037-040 » the reason for time

[villagemod]

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 ♫ Kammarheit "Sleep after Toyle, Port after Stormie Seas"

DAY 037
THE DEAD RETURN
“The only reason for time is so that everything
doesn't happen at once.” —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.

---

CONDITIONS UPDATE

— 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?

---

OOC NOTES

— 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.

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Klaus Hargreeves | The Umbrella Academy

[bestfuneralever]

Plotting comment. Wildcards welcome. Prose by default.

{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

[bestfuneralever]

I. Graveyard [closed to fika]

{Tell the preacher not to pray, there’s no angels where I go

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 it’s not. That’s the first calming realization when he finally opens his eyes. This isn’t that place, and it’s 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 stomach— it’s just like all those times he’s 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 won’t reach your full potential if you don’t 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.

“Five?” 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]

{Got a head full of spiders and a heart that isn't whole

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

[ofthegeek]

Hardison can admit to the fact that he's maybe floundering a little. It's hard to keep pace with a day-long emotional punchfest. 'Abducted, Eliot's dead, impossible supernatural town stuck in the 90s, earthquake, Eliot's not dead--'

Things have been more lowkey since this morning, but it's not doing much apart from giving his brain some breathing room to circle back to how messed up everything is. But that kind of seems like what literally everyone is doing, so. So, he doesn't know what. It's still messed up.

He's valiantly attempting to give Eliot some breathing room for his own brand of processing. There are a lot of ways Eliot and Parker are alike. One of those ways is that they routinely need space. Not a personal slight. Just the way they're built.

Not being built that way himself, and, okay, no longer being quite so emotionally devastated down to the molecular level that he's on autopilot, Hardison circles back to the boarding house. A place where people probably usually are. The ideal.

He sort of can't not wind up sitting himself on the other end of the couch that Klaus winds up on.

Not so much for the sparkling social air hovering around it as it is the sight of someone sitting all alone and looking miserable. His experience is, people who know for sure that they wanna be completely alone will go ahead and do that. Everything else is an invitation that simply may or may not be extended to him.

He fits, therefore he sits.

"Anything good on?"

Gently offered: yes. Funny? Debatable.

[bestfuneralever]

Ever since his death, he's been on some sort of high-alert. Sounds seem louder than they should, and the new presence in the room, soft footsteps and a quiet voice to accompany them make him jump. He huffs a nervous sort of sound at the question, "Wouldn'tcha know, it's the same damn thing on every channel?"

"You, uh- you must be new." He doesn't recognize him, and Klaus thinks he's at least seen, if not outright met, just about everyone here. People are showing up all the time, so it's an easy leap to make, all considered.

Plus, who knew what happened while he was gone? One day is all it takes to tilt the world on its axis around here.

[ofthegeek]

A little playing along goes a long way. It nets an easy grin.

The 90s tech is a throwback. The settling in is like its own weird little throwback to getting moved to a different foster home, one that already had some longer-term kids around. Childhood but make it creepy and deadly and everyone is skittish.

"Yeah, I showed up yesterday. So if this is the Do Not Disturb couch, I'll move, it's no problem, but." A shrug. "Maybe you guys should have put up a sign. Just sayin'."

Hardison is moderately sure there's no such thing as Do Not Disturb couches. Appealing for firm boundaries, though.

"Alec Hardison. Sucks to be here, good to meet you."

[bestfuneralever]

The tech is, weirdly, the one thing that seems the most normal to him. By all accounts, a lot of people seem to feel it's outdated, which makes him wonder what other people's worlds were like, and what happened in theirs that made tech advance so much faster, somehow?

"I don't think we have a Do Not Disturb couch," he admits, amused. And god, isn't that better than everything else?

He nods, scoffing in amused disbelief, "Yeah... it does, but hey." he offers a hand in extension for a shake. "I'm Klaus. I've...been here, uhm-" he stops and tries to think about it. "I- I don't know. It's hard to keep up. Three weeks? Mmmaybe a month, by now." Five probably knew. He was the Time Keeper, after all, surely he knew exactly how long each person that had arrived had been here.

graveyard :c

[fika]

Five hadn't slept much in the last two days. Not a remarkably difficult or even worrying thing, in the face of what's happened. Hell, he isn't sure where he even spent the night, blinking back and forth between Boarding House and the crude graveyard and the beach, and the tree line, exhausting his power until he'd be forced to his knees, throwing up somewhere in a dark corner. Doesn't stop him for long, flitting in and out of space. Thinking and thinking and thinking back to the pictures and the dates and the creeping thoughts of enough, enough enough. When does this place fuck with them so completely that its too late to try and force his way into the time and space when they could get answers?

It feels hopeless, in a way and it isn't an unfamiliar feeling. But maybe with it comes the important, and dangerous question of what is there left to lose?

But it's sometime in the overcast day, when Five makes another round to the beach, and beelines to the graveyard that he sees the familiar, lanky shape of someone too familiar.

His breath stutters, catches in his throat and he hates that the first feeling that hits him is panic. Pure and simple but he clenches his fists and as soon as the faintest sounds of Klaus' voice hit his ears, he blinks forward.

Distance covered in a span of seconds and he's at Klaus's side, crouching in front of him, hand settling on his calf and jaw set and eyes sharp and clear and dark. "Welcome back," he croaks out. All he manages to say at all.

[bestfuneralever]

He grabs his brother's wrist, fingers circling the smaller frame, and he can feel the thready thrum of Five's pulse under his fingers. The comfort of confirmation he needed immediately and didn't think his brother might stop as quickly as other ways.

"Hey. Are- are you- I didn't see you. In the other place." His mind is moving a hundred miles a minute, and it makes it hard to focus on which part to put out in the world as words. That seems as good a place to start as any, though.

[fika]

Five doesn't ask Klaus if he's okay. Can't find it in him to ask such a bullshit question and his stomach rolls, hand landing on his brother's shoulder, and not shrugging the touch away.

"What place?" He asks stiffly. "What the hell are you on about?"

He hasn't spoken to anyone else who has returned - couldn't bring himself to actually give a shit. It was terrible to admit, but he knew it to be true. A sort of pragmatic callousness that comes with years of compartmentalizing and until he saw Klaus, he was fine with continuing to do so.

Of course, that part of coping was still there - breaking things into bite sized pieces and shoving them so far away into the corner of his mind until he would stop focusing on the parts that ached.

It worked less than he'd like in the face of Klaus' existence. And while his face twists with confusion, concern, it's in microexpressions. Suggestions of fractures because he can't crack. Not now, because it's not important. Never has been.

"Look, I'll get you out of here, okay?" in this case, he means the graveyard. He doesn't like it either, but he knows it bothers Klaus more. "Then we can talk. Alright?"

[bestfuneralever]

Klaus can barely get his thoughts in order to answer in anything like a timeline manner, so he just nods dumbly as Five says he'll get them out of here-- it's all he wants right now, anyway. Away from the graves. The dead. Something in his chest twist sharply, and his stomach lurches.

But maybe that was the result of Five moving them, and not his own panic and fear trying to make him retch. He's not sure he'll ever get used to the feeling of it. He steadies his feet under him and blinks to clear his vision only to realize this isn't their Mathias-based home. He knows Five can't always control his powers as well here, so he doesn't comment on it.

Fatigue is catching up to him fast and he pushes a hand through his hair, sighing as his hand comes to rest on the back of his neck. He wanders through the corner store aisle and grabs the first thing he sees-- a gas station sized bag of chips that he opens. He shoves a chip in his mouth and pretends that's all he wants while he tries to sort out where to even start explaining everything to Five.

Day 038

[bestfuneralever]

I.1306 Philips Dr [closed to residents]

{Wake me when it’s over like a bad dream

As acclimated as he could be to being back from the other side of dead, Klaus agonizes over the scars he’s ended up with from that night. He can cover the ones on his ribs and his shoulder easily enough but the one on his neck is another story. He tries to hide it with makeup he’d picked up ages ago now, but it can only do so much. They’re all faded, like old wounds long since healed, but he can see it and can only assume anyone paying close enough attention will notice too.
(Malcolm. Malcolm will notice, he thinks distantly).

Klaus refuses to be any more obvious or self-conscious about it than that; he won’t wear a bandage or a scarf to cover it up (and subsequently draw even more attention to something wrong). So once he grabs a jacket and tugs on his shoes, he sets down the now all-too-familiar path from the boarding house to 1306. He doesn’t know if any of them might even want him there but… he can’t stay in the boarding house and pretend he doesn’t just need to be around people. The ones that have become his people in this town.

He doesn’t want anything. He doesn’t even want to talk about any of it. He just needs the presence of other people in a more condensed space than the sprawl of the boarding house.

[1 door answer response; first come/first serve]

Klaus pauses outside the door and debates leaving without even alerting anyone to his presence here. He shouldn’t put his shit on them when they were all surely dealing with their own fucked up hellacape issues themselves.

But—

He knocks anyway.

[OTA residents once inside.]

Klaus finds himself welcomed inside— whether out of obligation or otherwise— and mostly keeps to any area of the house where the most people are congregated at one time. If he can get away with it, he might sit closer than usual or chatter noticeably more incessantly than typical for him as well.

An anxious energy courses sharply through him and he can’t seem to sit entirely still, either. Something feels bad. Wrong. It feels like Death. Except not? He isn’t sure, and maybe dying like he’d done had messed with his powers? Maybe it’s all in his head. Either way, being here, in this house, with these people, helps quiet the drowning noise in his head in a way he can’t find anywhere else in this town.

Opening the Door

[abrightboy]

When the knock comes, Malcolm opens the door. He's been quietly trying to help out since Raylan, Neal and Negan came back.

When he sees Klaus there, he pulls him into a tight hug.

He doesn't have to notice the scars; he knows they're there. He's seen Raylan's up close and he understands that all of the returned will have them, that they'll be the seams where they were torn apart.

When he releases him, he looks him in the face.

"Come in," he says. He doesn't ask if he's okay. Of course he's not.

[bestfuneralever]

Though he would have been fine to see anyone on the other side of that door, Klaus can't deny he's kind of glad it was Malcolm answering. "Hey," He mumbles softly as he falls easy into that hug, leaning to meet him halfway, clinging tightly until the other man lets go first.

"Thanks," he nods and walks inside, pushing the door shut behind him. He wants to say something, even opens his mouth to speak, but... every question that comes to mind dies on his lips because it feels like a stupid question.

Finally, he settles on, "So...what're you doing today?"

[abrightboy]

“I think we’re all just trying to.... find ourselves again,” Malcolm told him. “But the food is back. For now anyway. Have you eaten since you got back?”

[bestfuneralever]

He just nods a little at that; it's a little bigger, and a little deeper, than he wants to go right this second. But he nods again at the question. "Yeah, I... I have. And-- that's. Good. About the food." He adds the second part almost haphazardly, like an after-thought, something he realized he should say.

He follows Malcolm further into the house, hands resting awkwardly at his hips as he hopes for something else to talk about. But the silence, though not outwardly all that long, feels like it goes on forever, and Klaus can't handle it. So he just blurts out, "I didn't wanna be alone." A beat passes and he adds, "I mean, Five's there, and- and the others, in the boarding house, but- I just...needed people around, you know? And...your house is kinda always full, in some capacity or another, you know?"

He sits down on the couch, back pressed into the corner of it. He toes his shoes off, and hugs his legs up to his chest.

[vampirebats]

Negan is so fucking far from okay, but he's trying to put on the good old Negan look. The good old Negan act that makes him feel like he can take on anything, be in control of any goddamn situation. He knows it's all a goddamn lie in the worst way though.

So maybe he's grateful when Klaus comes around, all in one piece too. He's grateful to hear the incessant chatter about everything and nothing since maybe he's not up to his usual chatty self tonight. If Klaus gets in close when they've both sat on the couch, he might notice an arm slung loosely around his shoulders as Negan offers up a grin.

"Man, and people tell me I could stand to take a breath once in a while," he teases, and it's probably obvious with the fond note in his tone.

"How are you holding up there?"

[bestfuneralever]

Klaus doesn't care if it's a mask, Negan being himself is a comfort that he can't explain right now. Either the other man has caught on through these last few weeks how tactile he is, or Negan needs touch just as much as Klaus does; either way, he's glad for it all the same.

He leans into Negan's side when that arm slides over his shoulders, tilting his head over onto the other man's shoulder. "Sorry," he mutters softly, "I just- I don't know. I feel like I have...spiders in my head. I don't know how to ignore it, besides talking."

[vampirebats]

He's not sure which it is, honestly. Maybe he wants to contact, the reminder that he fucking exists, warm and in the flesh and not in that-- place burning alive still. Maybe he doesn't deserve it though.

Not that it stops him from leaning his head in Against Klaus' when he rests on his shoulder like that. "I didn't say I minded, did I?" He starts quietly.

"I keep thinking about it, about other shit. We all need distractions."

[thering]

Now that it is fall, Doc had been planning on returning back to the porch for his poisons of choice for pain relief. He has had to reconsider once Malcolm and Neal flashed him that panicked look. Raylan and Negan on their part at least did semi-decent jobs pretending it didn't give them the 'heebie-jeebies'.

He would not be evicted from his post by some phantom fuckoffcoyotewendigowerewolf that might or might not return. But he would spare the gentlemen the anxiety and compromise, over the next few days, to sit in the relocated outdoor furniture just behind the semi-open garage door.

Eventually when the cluster of warm bodies in the house gets sick of Klaus's mindless chatter, he would find an unspoken open invitation in a vacant seat next to Doc, who has a cigarette in one hand and is slowly flipping through a photo book about space in the other. Although he tends to spend most of his time out and about, lately he has lingered within close orbit. Doc is always there like a permanent fixture of the house, ready to drop everything and come running at a moment's notice if anyone needs him, but otherwise keeps to himself. Probably on account of not knowing what, exactly, to say, and being tired of dismissing all the apologies and empty promises the recently resurrected have been making.

[bestfuneralever]

Klaus needs people, that's his thing, it's how he ends up in crowds of them nearly anywhere he goes. But even the most extroverted people need a few minutes to step out of the crowd and take a breath. That's how he finds himself out in the garage.

"Oh, hey..." he blinks in surprise. He hadn't expected anyone to be out here. But... if anyone was, he's not against it being Doc's calming presence to join him. Or for him to join, rather. "Got another one of those?" he gestures to the cigarette in his hand.

[thering]

He lifts his head and turns to look at Klaus, the unfamiliar voice snapping him out of his photo book. Closing it, Doc gets to his feet and gestures to the vacant seat next to him before sitting down again when Klaus does. His book gets set aside and he maintains that lean as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his flat tin case that he had put cigarillos in, now replaced with cigarettes. Flicking it open, he holds the row of sticks out to Klaus.

"Matches are behind you," he points out, on that little ledge which houses the electronics that operate the garage door where there is an empty moonshine bottle being used to store the cigarette butts.

"It is good to see you." Doc is relieved that Klaus is back. Five... had not been in a good place, before. Although he can't be certain that Five is in a good place now either. Often it is better to come to accept the finality of a chapter to be closed than to live in perpetual uncertainty.

[tinstar]

It was later in the day when Raylan came home, slipping himself upstairs to take a shower and wash the worst of the moonshine smell off him and out of his hair before letting anyone stop him long enough to notice. A half hour later, he came back down, smelling of Clean and Pine, flannel buttoned up like he was going to the office so that the collar held a little more tightly around his neck.

When he sees Klaus, he stops for a long moment, eyes trained on his face as he replays their last conversation which lead right into being dropped back into the writhing pain, inescapable- trapped- before tilting it slightly and stepping into the kitchen in silent invitation. If Klaus wanted to even talk to him after seeing the kind of fury that Raylan could generate, the kind of rage that Raylan swallowed in all it's barbs in front of what he would call 'polite company'.

A rage that wasn't gone.

There wasn't much of any privacy in the kitchen with it's cutout wall to the livingroom, but it was a little distance at least. They could take it out to the back porch if they needed. But what he needed and wanted first was some coffee. Something to sober him up around the edges, not that a lotta people could tell when he'd been drinking if he wasn't too far gone. So that's what he'd do.

[bestfuneralever]

Klaus had made a swing back by the boarding house, mostly to let Five know of his decision to crash at the cowboy house, but also to grab some clothes. He had made the decision sometime halfway into trading stories with Negan, half slumped in his lap as he listened. He’d had a shower and was in pajamas (but then, he practically lives in the most comfortable clothes he can find, if late) already by the time Raylan got back.

He’s sprawled across the couch with his feet propped up on the arm, a curious brow arching at the beeline way Raylan enters the house and disappears for a short while.

Then, there he is again, hurrying into the kitchen but only after taking an almost uncomfortably long moment to stare at Klaus before scurrying off abruptly.

Weird.

He can’t help it. He’s a cat and curiosity will be the death of him.

He swings his legs over the side of the couch and pushes himself to his feet. He leans on folded arms against the sill that sits on either edge of the cut-out between the kitchen and the living room. “Whatcha doin’?” It’s casual enough to not raise any specific alarms just yet, but Klaus is looking, thought for what he isn’t quite sure yet.

[tinstar]

Raylan looked over sidelong from the underside of his hat, face curling around the edges at the way Klaus and his energy draped themselves over the wannabe breakfast bar like just being there would manifest soft pillows and, if Raylan's creative mind was close to the mark, too much weed. But for all that, the lean man had a little too much experience in being a mess for Raylan to be wholly relaxed. Between the drinking and the scars on his face and the shame over his anger being seen... He'd pretend - he had plenty of practice in that.

That'd be plenty to avoid being seen in such a way, right?

"Coffee," Raylan replied, just as casually. "Since this place doesn't agree with providin' enough for sweet tea. You want some? Since it looks like you're crashin' here for the night." Which he didn't mind, at all. Figuring the Hargreeves would be sticking together after the past few traumatic nights, he continued- "Five joinin' you?"

Day 40

[bestfuneralever]

I. Can we talk for a minute [closed to fika]

{Thoughts keep bouncing in my brain.

Maybe it’s the way that insistent feeling of being cursed keeps bouncing around inside the far reaches of his mind; maybe it’s because he had died. Maybe it’s because the thought has floated in and out of his thoughts for awhile now. But whatever it is? Something tipped the weight forward and made him want to talk to Five about the idea.

Whenever his brother pops himself back into their room at the boarding house for the night. He won’t instantly bombard him, lets Five settle as much as he ever might. But eventually, Klaus pipes up. “You trust the guys at thirteen-oh-six, right?”