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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 » 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 ♫ 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 ♫ 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.
— 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.
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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"Need me to do anything?"
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“Do you want to help yourself to some coffee and then make some toast?” he asks.
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"I can definitely do the toast." Although he gives the other a scrutinizing look for just a moment.
"How long have you been up, man?" He's so fucking wide-eyed and ready for the day.
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He glances over at the question. "A few hours or so," he guesses. "I got up... a little while after the screaming."
He let Neal have some peace, though it didn't seem to be doing the artist much good.
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Malcolm is up and about though.
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NIGHT 37/38, PRE-TUNNELS, POST-LIBRARY (CW for self-harm mentions)
He stared into the quiet of the house, straight ahead, determinedly not looking into the living and toward the dying fire. He didn't want to be here. He wasn't sure where he wanted to be. The only other place that made sense was curled up with Daisy, but that's gone, and he's the reason why. He was always the reason why. Neal leaned his head back until it rested against the door, the chill of the window.
Neal realized absently that he was crying and closed his eyes, trying to stop it. If he didn't have a promise to keep with Malcolm, he might have turned around and walked back out the door and wandered until something drew him in again. Some little pocket of darkness. If Daisy hadn't told him to go home, he probably would have done it already. Somehow, her voice in his head kept him in place.
Please, just go home.
(Take care of yourself, Caffrey, Sara whispers, and presses one last kiss against his lips.)
He finally opened his eyes, finally looked toward the fire in the living room. One step, then another, he made his way over to it, heart in his throat.
(This wasn't leaving the house, it wasn't putting his life in danger--)
(--blood on the snow--)
(--he was safe here, he knew it academically even as terror thundered in his veins.)
(That wonderful, confusing terror.)
He swallowed, licked dry lips, tried to swallow again. Then reached one hand out toward the fire. He told Daisy--god, it felt like a million years ago now--he told her about what he used to do, after Kate died.
There were days when I would just hold my hand over a candle when I was alone. See how long I could take it without it leaving a mark. Try to imagine what it was like to lose yourself that way, all at once.
He didn't have to wonder any more.
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However quietly the door closed, the person staring at the ceiling, waiting for that sound, heard it. It could have been Neal coming back. Or Doc. Or Doc and Raylan.
There was no soft creak of feet on the stairs that followed.
After a few minutes, Malcolm got up and crept down them instead. The shape of the figure hunched, trembling, by the fire - reaching for it - was familiar.
What he was doing was familiar too.
“Neal?”
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The fire at his back made him sweat for reasons that were completely unrelated to the heat. Still, he didn't move away from it.
"Hey. I didn't wake you up, did I?"
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He knew Neal had told him he would come back, because there wasn't anyone else for night shift. But. Neal was allowed to choose his girlfriend instead.
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Day 39 - OTA
During the day he can be found out and about in Mathias or at 1306.
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There is no indication of where Doc had gone after the birthday party cleanup was completed but given that the big crate was missing and he isn't across the street, and he only takes from the store what nobody else wants to take at the end of the night, it rules out many places he could have gone.
Malcolm will find him in the house with the quirky phallic colourful glass objects, a tray of eggs and a long pack of bacon and some fresh-looking leek sticking out of his crate of ill-gotten gains sitting on the coffee table as he sits on the back of the couch watching the blobs come to life in the lava lamp.
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He stepped into the house, setting his empty crate next to Doc’s partly full one, and takes a seat next to him.
“The top of the bottle is cooler than the bottom, so the blobs expand in the heat at the bottom, become less dense and float up. At the top they cool, become more dense and sink,” he explained quietly, his eyes on the colourful liquid. “I hear they’re entertaining for hours if you’re high.”
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"I am not high," he confirms without taking his eyes away from the lava lamp. It had seemed like big chunks of wax when it was turned off. Dull. Uninteresting. This most certainly is not.
"Haven't been high in much longer than I would like. Although I have made some... questionable decisions after three hours sessions of smoking opium."
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He looked at Doc sidelong.
"Right. Opium would have been a thing in your time. Did you start it because of your illness? For the pain?"
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slides on in here like a baseball player diving for home oops
Well, he's doing a dumb thing. He's circling the museum, one of Doc's warnings crumpled up in his hand. He hasn't gone in. He's kept himself from doing that, kept himself at bay imagining Daisy's face. Doc's efforts to keep people out. That's why he's got the warning crumpled in his hand still--less as a statement of opinion than a reminder.
He does about five minutes of circling before he forces himself away from the building and toward the woods.
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Then he heads for the woods.
Malcolm follows.
"Neal!"
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He shakes his head. "I'm fine, Malcolm!"
Said over his shoulder as he starts walking again.
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Day 40 - Closed to Raylan Givens and Neal Caffrey
From the garage, he gathered the ladder, the kerosene lantern (after carefully refilling it) and made sure his notebook, phone and pen were tucked into his jacket before heading across the street to 1307. He set the ladder and lantern down and crouched to pull the trapdoor open, looking down into the hole before turning to grab the ladder.
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Maybe the profiler was there.
No so far as he could find, but when he opened Neal's door and saw the man awake, he couldn't help but ask in a hushed morning type whisper, "Hey. You seen Malcolm this mornin'? He come in here at all?"
Raylan was trying not to panic, but he could feel the starts of the agitated worry claw at his spine.
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He threw his blankets back, getting up at once. "When was the last time you saw him?"
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He pushed the door open a little more as he waited. "He's not downstairs, there's no coffee. I've checked the whole house. Something's wrong." After all they'd been through, he didn't think he was being dramatic.
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"Has he said anything about... anything? Going somewhere, meeting someone, or..."
Neal shook his head, snatching a pair of socks off the floor. (What the hell, when had he left them there?)
He gave Raylan a hunted, haunted look. "Has he said anything about. Wanting to go places he shouldn't? Dangerous places."
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