villagelogs | 037-040 » the reason for time

Entry tags:

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"

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.

navigation | faq | locations | report updates

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

“I had my charger with me,” Malcolm said. “You can use it if you need to.”

At the question, he also looked at Bucky.

Bucky shakes his head casually, ending it with a lift of his shoulders.

"I didn't," he blinks, glancing over at Malcolm before returning his attention back to Neal. "I was just looking for a book and heard you talking."

As they walk down towards the roadway, Bucky keeps moving, almost herding them along while Neal leads them to where he lives.

After an exhausted 'nap' that had lasted the better part of the day, a restless Daisy had decided on a late-night stroll. Possibly not the smartest idea given how often horrible things happened in the dark around here, but she wasn't defenseless and the metal flashlight she carried could be used as a weapon in a pinch.

The boarding house isn't too far from the house she'd chosen, so she decides on that as her destination, figuring she'll take a look to make sure everything's okay there before looping back. It's slow-going, in part because she's still recovering, but she's also not in much of a hurry.

Pulling her coat closer around her chilled body, she's crossing the street when she spots them out of the corner of her eyes — two very familiar figures and a third she remembers seeing at the town meeting. Why they're all together at this hour, coming out of the library...

"Hey, guys," she calls over, stopping in the middle of the empty street to face them. There's a wariness to her tone that matches her expression. "Whatcha doin'?"

Neal is reminded very powerfully of Peter for a moment. He immediately feels sheepish, a little guilty, and not at all eager to share what they were actually doing.

"It was my idea," Neal says, wanting to shield Malcolm from this as much as possible. Technically, his idea was to go to the museum, not the library. But that particular detail isn't relevant. "We."

He looks back at the library again, picturing the stairs, that darkness below, and feeling another compulsive pang. He forces himself around to look at Daisy. "We were going to check the library tunnel. Since it's not blocked any more."

“A perfectly normal venture for a...” He frowned faintly assessing her for a moment, then looked at Neal.

Why were they explaining themselves?

“Who’s this?” he asked, leaning over like that gave them privacy and the sidebar wasn’t audible to everyone.

"Daisy," Neal said, not bothering to keep his voice quiet. He'd told Malcolm about her, since their kiss. He'd told Malcolm about their date, too--almost unavoidably, since he'd spent the better part of a day folding paper flowers in the living room.

"Daisy... This is Malcolm."

Edited 2021-03-08 01:18 (UTC)

Daisy. He’d heard of her, of course. Doc had spoken of her. Raylan had spoken of her. So had Mr Coulson and Klaus and Neal. He’d had no idea what she looked like, though. His eyes widened slightly as he considered that information.

“...Oh. I... it’s a pleasure. Doc was really concerned about you when you were missing; you should check in with him from time to time.”

And despite the fact that he didn’t expect Doc or Raylan home that night, he didn’t expect Neal to come back to 1306 just for the night shift if his girlfriend was looking for him.

“Speaking of time...” He looked up at the sky. “It sure is late. I better be off. You know how it is.”

It takes Daisy by surprise despite the fact that it shouldn't. Neal had been heading toward a cave under the lighthouse earlier; the tunnel beneath the library seems a logical next step in this string of bad decisions. Staightening her back, she crosses her arms, watching both men very closely and only glancing at Bucky once. It's crystal clear that he wasn't involved in whatever this was — Neal doesn't mention him and he's awfully quick to clarify it was his idea.

Malcolm. Right. The man she'd wanted to try to help because she empathized with his problem and because Neal cared about him. She's suddenly feeling a bit less helpful now that he's involved in this ridiculous escapade.

The more the two men say, the more still she becomes. Like the calm of a storm, Daisy Johnson waits for her moment, harnessing the emotions she's feeling, gathering them up until—

"What the hell were you two thinking?" There's ice in those words, so cold it burns. She is furious and about to go off.

Neal braces himself, but he still can't stop the hangdog look that crosses his face.

"Daisy, I." He knows there's something wrong with him. He knows there is. He's aware of that much. But he has no idea how to explain it. The constant itch, the near-desperation to find the dark places in this town, to be close to the fire literally and figuratively.

"I'm sorry," he finally says. He drags his hands through his hair, unable to meet those enraged eyes. They just died. They both just died.

Malcolm frowned faintly at him. Okay, it was maybe a little bit reckless, but it didn't deserve an angry dressing down.

He put up his hands.

"You don't have to agree with it, but all this..." He made a gesture that vaguely encompassed her. "This isn't necessary. You're probably shaken up after everything that's been going on, but so is everyone. Including him. And we're all just trying to get by, okay?"

While he listens, Bucky can't help but sympathize a little with Neal. He doesn't know Malcolm so seeing him as anything more than the chatty little dog following after the bigger dog in the cartoons. Forever trying to sow the seeds of suggestion.

But he understands what it's like to feel so far removed from oneself that it's hard to explain anything, let alone certain compulsions. Like the cave near the lighthouse. He didn't want to answer him and of course, Bucky respected that.

So, he continues to listen, but his eyes are on Malcolm before they glance Daisy's way again.

The apology almost calms that burning rage. Almost. But Malcolm's words just stoke it back to full strength as her gaze slides to the other man, the stranger trying to talk her down like she would someone in a fight.

Sorry, Malcolm. Better luck next time.

"You're right, Malcolm. I am shaken up, and so is he. We just died, in case you didn't get the memo." She bites the words out, using them as an outlet for her anger so it doesn't come out in ways that will leave them all shaking. Shifting her focus back to Neal, she shakes her head ever so slightly. "And apparently you're set on doing it again. You know what this town is capable of and still, you decided to go off on your own at night. What exactly was your plan here, Neal?"

"The memo?" Malcolm shot back. "I buried him. The pieces of him. The pieces of all of them. But he hasn't gone anywhere on his own."

He looked at Neal. "You can see me, right? I'm standing right here."

Neal tries to steady his breathing, but the phrase the pieces of him bring it all roaring back in.

Blood on the snow. (The rabbit or the boy, a St. Louis summer day, blood on the dirt.) That hideous lightness as he tried to drag himself away from the thing killing him. But it was done with him, it was after Negan. (A raptor with its talons buried in Neal's back, the blue sky and muggy heat.)

He's losing it.

Neal's right hand starts to tremor just a little, and he knots it into a fist, unconsciously mimicking Malcolm's own tic.

He licks his lips. "Malcolm, that's not. I don't think that's the point."

A deep breath. He presses his face into his hands for a moment before letting them drop. "I didn't have a plan," he says softly.

If Daisy were in a better mental state herself, she would have picked up on those signs from Neal. The changes in his expression. The tremor of his hand. The tone of his voice. She would have noticed and she would have backed down, approached this whole thing differently.

But she isn't in a better state. Her anger is turning to agony and she needs Neal to understand what he could have done. For as much as she wants to always hide her pain away so that no one can see it, she needs him to know that this hurt her. Because she can't do this again. If he can't fathom how much damage this could have caused, then they can't do this.

"Of course, you didn't," she says a bit softer, the ice thawing just enough to show the cracks, revealing that she's angry because she's scared and hurting. "You were just going to go have a nice walk through some underground tunnels the day after an earthquake, which you were told about hours ago."

She takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but it doesn't help. There's too much pain to stop now.

"Did you even tell anyone you were going down there? Doc?" She glances to Malcolm and back. "Raylan? Anyone? I'm betting you didn't. So if the tunnels weren't stable after that earthquake you were told about and they collapsed on you—" She shakes her head, anger and anguish warring for dominance in her expression. "What if you'd died down there? What if you didn't come back? No one would have known what happened to you!"

She goes quiet then, her arms tightening around herself. "I wouldn't have known."

"It's not about what we told or didn't tell Raylan and Doc. If we got trapped in the tunnel, they would have found us." He reaches out and gives Neal's arm a gentle squeeze. "Not that I'm advocating getting trapped places, but... he wasn't getting in the ring with a monster. He wasn't trying to get into the museum," he points out almost pointedly.

He looks at Neal.

"I'm going to go home. Poke your head in if you come back tonight, okay?"

So he'll know he's there, ostensibly, but... if he wants to take night shift... nobody has it, either.

He looks at Daisy and then at Bucky and then back at Daisy.

"It was nice to meet you both."

He puts his hand over Malcolm's for a moment, nodding silently. "I'll... Yeah, I'll be there. It's my night."

He hasn't forgotten that, in spite of everything.

Neal waits until Malcolm is out of earshot, digging his hands into his hair again. "I'm sorry," he says softly.

Daisy just lost Coulson. Again. Just told Neal she loved him. Just told him that, and he could have walked himself into a deathtrap and destroyed the fragile part of her that let herself admit it. He tries to breathe, but he can feel the muscles of his hand twitching even where he grips his hair. (Might not go away this time, get ready to live with it, good lucky trying to paint with a hand tremor.)

"Something's wrong," he whispers. He looks at Bucky, not sure he wants the other man to hear the admission, but he needs Daisy to know. He needs her to know that he wasn't doing it just because. That he wouldn't do that to her.

He finishes running his hands through his hair and laces his fingers together, resting them against the back of his neck. He looks up, finally, meeting Daisy's eyes. The pain in them twists his heart, fills his own eyes with tears. "I was headed for the museum when Malcolm caught up to me. He talked me out of it. He got me to go to the library tunnel instead."

He drops his hands and immediately clenches his right one again, trying to hide the shake. "We have a fireplace, we generally keep it going, and I... I can't breathe when I look at the flames. I can't--I don't want to be anywhere near it, but that just. Doesn't stop me. It doesn't stop me."

He shakes his head, not sure how else to explain.

He'd been... The museum? It's like a hit to the chest, the breath being knocked out of her at that admission. He'd been on his way to the museum and the tunnels had been a sufficient substitute. Something is wrong with him and it terrifies her because he can't seen to control it.

Her gaze falls to his clenched fist, registering that subtle shaking before what he says catches her attention. Those words don't match with the rest of what he's said — he hasn't said anything about being afraid of any of the other insanely dangerous things he'd gone toward like a moth to a flame.

That hit becomes a knife twisting in her heart, puzzle pieces coming together just like they always do, only this time she doesn't want to see the picture they're making.

"Neal, why are you afraid of fire now?" she asks quietly, her voice breaking slightly with emotion. He'd never mentioned that fear before and the way he'd phrased his explanation...

With Malcolm leaving and the talk taking a far more emotional turn, Bucky has to wonder if he should excuse himself, too. Only there's a look in Daisy's face, the only face he can really see since he's behind Neal. He remembers the first day they met and the talk they had in her kitchen about what they've each been through with Hive and HYDRA. Her emotion moved the house that day. That was only a small display of the potential it could have been.

So, he stays. Watching and listening to each, noticing the little things about each -- Neal's shaking hand and the way Daisy pulled her arms around herself because she's putting distance between herself and the situation for so many reasons that don't just end at one.

He moves up a step, an unconscious move that he's not sure he understands but finds himself doing anyway. There's a need to be there for them both.

Neal feels, ironically, like ice water just got dumped over him at her question. He hadn't told her. He hadn't planned on telling her. He swallows, mouth dry, knot in his throat.

"I didn't get out of town in time," Neal whispers.

Hearing confirmation of her fear causes a visceral reaction in Daisy: her jaw drops as she takes a step back. Two, needing to put distance between her and the man she'd failed to protect twice. Both times, she hadn't even known he'd died. And something is so wrong with him that he's willing to let it happen a third time.

Breathing is proving slightly more difficult than usual, each breath shaking in her lungs as she looks at the darkened street around them and struggles to process... anything. She presses a hand to her mouth, shuts her eyes tight, and tries to find the strength to keep it together until she's alone again.

She can't let them see just how much this is breaking her.

Neal reaches out, taking his own step forward. He can guess what she's thinking. Even after so short a time, they've been through too much for him not to have some idea. She reminds him of Doc, a little bit, so determined to take on everyone else's burdens without paying any attention to her own.

"I'm okay," he says, his voice still painfully quiet. "It isn't your fault. I was--"

Again, he was trying to help someone. Save someone. And again, he failed. "Raylan went back, to try and help people get out if they could. I followed him. It's not your fault. I didn't tell you b..."

He makes a soft sound, and he's not even sure what it means. Irony, or bitterness, or horrified amusement. "I wanted to protect you."

It isn't your fault. But isn't it always at least partially her fault when the people she loves are hurt? Through either her actions or inaction, their pain is always somehow tied back to her. It had been his choice to follow his friend, but if she'd been there, she could have done something.

It's like with Coulson. She's having to watch another person she loves die over and over again. And just like with Coulson, it's killing her inside.

But she can't lose control. Not here, not like this. So with a deep breath, she lowers her hand, her arms going around herself again because she's the only person she can stand to have hold her right now.

"I need you to go home, Neal," she tells him in a tired voice, everything about her beginning to convey just how exhausted she is. "Please, just go home."

He starts to gather a breath to say something, then realizes he has no idea what to say. It's like Sara. It's like Sara all over again, him stepping too far past the line for forgiveness. Only this time he knows exactly what he did. There's a helplessness in the look he gives her that he doesn't know is there, a desperation to fix this somehow, but should he even try when she just wants him to leave?

"...Okay," he says, his voice still barely a whisper. Again, he starts to say something, then lets it go half-spoken. A quiet I'm sorry that only gets as far as the first syllable.

He looks over at Bucky, nodding to him, a kind of silent thank you. The helpless desperation hasn't gone anywhere, and Neal hopes, he hopes that Bucky will take the look for what it is and stay with Daisy.

Neal looks at Daisy one last time, then crosses his own arms, the same kind of self-defensive gesture, and he walks away.

Some part of Daisy urges her to stop him, to go to him and make sure he knows that she still loves him despite the immense pain she's in. She's hurting because of that love. But her instincts for self-preservation are demanding distance, forcing her to stay where she is or run the other way, anything but going after him. It's actually a huge improvement compared to the past that she's able to just stand there even as her heart feels like it's breaking.

When Neal is out of earshot and disappearing down the street, she finally looks at Bucky, though she can't quite meet his gaze. Her voice is still tired and worn when she tells him, "Thank you for getting them out."

037-040 » the reason for time

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)