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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Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Use this space to ask general questions about this log and the circumstances or locations presented within. Players may also use this space to ping a mod to a thread to give feedback on the spooky happenings therein and to ask questions about exploring a residential housing location. (Updates and claims to housing locations should be made here.)

Use this space to ping the mod if you'd like to use one of your AP rewards (Idea, Spot Hidden, or Spooky Encounter). Submit your request using this form:

Requested reward: Idea, Spot Hidden, or Spooky Encounter
Characters involved: Please list all characters who will be involved if claiming a Spot Hidden or Spooky Encounter. You can also add characters by mentioning them in a later comment.
Link to thread: If available/applicable. May also be added in later comment.
Additional details: Location where this is happening, the circumstances of the character being there/searching, their current mental and emotional state, what they are searching for, etc.

Requested reward: Characters involved: Link to thread: Additional details:

Regarding the scars left from fire damage - since I don't want to play a deep fried cowboy and referacing what I was told last time, could I get a little elaboration on the extent of 'Those who were injured by fire in the other realm also carry those burns with them', please?

Only those who were merely injured by the fire retain scars from it. Those who were killed in the fire have no scarring and suffer from pyrophobia.

Ah okay, thank you!

Has the greenhouse been opened yet?

If not, is that something that could be worked on ICly and/or does it require going through the reward system to access?

The greenhouse is open! The location info has just been updated.

Question about the temporary aboveground graves - so does that mean they need to be taken care of because there are still bodies there?

\o/!!

Could residents start working to clear it up, make it viable to plant some of those seeds?

There are still bodies there, yes. Bodies that will be warming up before too long.

Absolutely! Any significant headway in cleaning or planting should be submitted via a location update.

A. Day 037 - Wake Me Up Inside - OTA

There are trees.

There weren't trees before. There was fire.

There was fire and buildings were coming down and it was loud and the fire got him again and the last thought he had was almost a laugh because again, he literally just got ripped to shreds and died, that was his blood everywhere and he distinctly remembers dying so this can't be dying but it feels an awful lot like dying and now he's not.

Now he's not and he's here and he sits in next to the trees, trying to catch his breath, his eyes wide and it's not hot and he's not burned and he's here and he's not there and it's cool and he just sits, and sits, and sits.

He sits for a long time.

When he finally gets up, finally manages to scrape together two thoughts and put one foot in front of the other, he heads off towards the buildings. He's been here before. Not here, specifically, and no, he hasn't died multiple times before but he's been in bad situations. Firefights and regular fights and he knows that you have to put one foot in front of the other.

Just one foot in front of the other, Eliot. All roads lead to somewhere.

But maybe he can just keep walking on this one and hopefully he'll end up someplace safe.

B. Days 038 and 039 - Bring Me To Life - OTA

It's...well, he's not better, per se, but things are better.

At least until he realized that fire and him don't get along.

He's the kind of person that purposefully goes towards his fears, to sensitize himself to them so that he can get on with his life and not be affected by them. It worked before, actually, so...

...surely it can work now?

Eliot runs out of the Grey Gull, panting.

Dammit.

He runs back in, at the same high speed, determined and maybe growling.

He comes running back out a second later in the same way. Panting, sweaty, eyes wide.

And then he goes back in. And then out.

This happens for quite some time.

You can probably ask him what he's doing if you want.

C. Day 040 - Frozen Inside - OTA

Nope. He's not doing this again. No way.

He's at the door of the Grey Gull, waving anyone he sees inside. He ain't messin' with this town's stupid crap anymore.

"Get inside! Get the hell out of there!"

He'll take quick trips out into the fog if he must, but he's keeping the door open for limited amounts of time anytime he sees someone wander by.

D. Wildcard - Anything goes! - Plotting comment here

Requested reward: Spot Hidden
Characters involved: Malcolm Bright
Link to thread: Plotty
Additional details: Malcolm will be starting his tunnel searching on days 38 and 39 by exploring from 1307 towards the Lighthouse. He will be alone and will have a ladder with him and a kerosene lantern and a notebook/pen and his phone to take photos. What can he find between 1307 and the lighthouse by exploring the tunnels?

[I'm doing the days staggered so they'll all have their own headers for anything anyone wants to do during those days!]

The last thing that Raylan remembered was fire, agonzing pain, and Neal Caffery standing over him with a face twisted in all the horror that the cowboy felt. It was a sharp contrast to the freezing cold water that he found himself facedown on the beach in, cheek in the sand just far enough up to keep the roiling ocean from rolling right into his breathing holes. Raylan pulled back into conciousness slowly and with the realization that everything hurt. Even working his fingers into the sand, even the idea of pushing himself up felt impossible. There wasn't a single part of him that wasn't exhausted and he didn't have it in him to test it.

This had to be it, right? The last time he'd wake up, finally where ever people like him go when they die. No more struggling, no more lonliness, no more anger or pain. As soon as the thought came, it went, ferried on by the bitter pragmitism that reminded him only darkness followed true death. Final Death.

After another long few minutes, Raylan finally forced himself up to his hands and knees, pulling himself further up the beach and out of the lapping water until he could roll onto his ass. Tugging off his boots with a gritting of his teeth against the pain that came with it all, Raylan poured the sea water out of them before spotting the supplies that someone had left. Doc maybe - it was his first assumption. But with the thought of the immortal gunslinger came the onslaught of feelings he kept tucked under his hat, not just for Henry, but the whole house. It was more than enough to get Raylan up to his feet, boots in hand, and over to the supplies. All he needed was a blanket.

He let his feet go on automatic, bare soles muddy as soon as he got off the sand, but he knew the way home.

He just wasn't sure what he'd find there.

The only thing that Raylan could do was keep himself moving. It was early but sleep wasn't something he got a lot of anymore, except now it weighed on him, his shoulders, his face a little more than it had before. But the Gull, getting it running, keeping it clean was something to focus on.

He didn't expect to see Eliot running full tilt out of the Gull's doors and it kicked a flair of panic in his stomach, eyes going a little wider and wilder.

"HEY!" he called, breaking into a jog to get up to the front of the place. "What's goin' on, is everything okay in there?"

Day 37

Sleep was still elusive but this was nothing new for Will. The oppressive quiet was new, the lack of bird song as the sun began to creep into the sky, the restless shifting of the dogs needing to go out. Molly snoring like a chainsaw. The memories put a small smile on Will's face before he dragged himself off the couch and decided to start his day.

He showered and bundled up, prepared for the snow and ice outside. Tugging on his gloves as he swung open the door and walked out into ...

'I believe you may find yourself a tad overdressed, Will.' Hannibal remarked from where he was leaning against the railing, dressed in a gaudy -yet fashionable- light wool suit. No overcoat.

Closing his eyes Will muttered softly. "My name is Will Graham. It is seven thirteen in the morning, I am in Mathias Township." After he said the words, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

Yep. Still Fall.

Shaking his head Will walked back into his house to remove a few layers.

Stripped down to a heavy flannel shirt, buttoned overtop an undershirt, Will headed back out to begin his day. His first stop was the General Store, just on the off chance that something, anything had restocked. Imagine his unholy glee at finding alcohol!! Apologies to those who lost their lives in the General Store, but after only a cursory glance at the scenes, Will was heading for the booze.

Will was definitely taking his time 'shopping'. He could be found trying to decide between cheap beer and cheap wine.

"Beggers can't be choosers," he muttered at one point. "But would some cheap whiskey have been so difficult?"

Day 38 - 39

The previous day had been spent stocking up -on booze- and doing his best to avoid the blood stained water of the melting snow running down his street. Hobbs, Dolarhyde, Tier and even Michael Brown had been hooting and hollaring as they splashed through the melting blood ice, causing Will to stop and stand stock still as he struggled to put them from his mind and function.

It had become more and more of a struggle through the day and Will had spent the night reliving some of his classic night terrors.

Recognizing that he needed something manual to do, something fixed and rote that he could use to focus his mind and exhaust his body, when Day 38 dawned Will headed out into the town looking for a project. It took him most of the morning but when he came across the filth covered, yet oddly intact Greenhouse ...ureka!

Horticulture was not really Will's long suit but building maintenance was right up his alley! Add on the nascent thought that maybe this building could be used for its original purpose? Grow their own food supply? Seemed a good use of his time.

First things first. Cleaning the place up. Inside the glass building, Will quickly ended up stripping down to his undershirt as he worked. He focused on clearing the areas that appeared the most stable, fixing any faults he could address with the tools on hand, and then cleaning the glass.

He wasn't hiding his activities, the greenhouse doors stood wide open, and he could no doubt be seen wandering from the general store to the greenhouse and back.

Day 40

Will was caught outside when the fog rolled in.

For him there was little about its appearance that made him feel any more or less off than he felt any other day of his existence. If anything the fog felt like a welcoming blanket -to Will- and he continued to make his way through the thick blanket with little concern about direction or time.

It was possible he might have encountered others, who were not as comfortable in the deep fog? It was possible that he could assist them in finding shelter. Whether he did this while making the entire fogbank feel even more unsettling was ... always a good question.

[ Plotting Comment! ]

(Plotting post)

By the time Doc had trudged home from the graveyard, having drunk far too much on his own now that he has to cover Raylan's share of the moonshine, it was dark like any other dark night in Mathias. No screaming. No running. His gut instinct dulled by the alcohol that took more than the edge off, it is obligation and not fear that drives him back to a house that does not much feel like home. A promise he intended to keep, even though he is not much in the mood.

First he checks in on the girls. Ellie, and Yennefer. He is no father, and she is no little girl, but Ellie makes his stomach twist and his heart ache in a way he doesn't understand, in a way that all the other women in his life have never made him feel. Yennefer, at least, elicits much more familiar feelings in him. Of course he finds her attractive. What cold and heartless bastard would not? She burns with a familiar fire and he has always been a moth to those orange-red-white-hot and batshit crazy flames. He would happily slow dance with her barefeet across a floor covered with broken glass and barbed words if she would fight with him and tear him down to size. But he respects her too. He is worried for them both.

Malcolm, too. They haven't really talked, since... well. They haven't really talked. Doc can't even walk straight right now, so he's not going to try. He's just going to open Malcolm's door as quietly and stealthily as he can manage and make sure Malcolm's in bed. An outline of a body in bed is enough to assure him that the last man standing in 1306 is fine. He can report this back to Raylan tomorrow when he drops his ass back into that shitty plastic chair. They're both trucking along just fine without him.

And then when Doc finally gets back to his old room, the one he had ceded to Negan, and closes the door behind him, when Raylan and Neal and Negan and Malcolm aren't watching, he can fall apart. He can bang the back of his head against the door quietly, breathe deeply and close his eyes, let the tears fall freely in the dark. The stress and strain of trying to keep his shit together breaks him and leaves him a despairing, sobbing mess, sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows digging into his knees and fists in his hair, knocking his hat onto the floor.

People are dead and nobody could do anything for them. Others are missing, nowhere to be found. If whatever killed the others doesn't come after them too, they're going to die from starvation.

"I don't know what to do," he confesses to the cupboard, looking through the gaps between his fingers before his fingertips slide up to his hairline. He has run out of reassuring lies to tell to Five, to Ellie, to Malcolm, to himself. His sounding board ~~breath, hot against his ear, fist in his shirt, lips scraping against his cheek slinging from a disarmed hip~~ is lying in pieces under a pile of rocks. Blood and whatever miniscule pieces of guts from the most all-rounded talented man that this house ever saw is still strewn across the snow outside this very bedroom window. This room still smells like leather and sounds like gravelly laughter even though it doesn't house the most seasoned survivalist amongst them anymore.

"I don't know what to do." Clammy palms swipe up the sides of his head, wrists pressed to the shells of his ears as his shallow panting adds some cadence to the ambient silence. He only has ten fingers and ten toes to plug the innumerable star-studded sky of holes in the hull of this sinking ship and he's breathing like he's drowning already.

"I don't know what to do," he whispers to the pillow tiredly when he eventually lies down, curled up on his side, in pieces with no one left to collect him like they said they would have. Maybe he's too tired to stretch the day out any longer. Maybe tomorrow will come upon them without incident. Maybe tomorrow it'll all come back to him. Maybe tomorrow he will be able to come up with a fresh set of lies.

Or maybe he won't even be able to make it to tomorrow having this one night to himself.

SO UH, if someone were to explore the library tunnel now that it's open, would that require a spot hidden reward redemption or is it fair game since it's already known?

He pulled an all-nighter. Like plenty of his all-nighters, far from his first and far from his last, it was pretty unintentional. Hardison might consider it the first unproductive one in good long while, though.

It's weird. The limited clothes options, the brand X on the store shelves, the furniture having that weird old but not gross smell, spending half the night futzing around with VCR guts. Really is a throwback to the 90s, in an almost comforting way.

He has a spike of panic when he steps out of the boarding house and registers the weather. Warm weather means the snow melts, melted snow means Eliot isn't covered anymore. He'll have to get him wrapped up, moved, buried once the ground thaws down enough. He thinks he might be cried out for now, at least, settled into the tired kind of numb that makes breaking the steps down a little easier.

Won't last forever. Might last long enough. He stops to check, just in case, finds that he's still got time to steel himself and ask someone for a hand before it gets to that, at least.

The street's already a nauseating mess of reddish slush from being walked on.

It's safe to say that at this juncture, Hardison isn't expecting an Eliot Spencer, whole and functional, to be spotted coming in from the edge of town. His chest feels like an aluminum can getting crushed under a tire. It's Eliot, Eliot being around is just a matter of course. It's a miracle. It's awful. It'll turn out he did fall asleep, and this is the part where he realizes it's a dream because he knows all the way down to his DNA that Eliot's gone, and that'll wake him up before he can capitalize on getting to pretend for a minute.

"Eliot?"

Disbelieving is a good word for it. Just loud enough to get there. Hardison stays frozen where he's standing. Doesn't so much as twitch yet, one part dread and two parts wary.

If this isn't real, he doesn't think he can handle it. His 'cried out and numb' assessment wasn't made with this in mind.

Malcolm is wearing one of Raylan’s shirts. One waiting to be laundered, not a fresh one from his drawer. It smells just faintly of him. He’s lying on his side, looking at the outline of a hat on his dresser in the dark. He’s not asleep, but he doesn’t move. In the dark, there’s no way to tell.

He sees the sliver of light move across him when the door opens. He expects Doc to come in. They’ve always come. When they couldn’t, after the tunnel, Neal came. There’s nobody here now that can be there in Doc’s stead.

Not that Malcolm wants to sleep. He’s drunk enough moonshine that the room is continuously tilting. Tilting towards the hat on the dresser but never tumbling into it.

He hears the door shut, but the footsteps that follow are muffled and move away.

Right. Okay. He’s still mad at Malcolm. That’s.... okay. He’s okay. He can just...

No, he can’t. He’s not okay.

He stays still in the dark longer, arms wrapped tightly around himself, but he can feel his anxiety trying to keep him up and the moonshine trying to suck him into sleep.

He gets out of bed and pads down the hall, lingering outside the closed door that must be where Doc went. He can hear the faint sounds of a panic attack; he knows them well.

Oh.

He moves to open the door, but hesitates. Doc has always been too proud to let them see what he perceives as weakness, but even before everyone was killed, he’d been working up to this. Still, if Malcolm opens the door and Doc throws him out with scathing condemnation....

Doc needs help. He takes the chance and opens the door, saying nothing as he pulls it shut behind him and shuffles over to crawl up onto the bed, a tiny big spoon pressed up against Doc’s back, face buried in the back of Doc’s shoulder.

It doesn’t occur to him that Doc might smell Raylan on him or recognize the shirt and know what pathetic depths he’s sunk to. Right now, Doc can’t see him, just feel the warmth clinging to his back.

Somehow the shouted yell only works Eliot up further, and he jumps even as he puts the brakes on. He puts his hand to his chest, he doesn't get startled except ever since coming to Mathias it's been one giant startle.

"I--yeah! Yeah, it's fine...I'm fine, I'm great--"

He's not fine. Nor great. He gestures absently at the Gull and opens his mouth as if he's going to say something, and then closes it, and then opens it again.

Right. There's no way that he can make this look anything other than like it is.

"I'm...ah. I'm tryin' somethin' out."

He wonders if this is some kind of third afterlife. Honestly, the first thing he thinks of when he hears the familiar voice is that it's either A. a trick or B. Hardison somehow died and ended up here. Which is, in and of itself, a completely horrifying and abhorrent thought and it's enough for him to kick that thought as far as he can away.

It's Hardison and he's standing there like he's seen a ghost.

Or maybe that's it. Maybe he himself is a ghost and now he's haunting Hardison. Honestly, he wouldn't even be too mad about that, but maybe the fact that he's considering that as a viable, actual scenario means that he's going mad too. He unconsciously rubs at the strange, spider-web like scars on his hands that also are visible on his face, mostly on the left side.

This isn't happening.

This is happening?

"Hardison?"

Eliot's voice is still gravely but it cracks, just a little.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 79

037-040 » the reason for time

QUESTIONS?

REWARDS

Clarification request

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Eliot Spencer | Leverage cw: ptsd, death, disassociation, mentions of gore, violence, murder

Spot Hidden

Raylan Givens | Justified

Day 37 - Closed to anyone at the 1306 House

day 38 - the gull

Will Graham | Hannibal

NEAL CAFFREY || WHITE COLLAR

Doc Holliday | Wynonna Earp

Night 36/Day 37 @ Malcolm

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A, lets get sad on main

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