villagelogs | 059-061 » the place where you stop the story

WHO: Everyone.
WHERE: Eastern/Central/Southern Mathias
WHEN: Day 059-061
WHAT: Time returns to "normal" and Mathias grants a reprieve.
WARNINGS: (PM this account to have a warning added!)
NOTES: Plotting post over here! The next log will be posted the weekend of ~~May 15th~~ May 22nd.

RECOMMENDED ♫ Nathan Johnson "Foul Play"

DAY 059-061
A BRIEF REPRIEVE
“There is no real ending. It’s just
the place where you stop the story.”
— Frank Herbert
Residents awake to a peaceful morning with the sun shining and earth remaining still. There is no unsettling shaking to rouse them at dawn, and time has continued moving onward as they slept. Whatever state they were in the night before, they remain that way now, for good or for bad.

On the surface, there seems to be little lasting effect on the tiny town from that strange series of days, save for the memories of any traumatic experiences residents may have faced — but there are always consequences within Mathias. The perpetrators of acts against the town are tormented by nightmares of those acts being used against them, and those who did not raise a hand to stop those acts of destruction may yet face consequences of their own. For now, however, the unwilling townspeople should do their best to rest and recover from the disturbing ordeals of late, for this reprieve from the madness shall surely be shortlived.

THE NEW ARRIVALS
The newest arrivals to Mathias will wake up on the beach near The Grey Gull. It's a bit chilly out with their wet clothes, but surely there's something to help warm them inside the restaurant. They may even find some alcohol within — and not just the cowboys' homemade moonshine.

CONDITIONS UPDATE

— THE HISTORY MUSEUM has not fared well with the return of "normal" time. The once esteemed wooden building is now a charred ruin, the recent fire leaving behind little of the contents within for study. The structure is unstable and it is not wise to venture into the ruins for long.

— THE WEATHER conditions remain fairly typical for early fall: warm days and cool nights. It feels almost like spring arriving except that there fewer red and orange leaves on the ground and more of them oddly returning to the trees and slowly fading to green. It's like watching one of those nature documentaries that have a timelapse of the seasons, only it's going in reverse.

— THE FOG has retreated from some areas!
— Residents may now wander the southern stretch of the forest surrounding Mathias Township — it is possible to leave the paths but potentially unwise to do so.
— The fog has also retreated farther into the western section of town, now stretching across town between Stine Road and Shelley Drive. This has revealed the Chasm in the earth that stretches from one side of town to the other between Stine and Hill Lane.
— Access to the northern section of the forest is still blocked beginning a few dozen yards past the treeline; this section of fog will urge residents to stay huddled within the town proper by inducing a physical reaction of panic and fear.

— DEATHS & DISAPPEARANCES continue! Max Guevara has vanished into the fog. Claire Novak's body can be spotted on Day 059 facedown at the bottom of the Chasm between Hill and Stine, near Phillips Drive; by the morning of Day 060, her body will be gone. (Attempts may be made to reach her body but will likely not end well for those involved. Such attempts should be reported under Exploration.)

— ALCOHOL is still in Mathias! Just barely. (Supply is running very low after recent town events.) 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 was also restocked with its lower-end offerings of a variety of alcohol types. (Alcohol does not replenish as food does.)

OOC NOTES

— PROJECT HELP Your mod needs help with some projects!

— FUTURE PLANNING If you haven't, please answer the questions here for future log planning. I will almost definitely need some of these answers for the log going up the weekend of May 15, so act quickly! Late submissions will not be considered for that log.

— UPDATES Don't forget to report updates as they come up! Changes to locations (like toppling a few bookshelves in the library), big plots you have coming up that will affect the game (parties, major property destruction, etc), or exciting discoveries that may tie into the game's mythology (even the things provided by the mod) are very helpful to have in one place so relevant page updates can be made.

— MOD STATUS The usual reminder that it's just Amy steering this ship, so things will are going to be pretty slow for a while. Apologies in advance, and please don't feel shy about pestering me if you're stuck waiting for something.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The coming coastal warmth - a small promise of spring - brings with it the potential for new growth which is why she ventures towards the trees at all.

Collecting willow bark and spruce seedlings hardly compared to who she was before this place had dragged her in, but it was busy work for idle hands. It stopped her from passing her boredom in more reckless ways. She's already bottled fog and divined fuck-all within its mist, the chaos of her magic limited and leashed.

Her walk had almost turned from foraging to leisurely when she catches the movement, when the chaos around her feels sharper and she is drawn forward to the small clearing.

She's never seen this man before and given the small populace, one was bound to trip over another sooner or later. Which meant he was new.

His magic - she doesn't recognize, and finds herself a bit annoyed at that fact. Shadow manipulation seems like it would be a delicate art. Not much chaos to pull from a passive shadow all on your own. It's what pulls her closer, like a slowly rolling storm, towards the figure carved black amidst the coming greenery.

She watches, having come up to his left. Watches the motion, his reaction as she leans against a tree, then scoffs. Loud enough to intrude.

"A word of caution - they've fucked with our magic." He's no sorcerer as she'd know it, but his clothing is far more familiar than the awkwardness of the ones she's found here. "Not enough to pacify," she adds, helpfully. "But enough to be a noteworthy pain in the ass."

He's vaguely aware of someone near him, slightly in the corner of his eye, a smudged blur of no importance as he concentrates. The scoff is when she gets a glance, barely a fraction of a second but enough to assess that he's not a threat. She speaks, and the Darkling holds for a fraction of a second, the thin line of inky blackness he'd summoned hovering.

Everything she's saying makes sense. He notes the 'our' in the sentence, and when he finally raises an arm and sends the Cut flying towards the lone tree, his frown deepens as it misses its' mark. It does clear off a large portion of it, swathes of branches falling to the ground after a sharp crack.

The Darkling's glad he can mask how immediately drained he feels, for the most part, and as he tries to reign in his sudden exhaustion he stands straight and still, looking at his handiwork. His lips are thin, clearly annoyed that he didn't achieve his desired result with his power, though he seems to check himself. It's not magic, he wants to correct, but he does finally turn to the other, dark eyes taking her in. Odd, how the other didn't seem to react with much other than curiousity over being in the presence of a shadow summoner, though if people are truly from different worlds, that's nothing he can fault her for.

Once his face has settled into a more neutral tone, he speaks, voice light and soft.

"Then the next step is to have what's ours fully restored," he says simply, confidently. He exhales softly. "What have they taken from you?"

His display of power would have been impressive - the shadows he wields are elegant. That shows control. He expects more - that implied power. But then this sliver of darkness is sent flying and misses that singular, lonely tree. His failure isn't satisfying, per se, but it is important to know she is not the only one leashed, chaos and strength subdued. Until it isn't.

As far as first impressions go, this one presents itself as an opportunity. The enemy of my enemy, and all that. Someone marginally competent is bound to show up sooner or later to this boring, infuriating town and she can only hope this one was amongst that number.

His face is a record of disappointment as she drifts closer with sure, measured steps. Quiet anger she knows well. Her eyes - a stark violet, sharp and bright - narrow, weighing him as much as he is her, as she stills a conversational distance away.

"A logical step, but a test of patience. The ones responsible for bringing us here are yet to show their face." The cowardice is implied. She shrugs at his second question, and squints past him to his tree trimmings. "Not taken, exactly. Set a limitation that is not my own." And that's all she'll say. Not all cards on the table.

A moment's pause, until she thinks to add: "Are you done shearing the trees?"

He has all the patience in the world, he'd like to point out, but he can pick his battles: as self-assured as the other is, he has the sneaking suspicion that it's because she's genuinely correct. Confidence goes a long way with the Darkling, and his lips quirk up into the small resemblance of a smirk at how purposely vague she's being.

He won't pry, but it's certainly noted. He's impressed for the first time since his arrival. Perhaps there's hope in this Saints forsaken place. It's enough that he ignores the shears comment--he'll let that one slide.

"How long have you dealt with this? It's suffocating."

After her own decades, she’s learned patience just as well - or so one would think. But many things serve to test it, as reactive as a summer storm.

But confidence matched for confidence, and for the first time since her arrival, she feels on more equal footing. She has no need to explain power here.

“Not as long as some - a month, give or take,” she props her hands on her hips.

“It’s mostly just fucking boring,” a sigh. “Infuriating most days, too.”

She realizes - she’s in no rush to return to town. This is a change in monotony, for as long as it holds, which is why she offers: “How much have you been told? I’ve no intention of wasting our time repeating things you’ve already heard.”

There's something, some sort of recognition he feels with the other. An instant connection, though he's still wary of most people here based on principal alone. It's difficult to fake the kind of confidence she has, the same type that the Darkling shares, and he can't help the soft smile.

Perhaps not equals, but close. It's a breath of fresh air in a suffocating place, one the Darkling is immediately thankful for.

"That we cannot leave. That the fire is recent, and the fog is dangerous. That strange events happen, dangerous events." His lips pull into a frown, next, looking at her. "Mostly words said out of fear, despite bravado."

Magic is ageless, in a way. And while she's no way of knowing that his power is perceived as science, her understanding lies within chaos. His mind is silent to her - much as anyone else's here, drowned out by the limitations set upon her, but she doesn't need to hear his thoughts to know a conduit of chaos when she sees one.

A different shape, a different time, or a different outlet, but in the end, like recognizes like. The confidence of people shaped by cruel worlds, and made to be who they are, for better or worse.

"The fire was a temper tantrum," she says, with almost a laugh, something incredulous bubbling in her chest. Look, she's not against arson, but come on. "Maybe the intention was to see if it would attract anything's attention." Like a rebellious child.

Her head tilts, a thoughtful hum, and a small relief she can't hide. Finally, someone else to call it what it is. "Fear is a very good tool for control. And the unknown frightens plenty. Things can't easily be explained here, and many lack the appropriate perspective." Somehow, she sounds to sound both judgemental and understanding.

"Walk with me," she offers, waves to the previously felled tree. "I think that was a willow you hit. Which is what I needed, anyway."

059-061 » the place where you stop the story

shadows!

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can't wait for them to start judging people together tbh