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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Comments

[torsion]

There was nothing particularly pleasant about this experience to her. It all felt purposeful, even though weather surely couldn't be manipulated in such a way... then again, she didn't expect to be living in what she's now accepted isn't just a vivid hallucination, either.

The cold is a lot to take when she's just in the battlesuit, but it's efficient for fighting, still. She wouldn't mind getting rid of it (and dyeing her hair), but that's hardly what she should be focusing on now. There's too much at stake back home. She needs to see it all through and be there to protect Chris, if she can. If everything she went through was for nothing, she'd never forgive herself.

But she can't do that if she isn't out of here, if she isn't back home.

The cold digs and the storm doesn't seem to be breaking; like needles of ice pricking any skin laid bare. It feels more violent and the darkness is so encompassing, enough that she sees shape in the inky darkness, blotting into familiar shapes that she needs to blink away. Some stay, feel like they are inching nearer even though she knows logically it isn't.

The nearest house is what she goes for. The front door's lock is easily picked considering her skill and that she'd come with a lockpick set, but something is in front of it. It should be audible, even over the roar of thunder that it's been moved, violently pushed but let go instead of being broken. The back door is nearly the same and, with great frustration, goes for a window. She can't tell what it is through the darkness, but she eventually pulls it open with a little skill before swinging herself up and inside. Her heels are audible and looking around, she's sure it was some kind of bedroom.

She's wet and it trails her somewhat on the floor as she walks around, not far from the living, she follows the light and warmth of the fire. Someone's in here; perhaps they were the ones to close it off and not the people who might've been here before the little ragtag group of people that came here at the same time as her?

Jill announces herself first, deciding it's safer than being sneaky.

"Hey, anyone in here? I'm not here for a fight, just looking to ride the storm out."

Some bullshit this is.

[tinstar]

Somehow, Raylan had found a little peace in the storm, a tightwire balance walk of staying calm while pushing his attention to it's edges, listening to the house around him without letting every little squeak and sound freak him out. Without that, it all might have, and rightly so; it wasn't the storm that spooked him, but the feeling in the bottom of his gut. Still, the fire helped almost as much as his feet being dry.

The only good thing about all this was that it gave his mind something else to chew fanatically over that wasn't his situation at home.

It wasn't just the sound of soft footsteps that alerted him to the fact that he wasn't alone - the sound of the air changed when she entered the hall, but he didn't move, already having the best view of all the exits in the room. The chair leg he'd beaten out of full chair form was laid over his knees, his ringed right hand laying over it in case he had to use it.

He narrowed his eyes a little at the doorway as she steps through, smirking slightly at the announcement.

"Normally fires aren't unattended, but considerin' where we are, I get why you might ask." It was a Southern Drawl if one was ever spoken but not heavy or stupid. It was casual velvet.

"C'mon in if you're a peaceful type. Fire enough to share."

[torsion]

The storm doesn't worry her so much as everything else. Just being here, where she shouldn't be, where no logic can place her... that's enough. Jill supposes she should be grateful that she's unscathed, but nothing feels right. Not what dug deep inside of her in that forest and threatened to spill over, that gut-wrenching feeling of anxiety that surely wasn't just her instincts on overdrive. Not here, not now.

But you had to make due.

She spots him and raises a hand in greeting, a gesture of friendliness in its own right.

"Normally, no. But nothing about this place seems normal to me." Shadows filter across her, though she's more visible when the slices of darkness disappear into the warm glow of the fire. Jill remains standing, though she lessens the distance and offers a gloved hand. "Wouldn't call myself peaceful, but I'm not out for a fight, either. Jill Valentine. I saw you at the Grey Gull before."

[tinstar]

It was the offer of the gloved hand that got him onto his feet, stepping close enough to shake it with a firm grip and two pumps, empty leather gun holster still on his hip. Barefoot, in jeans that were only just drying and black button up that was opened to show the white undershirt beneath it, Raylan's salt and pepper hair was still combed back, by virtue of it drying that way. Not exactly battle suit get up here.

"Raylan Givens. My fire is your fire," he said, gesturing towards the dry couch in invitation before pulling his chair forwards a little so he was lurking less.

"Mighta paced a hole in the Gull's floor but I think I saw you come in. Decided to go explorin', huh?"

[torsion]

Seems like he was left bereft of weaponry, too. If it was being dried out, it would likely be within his line of sight. You can't be too careful, especially when you've been kidnapped. Her smile is slight, but honest and warm; as genuine as she may offer.

She clasps rather than shakes. It's clear her aim was his wrist, but she makes due. No big deal. Quietly thanking him for the offer, she takes him up on the sofa and tucks herself into the corner nearest him. Although there's the urge to pull her legs up, she's considerate enough not to do so.

"Good to meet you, Raylan." She hopes, anyway. "Nothing's going to get done if we just sit around. Unfortunately the weather isn't exactly ideal for something more long-term. At least not without a good coat."

She lifts her head, tilting it toward him, indicating the holster.

"What were you packing? If you don't mind a gal being forward."

[tinstar]

She was right; if he had been drying it out, it would have been laid out on the table, but just like her, he'd been robbed of his guns and ammunition.

Unfamiliar with wrist clasps and that whole thing, Raylan settled back in his chair and laid the claimed leg over his lap again. "I'd say the same, but considerin' the circumstances..." Well, they'd all rather have different ones.

"Not even with a good coat, my jacket is still soaked through and probably about fifty pounds. Can't do much in this weather." He glanced down at his holster. "Glock 45. Standard issue for Marshal's Service." He couldn't help but glance her over to see if she had any empty holsters of her own.

"You shoot?"

Above them, another thunderous clap of sound shook the house a little, jerking Raylan's sharply attentive eyes to the ceiling for a long second before dropping them back down, jaw tensing slightly. He didn't mind a storm but the atmosphere here, everywhere, needed to break.

[torsion]

They can use their holsters to carry snacks now, at least.

"Whole lot of bullshit, I know. Don't remember being kidnapped and to get wherever we are from Africa... I don't know." She gives up halfway through, like she's exhausted considerations on how it could've happened or where they are.

"I've been through worse weather." The torrent of snow in the Caucasus Mountains had been intense. She could barely see anything in front of her eyes. All blinding white. She gently taps the empty ones at her hip. "Had two Škorpion vz. 61 MGs on me. You a Marshal, then, US? Former US Army Delta Force, myself."

Jill doesn't budge, but she pauses like she expects things to go silent. Like it might mean something.

[tinstar]

"Another middle of a continent, huh?" He shook his head, jaw tensing again. He had no way to rationalize it. At all. But he pushed himself away from that growing issue before continuing. "Lexington, Kentucky." But it was good to know the reach wasn't just the Eastern Coast of the US.

"Nice," he said of her guns with a little nod of his head. "Never much played with full autos, myself." That kind of firepower? That was war or merc type firepower.

"For the last 20 or so years, yeah. Not much to stack up against a Army Delta Force, but I taught firearms at Glynco for a few years." Still wasn't enough to stack up; he knew that well and good. "I'd ask what you were doin' in Africa but somehow I don't think you'd give me a straight answer, would ya."

[torsion]

"Definitely not Kentucky. If you're asking me it's east coast, maybe. Based on the architecture I would say New England." Jill figures this, at least, though it could be Jersey or Virginia. They have plenty of forestry, but the ocean... hm.

"It's my specialty." She says with a hint of humbleness. She enjoys them, frankly. "But the feel of a revolver's just as well." The power, too.

She puts a hand on her ankle and another on the heel of her foot, holding it but not with any weight to it. An idle gesture rather than one of anxiety.

"Work. I'm a special operations agent with an anti-bioterrorism NGO called the BSAA -- Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance." And naturally, where vulnerable people are, there's someone taking advantage of them. "Was finishing a mission, but it would be HQ in Canada afterwards and if I'm lucky, back on home later."

If she had one still. She doesn't want to think on it. As long as the people were still there, though, she had that at the very least.

"Can't say this was exactly part of my plans."

[tinstar]

He laughed softly. "No. That's where I was before this. This is northern woods. My bets on the east coast too but I haven't seen much of the northwestern coast." Raylan considered her as she answered his not!question, eyes narrowing softly at the mention of Bioterrorism.

"Never heard of it, no offense, though in this day and age, I've got no doubts that the government has that. Nor that it's not exactly top headliner in the general public. Probably better for that," he conceded with a bob of his head.

"Though I don't think this was part of anyone's plans."

[torsion]

"Wonder how far away we are from other cities? I'm betting we're near a National Park with how it looks." It doesn't feel just like a small forest in between a city or two. It has to be big, perhaps insurmountable by foot.

"We're worldwide, so that's strange." Jill hasn't put two and two together yet. Even if she had, she'd have a harder time believing that than just being kidnapped to another country. Who knows? She might've hit her head harder than she thought. "It's part of the ecosystem, especially after what happened on the coast of Greece. Have you heard of the Raccoon City Incident?"

There was never any public admittance of what actually happened in Raccoon, but people knew it was bombed. He'd had to have heard of that, right? Jill folds her hands over her knee, idly bouncing her leg in a faint way.

"Guess if it was in someone's plans, they're the one that we've gotta talk to. Speaking of looking for people, though, if you see a guy about six feet, two-fifty pounds who is tanned, with dark hair, got arms about two, three times the size of mine? Let 'em know I'm lookin' for him. Don't imagine there are many that could be confused for him."

[tinstar]

"Might be," he agreed with a soft nod of his head. "It's a township, so I'm guessin' we're at least an hour, if not more, from civilization." That was usually how it went; he should know. Even Kentucky's capital wasn't that large of a city, in comparison. "Your guy sounds like a wall with legs," he said with another huff of a breath. "You see a small blonde woman in stilettos and a pencil skirt with an accent like mine, you send her mine." He rolled the leg idly across his leg back and forth, eyes steady on her.

"Never heard of Racoon City. What happened there?"

He agreed with her last sentiment about finding whoever's plan this was and 'talking' with them.