The Village Mod (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
villagemod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
villagelogs2020-10-03 08:52 pm
villagemod) wrote in villagelogs2020-10-03 08:52 pm
Entry tags:
- *overview log,
- doc holliday (wynonna earp),
- ellie (the last of us),
- raylan givens (justified),
- ~ claire novak (supernatural),
- ~ daisy johnson (marvel live action),
- ~ jill valentine (resident evil),
- ~ john constantine (dc live action),
- ~ kylo ren (star wars),
- ~ max guevara (dark angel),
- ~ number five (the umbrella academy),
- ~ phil coulson (marvel live action),
- ~ rey (star wars)
001-003 » a chilling mathias welcome
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"
navigation | faq | setting | mod contact
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 8-5491Thomasen
1304 8-9256Lyrie
1306 8-4712Anders
1308 8-3201Mulcalley
1301 8-0415Sanderson
1303 8-6762Reese
1305 8-9132Evers
1307 8-9025Hirano
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.
no subject
Not having given his clothes much time or air to dry out, the fabric is clinging to his skin by the time he makes it indoors to the closest house and pulling the door shut behind him. Half-formed questions amble in circles around his head like shambling ghouls as he tries to fight off the kind of chill that bites to the bone, the kind of aching weariness that he hasn't felt since he was mortal. There's no time to be weary.
With his hat tipped he's dripping an uneven rhythm of water droplets onto the photograph he'd peeled from the fridge. There's no date. No note on the back. Pruned fingertips dance over the faces when he hears an unexpected sound coming from behind in between the claps and rumbles of thunder. Instinct takes over and Doc grabs a fridge magnet, left leg shifting back half a step. He spins and throws the ceramic ornament aiming straight for the head, realising half a second too late that it's just a kid.
no subject
He needed more clues however, and at this time he kept finding none. No glass eyeball to hang on to like a lifeline. Not even a date, an old newsprint.
Nothing. He's angrier by the time he jumps into the same house Doc chose, soaked to the bone, jaw clenched to keep his teeth from rattling.
It takes him a split moment longer than usual to notice the silhouette by the fridge, wide rimmed hat leaving puddles on the hardwood floor. It takes a even second longer before the sharp motion registers and Five drops to the floor in a crouch. The magnet just manages to nick the top of his head before clattering against the wall behind him, and when he straightens himself out, he's rubbing the spot with a quickly forming scowl.
It isn't that Five blames the reaction. To be fair, it bordered on reasonable given the circumstances, and he was being way less careful than he should. The whole thing was a miscalculation based on assumption that this house was as empty as the rest.
"Yeah, screw you too," Five grinds out, unhappy at the fact that he nearly ate a magnet.
no subject
"Are you alright, son? May I take a look? I am- was, a doctor." Still is, he thinks, but times have changed and many of the old ways have fallen out of favour. A little bump though shouldn't need any old or new ways to come right.
He's too focused on their little mishap to notice that the doors and windows are still closed, but there will most definitely be questions in a minute.
i,,,am so sorry
Listen, rationally, sure. It makes sense. Grown adults see someone who looks like he just got out of boarding school, they're going to have a reaction.
But Five is past the point of rational, because his pride smarts more than the silly little bruised scalp. Because he's had two long fucking weeks, his family is hell knows where, and this wasn't helping any of it and Doc's display is so sincere that it's laughable. Not only does Five not need it, he doesn't deserve the concern reserved for actual children. He's lived too long and done too much for that to be true. "You try and get down to my level any more than that and I'm taking out your kneecaps," he glowers, hinging just a touch forward with narrowed eyes and a serrated smile.
"I'm sure there's plenty out there who need your expertise, doc, but my head's just fine," less sharp than the previous threat, but no less pointed because there is no part of him that wants to be fussed over right now.
it's fine
"You came out of nowhere," he explains, placing his hands on his hips above where his empty gun holsters dangle uselessly by his sides. "You-" Doc cuts himself off and looks around, eyebrows furrowed. He's pretty sure he checked all the rooms, and there's a trail of water on the floorboards to prove it. There was no one else here.
"How... did you get in?"
honestly loving this cr already btw!
Here is the thing, as he considers his answer and the man in front of him. Right now was a choice of showing his hand, or not. His hostility is a knee jerk reaction, sure, but he's never been terribly cagey about his powers. Childhood in the limelight, and all that. So, he'd prefer to get this out of the way faster than not.
Besides, someone else's reaction wasn't going to be his problem, and hey, Doc asked.
So Five makes a decision, and with a resigned sigh, he steps forward and is gone in a blink. Only to reappear on the other of the room with a quiet pop of his powers: "Simple spatial displacement."
he is so perplexed by this angry little kid 😆
Doc backs up until his butt collides loudly and awkwardly with the fridge, clutching onto his hat before it gets bumped off his head.
"Wh- What in tarnation?" He almost gave Doc a heart attack. He's seen some strange, unnatural, demonic-attributed occurrences before but that takes the cake. Giving the empty spot where the young man once stood a serious side-eye, Doc points at it, and then turns and points at where the young man is standing now.
"You- you were there... and then... you are here..." Give him a few minutes. He's not the brightest crayon in the box.
🤣
For all the temptation of going at things alone, knowing faces was starting to mean something again, with Elliot's face coming bitterly to mind. He was, of course, a long shot away from trusting anyone in this place, from the handful of people he met here thus far. But their entrapment implied a common goal. And while no one here could ever replace the absolute shitshow of a family (that was finally starting to realize that they were stronger together) this was a start. Knowing a doctor could come in very handy, after all.
"No superpowers where you're from, cowboy?" Even if the questions sounds facetious, there's an underlying curiosity. Amidst the similarly phrased questions he'd managed to ask the others already, the common thread was fast forming.
no subject
For what it's worth, the little demonstration has made Doc a little more willing to open up about the encounters he's had back home. He usually isn't so forthcoming about the strange events in Purgatory - the town that is, not the waiting room people purportedly go when they die.
"There are demons who are capable of all manner of things. Witches, too. Dark magic." And then there's... himself. Not the most natural or normal occurrence, either. That card however, he is still playing close to the chest.
"My name is Henry," he offers. He hardly thinks they can get through this ordeal calling each other 'cowboy' or 'son'.
no subject
Or rather, this was the likely truth to this man's world. It didn't seem as though he was lying. It was clear enough that this was a vast oversimplification, but it wasn't like Five was going around spilling out his heart, either. More than fine by him. "Huh. Can't say I've heard that one much before."
"...Name's Five," he says, and thinks nothing of it as he offers a hand, having taken some casual strides forward. It's an old glove at this point, his name, and less of a reminder of an order made by the Sir Reginald Hargreeves.
And Doc was right - if Five was called son or kid one more time, he was going to have a conniption. "You haven't seen anything with a year here, have you?" The question was starting to sound like a broken record, even to Five, but he had to make sure.
no subject
With his hands on his hips, Doc glances around the kitchen area. It's not the way he'd take a proper look at everything, but he'd need hours to comb through all the details that this house had to offer, and he'd prefer to do it alone.
"No, I'm afraid I have not. The calendar in the restaurant would lead us to believe that something might have happened in October. I suppose we could work out a few options for years, based on that." There's only a few years where the first of October would have fallen on a given day.
"Is it important? To know the year?" A general sort of 'when' has sufficed for Doc. He's been more interested in who, how and why.
no subject
The calendar is a good point, and Five finds himself growing more annoyed at having missed it the first time around. He was in a rush, before. Maybe still was, priorities frayed between family and pragmatism and the reality was that those two hardly ever went hand in hand. "Ah, thanks. I'll have to go back to that," he says this, already looking deeper in the room to find a notebook, and a pen, only to stop when the next question comes.
"Maybe," is the honest reply. "More to me, than you. See, if I don't know the when, then I can't even begin to try and get back to my family. It's-"
Ever since his arrival here, his powers have been running ragged faster than he's used to. Spatial jumps are fine shorter distances, but the longer they are, the less he can do. Which is a big, major problem that he hasn't stopped to dwell on yet. "Time travel is a crapshoot, always has been, but even more so when you don't know if you're supposed to be going forward, or back, or sideways."
"And that's not even taking into consideration the how of all of us being here," it's questions on top of questions.
no subject
"You can do that to return to where you came from?" Of course he can. He can disappear from one place and appear in another. He could possibly be halfway around the world in an instant. Or move through time, fix mistakes in the past, change the present and chart out the future at the drop of a hat.
"That is truly remarkable." Perplexing, still, but remarkable. Doc is admittedly a little envious of being able to right some wrongs so seemingly easily, but at the same time he can see how it would make life needlessly complicated.
"Let us focus on finding some answers about the date, then." They all have family they would like to be returning to, but even if they don't get the answers they are seeking, he would be happy to get just one person back to the place they came from.
"Some newspapers perhaps, or the television?" Not in the kitchen, either way.
no subject
It's the abridged version. Shit results before Doc thinks these powers infallible in the same sort of way Five made the mistake of thinking long before. There wasn't an illusion that they were impossibly advantageous, no, the extents of which were still somewhat unexplored. But, freezing waters and acorns and all that.
Actually, he hadn't even tested out his ability of going back several seconds, let alone opening another temporal rift, as of yet, and a part of him was strangely apprehensive to even try. "But I can't give up without trying."
Still, Doc's near lack of hesitation in offering to help him gets him a very curious look. Grateful surprise, maybe, beneath barely raised brows. "Yeah. Yeah, anything like that. I just need numbers."
Speaking of, as he raises his gaze to look around them once again, he stops on the wall clock. "And - let's check if the clocks all stopped at the same time."
no subject
"You look... much younger than you are." Probably a bit rich coming from one 160something year old man, and it might not be all that insightful, but here they are. Five must be in his 60s now. Doc might treat him a little differently, but honestly. Not by much.
"How may I reach you? Should I find some information that you seek?" Doc doubts they will want to be sticking together 24/7. "Should I leave a message at the restaurant?"
no subject
Never mind the fact that even in the real terms of his age and experiences endured, he's still a kid when it comes to the (lesser known) fact that Doc is a century older than him. It would lessen the sting of Doc's prior approach, though not by much.
"I'll be over at the old Thomasen house," said as he points to the crossed out list of numbers by the phone. "Last place I'll look for the time being, but - the restaurant isn't a bad idea either."
Less unreliable, maybe. "Alright, notes in the restaurant. I'll do the same if I find anything useful."
no subject
"I will find you at the Thomasen house then, and if you are not there, the restaurant." Doc tips his hat and flashes a tight-lipped smile before he parts ways with Five, heading back for the door. Unfortunately the weather hasn't really improved, but. Seeing as they've been nothing but wet over the past couple of days, it can't really get much worse.