villagelogs | 030-035 » a-hunting they will go

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030-035 » a-hunting they will go

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.

navigation | faq | setting | mod contact

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"So if it happened tomorrow, you wouldn't even look for me?"

Malcolm didn't look at all convinced of that.

"I woke up... around the usual time. It was still dark. I left Neal the bed and... instead of going downstairs, I went into the Master. I thought... if you were both in there... maybe I'd catch an extra... nap with you."

A 'nap' made it not sound awkward and needy, right?

"But you weren't there. In the middle of the night. So I looked around and you weren't anywhere. So I went and got Neal up."

Raylan gave him a look, lips drawing in a flat line. It would take a special kind of hell to stop him for looking for anyone that had settled into their house. Of course they would look for Malcolm. Or Neal or Negan.

But he listened silently, downing the rest of what was in his glass with a wince and nodding before turning back to trade his glass for the bottle of moonshine. That meant it was near 7 hours before they realized they were gone. The only comfort Raylan could take was that they hadn't started later and were, ultimately successful.

He strode back to where he'd been and further to pass Malcolm, chewing his liver more than he had been before.

"I'm glad you guys showed. We shouted at you. Tried to.. get your attention but it didn't.." It didn't quite get there, and the New Yorkers had left. That's when the last vestiges of hope had really evaporated. They could have died down there. Turned into some skeletons. Raylan wonders if he could have gotten Doc to go further down the tunnels or not, had they stayed their longer.

"We tried to save battery light. Use it only when the.." When everything down there, even their breathes echoed back at them mockingly. But it, of course, had died, eventually.

If it had been Raylan or Doc's night to stay with him, he would have noticed sooner. He thought they were on the patio or something when he went to bed. Celebrating having a night of freedom.

"Raylan..." He stepped forward, putting a gentle hand on the arm holding the bottle. "If you guys decide to go exploring ever again... can you tell someone you're doing that? And if things happen like they do and you get trapped somewhere, can you please know that we will not give up on you?"

Right. They should of. It was their own fault. Raylan looked over at Malcolm and then back down at the ground with a nod of his head, like a little boy being admonished for running off.

"Yeah," he replied quietly. "Sorry."

Malcolm frowned faintly.

"Why are you sorry?" he asked.

Raylan took a breath in, face turning towards Malcolm, though his eyes stayed down somewhere in a nebulous middle. "Mining operations work the way they do to keep people safe. I know those protocols. And I was too pissed off about that goddamned door to not rile him on. I was goin' in, one way or the other." He met Malcolm's gaze as he continued. "Ladder wasn't supposed to break. I thought it'd take one trip by the pair of us. Wasn't supposed to be more than a minute."

Wasn't supposed to turn into a big pain in his ass and his mental state. Wasn't meant to make anyone worry, or be trouble. Despite knowing the difference, part of Raylan functioned under the understanding that worry was trouble and people were better saved from his trouble. Saying that? Not an option - he could already hear the return argument in his head. Thanks Winona.

Malcolm stepped in, putting both hands on Raylan's chest, trying to catch his eyes.

"Raylan... what happened wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. This place just... teaches us lessons about itself and we make new protocols, right?"

He could say more, but it felt important to just be really clear on that part.

Malcolm close and half against his chest warmed him immediately, in the most physical sense but there was no other explanation other than the need to touch in return for his free hand settling on his side as he met those too blue eyes, even in the shadows of night.

"That's what you tell the teenager who's crashed the car or the 20 somethin' who runs over the neighbors dog, Malcolm. Fact of the matter is that I did. I knew better. Doc can say whatever he wants, and I'm guessin' you've talked to him-" If not, he knew Malcolm would, as some point, "-but my head got away from me and it comes with consequences."

They could have died and he knew it.

Malcolm hadn’t talked to Doc really yet and Raylan had just said he thought the ladder would hold, so he’d considered that much. Still, if he was bound that he should have at least known they could have been trapped...

“Then you can apologize to Doc for that, I guess, but you don’t owe an apology to me. I got trapped somewhere, too, remember? Nobody gave me any crap about how I could let it happen. You don’t deserve it, either. You’d never endanger anyone here on purpose.”

"I'm no-" He stopped, and started again. "That's not what the sorry was for. For not doin' what I knew I ought to have and makin' you worry. Making you come look for us."

“You didn’t make me do that,” Malcolm told him. “I chose to do it. And I did it because I care about you and I wanted you to be okay, not because I felt like I owed it to you or something. And if you got swallowed up by the forest, then I’d scour every inch of it until I found you. And if you got lost in the snow, then I’d be out there looking for any sign of your hat,” he said with a hint of a smile.

Raylan's hand tightened a little on Malcolm's hip and his face softened, almost nearly breaking a passing pull of his lips. "You know what I mean," he said with a lift of his chin. "It was avoidable. That's all."

No one had a gun to Malcolm or Neal's head, no one really made them look for the cowboys but they were edging into semantics.

"I know you want to.. forgive everything away. But me acknowledin' the reality of the situation also isn't me tryin' to shoulder the blame that isn't there. Somethings can't be fixed."

"I know," Malcolm said grimly. "I know there are things that can't be fixed." He couldn't be fixed. "But you know we're not getting out of here without taking a calculated chance now and then and you shouldn't kick yourself for taking one just because it went wrong. Nobody else is. And that's why we're all... we're all here together, so someone will have our backs. This house is our community. We're here for each other. And it's not a burden, it's part of the package."

He shook his head a little. It seemed this was going to be a point they didn't quite settle on, not quite disagreeing but somehow not on quite the same page.

"You're right. And I'm grateful for it. For y'all comin' to find us. For y'all bein' here." It was a subtle white flag. Raylan hadn't been discounting any of that, but he understood why Malcolm was saying so.

What Malcolm wanted Raylan to understand, in his bones - the way Malcolm did - that he wasn't alone and they would always come for him. It wasn't right that he felt abandoned down there. Lost forever. Even if it had been proven wrong, he'd had to sit down there feeling it.

Malcolm watched his face for a moment. It was a compromise, what he was saying. There was something there he didn't quite agree with but... he still needed his own time to work through what happened too.

Malcolm slid his hands up around Raylan's neck and hugged him tight.

It was a good sweet sentiment but it was going to take a lot of years for people like Raylan and John Henry Holliday to accept that as the norm. Or even the rare exception. They'd spent too long getting kicked around by life for all that.

But for all the talk, Raylan didn't and couldn't feel much better about what had happened. Not when the walls threatened to close in on him when he looked at them too long.

The hug was a surprise and Raylan's hand hovered where it had been before slowly, almost hesitantly wrapping it around Malcolm. This wasn't like their last hug, a random rush of bravery. This was kinder. Softer, somehow and after a long second, the bottle was dropped into the snow next to them so he could do the same with his other hand and hug Malcolm tightly in return, cheek turning into Malcolm's head.

"Thank you for findin' us," he whispered.

"There's no 1306 without our cowboys," Malcolm murmured back, still holding on tight.

Raylan pressed a kiss into Malcolm's hair and rubbed his thumb back and forth across the middle of his shoulders before gently letting go and pulling back a little.

"You think Neal will take one more night with you? I- I don't want to lay down yet. Not tonight." Laying down meant going to sleep meant the nightmares he knew was coming and with the way he felt inside, it was better he take the time to try and sort himself before laying down. Even if it turned into a couple of day project; he'd doze.

"Oh. Yeah," he said with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry about me."

Even if Neal wouldn't or couldn't, was it such a big deal? He woke up alone every night at home. He could deal with it. Maybe he wouldn't even bother Neal. Maybe he'd make do until the cowboys felt better.

It was an ambitious plan, doomed to fail, but he looked pretty confident.

"Neal did fine with it last night."

"When you get up.. Don't be afraid to come find me.. How'd he take it?" Not that he was ushering Malcolm off or anything but Raylan knew that time was gonna be coming on soon. He didn't want Malcolm to misunderstand.

"Aren't you cold out here?"

Edited 2021-02-12 20:57 (UTC)

“I think it shook him a little bit, being right there for it, but he was good. He was sweet.”

Cold? He smiled a little. “I’m used to working in the cold. Anyway,” he gestured towards Raylan. “I just warmed up.”

He gestured to the house. “Where... do you think you might be sleeping? Come the wee hours. Theoretically?” Because crawling in there to curl up next to him sounded like it might help Raylan sleep as much as it made Malcolm feel safe.

Neal seemed sweet, in that impossible way that Malcolm was, in ways that Raylan couldn't quite get his head around. "Tell Doc that then too. He worried a lot about you and your nightmares." And how much they could trust Neal with them.

Raylan hadn't so much, only because he knew that Malcolm could handle himself if he had to and they were in the middle of being stuck in a hole with more important things to think about.

He hummed, a faint smile crooking. "Downstairs. Living room. Might even find me on the couch. If Doc's already posted up there, then on the patio. Figure he's had enough of me, but.. One of those places. Somewhere easy to find. Theoretically." Raylan didn't even want to be horizontal for a while. It was a trap.

Malcolm leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, because kissing his mouth seemed too forward, out here in the open air with no doors.

“I will see you then,” he said with a little smile, taking an almost reluctant step back. It was getting that time and he had to retrieve his teacup and get a move on, he supposed.

The Marshal hummed a faint note at the kiss and would have accepted something more forward but only because they away from the house and in the dark together, but it was probably for the best. The last thing he needed was to worry about that too, on top of everything else.

"I'll try to land somewhere that's got two seats, otherwise you're gonna end up in my lap," he warned good naturedly as Malcolm pulled away, with the only tonal reassurance he could. He could lie about this for days and since he wasn't going to talk about the deep details of how it left him feeling, at least he could try and make Malcolm feel better.

Malcolm smiled as he picked up his cup.

“Maybe I’ll sit there no matter what,” he teased back, giving him one more smile over his shoulder before he slipped back inside.

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