villagelogs | 037-040 » the reason for time

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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.

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"Bucky?" she calls out again, something about the pieces she's catching cluing her into things not being okay. As if him calling out in the first place wasn't concerning enough...

Turning toward where she thinks he is, she reorients herself, determined not to get lost in this mess, and starts forward as quickly as she dares. The last thing they need is her hurting herself in her weakened state while trying to help him. She's the one doing the rescuing today, thank you.

"Bucky, I need you to keep talking to me, okay? Stay where you are, but keep talking." Since she doesn't know what state he's in, she opts for the tone she uses with scared civilians during incidents. Stay calm, take charge, project the sense that things are going to be okay.

Rusted.

Just after the second word, he hears her, clear enough that he can recognize her voice and process her instructions, but it doesn't last long. For a few short, distressed-filled seconds, Bucky waits to see her face manifest from the fog in front of him. Only it doesn't happen and the urgency comes back tenfold when he can hear Vasily continue.

It was like a countdown. Only he didn't know what would happen after all the words were spoken. Right then, his mind was convinced the programming was not removed. Not completely.

Seventeen.

"Stop.. I can't make him stop. I can't see him."

Daybreak.

"Stop..."

Stop. The second time she hears that word, caution goes right out the window with her plan. Her steps come faster, almost a jog as she reaches out with powers not fully cooperating, trying to make sure she doesn't run into something or someone. What she does do is trip over the curb as she moves off the street, leaving her careful path behind as Bucky's voice gets ever closer—

And then there he is, right in front of her so suddenly that she nearly crashes into him. Her hands even come up just in case, but she manages to stop just in time.

Furnace.

He can feel himself getting further and further away from the rational thinking that this couldn't happen. Yet, paralyzing fear freezes him in the spot he's in as he waits for the monster within to be unleashed. His mind still remembers the slow and steady separation; the mental tearing of one identity to make room for the other. And like each time it happens, intense white-hot pain radiates through his head, causing him to vocalize it in an agonized growl.

Nine.

Feeling someone's presence, his eyes flash wide open and as soon as he sees Daisy's face Bucky worries for her safety, attempting to step back before he ends up teetering forward and almost into her.

The way he looks at her was something that wouldn't be able to be described in one word, maybe not even two. It was excruciating and heartrending and beyond upsetting and would be especially so for the woman in front of him that knew exactly what his mind was trying to put him through.

But the words stopped.

He's unsteady, she can see that in a single glance. The way he stands, the look on his face... Shit, the look on his face. It's like a knife in her heart to see those emotions written across his expression. Seeing that look on anyone would be upsetting, but on him — it's like looking in a mirror from years past.

In that moment, Daisy could have leveled this entire goddamn town and not thought twice about it. Truthfully, the only thing that keeps the earth from shaking with her pain is the need to help him. That drive overwhelms anything else in her mind and forces the focus she needs to get through this.

"You're okay, Bucky," she tells him, the words gentle but firm, leaving no room for argument. "You are going to be okay. I won't hurt you." She holds out a hand toward his real one, not taking it yet because he deserves a choice. "I won't let anyone else hurt you. And I won't let you hurt anyone either. Okay?"

Anyone else and they were likely to be seeing a different Bucky altogether. What he needs is someone who can identify and be able to handle what was going on inside his head and gently guide him back again to the here and now. Even if the present was still as unsettling as it was.

He listens, dropping his gaze to her offered hand as a dark lock of hair tumbles down in front of his face, considering it only a short time because, for some reason, he feels he can trust Daisy. Her words. The certainty in her promise. The look in her eyes. He needs help and she's there offering hers.

Slowly he moves his hand out and lets Daisy take it.

Daisy's pretty sure there are only a handful of people in any world who could understand what Bucky's going through right now and she's just so glad that she's the one who found him. Even the briefest thought of what might have happened had anyone else found him terrifies her. Not only for what might have happened to that person but also for what it might have done to him.

Wrapping her hand around his, she holds it as tightly as she can manage. She's real and she isn't going anywhere without him.

With concern and determination in her eyes, she watches his expression closely for this next bit. "Are you good to move? We should get somewhere safe."

She may not know it or maybe even think it doesn't do much but that physical contact is something he needs very badly right then. It gives him that much-needed tether to reality that keeps threatening to snap and take him back to Hell where he still feels like he belongs.

His stomach lurches and flips and Bucky swallows the bile that threatens to come up every thirty or so seconds. But focuses on her face as best as he can when it isn't going blurry or moving from side to side.

"I think so-.." he answers, pushing up straighter in preparation to move even though he can't quite figure out where that somewhere safe was.

Moving closer to his side so her arm is nearly touching his and they can walk side-by-side, she reaches up to set her other hand on his forearm, making her hold on him just that much more solid. She'll be an anchor if he needs it, for as long as he needs it.

"Okay, then just focus on me," she coaches, tugging him gently forward back the way she'd come, keeping her steps slow as she starts feeling for the road she'd left behind. "My house isn't far and we'll be safe there." As safe as they can be in this town. "And if you need to stop, say so and we will, okay? I'm not leaving you."

Bucky focuses on her voice but the intensity of the dizziness and nausea seems to get worse with each moving step they make and before too long he's stopping to heave off without actually vomiting, though it's violent and full body.

He hears the next word. Only this time they were in Zemo's voice.

"Stop," he says rather weakly. "I need to stop a minute."

When they do he doubles forward and heaves again and again and out of frustration Bucky slams his fist into the asphalt, leaving a dent.

Daisy's beginning to feel ill herself, an unsettling dizziness sinking in along with slight nausea that isn't helped by the sounds of Bucky's own bodily distress. She doesn't lose control of her own body, though, forcing herself to breathe slowly and evenly through the worst of it because she has to keep it together for him.

His hand will be in hers for as long as he allows it, and if he pulls away, she'll stay close, making sure to keep a hand on his back with gentle pressure so he can feel that she's still there with him.

"I'm right here, Bucky," she assures him, hoping that the knowledge is actually reassuring. "We're going to get you through this, I promise." She'll keep that promise or die trying.

The feeling of throwing up wasn't going to pass and in his ill distracted state, Bucky has put together that the feeling has only worsened the longer he's been out there. He needs to get indoors. As soon as they can get there.

"It's the fog," Bucky says between ragged breaths before clearing his throat. "It's messing with my head."

He pushes up to his feet again and holds onto her, albeit unsteadily, but well enough to keep up with putting one foot in front of the other.

Of course, it's the fog. The stupid fog that had killed some of them just a few weeks ago, that scared them half to death if they tried to get into the forest. Does Bucky know about any of that? She can't remember if they've talked about it, if he was here for the town meeting.

"It's not much farther," is all she can offer as reassurance. Will this feeling fade if they get out of the fog? She just doesn't know.

Her grip on him is firm as they move, but she keeps one hand out now, sending out little vibrations in an attempt at her own version of echolocation. They've made it to the road now, turned toward her house, so she just has to keep count of the buildings as they go. Deciding to try her hand at a joke, she puts the tiniest bit of humor in her voice as she says, "Just don't throw up on me, okay? I hate doing laundry."

Unfortunately, the only part about the fog that he has learned in his ten days of being in Mathias is by way of the bulletin board. The people who posted those warnings did their job. But there was nothing relayed about the fog moving or what to do if you're caught in it.

Bucky scoffs in amusement but says nothing. He doesn't think he will, but he definitely isn't immune to throwing up like he is to a lot of other things and that has everything to do with what's been done to his brain over the last century.

He turns his gaze up to her and manages a little smile. "Never been a fan either."

Then again, no one really did in the thirties and forties.

That smile is the best thing she's seen all day.

"Another thing we have in common," she comments with her own tiny smile, counting it among the better similarities between the two of them. She'd much rather share a loathing for household chores than all the other shit they've each got stacked in their traumatic pasts.

"I think it's the next house." If she'd counted correctly. Please let it be the right house.

Bucky's finding it an easier thing to do around her with each passing day that goes by. Was that an indication of just how close he's allowed himself to get to someone when trust has never been a hard thing to give? Whatever it is, it feels right and that says something all on its own.

"It'd definitely not coincidence," he huffs out a laugh before feeling the rise in bile in his throat again. Bucky swallows it down and focuses harder by putting one foot in front of the other.

Once the little pathway comes into view off the curb, Bucky looks at Daisy.

"Please tell me this is it."

"I think so," she answers automatically, turning them to follow the path up to the front door. She can hardly see her own feet in the fog, so it takes concentration to feel for the steps up to the porch, to take them without tripping, but then there they are. The quiet creak of the boards is familiar, and when she reaches for the door, it's an indescribable relief to have it be the one she'd hoped for.

"We're here." The words are barely out of her mouth before she's swinging the door open and ushering Bucky inside to safety.

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037-040 » the reason for time

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