001-003 » a chilling mathias welcome

[villagemod]

WHO: Everyone.
WHERE: The east end of Mathias, along the waterfront.
WHEN: Days 001-003
WHAT: The newest residents of Mathias Township are welcomed with a storm.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. PM this account to have a warning added!
NOTES: A small love letter from your mod. This spot can be used for plotting.

RECOMMENDED ♫ Deadly Avenger "Mara"

DAY 001
THE ARRIVAL BEGINS

Is it the whooshing crash of waves on dark jagged rocks that wakes you? Perhaps. It might also be the near-continuous rumble of thunder growing closer every second, the vibrations almost seeming to come from the wet sand beneath your hands. Or maybe it’s the shivering of your own body as water recedes from the pebble-covered shore, the cold sinking into your very bones as a chilled wind picks up. It could be any of these things that rouse you from a deep slumber that leaves you feeling groggy and out of sorts--

But it’s the fear that gets you moving. A deep, intense terror grips your chest and squeezes the breath right out of you, and you know without a shred of doubt that you have mere minutes before whatever it is you’re so afraid of arrives on that stretch of rocky beach to greet you. Even if you want to stay rooted to that spot and faced it head-on, your body betrays you, a survival instinct etched into your genetic code forcing you to seek shelter.

Welcome to Mathias. You should probably run now.



THE STORM ARRIVES

When the storm crashes into the small township, it's hard to remember what life was like before it. The ocean becomes a raging thing, waves rising and falling as if trying to attack whatever they can reach along the coast. Any foolish enough to venture along the beach have no hope of surviving the encounter; their bodies will be swept out with the current, gone in the blink of an eye.

The wind is a howling beast, screaming between buildings and driving spikes of cold into any crevice it can reach. The rain is just shy of freezing, every drop like a shard of icicle trying to itself into your skin. It will bite at your nerves and leave you shaking if you stay out in it too long, so you had best get inside if you haven't already. You certainly don't want to attract the attention of the lightning that arcs in the sky like a vengeful god ready to unleash its wrath.

The Grey Gull restaurant sits at the edge of the town along the beach, and just a few yards away are two parallel rows of houses lining what might be a picturesque street if the world weren't beginning to resemble an apocalyptic landscape.

Move quickly, and choose wisely.

DAY 002
THE STORM RAGES ON

The storm has somehow become even more violent overnight. The world outside your shelter might be trapped in an endless night, for all you can see through the thick covering of storm clouds. Lightning continues to streak across the sky, thunder following almost immediately in its wake, threatening just how near those spikes of electricity truly are. You can see them touch the shore at times, even the street between the homes, but never the buildings themselves. A blessing, perhaps, or an oddity to take note of?

Some may be foolish enough to try venturing outside. They are welcome to, of course, that is their right, but the rain is still like ice and that lightning is so very near. You may try heading further into town, and you can certainly see buildings beyond this row of houses, but should you walk toward them...

Well. It is far from a pleasant experience. Exhaustion sinks into your bones so quickly that it leaves you reeling, and every second you push through it makes you physically ill with a feeling that you might collapse at any moment. The second you turn away from that path, however, you feel infinitely, and even more so each step back the way you came.

Something wants you to stay where you are. Perhaps you should.

DAY 003
THE CALM DESCENDS

The third day begins much as the second, with waves crashing upon the shore and thunder booming with such force that the ground seems to shake. It feels very much like the world might end right there, torn apart by a force of nature unlike any seen before. Any who venture outside at this time are almost immediately afflicted with a terror so intense that they can make it no more than a few yards or the short distance to cross a street before they become incapacitated by the fear that sets their heart beating dangerously fast. The term scared to death may very well become literal this day.

And then, suddenly it stops. The rain, thunder, lighting— all if it just stops and the silence that fills the night is deafening. There are no sounds of life within the town, no car motors or dogs barking or the voices of anyone beside those new arrivals in the immediate vicinity. In fact, none of those things even exist in Mathias. There are no cars, no animals or insects, no other people. There is just... emptiness and silence.

It may be best to wait until daylight to move further inland.



THE NIGHT DARKENS

For those who are foolish enough to leave the relative safety of the cluster of houses near the Grey Gull, they will find their journey quite chilling, in a very literal sense. There is another row of houses beyond where they had been, branching off on either side into a neighborhood. There are no lights on in any of these homes, though there are occasional streetlights illuminating their way. But as they continue further, reaching a third block of houses, those lights begin to dim, until they have gone out completely, and what had previously been a simple fall chill becomes biting cold as the temperature sharply drops.

In all of this, there is silence. No sounds travel through that night air to comfort them, and even looking up to the sky stretched out above them offers little reassurance. That sky is black, without a single star and not even the faintest outline of the moon to guide them. All that reaches them here is the barest hint of light traveling from the way they've come. The longer they linger outside in this place, the colder it will become, and any light they carry with them will slowly begin to dim as well.

Truly, they should have waited until the sun rose once more.

---

LOCATIONS

THE GREY GULL is what one might expect of the most frequented restaurant in a small coastal town. The wrap-around porch is lined with white chairs characterized by peeling paint. Exposed wooden walls and worn seating speak to its many years of existence, and the mishmash of décor confirms that the owner never much cared for how the place looked. What mattered here was the food, and faded chalk menus advertise soup specials and a daily pie. The bar appears to have once been well-stocked, but all the bottles remaining are unfortunately empty. There is, however, quite a bit of food in the kitchen that is somehow as fresh as if it were purchased that day.

The second floor of the restaurant is a sparsely furnished apartment. There are no personal items to be found; perhaps it was waiting to be rented out to someone.

THE HOUSES are well-kept, middle-class homes, four lining either side of the street. Their doors are unlocked, windows unshuttered, and everything within feels like the owners might return at any second. There is running water and electricity, fresh food in the fridge, photographs on the wall... but also dust everywhere. If you didn't know better, you'd say the place had been abandoned for years, and yet nothing has aged. It is both strange and unsettling, and yet no matter how hard you search, no answers may be found within these homes.

What can be found within them, however, is a phone. One single black phone within a main room of the house, and beside it, a list of handwritten numbers and names that have been crossed out.

1302 8-5491 Thomasen
1304 8-9256 Lyrie
1306 8-4712 Anders
1308 8-3201 Mulcalley

1301 8-0415 Sanderson
1303 8-6762 Reese
1305 8-9132 Evers
1307 8-9025 Hirano

Should your character choose to shelter in one of the houses, you are welcome to choose the features of that particular unit. Please reply to the comment thread below with the details you decide upon, specifying the house number in the subject line.

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[Open] Day 3: THE CALM DESCENDS / THE NIGHT DARKENS

[waywardsister]

[ Before her excursion with Coulson, Claire can be found in her home, and briefly at the Grey Gull while looking for Five. She'll be exploring her own house while the calm descends, and will eventually go to the Grey Gull, where she meets up with Coulson and leaves to attempt to explore the further neighbourhood. ]

---

[ After the ill-fated excursion with Coulson and after touching base with Five, Claire spends some time in her house refusing to answer phone calls or open the door, and then makes her way to the Grey Gull, still in the dead of night. She won't approach people, but she seems to be huddling into her clothes, slender fingers pale and shaking, looking like she could keel over from a mild breeze, and is in dire need of warmth... and perhaps some company, desite that guarded, stand-offish look in her eyes. ]

@ Grey Gull

[thering]

[Doc is gathering some supplies from the Grey Gull to prepare for his spending the night out in the wilderness. At first he didn't notice it in the heavy downpour, but it's become fairly obvious that there are several more questionable things about this town. Perhaps the domesticated dogs and cats had been taken along whatever ride the previous occupants of the town had ventured on, but. There was no birdsong at dawn. There are no earthworms to feed those birds. Nor were there cobwebs in untouched corners of abandoned houses. No flies came to bother the food in the Grey Gull. Or ants. Or cockroaches. The rot in the wood attracted no termites to roost.

It would be an odd night spent alone outdoors, but perhaps a safer one if there are no wild animals to worry about.

With his head lowered and line of sight obscured by the rim of his hat, holding a can in each hand, lost in the mental checklist of supplies he would need for the night's excursion, he didn't pay enough attention to even notice she was there when he turned and walked straight into her.]

Oh, I'm- terribly sorry ma'am. [He quickly sets the canned food down and reaches out to touch her upper arm, tilting his hat back with his other hand.] Are you alright?

we'll go with before excursion - please forgive her stand-off-ishness ;)

[waywardsister]

[ Ma'am? Jeez, what is it with this town being full of seriously old men.

Sam and Dean Winchester would be in good company here. As it stands, looks like Ellie and her are outnumbered. Unfair is what it is.

And of course it would be another cowboy. How original. Claire gives him a slightly thin lipped smile. There's no open agression in her, though he might notice a certain tension to her shoulders, a certain hardening of her eyes. She's on guard, and doesn't assume the best of people. ]

I've hard worse. Don't really do the touchy feely with strangers or old men, though. Less when it's both.

[ Pointed look - that would be her cue for him to remove that hand again. ]

no worries!

[thering]

[He takes his hand off her swiftly and takes just a small step back without colliding into any furniture or walls, creating just a little bit of space between them. He is probably the oldest man here at about 166 years old so there is no offence to be taken, really.

Taking his hat off, he holds it against his chest and inclines his head.]

This old man stranger's name is Henry. And I do apologise if I come across as harbouring any ill intentions. [His smile is as warm and unassuming as he can manage. Taking another step to the side, he puts a respectable distance between strangers between them, though he's not getting out of her hair just yet. He was merely perusing the supplies, with no intention of hoarding them either.]

[waywardsister]

[ Claire's posture relaxes when he steps back - less because of the distance itself and more because he wasn't difficult about it. Hunters don't really tend to travel in the higher class circles - she's used to dive bars and cheap motels, to guys overstepping and needing be handled - either on her own behalf or for someone else. Among each other, thankfully, hunters tend to have one another's backs.

Ironically, it's the civilians and not the hard, rough and tumble hunter community, that tends to get troublesome. ]

Claire.

[ She worries her lip between her teeth - when the hard edges bleed out of her posture she looks more her age. Young, just about 20. ]

Sorry. My manners aren't super well developed.

[ Claire shrugs. What are you gonna do, right. Well, she could try harder, for one, but honestly. Who even has the willpower for that? ]

Well. Not a stranger anymore I guess. [ She grins, cheeky. ] Still an old man, though. You look like you're straight out of a Western.

[thering]

[Well, she hadn't drawn on him or thrown a fist at his face so all things considered, by his standards she's doing just fine.]

Heh. [His smile widens and he ducks his head as he slides his hat back on. She has no idea how old is old.] I've been told that once or twice. [Just because the world has changed around him doesn't mean that he should be picking up all the bad habits that are plaguing the modern world.]

Ma'am I was hoping, on that account, you could help me, if you don't mind. [He picks up a paper cup wrapped in plastic and holds it out in front of her.] What is a... 'cup a soup'? Does this go in the microwave?

[waywardsister]

[ To be fair, Claire not throwing a punch is a pretty polite day for her.

At the cup though, her eyebrows go up.

Seriously? What is he - time traveler? Or just much richer than he looks and seriously out of touch? Or perhaps just not human...

Claire smirks, tempers her suspicions. Jody taught her not to see a hunt everywhere she looks - well, for the most part. ]

Nah. Soup's powdered - you poor hot water inside, then stir it up. You seriously never had one of those?

[thering]

I see. Like instant coffee? [Doc's at least heard of or perhaps even tasted instant coffee, it seems. He doesn't look like he sees, though, turning the cup upside down and inspecting the bottom of it before turning it upright again. He can hear the powder inside sliding along the walls of the cup.]

Canned soup, I am more familiar with. [That's actually remarkable enough, for him. Canned anything allowed them to travel much further than they ever could before between townships. But it was also heavy, so it was not without its limitations.]

I shall have to try this. Thank you. [It's so light, he's still feeling a little doubtful, but he is moving around her to get a kettle of water going so it seems he's willing to try.]

...would you like one? [Is it appropriate to offer or does that give off creepy old man vibes?]

[waywardsister]

[ It's cold out. Truth be told... soup doesn't sound half-bad. And Claire's a notoriously terrible cook. She tries, but. Well. A housewive she was never meant to be. Alas. ]

You know what? Sure, why not. Let's have some soup.

[ She's smiling by now.

Totally not because he reminds her of Castiel, that impossible doofus. But the fish out of water thing? Well, it's almost charmingly in need of help. ]

[thering]

[Two cups a soups it is. He fills the kettle up to the highest line to make sure there's enough water. There's at least some level of familiarity with a modern kettle, although maybe he had received some instructions one day, or maybe he had melted a plug in type on top of a stove before.

Then it's just a matter of removing the packaging and tearing the lids back halfway while they wait for the water. He might be a bit more traditional, but Doc is actually quite relieved that they're dealing with a 20th or 21st century problem rather than a 19th century one. He has become quite accustomed to these small comforts and conveniences.]

Have you had a chance to explore the town, ma'am? Truth be told I was in the midst of packing for a short excursion. [Maybe just for a night, closer towards the forest. What could possibly go wrong?]

( outside the gull )

[hellblaze]

[ Well, just because John will tell other people to not go adventuring at night, doesn't mean he won't go poking his head around when and where he can. Not that he can really see much out in the dark. All people might see of him at first is the sway of a long trenchcoat at night and a lit cigarette. He traces his steps back to the Grey Gull, intending to look at things with a fresh pair of eyes. Given now that he's slept, eaten a bit, and has some sweet sweet nicotine in his system.

He steps up to the front door and peaks inside. Loads of people inside. He can wait till it thins out a bit then. He turns to lean against the beams and tilt his head back. ]

after the excursion - I am sorry, we're doing THIS mistake again

[waywardsister]

[ It's dark, and cold.

She's fine - she knows she is, in most parts of her mind. She made it inside, Coulson too. She warned Five.

Claire likes being alone, usually.

Claire prefers being alone, usually.

Right now... right now she wants Jody, truth be told. She wants Jody and Alex and even Patience. Hell, the Winchesters.

Cas, too, to be honest. She'd... she'd be okay with that, she thinks, despite everything. They're her people, all of them, and she needs... right now she needs people, and she doesn't think she'll really find what she needs her, because here... here, there are people, but not family.

Her steps are stiff and slow, arms wrapped form around herself.

The first thing she sees is the shape of a trenchcoat, and her heart nearly chokes the breath out of her throat, nearly leaps so hard it shatters her ribs that surely, she thinks, are pure ice by now, no trace of bone left.

She's held dead bodies before. She wonders if this is what it feels like to die, being this cold.

Claire gasps, quiet and soft through the sound of chattering teeth. ]

C---Cas?

[ But then she sees the cigarette glow, and mutters a 'fuck' as her shoulders slump, realization setting in.

The one time she wanted the shape to be the angel, and yet she's disappointed once again.

What John will see emerging from the darkness is a young woman, no older than in her earliest twenties, long blonde hair and blue eyes that are rimmed red and a little too wet, lips nearly blue and pale shivering fingers clutching her leather jacket close around herself, slightly hunched over. Her breath comes in puffs of white. ]

but now the mistake is game canon!

[hellblaze]

[ John hears the shuffle of someone moving around. He stays perfectly still, waiting for whatever it is to come out. Part of him is hoping it's some damn demon so he can punch it and take out a bit of frustrations.

That isn't what he sees though.

In fact, he doesn't even hear her mistake his identity. Namely because he's taking the sight of her in. She looks like she's near hypothermia. While most might not find him the most humanitarian? He knows the look of someone who has run into something they shouldn't have. Something that has reached out and touched someone and left its mark. So, in an instant, John Constantine is in front of her with the cigarette between his fingers, pointing it away from her as he places his hands on her shoulders. ]

Hey, hey, easy now, luv. [ No doubt she'll recognize his voice in an instant from that phone call of theirs. He's got no idea as of now. ] Let's get you inside and warmed up, yeah?

\o/

[waywardsister]

[ The voice is familiar, but her thoughts are sluggish. Takes a moment to piece it together even as she lets him put his hand on her shoulder. She'd shrug it off usually - for not other reason than that Claire likes to act tough, and has had a youth of little physical affection since all her legal guardians died and left. It's taken her a while to get used to how much her current found family hugs.

The hand is warm, though, and John will feel that she is cold through and through. ]

Sounds good, Potter.

[ no bite or mirth to her voice. Claire just sounds tired. ]

this is wholesome, thank you <3

[hellblaze]

[ It's one thing to be cold with the clothes, but to the touch? That sends more alarm bells ringing in his head. Though it's cut a bit short when she calls him by name. ]

The faceless solicitor! [ He gives her a quick smirk and wink, trying to hide the worry that's behind it. There's a quick glance to go behind her before turning, his arm going around her shoulders to lead her into the Grey Gull.

He remembers there is a fireplace downstairs. Which is exactly where he plans to lead her to. John can already imagine the magical jokes that are going to be popping up here soon. ]

[waywardsister]

The... oh. Yes. That... that's me. The faceless...

[ She can't get solicitor over her lips, teeth chattering. The track from her house to the Gull had taken pretty much everything she got. Right now she's more than glad to be led, even if she hates relying on others usually.

Faceless still fits though. Claire feels like the cold has just stripped her of all her masks and she hates that. ]

Don't explore... at night. C-cold. So cold...

[hellblaze]

[ An eyebrow raises at her statement, but doesn't question her further. For now. The main focus is to get her warmed up and feeling as secure as she's going to be. He sits her down at the unlit fireplace. Then, off comes his trenchcoat and draped around her shoulders.

He places a few pieces of food into the fireplace. Another long drag is taken off the cigarette until barely anything is left. A puff later he has flicked the bud into the fireplace and snapped his fingers. It comes to life almost instantly, crackling, filling the room with a warm light.

John, however, seems far more annoyed by the display then. There's a sneer sent up to the ceiling. Because yes, clearly, the Almighty is at fault for his issues with magic. ]

Right, sure. Light a bloody fire with no problem.

[ He sighs before shaking his head and deciding to sit down beside Claire. ]

[waywardsister]

[ If Claire notices the display of magic, there's little indication of it. Shaking fingers curls around the edges of a body-warmed trench coat, and something just... cracks, perhaps.

Everything is happening too much, and she's tried to be non-stop since arriving here, searching every nook of her house twice, calling people on the landlines, exploring, pushing, going.

Anything and everything to avoid thinking about the feeling of Kaia's still warm but cooling hand slipping out of hers, running through the portal and instead of being able to collapse into the arms of her found family, coming here...

And now there's a trench coat around her shoulders, and she remembers her mother dying in her arms, she remembers seeing something otherworldly staring back from her father's blue eyes, so cold and alien years ago, and much warmer and sorrowful lately, and there's a level of shit that will never be quite perfectly okay between them, things Cas has taken from her he'll never be able to make right, but she forgave him and his stupid good intentions, and now she actually misses him and she just wants to go home, but she's here, cold and miserable and unable to do anything.

The tears roll silently, and Claire just presses the heels of her hand against her eyes, willing them to stop, because it's the wrong place and the wrong time and the wrong trench coat. ]

[hellblaze]

[ He looks over at her to see the tears that roll down her face. Whatever it was she found out there in the dark? He doubts it's the cause -- maybe the last straw though. It's a look he recognizes because he wears something similar when no one is around. John makes himself comfortable as possible, sitting so his hands can rest in his lap over his knees. ]

Y'know, [ oh, he is shite at being comforting, ] sometimes lowering that guard just a bit to air it all out helps that stiff upper lip. Even soldiers need time to sit and... take it all in, process, and adjust. Not everyone is at their best all the time.

[ He leans towards her a bit with his eyebrows raised. John's voice is at a comfortably low tone, intending whatever might be said or not said to be private. ]

So, go on then. Let whatever it is out so you can process what you'll find in the morning.

[torsion]

[ Jill is taking a load off right now and trying to get in a bit of rest. Not sleep, just a moment of respite; she's too wired. The P30 is still in her veins, not yet expelled. She's not even sure how her sleep might go... or if it even will come to her. She knows what will wait for her in dreams, so she's certainly not eager to get to that point.

Loss echoes in her bones and haunts her when awake or asleep. The reality of what has happened in the past and present can't be shaken off. No going back, only forward. Further and further away from the little apartment she'd loved so well in downtown Raccoon City. Away from Chris.

She tries her damnedest to forget the position that she was in when she'd just arrived here. It couldn't be death.

Jill finds the remedy to drifting thoughts is often company and she makes a point of seeking it out. Claire feels familiar to her even though she doesn't know her, not really. The quick wit, she supposes, is soothing in some ways. Keeps her on her toes. She notices the younger woman seems to be less lively and perhaps worried? Jill isn't sure but it seems like something is up, something that's shifted her demeanor. She'll be soft about it.

She approaches casually, tilting her head up and faintly raising a hand in greeting. ]

Hey. How's it going?

[waywardsister]

[ It takes a moment for Claire to lift her head, eyes rising. The usually so vibrant blue seems almost pale, glassy. Slightly red-rimmed, a little too wet. It looks like Jill's gentle probing has pulled her away from deep thoughts, and Claire sits up a little more, clearing her throat. ]

It's...

[ Claire bristles against authority, truth be told. Bristles against people asking about her, too - it's a defense mechanism. But she's cold, and it feels like holding a body that has lost all its warmth.

Her shoulders slump. ]

It's very cold outside.

[ Her teeth chatter for a moment on the word 'cold' until she clamps down on that. ]

Was out with someone, tried to explore. Didn't go so well.

[torsion]

[ Thoughts or the lack of them is what Jill figures. Sometimes you needed to tune everything out, including yourself. She's not sure how much to pry and how much to let her give away; Jill's used to interrogation over discussion.

Jill takes a spot beside her rather than stands. She doesn't want to put any pressure on this or suggest she's ready to dart away. Settling in, she pulls her legs to her chest and wraps her arms around her legs, chin on her knees. ]

It is. [ Jill looks a little toward her, though without lifting her head. Polite and interested but not inspecting. ] Because of the cold or...?

[ Were people other than those that arrived the same as her here? Was there something out in that darkness? ]

[waywardsister]

[ Oh, Claire wishes that there'd been something out there in the dark. Something to stab, something to punch, something to make hurt for everything going on here. But there'd only been them, and the dark, and the cold. ]

Just the cold...

[ She shakes her head, presses her lips together. ]

It... kept getting worse. The longer we were out. Just... kept getting colder.

[ Even now she shivers at the mere memory, as if she's still feeling the chill of that cold deep in her bones. ]

[torsion]

[ She listens carefully, expecting something more. It's hard to console against nature, against weather. Especially when you're not in position to offer warmth. She wishes she at least had a coat that she could lift over the younger woman's shoulders or a blanket.

Jill pauses, thinking it over. It sounds like it's wrong somehow. ]

It shouldn't do that. I can't imagine where it is that we are that it can get that cold and there's no snow. How we can... [ She moves her hand in a semi-circle, gesturing vaguely while she talks. ] How we can handle it otherwise. It should be impossibly cold everywhere.

[ She hesitates because she's in the same damn position as Claire, but maybe that's more reason to offer it. ]

Are you alright?

[waywardsister]

[ If only it'd just been weather. Claire suspects this cold is nothing normal - or rather, the way the temperature behaved? Definitely something else involved. But nothing palpable enough. ]

'm fine.

[ She's not. ]

I thought ghosts, at first. Sudden cold spots... typical ghost stuff. But... nothing. Just cold. Feels like my bones froze...