The Village Mod (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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villagelogs2021-02-27 04:31 pm
villagemod) wrote in villagelogs2021-02-27 04:31 pm
Entry tags:
- *overview log,
- alec hardison (leverage),
- doc holliday (wynonna earp),
- eliot spencer (leverage),
- john carter (er),
- raylan givens (justified),
- ~ bucky barnes (marvel live action),
- ~ daisy johnson (marvel live action),
- ~ neal caffrey (white collar),
- ~ tony stark (marvel live action),
- ~ will graham (hannibal)
037-040 ยป the reason for time
WHO: Everyone.
WHERE: Eastern/Central Mathias
WHEN: Day 037-040
WHAT: The dead return and the living wake to changes within Mathias Township.
WARNINGS: Some explicit sexual content in threads. (PM this account to have a warning added!)
NOTES: Plotting post over here!
RECOMMENDED โซ Kammarheit "Sleep after Toyle, Port after Stormie Seas"
CONDITIONS UPDATE
OOC NOTES
navigation | faq | locations | report updates
WHERE: Eastern/Central Mathias
WHEN: Day 037-040
WHAT: The dead return and the living wake to changes within Mathias Township.
WARNINGS: Some explicit sexual content in threads. (PM this account to have a warning added!)
NOTES: Plotting post over here!
RECOMMENDED โซ Kammarheit "Sleep after Toyle, Port after Stormie Seas"
DAY 037
THE DEAD RETURNโThe only reason for time is so that everything
doesn't happen at once.โ —Albert Einstein
The dead return to Mathias forever changed by their experiences. Waking along the beach, near the tree line, or among the graves, they will find that their bodies are not as they remember them. They are whole again and not torn to shreds by the shadow creatures that cannot be described, but they are also not as they were before the Hunt. These residents will find, so strangely, that their bodies are in the physical state in which they first arrived in Mathias — any injuries or recovery they have made since their initial arrival no longer exists, as if their time in Mathias has simply been a horrible nightmare. Except they all now carry a last reminder of the Hunt with them: spiderweb-thin healed scars marking their injuries from the Hunt. Those who were injured by fire in the other realm also carry those burns with them.
The dead are not the only things that have returned to Mathias. Inexplicably, fall is back, with the temperature finally reaching above freezing and snow falling from trees to reveal beautiful autumnal colors. As the sun rises higher in the lightly cloudy sky and the day warms, the snow begins rapidly melting, puddles growing in the slowly revealed grass and little rivers forming in the streets. And with that snow comes the frozen blood from the deaths to the Hunt, tinting the street river on Phillips Drive a sickening shade of red.
Another oddity that residents will notice: houses with broken windows from the encounter with the fog on Day 015 have now been completely repaired, though any boards put in place are still there somehow. A small bit of good news, at least? And truly, how kind of Mathias to clean up its own mess.
Finally, alcohol is back. Enjoy in moderation, friends, for more will not be arriving the following morning.THE NEW ARRIVALS
The newest arrivals to Mathias will wake up on the beach near The Grey Gull. It's quite chilly out with their wet clothes, but surely there's something to help warm them inside the restaurant. Indeed, their timing is perfect, for alcohol has finally returned to Mathias Township — and not just the cowboys' homemade moonshine.DAY 038-039
THE CHANGE OF SEASON
The continued warm weather proves that the unseasonable shift of the previous day was not merely a fluke. Once again, the sun rises and brings with it a temperature that feels almost spring-like, save for the fact that each day there seem to be more and more leaves on the trees in hues of red and orange. For those who have been in Mathias for some time, this new type of weird may be almost normal at this point, but newer arrivals will likely find it quite odd.
The gently trickling river running along Phillips Drive is still somewhat pink in color as the snow continues to melt and refreeze each night. By Day 040, the bloody snow will finally be gone completely, though the relief will be... short-lived.
DAY 040
THE BLINDING WHITE
In the late morning of Day 040, when the sun is visible through patchy greyish clouds, the fog sweeps into town like a like a tidal wave. It moves in quickly and without warning, not from the waterfront but the forest, cascading through every street in a thick wave of white. Rather than a soft blanket enveloping the town, it is a heavy weight pressing down, blotting out the sky in a way that almost feels suffocating, for none can see further than their outstretch hand.
Those outside when it rolls in are left wandering blind, stumbling toward shelter as you're unable to even see your feet beneath you, let alone any obstacles in your path. Perhaps you call out for help, hoping for another voice to guide you toward shelter or simply another living soul. Or perhaps you were lucky enough to already be inside when the fog descended, quickly closing doors and windows to keep it from creeping in.
Unlike the last time the fog swept into the town, residents who encounter it are not immediately killed. Instead, they are simply disoriented, possibly losing their sense of time and place, and it is only after prolonged exposure that they will begin to feel off. A sense of being ill will cling to them if they are in the fog for too long, including dizziness, lightheadedness, or nausea — the time it takes to manifest varies from person to person, as does the duration it will last after leaving the fog.
By nightfall, the fog still has not dissipated.
— THE WEATHER conditions are fairly typical for late fall: chilly "sweater weather" days and nights that can dip just below freezing. You don't want to be outside without a coat, but it won't kill anyone if they bundle up. Probably.
— 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 western 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 blocking these areas is ill-advised.
— DISAPPEARANCES continue. Castiel and Sam Winchester have vanished, and Dean Winchester has not returned with the others after his death during the Hunt.
— THE GRAVEYARD has now seen around a dozen burials, both below and above ground. With the weather warming, though, something may need to be done about the handful of temporary graves aboveground...
— ALCOHOL has returned to Mathias! A small stock of beer and cheap wine may be found at the General Store, and some homes may have a small store of alcohol in the fridge or pantry. The Grey Gull has also been restocked with its lower-end offerings of a variety of alcohol types. Alcohol does not replenish in the same way as food.
— THE GREY GULL has been cleaned up and stocked with moonshine. Along with the newly restocked usual offerings, the place almost seems like an actual bar again.
— THE GENERAL STORE is in a bit of a state following the brutal slaughter of two residents during the Hunt. Cleanup on aisle 3, anyone?
— FOOD is now being mysteriously restocked as per usual, including inside homes and at the General Store. Alcohol is not being restocked. Use those rationing skills, friends.
— REWARD REDEPEMPTION is back and will soon have a new option for anyone looking to spend big AP and learn a bit more of the lore of the town.
— MADNESSES due to the Hunt have been earned by Klaus Hargreeves, Ellie, and Malcolm Bright and may now be claimed. Players may also claim additional sanity loss from the aftermath of the Hunt; only losses from the Hunt itself have been deducted from totals thus far.
— SANITY REGAIN is now available! Players will submit a form with some details of the progress their character has made and the mod will review and decide on the numbers of points that will be regained.
— MOD STATUS The usual reminder that 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.
QUESTIONS?
Clarification request
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If not, is that something that could be worked on ICly and/or does it require going through the reward system to access?
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question!
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Re: QUESTIONS?
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REWARDS
Spot Hidden
Characters involved: Malcolm Bright
Link to thread: Plotty
Additional details: Malcolm will be starting his tunnel searching on days 38 and 39 by exploring from 1307 towards the Lighthouse. He will be alone and will have a ladder with him and a kerosene lantern and a notebook/pen and his phone to take photos. What can he find between 1307 and the lighthouse by exploring the tunnels?
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Eliot Spencer | Leverage cw: ptsd, death, disassociation, mentions of gore, violence, murder
There are trees.
There weren't trees before. There was fire.
There was fire and buildings were coming down and it was loud and the fire got him again and the last thought he had was almost a laugh because again, he literally just got ripped to shreds and died, that was his blood everywhere and he distinctly remembers dying so this can't be dying but it feels an awful lot like dying and now he's not.
Now he's not and he's here and he sits in next to the trees, trying to catch his breath, his eyes wide and it's not hot and he's not burned and he's here and he's not there and it's cool and he just sits, and sits, and sits.
He sits for a long time.
When he finally gets up, finally manages to scrape together two thoughts and put one foot in front of the other, he heads off towards the buildings. He's been here before. Not here, specifically, and no, he hasn't died multiple times before but he's been in bad situations. Firefights and regular fights and he knows that you have to put one foot in front of the other.
Just one foot in front of the other, Eliot. All roads lead to somewhere.
But maybe he can just keep walking on this one and hopefully he'll end up someplace safe.
B. Days 038 and 039 - Bring Me To Life - OTA
It's...well, he's not better, per se, but things are better.
At least until he realized that fire and him don't get along.
He's the kind of person that purposefully goes towards his fears, to sensitize himself to them so that he can get on with his life and not be affected by them. It worked before, actually, so...
...surely it can work now?
Eliot runs out of the Grey Gull, panting.
Dammit.
He runs back in, at the same high speed, determined and maybe growling.
He comes running back out a second later in the same way. Panting, sweaty, eyes wide.
And then he goes back in. And then out.
This happens for quite some time.
You can probably ask him what he's doing if you want.
C. Day 040 - Frozen Inside - OTA
Nope. He's not doing this again. No way.
He's at the door of the Grey Gull, waving anyone he sees inside. He ain't messin' with this town's stupid crap anymore.
"Get inside! Get the hell out of there!"
He'll take quick trips out into the fog if he must, but he's keeping the door open for limited amounts of time anytime he sees someone wander by.
D. Wildcard - Anything goes! - Plotting comment here
day 38 - the gull
He didn't expect to see Eliot running full tilt out of the Gull's doors and it kicked a flair of panic in his stomach, eyes going a little wider and wilder.
"HEY!" he called, breaking into a jog to get up to the front of the place. "What's goin' on, is everything okay in there?"
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A, lets get sad on main
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Raylan Givens | Justified
Day 37 - Closed to anyone at the 1306 House
This had to be it, right? The last time he'd wake up, finally where ever people like him go when they die. No more struggling, no more lonliness, no more anger or pain. As soon as the thought came, it went, ferried on by the bitter pragmitism that reminded him only darkness followed true death. Final Death.
After another long few minutes, Raylan finally forced himself up to his hands and knees, pulling himself further up the beach and out of the lapping water until he could roll onto his ass. Tugging off his boots with a gritting of his teeth against the pain that came with it all, Raylan poured the sea water out of them before spotting the supplies that someone had left. Doc maybe - it was his first assumption. But with the thought of the immortal gunslinger came the onslaught of feelings he kept tucked under his hat, not just for Henry, but the whole house. It was more than enough to get Raylan up to his feet, boots in hand, and over to the supplies. All he needed was a blanket.
He let his feet go on automatic, bare soles muddy as soon as he got off the sand, but he knew the way home.
He just wasn't sure what he'd find there.
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Night 37 @ 1305
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Day 38 - OTA
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Later - at the Gull
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Day 38 - night
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Grey Gull
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Day 39 - closed to Neal and Negan
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Will Graham | Hannibal
Sleep was still elusive but this was nothing new for Will. The oppressive quiet was new, the lack of bird song as the sun began to creep into the sky, the restless shifting of the dogs needing to go out. Molly snoring like a chainsaw. The memories put a small smile on Will's face before he dragged himself off the couch and decided to start his day.
He showered and bundled up, prepared for the snow and ice outside. Tugging on his gloves as he swung open the door and walked out into ...
'I believe you may find yourself a tad overdressed, Will.' Hannibal remarked from where he was leaning against the railing, dressed in a gaudy -yet fashionable- light wool suit. No overcoat.
Closing his eyes Will muttered softly. "My name is Will Graham. It is seven thirteen in the morning, I am in Mathias Township." After he said the words, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
Yep. Still Fall.
Shaking his head Will walked back into his house to remove a few layers.
Stripped down to a heavy flannel shirt, buttoned overtop an undershirt, Will headed back out to begin his day. His first stop was the General Store, just on the off chance that something, anything had restocked. Imagine his unholy glee at finding alcohol!! Apologies to those who lost their lives in the General Store, but after only a cursory glance at the scenes, Will was heading for the booze.
Will was definitely taking his time 'shopping'. He could be found trying to decide between cheap beer and cheap wine.
"Beggers can't be choosers," he muttered at one point. "But would some cheap whiskey have been so difficult?"
Day 38 - 39
The previous day had been spent stocking up -on booze- and doing his best to avoid the blood stained water of the melting snow running down his street. Hobbs, Dolarhyde, Tier and even Michael Brown had been hooting and hollaring as they splashed through the melting blood ice, causing Will to stop and stand stock still as he struggled to put them from his mind and function.
It had become more and more of a struggle through the day and Will had spent the night reliving some of his classic night terrors.
Recognizing that he needed something manual to do, something fixed and rote that he could use to focus his mind and exhaust his body, when Day 38 dawned Will headed out into the town looking for a project. It took him most of the morning but when he came across the filth covered, yet oddly intact Greenhouse ...ureka!
Horticulture was not really Will's long suit but building maintenance was right up his alley! Add on the nascent thought that maybe this building could be used for its original purpose? Grow their own food supply? Seemed a good use of his time.
First things first. Cleaning the place up. Inside the glass building, Will quickly ended up stripping down to his undershirt as he worked. He focused on clearing the areas that appeared the most stable, fixing any faults he could address with the tools on hand, and then cleaning the glass.
He wasn't hiding his activities, the greenhouse doors stood wide open, and he could no doubt be seen wandering from the general store to the greenhouse and back.
Day 40
Will was caught outside when the fog rolled in.
For him there was little about its appearance that made him feel any more or less off than he felt any other day of his existence. If anything the fog felt like a welcoming blanket -to Will- and he continued to make his way through the thick blanket with little concern about direction or time.
It was possible he might have encountered others, who were not as comfortable in the deep fog? It was possible that he could assist them in finding shelter. Whether he did this while making the entire fogbank feel even more unsettling was ... always a good question.
greenhouse! day 38!
She carries a carafe, filled with water she'd enchanted an hour before and when she sees the doors swung wide open, at first she thinks it is Eliot.
Hopes, rather, else the number of magic users dwindle all the more. Instead, she finds a stranger.
"Careful with the seedlings," is the first thing she says, standing ramrod straight at the threshold, violet eyes giving him a look halfway between scrutiny and appraisal. It is difficult to tell with her. "In the corner," an accompanying nod in the appropriate direction, towards a rough cover placed over the quite precious little pots.
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Day 38
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Day 39
cw:gore
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day 39 (if the day is alright!)
Day is all good!
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NEAL CAFFREY || WHITE COLLAR
Day 37 - Morning | WAKE ME UP INSIIIIIIDE er uh | Closed to Bucky and Daisy
He wasn't wearing these when he died.
Died, died again. But then anything he was wearing would have burned, wouldn't it? So it makes sense that, wherever he is now, whatever level of hell or hallucination he's fallen into, his mind would supply something familiar. Just like last time, he had whole clothes after he got torn in half.
It's not freezing. That thought doesn't get him to move, either. Neal turns his head, at least confirming familiarity with where he is. The beach behind the Gull. He's still cold, certainly, but snow only clings to the beach in patches, not in swathes, and those patches are melting at the edges.
He's not sure how long he lies there. He does know that his toes are starting to go numb. Neal rolls onto his side, stays there for another who-knows-how-long studying the rough New England sand inches from his nose. Somehow, the next thing he knows, he's on his feet.
He needs to find Raylan. Daisy. Negan. Eliot. Why? So they can die again, so maybe he can see it happen? Neal looks north on impulse, up the beach, toward the lighthouse. Without really deciding to, without really evaluating the choice, Neal starts walking. He blinks, and somehow he's climbing the rocks that cut the Gull's beach off from the lighthouse's. He wants to get to the cave. Ne needs to get to the cave. As soon as he realizes that's where he's going, he hones in on that goal, fumbling for another damp handhold higher up on the rocks.
Italian leather and tailored suits were not meant for rock climbing expeditions.
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Day 37 - Day | Closed to 1306/Existing CR
Day 37 - Night | Closed to Malcolm
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Doc Holliday | Wynonna Earp
Night 36/Day 37 @ Malcolm
First he checks in on the girls. Ellie, and Yennefer. He is no father, and she is no little girl, but Ellie makes his stomach twist and his heart ache in a way he doesn't understand, in a way that all the other women in his life have never made him feel. Yennefer, at least, elicits much more familiar feelings in him. Of course he finds her attractive. What cold and heartless bastard would not? She burns with a familiar fire and he has always been a moth to those orange-red-white-hot and batshit crazy flames. He would happily slow dance with her barefeet across a floor covered with broken glass and barbed words if she would fight with him and tear him down to size. But he respects her too. He is worried for them both.
Malcolm, too. They haven't really talked, since... well. They haven't really talked. Doc can't even walk straight right now, so he's not going to try. He's just going to open Malcolm's door as quietly and stealthily as he can manage and make sure Malcolm's in bed. An outline of a body in bed is enough to assure him that the last man standing in 1306 is fine. He can report this back to Raylan tomorrow when he drops his ass back into that shitty plastic chair. They're both trucking along just fine without him.
And then when Doc finally gets back to his old room, the one he had ceded to Negan, and closes the door behind him, when Raylan and Neal and Negan and Malcolm aren't watching, he can fall apart. He can bang the back of his head against the door quietly, breathe deeply and close his eyes, let the tears fall freely in the dark. The stress and strain of trying to keep his shit together breaks him and leaves him a despairing, sobbing mess, sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows digging into his knees and fists in his hair, knocking his hat onto the floor.
People are dead and nobody could do anything for them. Others are missing, nowhere to be found. If whatever killed the others doesn't come after them too, they're going to die from starvation.
"I don't know what to do," he confesses to the cupboard, looking through the gaps between his fingers before his fingertips slide up to his hairline. He has run out of reassuring lies to tell to Five, to Ellie, to Malcolm, to himself. His sounding board
breath, hot against his ear, fist in his shirt, lips scraping against his cheek slinging from a disarmed hipis lying in pieces under a pile of rocks. Blood and whatever miniscule pieces of guts from the most all-rounded talented man that this house ever saw is still strewn across the snow outside this very bedroom window. This room still smells like leather and sounds like gravelly laughter even though it doesn't house the most seasoned survivalist amongst them anymore."I don't know what to do." Clammy palms swipe up the sides of his head, wrists pressed to the shells of his ears as his shallow panting adds some cadence to the ambient silence. He only has ten fingers and ten toes to plug the innumerable star-studded sky of holes in the hull of this sinking ship and he's breathing like he's drowning already.
"I don't know what to do," he whispers to the pillow tiredly when he eventually lies down, curled up on his side, in pieces with no one left to collect him like they said they would have. Maybe he's too tired to stretch the day out any longer. Maybe tomorrow will come upon them without incident. Maybe tomorrow it'll all come back to him. Maybe tomorrow he will be able to come up with a fresh set of lies.
Or maybe he won't even be able to make it to tomorrow having this one night to himself.
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sometime between day 37 and 40.
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Negan | The Walking Dead | OTA
He wakes up with the memory of fire and the agony of it biting at his skin. His surroundings are different again though, back to what he's used to, aside from the balls freezing temperatures. This godforsaken place isn't surrounded in freaky fucking fire consuming everything and he's not burnt to a crisp. He's not sure if it's a positive or a negative though.
His stomach turns as he pushes himself up, body on autopilot. He looks like he's back to good old Negan, but he feels so fucking far from it.
He can still remember what it felt like to have teeth and claws pull at him and he looks himself over along the way, but his clothes aren't in tatters and he's not bleeding anywhere. He'll clean up and change back home when he's there, and he'll probably see the faint little scars then. Right now, he's in one piece and he supposes he's grateful for that on some level.
He has to wonder if Neal and Raylan made it back too, if Klaus is here and everyone else. He can't be the only asshole to come back, right? He's not that fucking lucky. Either way, when he's back to the familiar 1306, he hesitates before going inside, just long enough to try to muster up the energy it takes to throw that door open with as much of his usual swagger he can manage.
"Honey, I am home," he calls out, wonders if anyone even is home. If they're smart by any means, they won't have missed him, Malcolm and Doc. Doc, he's pretty sure hasn't. "And holy hell, am I ready to kick back."
With a bottle of moonshine... and possibly never move again. Or at least not for a very long time.
Days 38-39 CW: brief mentions of gore
What Negan wants to do is... fuck, he doesn't even know. he's bone tired and he can't fucking sleep anymore without images of himself gleefully bashing in heads and taking hot irons to people... and when it isn't gory as fuck, it's screwing around with Lucille somewhere in the background, her heart fucking breaking.
I stuck with you because I could always see the man you are right now.
Boy, if she could see him now...
Either way, sticking around the house isn't on the agenda. Negan's out, picking up food to add to their little stockpile at home, just in case. Or he's poking around random businesses -- the clothes shop. He needs some new duds with the weather changing. When he's not there, he's hanging out at the Grey Gull, tucked in the back corner with his foot up on the table. He'll be keen at greeting anyone who comes in for a little bit of a chat though.
Night 39 | Locked to Doc
It's making him think about shit back home that he doesn't want to. You got to fight to protect what's yours, take care of what's yours. He firmly believes that. But fuck, he's been overstepping his boundaries for a long damn time, let it go to his head. He's an asshole who shouldn't have woken back up mostly unharmed.
He's an asshole who shouldn't be around most the people around here, and it might be the moonshine in control right now, but... ah, well. He abandons his leather jacket somewhere in 1306 and for a moment, it feels like tossing a fucking weight off his shoulders. He doesn't think anyone should notice him slipping out the door either, not really.
He just needs to get out a while. He grabs some more booze along the way and somewhere his adventures land him in an unoccupied house that's not half bad. He takes his time snooping through closets, going through the kitchen and the bathrooms just to be a nosy bastard before he finds himself flopping back on the bed with a bottle. "Oh, Goldilocks, this bed is just right..."
He lets out a deep sigh that almost sounds contented. Only almost. Pretty soon, the silence will start gnawing at him and he'll probably slip back home anyway because he's a fucking coward deep down. He can't handle the quiet. He can't handle a dead fucking world where he's alone and doesn't have the balls to do anything about it. But right now? He can be miserable in private without a fucking show that he can't stop now.
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37
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37
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Bucky Barnes | MCU
Day 38
Eight days had gone by in something of a haze and since his arrival he's learned from a few people that time was a little weird, slower somehow. Only to him, it felt anything but and he can't help think that maybe everyone experiences it a little differently. As was the case with most things. Mathias wasn't the same thing to all people, after all.
That morning, he heads out with the same shovel he used a couple of mornings prior, setting out to properly bury some people, despite the irony of them being alive again. It was definitely odd, to say the least. But there was something about not doing it and the repercussions that would inevitably follow that makes it hard to ignore until it's actually done.
Later - Boarding House
It's late and Bucky resigns himself to at least try and get some rest. He was exhausted and deep sleep wasn't going to happen, though if it were in the form of some reading or light sleep, then maybe he'd feel better.
Only when he closes his eyes, the same pain starts to move inwards from the same contact points on his skull that the memory suppressing machine was placed and before long, it's like he's being wiped all over again. And like every time it happens, Bucky lets out a holler, sits up ramrod straight and spends the next five minutes trying to regain control of the heavy breathing that seems to shake everything around him, too.
He manages to get through it but only just and to avoid the possibility of another episode, Bucky chooses to get up and go downstairs where he can sit in the far more open space of the dining room.
Graveyard
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boarding house
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boarding housssse
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Day 40
quake to the rescue โ
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Day 39 - Breakfast with Daisy and Neal - Closed
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Klaus Hargreeves | The Umbrella Academy
{blanket cw for all of his logs this round: suicidal ideation; depressive thoughts; anxiety spirals; potential panic attacks; alcohol as a coping mechanism
Day 037
His cheek feels cool, pressed against the ground, the earthy smell of fresh dirt; these are the first things he notices when he slowly begins to come to.
He expects the world to bathed in blood-red light, like before, but itโs not. Thatโs the first calming realization when he finally opens his eyes. This isnโt that place, and itโs a sigh of relief as he pushes himself to sit up.
All of those momentary good feelings flee in the face of crude grave markers coming into focus around him. A sour taste fills his mouth, his heart drops like lead into his stomachโ itโs just like all those times heโs woken up in graveyards as a kid, and he half-expects to see Sir Reginald Hargreeves sitting in a chair not far from here exclaiming, "You wonโt reach your full potential if you donโt try harder, Number Four."
There is no cold-hearted farce of a father to greet him, though. Instead, he notices a different, familiar silhouette not far in the distance.
โFive?โ His voice is weak, comes out little more than a croak, but maybe his brother will hear him anyway.
II. Boarding House [Closed to boarding house residents]
After Five found him, Klaus just wanted to go to the closest thing he's got to "home" around here, so they headed back to the boarding house. He took a shower, changed into something more comfortable, and then he couldn't decide what to do with himself. Everything felt so... hollow. He felt empty, run-down in ways he hasn't been in a long time.
He makes his way downstairs to grab a cup of coffee in hopes he can warm up; the temperatures may be warmer, but Klaus is perpetually cold. He's restless, sitting in the kitchen for a bit before moving into the living room. He wanders the halls, sits on the stairs, and just can't seem to calm down. An unrelenting anxiety fueling the steps he takes.
Eventually, he finds his way back to the living room, curled into one corner of the couch, watching the flames in the fireplace in a sort of zoned-out stare.
II
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graveyard :c
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Day 038
Opening the Door
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Day 40
Claire Novak | Supernatural | Open
OOC plotting here. Feel free to contact me on
Day 37 | Open (Throughout Mathias)
Fuck.
But she can't quite make herself care. The left side of her face is slightly swollen and numb from a nasty bruise and split lip that she'd healed from over a month ago, and there's nothing but spiderweb like, thin scarring where the dull ache of being shredded apart brutally sits uncomfortably, a reminder that she did, indeed die. ]
Have you seen the Winchesters?
[ She doesn't even really look at the person she walks up to and poses the question to, it could be anyone. Her voice is very carefully calm and neutral with how she's trying to hold herself together. ]
Or Cas?
[ They're not home. She went to 1301 Philips Drive. She waited for hours, and they didn't come home. John Constantine isn't around either. No one answered the door at his place. She needs to check up on a few people, still. Something's wrong, she can feel that in her bones, stiff as she moves with the cold chill of death still clinging to her. Has she lost everyone? She's almost afraid to look for Ellie. Her blue eyes are a little too bright.
She won't cry, though. She won't let herself.
They're probably around, right?
They can't just be gone, right?
(They're gone alright). ]
Day 38 | Open (General Store)
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Day 39 | Open (1301 Philips Drive)
this but then into day 40
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Day 40 | Closed to fixed plans
tony stark | marvel
[ tony pulls off as much of his damp outer layer of clothing as he can, while heading to a table in somewhere in the middle of the first place he found after waking up. a place called the grey gull. a quaint sort of place, doesn't really look like anything special. but for the moment, it may well be the greatest establishment tony's ever seen. his opinion on it will change sooner rather than later, but it's a warm place where he can get his bearings.
laying the wet clothes on the back of a chair, tony takes a seat at his chosen table and rubs his hands together, trying to get some proper warmth back into them. so, the grey gull. in... where? now, this isn't the first time he's woken up somewhere unfamiliar (you don't have as many nights of drunken debauchery as tony stark without waking up somewhere unknown once in a while), but this is the first time it's been of any real concern to him. in the past, even if tony didn't know where he was, happy knew. it was just a matter of giving him a call. and then more recently? well, jarvis was a constant source of information whenever tony needed.
now though, tony's on his own. happy's moved on from keeping tabs on his former boss, and jarvis was still offline last tony knew. if he could just call the kid-
actually, first thing's first. tony snaps his fingers in an attempt to draw the attention of anyone who'll listen ] So, which one of you wants to tell me where this is?
DAY 038 & 039
[ mathias. is isn't really much to look at so far, but it seems that tony's going to be spending at least a little time here so he might as well get to know it some. less room for unwanted surprises that way. the fewer variables, the better.
he spends some of the time sort of wandering with purpose, trying to get to know where things are. anything that looks interesting (a term used incredibly loosely right now) or important enough to be worth revisiting. a place like the general store, for instance. the library, even. well maybe the library. depends on what he can find there once he has a better look.
the town hall is of particular interest. actual interest. not some sort of feigned interest. the state it's in says a lot about the town without tony really having to see the rest of it. aside from the bulletin board- ] Who still uses actual physical bulletin boards? [ -the rest of the building seems to have fallen into relative disuse. dusty and dirty. abandoned. much like what he's seen of the rest of the town so far ]
Nice place you found yourself in.
DAY 040
[ tony's out when the fog rolls in. he'd seen the warnings about it on the bulletin board, even considered listening to them, but the fog descended quickly. it caught him completely off-guard.
at first, he continues in the direction he'd been walking, despite the low visibility, despite the fact that he can barely see his hand in front of his face. he knows what he saw before the fog enveloped everything. the way he'd been walking, it was relatively clear up to a point. keep walking straight and he'll be fine, right?
after a few steps, though, tony stops and looks one way, then the other. it doesn't exactly tell him anything he didn't already know and yet he still hoped for just something he could see. a shadow. a silhouette. something. something that tells him he didn't get himself turned around because he's starting to feel less confident about the direction he's headed and therefore what lies in front of him ]
If I could just- If I had- Then I could- And I wouldn't have to- [ stop. deep breath. try again, different approach ]
If anyone can hear me, now'd be a great time to make yourself known. Unless hiding in the fog is your thing, in which case, it's probably time to get a new thing anyway.
(plotting comment here. feel free to hit me up on disco or plurk @ bandakar for plotting. also will match style!)
Day 37
This township is called Mathias. [His drawl is present, but curt, voice sounding threatening when it's low.] This is the restaurant, in which nobody works or owes you anything. [Ergo, no finger-snapping at them like they are waiters.]
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Day 38
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day 38
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day 40 baybeee
did someone order a pint-sized can of whoop-ass (grey gull)
no thank you can you take it back this is not what i ordered
sorry sir no returns or refunds
day 39
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Day 39 @ 1306 - OTA
Trouble in Paradise
What started as a nascent, trifle idea rapidly devolved into a monster of a poorly-planned birthday party. It likely mattered little that the road to a near-miss disaster was paved with good intentions. Small, quaint ideas became progressively more ridiculous and many had to be abandoned given their lack of resources and lack of expertise. Where there might have been rejoicing and reassurances of a steady shepherd's hand to guide them at Bethany on the fourth day when Lazarus came forth from his tomb, the mood here was only further dampened by their collective tense post-resurrection blues. Still, nothing would have stopped them from trying to make it a rather special day.
Music and decorations became a rather last minute affair, with the coffee table repurposed into a space to leave presents and kind words for the birthday girl who deserved so much more than a second attempt at a chocolate cake (the culprit who accidentally put salt instead of sugar into the mixing bowl will likely forever remain anonymous) and whatever repurposed gifts they could salvage around town.
Cake aside, there's enough food, drink, and mingling opportunities to last them the afternoon of day 39. The door is open and anyone is welcome to stop by.
Happy Birthday Ellie!
"Many years ago my dearest friend held my hand up to the night sky on a cool, dry autumn night, just like tonight, and drew this constellation into my palm. This star over here, in this corner, it's barely moved in millions of years and it anchors us in a sea of uncertainty. You can go to the ends of the Earth and it will always show you the way home. I hope you will get to see it up close one day, and even if that opportunity doesn't come, I hope you will always find guidance when you need it. Know that you have a home here, with people who cherish you."
no subject
As they prepare the living room for the party, he puts it on the coffee table. Once people start arriving, he makes sure they have something to eat or drink, lingering around the edges of the group.
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Malcolm Bright | Prodigal Son
Day 38 - OTA
Malcolm snuck back into 1306 after he climbed back out of the tunnels and snuck the kerosene lamp and the ladder back into the garage and put some coffee on.
He opened the fridge.
Wait. There were eggs in the fridge.
He started cracking some into a bowl and making scrambled eggs.
OTA
Malcolm couldn't stay inside all day, so he took his fencing stick and headed out into town, looking to check on the friends that didn't live at 1306 and to maybe make sure the graves they'd built were okay.
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NIGHT 37/38, PRE-TUNNELS, POST-LIBRARY (CW for self-harm mentions)
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Day 39 - OTA
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slides on in here like a baseball player diving for home oops
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Day 40 - Closed to Raylan Givens and Neal Caffrey
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elijah mikaelson ( the originals )
DAY 037
DAYS 038 - 039
town hall
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DAY 040
aftermath.
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John Carter | ER
Day 037 - Closed to Eliot (cw: death, blood, handling of dead bodies, description of gory injuries)
That's his first thought when he looks outside and sees the change of season. Like pressing rewind on his VHS player, faint static lines causing the scene to flicker while everything reversed into what happened before. That's his first thought.
His second thought is oh no.
With the snow melting he's out in front of the house because Eliot's body is still out there and that's gonna be a problem soon. So much for I'll take care of it tomorrow. If it weren't so grotesque and terrible it could almost be funny. Sorry I procrastinated the dead body. Man. This is the worst trauma karma in the history of mankind.
He brings one of the blankets, too, because without the snow covering it up Eliot's gruesome injuries see the light of day again. Even with Carter cleaning up the body and stitching the worst of it back together, it's still awful and he gently wraps the body up, wondering what to do about it. Probably get some help to get it to the graveyard. Like he should have done yesterday.]
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Day 038-039 - ota
Day 040 - ota
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Liz Brundy | Brimstone
Day 037 - Closed to Bucky
She had died, that had been fairly clear. Yet somehow, she was dredged up from the water and deposited somewhere she didn't recognize or knew. The Grey Gull seemed like a familiar place, even if there were things inside that confused her (the lighting!) But with so many things stacked in her mind, there was little she could do but absorb the warmth that she desperately needed and find some way to get the damn shackles off.
The place was empty for at least an hour, but the sudden arrival of a larger, darker haired man had her up on her feet, drawing back against the wall nervously. She watched him carefully, wide eyes knowing and haunted.]
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Day 037 - OTA
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Day 038-039
The Gull - Let me know if this doesn't work!
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Day 040 - OTA
yennefer of vengerberg | the witcher (netflix)
closed to klaus hargreeves
Her thoughts drift as she walks down the street, carved in stark blacks and charcoals against the washed-out backdrop of a tense town in winter. She considers still the events that lie behind them all, jaw set, and perhaps that is why she doesn't see the flicker of movement until she's passing by the front porch, a figure in the corner of awareness that makes her snap her attention up to him, potted plant held carefully in both hands.
Curiously, she notes she hasn't seen his face too many times before, though enough to know it's isn't a new one. At the Town Hall meeting, perhaps? The - necromancer?
For the moment, she's intent on sharing no conversation other than the passing, acknowledging nod, a tilt of her chin, even if an odd look is shared between them.
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max guevara | dark angel
day 37 | cw: mention of drugging and side effects
after a few seconds, she attempts to push herself up, but her head swims as her stomach roils and she needs to pause for a second, hunched over her knees as her hands try to gain purchase in the sand. it's another few moments before she's able to push herself to her feet, and that's when she realizes where she is. good news: she's alive again, and unlike when she'd first woken up in mathias, she knows where to go. bad news: she's still in mathias, and even though her body's back to being whole and functional, something still feels wrong with her.
she starts making her way back to the boarding house, needing to stop occasionally to crouch towards the ground or lean against a nearby wall when she feels too unsteady - it's weird, it's almost like she's seasick; she can only recall feeling this bad after she'd been drugged and interrogated back at manticore, but she doesn't know how that's possible - and keeping a wary eye out for those she'd seen in the hellscape she'd just gotten back from. ]
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๐ฉบ helen magnus | sanctuary
day 40 [ locked to elena ]
And, damned if she is, Helen is a scientist.
One of the few methods to learn anything is by trail and error. Repeat the same experiment and see if it yields the same results. Which means venturing outside once again - this time it is into the fog. She is dressed warmly (of course) and a flash light in her hand. Not that it much helps with visibility... but it is better than nothing. ]
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day 38 [ locked to malcolm ]
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daisy johnson | mcu
day 37 ยป closed to neal
and i don't want the sun to burn without you
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hardison | leverage | days 38 + 39, OTA
On the other hand, Eliot is not currently dead despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, which instantly only improves Hardison's emotional standing. And the people he's met here so far, they're cool. Maybe weird, but cool. That's the only real metric he needs.
It balances out just enough to get him doing some of the looking around that he couldn't manage in his first couple of days. The buddy system of "Hardison elects someone as his buddy by being in his vicinity" is still in place, if slightly relaxed. There are almost always people vaguely around. And the most important one, no offense entire population, he's routinely probably popping in to keep tabs on.
He never wins against the itch of idle hands, though. He's used to having something to do. He's used to having about eight things to do that he can go between, some for groundworking upcoming jobs, some for fun, some for the creative outlet. The lack of activities is untenable. Hence a newfound availability lineup: ]
[ Reel Rentals.
Truly, a must. He finished picking apart the VCR he was occupying himself with. He put it back together. It's a VCR, alright. And because he is a criminal, he does not care about the membership card.
Well, maybe he can be seen digging around behind the counter because it might be fun to have one in the moments when he is not forced to think about how much he hates it here. But apart from that, he's poring over the titles at hand. Yes, maybe he has nabbed one of the good Star Treks for comfort. Movies are entertainment, entertainment is good, end of story and he'll make it happen, buddy who might not know they are currently his buddy. They are about to know, because here he is, with another tape in hand. ]
What do you think the Rotten Tomatoes ranking was on 'The Amazing Colossal Man'? Out of curiosity. 'cause I won't lie, I'm tempted.
[ Matheson Antiques.
Antiques are cool. Sort of. They were at least cool when he was looking through misfit inventions that one time in the U.S. patent office. Mostly, antiques are possibly very useful and interesting to take apart and repurpose. He lives in Portland now, he's on the cutting edge of technology, yes, he will ruin an antique if he has to.
Hardison might regret stepping in here for the navigational difficulties of his size alone. It's a drawback to be tall now? Apparently. But he'll persevere. Poke around, maybe pocket some interesting little shiny bits and bobs with his gremlin criminal hands. You never know what might come in handy. Plus it makes him think of Parker, who would probably navigate this with impossible grace and silent feet and clock valuable material from across the room.
And thinking of Parker is never bad.
Eventually, what may or may not be a cool and tough and not at all high-pitched (that is to say, high-pitched) shriek. Then, moments later: ]
Clown paintings from the seventies aren't antiques, people! Trying to make me jump back into something and get tetanus-- man, I'm not, I'm not even staying in here, this is uncalled for.
[ RIP Hardison we knew ye well. ]
[ wildcard.
for whatever else! he'll be in other places and out and about, etc., feel free to hit me up if you have other ideas and we can make it happen! ]
Day 39 - afternoon - Antiques
They're on velvet. That's a lost art form.
[Why yes, he's joking.]
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