sleeve and is more like Malcolm, open and expressive whereas Five is more like the cowboys, reserved and guarded. He didn't know that he was the type to keep running his mouth before he can put his foot in it even if, honestly, he would have still extended the invitation either way. But maybe he would have had a more active hand in steering the conversation before Klaus accidentally committed a half dozen faux pas.

Towards the tail end of dinner when people start leaving the table, Doc moves over to occupy the vacated adjacent seat, sitting down next to Five and forcing him to stay by wordlessly topping up his glass of moonshine. There is no mention of apocalypses and mannequin wives.

"You said there were seven of you," Doc drawls, screwing the cap back onto the moonshine bottle as though he's not planning on finishing the whole thing by himself. "You ever get together for family dinners, like this?" Raylan, Malcolm, Neal, Negan and Doc don't have the same dynamics like Luther, Diego, Allison, Ben and Vanya, but he can't imagine those dinners are any less awkward.

[fika]

To be fair, Doc, this wasn’t a shock. He shifts a little, reclines back into his chair when Doc slides into the one beside him, and his contemplations of leaving are put on hold, brows ticking up at the question. It wasn't the one he was expecting to come, and it startles a small, surprised snort.

“Well, let's see. There was no talking allowed at the dinner table, else we interrupt the riveting lectures of Herr Carlson, or whoever else Dad chose for the time.” Five sighs, watching the pour. “Sometimes it would be Homer’s Odyssey, so that the ancient Greek would stick.”

He remembers the moments of everyone’s small rebellions, too. Diego’s knife-marked armrest, Klaus’s blunts at the ripe and early age of thirteen. Allison and Luther, thinking they were anything but obvious in the puppy-eyed glances. He knows the things he missed thanks to Vanya’s book. Knows it only got worse with Ben’s death. They all skated by somehow, but he missed the fallout, pushed out into the periphery of written pages.

“Then, we’d all sneak out to the nearest diner, and eat as much ice cream as we could, until we’d all just get sick,” he ends that with a curl of a dimpled smile, there and gone.

“But, all of that was relegated to outside of the dining room,” he turns his attention to Doc. "And it's a surprise no one stabbed each other."

[thering]

"I can only imagine." It is nice to see the fondness on Five's face, however fleeting it might have been. These things that tether them to each other are important and worth holding onto, the strangeness and oppressiveness of the situation aside.

"It is nice to have someone who talks a lot. They fill in the silence, so you do not have to yourself." Even if that silence had been filled with talk of sex dungeons and puberty. It... would have been a lot more amusing if it wasn't at Malcolm's or Five's expense.

"I hope you do not regret coming tonight. It was nice to have had you both over. And honestly I think the house needed a little reprieve from beans on toast." Even if he did not know or expect Neal to have this level of culinary skill hiding behind that sly little smile.

[fika]

Honestly, the ridiculously inappropriate commentary was just like home, and he likely wouldn't have batted an eye were the topic slightly skewed away from him.

Five knows how loud silence can be, so Klaus' chatter should be a strange comfort in moments like these. But he can't help the memories of his isolation rising to the surface at their involuntary recollection. "Yeah, until it starts to be about something he doesn't understand." Even if Doc was speaking in broader terms, he can't help himself.

"I don't regret it," Five concedes, after a moment of drumming his fingers on the glass. "I don't remember the last time we've been to anything this — normal. It was bound to get a little hinky."

[thering]

"'tis something I understand. Should you decide one sleepless night that you wish to drink and discuss the subject. Or just drink. After all, what is there to say?" Doc challenges with an upturned hand. "What is done is done. We all find our own ways to keep going."

Of course, while that is true, there is always more to say. He fully expects Five to have something rolling around his head itching to get out. He does too. But tonight is probably not the night for it. Tonight they can just drink and shrug it off.

"You are welcome to stay the night. You and your brother both. The sex dungeon," Doc intonates very deliberately, "and the master bedroom can accommodate extra people. The couch is available too. Don't stay sober on account of needing to leave the house later."

[fika]

"Maybe I'll take you up on that offer soon, Doc," he says with an agreeable, quiet hum.

Everyone has a past. People who lived longer than they're supposed to - or otherwise, who chased time the way no ordinary person could - especially can lay claim to a messy one.

What did Doc say to him, caught in that dark night chasing nothing but whispers? The worst of us survive? How precise of an aim.

But instead, he makes a face, something between poorly schooled horror and amusement. "I'm not staying sober. I'm pacing myself. In case you needed reminding, my tolerances aren't what they used to be. I don't want to be under the table before anyone else."

That would just be embarrassing.

After another sip. "I'll take the couch. And I'm stabbing the first person who tries to cuddle me with a butter knife." That absolutely includes Klaus.