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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"And here I thought you said that bottle was yours..." And this is a terrible idea, probably, when their last couple encounters have gone pretty damn bad, but it's not stopping him from taking a seat when it's offered. He settles on the space with a sigh as his eyes trail towards the fire.

"But I think I'll take you up on that."

"I could be persuaded to share." It's probably not a good idea for him to be blitzing through the whole bottle by himself anyway.

Cracking it open, Doc offers the first drink to Negan, holding the bottle out.

"As long as we are not talking." They can make small talk, maybe. That's where Doc is drawing the line.

"Alright, alright, I won't pry." They can just sit here, watching the fire and drinking. Maybe. Negan never knows how to keep his mouth shut for long. He takes the bottle, swigging from it before he holds it out.

"You call the shots, I'm just here to drink. And keep you company until you pass out. Bet you sleep like a drunken little angel."

"I do not." He is the manliest man in this house, don't you dare tell him otherwise. Taking the bottle from Negan, Doc takes a longer drink from it and huffs a sigh.

"Do I look like I need the company?" he asks quietly.

"Uh-huh." Hey, he's sitting next to he guy with the biggest nutsack in the house... he'd argue manliest.

"Yeah, well... maybe just a little bit. Are you saying you don't?"

"Your company's alright when you don't talk." Big praise coming from Doc, that is. Even if it is the equivalent of shut up, sit there and look pretty.

"You are awful persistent, Negan." Most people would not have been as gracious to put up with Doc's prickliness.

"Well, goddamn, that's a hell of a compliment coming from you." He always looks pretty though, in his very modest fucking opinion.

He gives an easy grin. "Always. You have to be to get whatever it is you want. I mean, you might still only get the equivalent of a kick to the nutsack, but at least you know you tried, right?"

"I have oft entertained the thought." Of kicking Negan in the nutsack, that is. But even Doc wouldn't play so dirty as to knowingly and willingly do that to another man.

"Do you even know what you want?" he asks quietly, taking another drink and screwing the lid back on. They're not yet done for the night, but sitting on the floor in their little pillow and blanket nest, accidents are going to be inevitable.

"Oh, that is cold." Negan needs to teach him the fine art of nut tapping if he wants to play those sorts of games... or maybe not. He doesn't really want random whacks to the crotch.

That-- is a hard question to answer actually. He contemplates not touching on it at all, changing the topic, but... "Do you mean in a general sense or with you?"

Yeaaaah no it might not be a good idea. Doc could probably crack a tea towel like a whip if he knew that that is what people do in kitchens and Negan would not want him doing that anywhere near his crotch.

"Pfffuh," Doc scoffs. "What could you possibly want with me? I have nothing to offer." Apart from a room perhaps that was not even his to give, and he has given it to Negan anyway.

Clearly, no one needs to teach Doc any modern antics for the safety of balls and asses everywhere out there.

He lets out a laugh as he reaches for the bottle of Moonshine. "I'm a good judge of people, you know. Have to be back home since I'm the top guy in charge. I think you're selling yourself mighty short there."

But it was a general question, huh? Shit. "In general... I want things to work. I want to keep people safe and alive. That's true here and back home. Whatever fucked up things I might have to do along the way to accomplish it, that's alright with me."

"I think we are... in agreement, on that." Doc would be willing to go to great lengths to see that happen. So far they have managed okay, but he's pretty sure this is just the calm before the impending storm.

"I would appreciate it, if you could keep an eye on Malcolm, and Neal. Should we ever... disappear again. 'tis not a small ask, I know. But I would be in your debt." Besides, it's the least Negan should do, after Neal cooked up such a storm a few nights ago.

"I will, but you don't have to ask. You guys-- you're my people, same as the guys back home are my people. We don't keep an eye out for each other-- well, we might as well already be fucked. And not in the good way." He reaches over to give Doc a quick, friendly thump on the shoulder.

"Although I'd appreciate the hell out of it if you didn't up and disappear again. Somehow I doubt any of us are gonna get that wish though." Shit happens pretty unpredictably around here after all.

"Yeah, well. I hadn't planned on that." If Raylan hadn't come along it would have been worse, honestly. Raylan inadvertently left his hat where it was spotted by Malcolm and Neal. That probably made things easier.

"After... the museum." He feels comfortable talking about this with Negan. Probably only with Negan. "I told everyone again not to come looking for me if I ever vanished." It was the responsible thing to do. It was the right thing to do.

"I guess this place just isn't gonna let me die alone and in peace," he quips.

"I think if either of us was gonna mutate into something freaky from that, we'd have done it. Or felt sick at least." He shrugs his shoulders. It was the right thing to do, depending on perspective.

"Besides I know guys like Malcolm. Hell, can you believe he called an asshole like me kind? Don't think he'd listen if you told him to leave you missing, no matter what. Don't think he has it in him. Don't think the others do either." Not really, not from what he's seen.

He snorts out a laugh. "Plenty of time to be alone when you're actually dead, Doc."

"Maybe whatever is in there is... not as dangerous, as we thought." There was probably a reason why the place fell into ruin. Just- not that particular reason.

"You probably grew on him when you looked after him in the Boarding House." It's true though - nobody in their house would just leave them well alone.

"Is that why you're here? Are you lonely?"

"Maybe. I don't want to test the theory out though, do you?" Because something was off about that place. Something was just... wrong. Maybe not the spores, but--

"Yeah, well..." Somebody had to do it and Negan could take a few hits, even if the guy nearly took his head off with a fucking poker. He still managed to reach him in the end, at least.

"I'm a grown ass man," he counters at that question, no matter how it might be the truth in some way.

"... I can't stand the quiet, the emptiness. Being alone with yourself is just--" he trails off before shaking his head. He's not about to get into a fucking pity party here.

"Anyway, why do you stay?"

"No I am fine with never going back there again. Or underground." There are still plenty of other places he can visit to spend his time in.

He understands though. That need to have company. That insatiable craving. He has spent many nights with company. The mind goes to terrible places when he's alone.

"Raylan found me camping outdoors." Very little difference between that and sleeping rough on the streets but at least it wasn't snowing back then. "I just haven't moved out since. I don't-- much like spending my nights alone either. At least he doesn't charge by the hour."

The mind goes very terrible fucking places and, in Negan's case, he can't afford it. He doesn't get to have a crisis of conscience now. He's got to be the badass with Lucille who'll take no shit. Not that he can say he's not feeling the strain of it here, seeing how all these assholes work together, how they don't need a Negan to keep them in line.

"Man, good thing he dragged you in before the weather change." Doc would be significantly less attractive a frozen popsicle.

"I mean, always a fucking plus." He lets out a laugh. "The women I got back home-- they agreed to it for the perks. They sleep with me, they get pampered and protected, never have to see the ugly stuff. I get to brag about having multiple wives. Not that they really are, but at least I don't have to spend the nights alone."

He'll admit that to Doc because hell, he's already seen the bad parts. What's a few more? "You ever think of moving on?"

Doc would have been fine on his own all this time, still. At least, he thinks so. But he probably would have moved into the Boarding House or something by now. He doesn't have anything to prove to anyone, being able to handle shit alone or otherwise.

He shouldn't be surprised by Negan's admission but anything he could have said about it would have sounded ugly anyway. There's no justifying that kind of thing any way you try and cut it. Doc had met plenty of desperate women in his time, but. To take advantage of it in this way is a little more despicable than even Doc Holliday could muster.

Difficult as it is to think he wasn't there and cannot judge fairly, at least Doc doesn't say anything to tell Negan to leave.

"I would not be your wife," he clarifies, clearing his throat as he tugs on the edge of the blanket further up his lap. So don't get any funny ideas, Negan. "...and I don't really know where I would be moving on to."

Hell, is it any better or worse than the lives he's taken to keep his people safe? And they can leave any time they please, go back to work, no repercussions. Or maybe those are all things he tells himself to justify it.

"Well, shit... that's too bad. You'd have made a damn pretty addition." There's a laugh as he watches Doc yank his blanket up. But right now? Negan's going for another swig from that bottle, not grabbing for anything else.

"But no... I think I'm not interested in that shit, not here. That was just all part-- the show I needed to put out there so people knew not to fuck with me. But hey, if you ever need a helping hand sometime... Fucking around is one of the only universal comforts in this damn life."

He's got to, Doc. Sorry. "Anyway, seems like they like you here. No reason to go moving on for no reason, not if this shit still works for you."

"You wouldn't even have known my name," he retorts. And he's got his own hand that he knows what to do with. Even if it's not the same when you're with someone else. For as much as he does enjoy sleeping around, Doc hasn't been as... prolific here. Different urges when it comes with dealing with different priorities, maybe. Or maybe he's just a little trigger shy with strangers after getting Wynonna pregnant.

"Do you even know how to-..." Doc makes a face and shakes his head. "Treat another man right?" Yeah, he's going with that phrasing. It would make sense that only a man would know how to 'treat another man right' but he can't imagine someone like Negan having spent much time... experimenting.

"Raylan needs the help, with Malcolm. I would stay, at the very least until he finds the medication he needs." And then... he would probably find another reason to stay. But right now he's sticking with that story. The one where Doc gets to be helpful and responsible.

"Is that what you think? Trust me, I'd have known your name. Probably offered you a hell of a good position in my group. Not as a wife." But if he's Doc fucking Holliday? You can bet your sweet ass he'd not have gone unnoticed.

"Do I know how to--" He wrinkles his nose before he huffs out a laugh. That was such a fucking uptight way to ask. "Guess you could ask Klaus. He seemed like he felt pretty treated right."

Guys aren't his first choice, but hell. Doesn't take a genius to know how to jerk someone else off when you've got the same equipment. "Sex is sex, man. Fleeting, pleasurable... our bodies are hardwired to seek it out."

He gives a dismissive wave of his hand, going quiet as he listens to Doc carry on his reasons for staying.

The answer seems to satisfy that curiosity. "You're a good man, Doc."

Doc would have probably made for pretty fun and safe company in amidst all that bleakness. Found a way to still dress up even though it's the end of the world as they know it. Take things one harrowing day at a time and still come out on top, if Lady Luck is on his side.

"Kl- I do not want to know what you do with--... whomever you fancy." Wow. Klaus? ...wow.

"...were you two... at the- dinner?"

You need that in at the end of the goddamn world. So many miserable bastards... maybe that's why they're drawn to him, why they're drawn to a guy who calls himself the fucking king and keeps a pet tiger. People need shit that stands out sometimes, something to rally around in all that insanity.

"Hey, you asked! I answered, man." Can't give him grief for it now, can he? Well, obviously he fucking can, but it's a bit unfair in Negan's opinion.

"Mm, he might've made it under my covers that night... a little unexpectedly, but hey. We'd met up before that too, hung out not long after I got here. One thing led to another, you know? None of it's a huge deal, just a bit of fun."

030-035 » a-hunting they will go

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