villagelogs | 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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Neal makes a soft noise of amusement at the slight toward Texas. Not that he's going to come to the state's defense. He's been there exactly once, and wouldn't go back unless forced.

"Grace, like water, flows to the lowest part," Neal says, the quote more musing than delivered with flare. "It's easy for people to look down on what they've never had to live."

"Mm," he hummed in agreement. "It's been a pastime for carpetbaggers. Same story for years upon years upon years. Takin' advantage and buyin' us out of land to blow the tops off our mountains, to send slurry down into those lowest part of the land."

He shut himself up there, before he got too far into it, jaw tensing as he searched for something to put a kinder point on the end of it all.

"Just the way of the world." No use fussing over it.

Neal wishes he had anything to counter that with. Back in the world, he always has something to say. A quote, a quip, a bit of encouragement. The way of the world never has to be the way it is. Not for an individual, anyway. For one person, there's always a way out.

Neal has never pretended to be a hero. He's never pretended to be unselfish, or noble, or anything of the kind. But he recognizes now more than he used to the fact that he knows the way of the world, and it's a big part of what he's been running from since he was eighteen.

"You love it," Neal says softly. "Kentucky."

"I used to. Thought it was God's cradle when I was young, before things starting gettin' sour in a way that kids notice. In a way that told me it wasn't just my house got ugly. That it wasn't all fireflies and humid summers playin' in fallow fields. It's where I come from." He huffed a smile behind his glass.

"No matter where I go, I can't shake it off me. After a few years, I stopped tryin'." Drink taken, he set the glass back down. "Don't you carry New York? It's.. areas? I dunno where the splits are between the suburbs and the cities. A son of the streets. Your streets were just paved."

"Adoptive son," Neal clarifies, smiling. "But yes. No matter where I go, no matter what I see or do, I always come back to New York."

His eyes fall to his own glass. "I love it there. I've loved it there since my first day. Since my first crappy apartment in Bed-Sty. I got mugged twice while I was there, but somehow my wallet always found its way back to my pocket. Along with a couple other ones."

"Places that we grew up are imbedded in us, no matter how hard we try." Raylan's jaw worked for a second, glass bottom turning on the bar top for a second before he continued.

"I'd ask if it was the buildin's or the people, but I know it's both. For all their flaws, all their dirt and crass.. That's the charm though, isn't it? Doesn't hurt that New York is the place to be for upper class society. I'm pretty sure that and y'alls soft faces are why you and Malcolm get on so well. You got a favorite place? I'd tell you mine but really, it's out of the state, any where."

For all his love, Raylan still didn't want to live there. It was the South. There was always Good and Bad. Just like everywhere else.

Neal laughs outright when Raylan calls his face soft. He can't help it, and god it feels good. "We're also pretentious and offended by flannel."

He doesn't have to think that hard about his favorite place in New York. "The Met. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, I mean. I'll never see their whole collection, or finish learning about all the artists they have on display. And the history. All that history, all in one place. All those masters. It's like touring Olympus every time I walk in."

Raylan loved getting laughs. It made the air feel better, like it was a little less suffocating, it made Neal's face look better and it made some part of Raylan feel better. There was hope in it, somewhere.

"You'd both look great in flannel," he said only half teasing. They would.

He smiled at Neal's answer. "If I ever make it up that way, if we're in.. the same world.. I'd love to see it. I don't know much about history outside of Harlan but I know how important it is. For us as a whole. The arts, which not strictly my thing.. still important. All those people that come before us." Neal might be able to appreciate what part of it all interested Raylan. Not so much the creation of things but that they were able to be created at all. Human ingenuity.

"If we're in the same world, I'd love to take you," Neal says softly. It hadn't occurred to him that he and Raylan might very well be from the same Earth. The same America. He knows he doesn't share Malcolm's reality--there was never a serial killer called "the Surgeon" operating in New York, at least not one that got caught--but the idea that he might share Raylan's gives him a little pinch of hope.

"Wouldn't that be something, if we are from the same place. In the larger sense, that is."

His smiled pulled a little.

"That would be somethin' indeed. I was workin' under the assumption that we are.. Unless your world has aliens or.. magic or real life angels. Malcolm and I too - I never paid attention to New York or it's murderers unless it was part of a case. Not a lotta Ed Geins to pay attention to in the modern age. Less you count the Unibomber, I guess," he granted with a shrug of his features.

"No aliens that I know of, no magic, no real life angels. None that have deigned to show themselves at least."

He smiles a little, raising his glass to Raylan. "To ending up on the same side of things when we all get out."

"And show themselves to us lowly bastards?" Raylan scoffed, lifting his chin and his glass in a cheers. "To endin' up on the same side."

037-040 » the reason for time

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Yeah, great place to wrap it.