030-035 » a-hunting they will go

[villagemod]

WHO: Everyone.
WHERE: Eastern/Central Mathias.
WHEN: Days 030-035
WHAT: Unexpected changes come to Mathias, followed by a Hunt.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. PM this account to have a warning added!
NOTES: Plotting post over here! And shiny new CR meme too.

RECOMMENDED ♫ Marco Beltrami "It Hears You"

DAYS 030-032
A CHANGE IN CIRCUMSTANCES
The day after the earthquake dawns like any other in Mathias Township. The sky is a light winter grey, clouds obscuring even a hint of true sunlight, and snow falls off and on in dustings that rest atop the piles left from the storm a few days past. The air is bitterly cold, a gentle wind feeling like ice in the sub-freezing temperatures, and residents should be grateful that the earthquake didn't do more damage than just breaking a few household objects.

It seems like business as usual. It will not be until the second day that residents will begin to notice the difference.

The General Store's shelves have not been restocked. Items in kitchens have not replenished in the passing night. Food from the previous day has aged as normal, and as the days continue to pass, things will begin to grow stale or become moldy as they would in the outside world. Two days pass, three, four... Still, the food does not return.

Perhaps rationing should be considered.



NEW ARRIVALS
The newest arrivals to Mathias will wake on the snowy beach near the Grey Gull restaurant. They should probably hurry inside and get warmed up before hypothermia sets in or something finds them out in the cold...

---

DAYS 033-034
IN THE NIGHT, IN THE DARK
These days, too, seem to be simply more of the same. The days are cold and grey, the food does not replenish, and they continue to be trapped in this eerie town. But when night falls, the story changes.

An hour after sunset, it begins. Scratching sounds at walls, like something searching for a way inside. The ominous feeling of something out there in the darkness, moving through the town, stalking through the night. The inability to find any sign of something being there at all. It's enough to make anyone feel like they're going mad. To happen just one night, it could be a fluke, a trick of the mind as so many things here seem to be. But to happen a second night, with more intensity... There is something there, or they are going mad.

It's hard to know which to hope for.

DAY 035
THE HUNT
This day is not like the others. There is something in the air, a dreadful anticipation that rises inside them all as the hours pass. Every moment that brings them closer to nightfall brings it closer too — if only they knew what it was.

An hour after sunset, the Hunt begins.

Those who are outside at this time are gripped by such terror that they can do nothing but run and be chased. They are prey and the predators that stalk them with steadfast determination are creatures never meant to be seen by mortal eyes. All lights outside go out, from streetlamps to flashlights, and the world descends into deeper darkness, only the clouded moonlight and curtained glow from illuminated houses lighting their way as they flee.

Those who are inside at this time are trapped in their safe havens. No doors or windows can be opened from within, nothing can be broken or forced, and they can do nothing but wait and listen while their friends and neighbors are pursued by creatures whose very presence they can feel in their bones and whose growls echo in the night, entwined with the screams of their victims.

In the thick darkness, these creatures appear little more than shadows, large and looming, deadly and unknown, but in rare glimpses in scattered pieces of light, the Hunted are met with a sight they cannot comprehend and will never be able to properly describe or fully remember, for these creatures cannot be fathomed within the limits of the human mind.

The Hunt lasts for one hour exactly and then the creatures vanish into the darkness, leaving only fear and death in their wake.


ABOUT THE HUNT
— Players may choose to have their resident be one of the Hunted or a Witness to the Hunt. None are exempt from the the Hunt and all will be affected by it in some way.

— Those who are hunted must flee the creatures or they will die. The Hunted may move throughout the town at any speed, for the creatures may choose to move both quickly or slowly, but the creatures will always inevitably find them. The only escape is to seek shelter — the creatures will not enter a building where living people are, but they will follow the Hunted into buildings where there are no other living people.

— Those who are trapped within buildings at the start of the Hunt are unable to open doors and windows from within, but the Hunted may open them from outside in order to take shelter in these safe havens.

— Those who are hunted are unable to fight back against the creatures until the moments just before their death. This is due the creatures only having physical form in these final moments, rendering any attacks against them useless, whether they be physical, magical, or psychic in nature. Attempts may be made in those moments before death, but by then it is too late — the prey has been caught.

— When one of the Hunted is caught, there is no escaping, there is only screaming in madness as death falls painfully upon them. No one can come to their aid and their body will be found afterward, the bloody remains ripped and torn apart by something that cannot be identified. Large sprays and pools of blood stain the area around the corpse, turning the snow sickening shade of crimson that darkens as the hours pass.

— After the creatures have vanished, there are no signs of them to be found in the snow. There are no tracks or marks of any kind save for the carnage of the fresh kill.

— Those who have been sacrificed to the Hunt will revive two days later on Day 037. The conditions in which they revive will be detailed later, but there will be only minor lasting physical damage from the Hunt.

— The Hunted will lose 5 points of sanity. Those Witnesses who find the corpses will lose 2 points of sanity, or 3 points if they are not unaccustomed to this type of sight. Others who are merely Witnesses to the sounds of Hunt may choose to lose 1 point of sanity as a result of the experience.

---

CONDITIONS UPDATE

— THE WEATHER is fairly typical of a northern winter. The sky is almost always grey, the temperature is below freezing during the day (and colder at night), and a light snow falls intermittently. The sun sets early in the evening. 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 beginning a few dozen yards past the treeline, urging residents to stay huddled within the town proper, and it also now blocks the northern section of town, beginning just past Hill Lane, before where residents know the chasm in the earth to be between Hill and Stine Road. Venturing into the fog is ill-advised.

— DISAPPEARANCES continue. Sherlock Holmes is still missing, and Phil Coulson, John Constantine, Zed Martin, and Helen Magnus have vanished as well.

---

OOC NOTES

— FOOD will be restocked in some fashion in the next full log, don't worry. We aren't going full survival mode yet.

— DAY 036 The next log will cover Day 36 only and will include the locations of deaths and any corpse burials that occur the night of Day 35 or are planned for Day 36. (There will be prompts included for both the "living" and the "dead" in this single day log.) Please submit all information by Wednesday, Feb 17.

— MOD STATUS It's mostly just Amy steering this ship for now, so things will probably be pretty slow for a while. Apologies in advance, and please don't feel shy about pinging me if you're stuck waiting for something.

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Dean Winchester | Supernatural

[cholesterol]

Plotting.

Days 030 and 031 | Open

[cholesterol]

The Dawn Patrol

( On day thirty, Dean wakes up early, deciding to make the town rounds. Between 8 and 9, anyone out and about could see Dean throughout the town, down by the beach, crossing the makeshift graveyard and by the outskirts of the trees.

Returning to 1301, he collects his bag of cleaning supplies (and an iron firepoker just in case), and also carries his record player to The Grey Gull.

He does two more rounds, at 2 and 6, a flashlight in hand when he needs it and a kitchen knife concealed in his waistband at the back. Just because he was stripped of his gun and his knife doesn't make he hasn't made what he's found work.

Day 31, he does the same, his daily patrols pretty fixed and on schedule. )

The Fix-Up

( On Day 30, Dean plugs in the record player around 9AM. Dropping the spindle down, one of Zeppelin's best albums comes to life as Dean gets to work. He had help planned, but by 9:30, it seems that he will not be joined today. Day 30 is about sanitizing the main bar area. He starts with the floor, moves to the tables, chairs, and then the bar and the shelves behind the bar. He's brought one bottle of moonshine to as to showcase something.

Day 31, he focuses on the kitchen area early. If people are going to be using this place to drink and eat, it should all be up to code. He washes the glasses, wipes down the equipment and even takes an hour deep cleaning the oven.

Dean likes a project and with the Grey Gull he's found one.

Today, his music is more Asia than Zeppelin. But, you may catch him turning it off after a certain song is played. He was told all about the song that wouldn't die that Tuesday. Don't mind him while he switches it up to some Blue Oyster Cult. He likes his classic rock. It's true. Miss him with the hair metal, please. By the end of Day 31, he'll be working on the stairs next, mopping them. He's got a system in place. )

day 31

[tinstar]

[What time had he said? Nine AM, right. Raylan knew he was going to have to either explain or lie about why he missed the appointment to set up the Gull, but it was something to think over as he got dressed, jean jacket over his three layers of shirts with his heavy black one on top to set himself up to not freeze no matter where he got stuck. The armor was complete with the settling of his white hat on his head, all his problems stuffed up under it.

He could only hope Dean didn't give him too much shit.

Two bottles in hand, Raylan ambled into the Gull, only about ten minutes late.]

Dean?

[cholesterol]

( Honest? With this town, Dean should've thought foul play. But, he knows whatever has them fucks with them day to day. He wasn't trapped anywhere, and Chuck damn it, Raylan better not be dead. But, he knows what exploration actually gets him or anyone so far. He still has spine-tingling memories of that film strip and the picture that mirrored it. Besides, it goes from, maybe Raylan's just late to Dean getting into the cleaning and the music. And then the newcomer bonanza. Seemed like posting up at the Grey Gull meant he got to do the beginning spiel a few times.

'Sides, Raylan would reach out when he could. Or, he wouldn't.

And technically, Ray, he agreed to 9:30, so you're early for day two but late from day one. Dean's not keeping track. You being alive is a win.

When Ray ambles in, he finds the main room on the first floor is much cleaner than it used to be. The floors and bar top are all sanitized and cleared off. It's the furniture that needs it next.

Dean's in the kitchen, assessing what needs to be deep cleaned. (The oven, the fridge, the surfaces, floor, pans... everything, it looks like when he hears Raylan's voice.) He closes the over door and heads back into the dining room. )

Look what the cat dragged in. You good?

[tinstar]

[His amble slowed as he looked around at all that Dean had already gotten done - quite a good bit of progress and he was happy to see that there was still plenty for him to do. He needed the distraction, the work. The project in total, really.

He lifts his chin as his head swings towards Dean, face breaking into a crooked hollow type smile.]

Perfect as pie. [It was an utter lie.] Sorry about yesterday, I got.. indisposed.. Unavoidably.. [Raylan took a deep breath in and refocused on the main area.] Looks like you got some work done, hope I'm not too late to pitch in makin' myself useful. I brought an extra bottle in apology.

30

[exsto]

[ Leaving the guy behind that found him on the beach, Bucky moves up the side of the building before stopping and turning his attention to the sound of some music coming from inside. When gets inside, it's pretty clear when he pushes the door open of the Grey Gull that he's not just cold and wet but very new to town. There's a bewildered look on his face as intense blue eyes make him appear more than just slightly unhinged. In truth, he was merely trying to function while having the worse headache of his life and not understanding why.

When his eyes catch someone in the corner of the room, who, after he gets a little closer, appears to have a long metal rod type weapon in his hand, Bucky suddenly stands more on guard. A metal fist closes down at his side. ]

I just need to know how to get out of here. Tell me and I'll be on my way.

[cholesterol]

( The fire poker has been returned, Bucky, as he's finished his latest patrol and left it leaning against the wall. The metal rod is set back down in a duffel. He zips it back up underneath him. He hears the door behind him open and then close. Dean clenches, knowing it could be anyone. But, how can he not? His back was turned Amateur move one.

He whirls around, assessing Bucky. Sticks out like a sore thumb, doesn't he? )

That door. But, all it'll bring you to is the rest of the town. There's no getting out of the town. ( He pulls a rag down from his shoulder and wipes his hands. ) You just wake up?

[exsto]

Yeah.

[ The answer comes in a tone that is full of question, though a normal person would no doubt sound just as unnerved on bouncing from one location to the next without any recollection of it. ]

When you say there's no getting out, what do you mean by that exactly?

Day 31 Asia time

[moosey]

(Sam avoided Dean as much as he could for as long he could before seeking him out at the Grey Gull. His brother had mentioned it in passing so he figured maybe he could make himself useful.

He stops in the doorway listening for a minute. )

You know Asia is more my jam?

(He looks around)

So this is the new Roadhouse?

The worst of times, the best of times

[cholesterol]

( Sam didn't need to avoid his brother. He just had a project on the mind and he knew Sam would take to town research like geeky white on nerd-rice. He probably creamed himself from the town hall with all the information being thrown at him. Dean paid attention, too, but he's a little worn out from all the information not bringing them any answers. And Raylan actually stepped up today, so, he's been making more progress. Dean mentioned to Sam his and the marshal's plan. A place to congregate. What's better than a bar at the end of the world?

Sore subject, and one Dean hadn't lived through. Losing Cas had sure felt like the end of the world.

Stay on topic.

Raylan's back in the kitchen as Dean deep cleans pans at the bar.

Asia is more his jam. Dude, who doesn't love Heat of the Moment? Probably his brother...

Rinsing the pan, he cracks a wry smile. )

Hoped you'd come by, just wanted to give you a taste of the second time we did this. ( Not that he remembers it. He only heard about it firsthand. The first time was when they thought he was just a freakin' Trickster. As for the second question: ) Maybe. Think we can think Ellen and Jo back here?

( They died too young, to protect them, the Winchester brothers.

He sets a pan aside. ) Grab a rag, you're on drying duty.

[moosey]

[Sam's hand goes to his neck automatically but he quickly drops it hoping Dean doesn't notice.

Okay, he might be living in fantasy land... sue him ]

Of course, Dean. It looks great. I always thought you'd own the Roadhouse 2.0 but you'd think of a cooler name.

He shrugged his shoulders ]

I wish it was that easy. Do you really want them here, though?

[Sam smiled and grabbed the rag and the pan drying quietly for a second.]

You're not going to force me to eat bacon, are you?

day 31

[conning]

[ Neal has an inkling of bad feelings when he checks the General Store in the morning and... sees gaps on the shelves. Somehow, that unsettles him more than the fact that they've been filling themselves up somehow until this point.

So, next stop: the Gull. Time to see if the cocoa he scavenged two days ago has come back yet. He leaves a note in the kitchen of 1306 before heading out, telling his housemates where he's going, a paranoid habit he plans on cultivating for however long they're here. When he hears noise in the kitchen, he pauses, but it sounds benign. And there's music.

He stops at the threshold, raising his eyebrows at the sight of Dean with his head buried in the oven while Blue Oyster Cult plays. ] Be glad I don't have any Gretel-ish tendencies. This could get awkward fast.

[cholesterol]

It's not on.

( He calls out, echoing inside the oven before sticking his head back out. Sitting back, he turns to face Neal. )

Also, I killed Hansel and Gretel's witch. So. Good luck with that.

( He doesn't look like he's kidding. )

The marshal and me are cleaning the place up. Thought we might treat it like a real bar. Give ourselves hours and give people a place they can congregate. Not that visiting everyone in their houses isn't quaint and all.

[conning]

In that case, it would get really awkward really fast. [ Dean doesn't look like he's kidding, and at this point, Neal doesn't think he is either. He shakes his head at that, but then perks up at the prospect of a Grey Gull with actual hours of operation. Anything for a change that's not horrible. ] Yeah? That's a good idea. The Town Hall isn't exactly a good place for casual meetings.

031

[likeknives]

[It's a little late when Eliot comes in to make some coffee in the kitchen. He doesn't take notice of anyone else there at first, he seems completely lost in his own thoughts. At this point he's noticed there's definitely something wrong with the food and he almost doesn't want to allow himself a treat of coffee in case that this is it and they will have to ration even coffee. Next best thing would be to make sure that it doesn't get wasted. Anyone else around that might want some...?

He hears music and he goes over to the stairs, waving at the guy mopping them.]

Got a fresh thing of coffee goin'. It kinda sucks, but it's drinkable. You want one?

[cholesterol]

( Dean likes his tunes, so you can bet when he switches rooms, tasks, and chores, he moves the record player. It's back in the main room now, on one of the tables by the outlet. He started from the top and worked his way down. Eliot comes into view, coming from the kitchen and Dean's fight or flight response kicks in. Of course he's holding a mop when this guy shows up. He white knuckles the brook in his hand, not moving.

He could see himself charging down the steps, trying to press this mop handle against his windpipe. But, they've got Negan now. What are the odds.

He grits his teeth, managing a tone that tells Eliot he should heed Dean's warning. )

Lee?

Day 035 | Closed to Elena

[cholesterol]

( The last two days, food isn't replenishing. It's spoiling. Dean's made one last trip to the General Store. Trying to find what canned or dried goods, and jerky he takes a bite from as he carefully scavenges. He's not trying to be a vulture. Just trying to see what might be salvageable and what might last. So, it's the same in every house and in every building. Good to know things are going to shit everywhere.

Today felt different, just like the sun setting feels different tonight, too.

His plan is to gather what can be gathered. He'll bring it back to their house and then like the night before, he's back out. This thing wants to be hunted, Dean'll hunt it. He has a better plan this time. He thinks, anyway. He wants to get a higher angle, maybe. He can sneak up or even take something down from above if need be.

Him, Claire, even Sam, they've all talked about what's been happening and about what needs to be done. He plans on being back.

Why is it every time Dean makes plans... )

[descendent]

[ it's not unusual for elena to make her way to the general store a few times a day. it is a little unusual to not be accompanied by elijah. all she wants is to take a walk, grab a bag of chips, maybe a chocolate bar, and see if the store has bothered to replenish itself today.

here's hoping.

it turns out to be completely and utterly useless. the general store is still in the same state that it was in the previous day. no matter how many times she blinks and wishes to see something that should be there, it doesn't appear.

even though it's useless to walk up and down each aisle as every aisle is the same story, she still does it. she runs her hands along the labels of bottles and the lip of shelves, stands on the tips of her toes to try and spy something being restocked to find nothing. when she enters a new aisle, she smiles at seeing dean. ]

It's still not restocking?

[cholesterol]

( Dean heard the door open, but he was crouched down, collecting some canned goods. as he stands, he comes face to face with Elena in the same aisle. )

No. Seems preservation magic shorted out.

Day 035 | Closed to Castiel

[cholesterol]

( Dean didn't address it with Sam, but they neared what he used to call a chick flick moment. Sam had told Dean he was proud of him, all because of whatever he didn't do with Chuck. He thinks about that, how Cas' words must've sunk in if even after Chuck begged him to, (or maybe not?), Dean wouldn't kill him. Dean isn't a killer.

Dean hasn't lived through it. The last thing Dean remembers is falling apart completely and ignoring his brother's call. But, his brother corroborates Cas' story.

That's part of what gets Dean up on Day 30. He had plans with Raylan. He likes the idea of cleaning up the Grey Gull and giving people a port in the storm should they need it. He always wanted a bar. He meets some new people. He reconnects with old people. And with the addition of a second look-a-like from his life, Dean's thrown for another loop. Over the course of those few days, he also thinks.

The night before, it felt like things were ramping up and getting actually dangerous. He's not discounting the danger of the fog or the spores, but he misses something he can see with his own eyes and stab with his own hands. No, he's not a killer, but if it's necessary, he kills. Isn't that the distinction? The night of Day 34 turns up nothing. Dean doesn't find anything. The scratching doesn't go away.

The next morning, something tells him that today's the day. He doesn't know why. It's a mixed feeling of dread and foreshadowing. Something happens, he'd want to talk to Cas. He's been wanting to. He's been thinking about him more, missing him if he doesn't see him all day. It's -- not something he's used to, and it's really hard for him to define what he's feeling. He knows he smiles brighter when Cas is in the same room, and when he talks about Cas. Knowing Cas is safe makes him breathe easier. Claire's always been a priority and now his brother, but Cas is -- he's different.

So, he approaches Cas' open door, knocks, and doesn't wait for a reply before he steps inside and faces the door, closing it behind him.

Ready to say something, he turns back. )

Sam told me that when we had Chuck where we wanted him, that I didn't kill him. He asked me to, wanted Dean Winchester, killer, to kill him. What better way to end our epic. I didn't live it. But, I get that what you said to me, I must've heard it. It got to me. I uh - gave you a hard time for waiting and for dying. I... I don't blame you for not saying something. ( Until Cas had to. Until he had absolutely no choice. ) But, I should thank you. For what you said. I heard it.

( He heard it here, too. But, all he's wanted is something physical to end - a reason behind everything. What he hasn't done is looked at this as some sort of second Cas-chance. They're all stuck, they're trapped, people are dead, missing, or freaking confused. )

[aprofoundbond]

[Castiel hasn't missed the way resources in town seem to be vanishing without replenishing. Nor does he miss the odd sounds at night, little noises that gradually start to get under his skin the more he listens to them. A sense of dread has settled upon him like the thick fog surrounding the edges of town outside, and he can't quite explain why.

He's lost in thought, trying to think of any potential resources he should try and venture out in find, just to have in case they need a backup stock supply, when he hears the knock and turns to find Dean entering his room. His heart swoops into his stomach at the sight of him; butterflies skitter about underneath his skin. Warmth flourishes as he thinks of that night and all of the feelings Dean inspires in him.

Dean starts talking before Castiel can speak, and what he says, well. Castiel's eyes widen, and that warmth rushes right through him as Dean describes having taken Castiel's own words to heart. Castiel smiles, and can't stop smiling, listening to and watching Dean.]

Dean, I'm so glad. I wanted so badly for you to hear that you aren't a killer, that you're more than what others make you out to be.

I wish I could have witnessed that for myself. I'm so proud of you, Dean.

[Dean taking his words to heart is all Castiel has ever wanted. Especially those words. He moves to take a step closer to Dean instinctively, without thinking.]

[cholesterol]

( Those scratches have driven Dean to drink, hah patrolling in circles the last two nights, to no avail. He is intimately familiar with those scratches following him around.

Dean draws a breath, his lips coming together afterward. He's proud of him, for standing up to what Chuck wanted? For coming to him now and acknowledging it? He's more than what others make him out to be. But, he's also... )

Knowing what I'm capable of, not acting on it, that's not the same as, being more than what people think I am. I still am those things.

( He's -- what else do people think of him? Unfeeling. Angry. Needs to get the job done, no matter what. Does the hard things. Yes. Kills. And maybe... maybe he loves. He just doesn't know how to say it. )

I'm not better than anyone else. I'm not worth more than anyone else. You know, it took me a long time to reconcile why God wanted me. Thinking I was just a part of this screwed up prophecy... But, I'm not special, Cas. I'm just one half of a duo Chuck had a hard-on for.

Day 035 | Closed to Claire

[cholesterol]

( The last two nights have been a waste. Patrolling brings up nothing but feeling like he's running around in circles. The scratching follows him and anybody else like it wants to taunt everyone.

And isn't that what this freakin' town does?

After comparing notes with Elena in the General Store, Dean returns to 1301. With the sun setting, the scratching is going to set in again. Unfortunately, arming himself in this town is not like arming himself regularly. He doesn't have a full arsenal. He has an iron fire poker and a large carving knife that regularly lives in his waistband and not in the knife block. Sorry for anyone that wants to bake or roast a turkey.

Shrugging on a sweater and his green jacket, Dean comes back down the stairs. He found Claire, and unlike the other nights, he accepts her offer to patrol with him tonight. He's sure nothing will come of it like every other damn night. But, they need to be out there in case something happens.

He leaves a note for Sam and Cas. A real tastefully written, elaborated note.

Hah. It's mostly, "Out patrolling. Leftovers in the fridge.
D & C"

Taking the front, he lets Claire flank him as they venture back into the night. )

[waywardsister]

[ Claire is similarly outfitted with an arsenal of improvised weapons. A broken off chair leg that acts as a poor man's baseball bet, a kitchen knife from the Gull, an iron fire poker from back when she expected ghosts. A silver butter knife from 1306, back when she originally ended up holed up there, before it became casa cowboy.

It's not much in terms of an aresnal - but it's better than nothing. Her backpack also has some salt somewhere, not that ghosts have been an actual thing. Not the ones she knows how to handle at any rate.

They move well together as the sun sets, Mathias slowly darkening. Claire's eyes tirelessly scan through the gloom. ]

Did you see anything the past couple nights?

[cholesterol]

( The ghosts have been a waste of shadows and slammed doors. Also, freaking scratching. It's possible they weren't ghosts. Dean keeps alert, eyes up, narrowing as he tries to make out the difference in the darkness. Is there anything. )

Nothing. Maybe that's how porch guy gets his jollies, watching us go around in circles chasing a noise.

( One that follows them all, anyway. He heads back in the direction he'd come from, toward the main part of town. )

You?

( Come to think of it, he wonders if whatever's scratching - scratched back in the model home he and Cas were locked in. If those shadows weren't spirits. Or, they were. Scratching spirits. It would make sense why they couldn't make them out in the night. You'd think they wouldn't blend in with the buildings. )