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

Entry tags:

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.

navigation | faq | locations | report updates

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He stopped, setting his hands on his hips and making a show of looking around them, a full three hundred and sixty degrees. Up in the trees, then down at the ground and finally towards her.

"A shitload of nothing," hopefully she could decipher from his expression his absolute frustration with his efforts thus far.

"Nothing is not small, but this?" Callisto squeezes two fingers together, with no room in between them. "No--"

She cuts herself off, understanding dawning. The pronunciation is slightly different, so she hadn't immediately made the connection, but.

"No thing."

So this is just aimless wandering, then? Whatever. She's not entirely opposed.

[OOC: I was waiting for the mod info to come through before replying again, BUT after the Raylan confrontation I figure they could stand to do a bit more walking and talking before jumping into investigation!]

"Nothing," he confirmed with a nod. It was absolutely aimless wandering at the moment, on the off chance hope that something, anything might provide them with more ... well just more than what they currently had.

He held his hands wide, a gesture meant to suggest he would totally understand if she did not wish to wander aimlessly with him. But he also made it as clear as he could that she was welcome.

Since she did not appear to be opposed he would walk, pausing at least once to pick up a solid looking branch; eyeing it pensively. His training was screaming at him to gather it up, and more like it, to try to make more weapons.

"You have the right of it," he said, automatically gesturing towards her and making a thumbs up sign for right. "We need a field kni ... err anything with a good blade." On the last he repeated the gesture she had used when they first met and she was asking for a sword.

She pulls out the butter knife she's been using and shows it to him, though her expression is skeptical; it's not much of a blade. She points to his branch, and mimes carving, then wiggles the knife and shakes her head. It's not sharp or sturdy enough, by her estimation; it'd probably do a poor job, and then it'd break.

"Agreed." He said with a nod for effect. The butterknife was not going to be a practical tool to work the stick down into any viable weapon. Tim tossed it aside and brushed his hands off on his pants as he started to walk again.

"You an Raylan didn't death each other," he observed as a way to distract himself from the whole lot of nothing around them.

"No," she admits, holding the butterknife in her hands rather than tucking it away again, idly rubbing her thumb over the blade. They reach another fork in the path, and she points to the left this time, then pauses to mark a tree.

"You are allókotos," she says, as she works. "This is--" She shoots a look of exaggerated confusion. "This. What is it?"

What is the word for strange, for unusual, for confusing?

Regretfully on this occasion Tim can't put together the clues enough to provide the answer. In fact he looks back at her with his own expression of confusion and tilts his head to the side.

"That?" He points at the butterknife in her hand, thinking she means the utensil. "That is a butterknife."

"No," she says, with a sigh. "You. What are you."

Did you hear that sound? Like air moving at high speed? It was the whoosh of the question, still going over his head.

"I'm a Deputy U.S. Marshal?"

"You are," she agrees wearily. "Allókotos Deputy U.S. Marshal."

He has a smattering of languages, Spanish, Farsi and the Latin used in law manuals but nothing that gives him any clue about what 'Allókotos' might mean. So he decides to take it as a good thing, since there is no reason for him to think otherwise and he gives her a toothy grin.

"Thank you."

Probably just made things even more 'strange' or 'confusing' didn't he?

"No," she says as she raises an eyebrow, vaguely amused. It hadn't been a compliment, Tim; don't thank her!

Now it was his turn to look confused, though he obviously did not have any real understanding of why she was saying 'no'. Tim thinks about it for a moment before he lifts his hands and signs.

Three simple signs; a motion towards himself, then his hands towards each other as if to clap but missing, and finally a point towards his head. A small shrug for emphasis.

Am I misunderstanding?

"It doesn't matter," she says in Greek, with a dismissive wave of her hand. But then she tries again, turning to look at him sidelong as they walk.

"You are wrong. Small wrong. Things you say is--" Different, unexpected. "Things you say is things I don't understand."

"I'm wrong a lot of the time. Hazard of being an idiot." Tim agreed without much thought but her second comment caught him off guard just enough to cause him to stop and turn towards her. His brows pinched as he replayed their conversation over in his head.

"Do you mean I'm weird?" How the hell do you mime weird? He lifted a finger up to his temple and twirled it.

Edited 2021-05-29 21:53 (UTC)

"Yes"," she says, snapping her fingers. That's the word she wants.

... Or so she assumes. The gesture fits, anyway.

"Yes, weird. Small wrong, but big weird."

"That's just because of the way I part my hair," Tim said in response, his hands moving to sign out the idea of parting his hair and his blue eyes twinkling a little with wry humor.

Because he sure as hell couldn't tell her she was wrong. He was a big weird, sometimes even to his own damn self.

Ugh. She wrinkles her nose in response to that, though it's a mild bratty reaction rather than one of genuine annoyance.

"And I'm the way I am because of my hair color," she says in Greek - tugging on a lock of it, then waving a hand to indicate her whole self. "Watch out for blonde girls, Tim. This?" She tugs her hair again. "Dangerous."

That last bit is relayed in English.

"Well yes," Tim said as if that was a fact of which he was well aware. "The female of the species," he gestured towards her "is always more dangerous than the male." He gestured back to himself.

"Usually smarter too." He gestured to his head but this time lifted his hands upwards to indicate higher brain function. "I wake up in a sweat thinking of you an Rachel teaming up."

"Tell that to Raylan, who doesn't think women are worthy of fighting him," she says, before attempting to translate the sentiment.

"Say this... on... Raylan?"

Tim had been there for the end of that conversation, so she assumes he'll be able to extrapolate the rest.

He was able to extrapolate a good idea and he sighed.

"It's not ..." he began before stepping in front of her and putting his hands on his hips and sorted out the best way to try to explain. He considered trying to walk her through the cultural aspects of why they struggled with violence towards women, but dismissed it as being too long. To many chances to get away from the point, better to keep to the core of it.

"Raylan's father," he made the motion of various family members. "beat, dangerous to his mother." He smacked his fist into his hand over and over. "She was not like you," pointing towards Callisto. "She could not defend herself, which is why he beat on her. Because it made him feel strong."

He probably looked an idiot with the charades, but he was doing his best.

"Raylan hates his father," with good reason if Tim's expression is anything to go by. "He works hard not to be like Arlo."

Tim exhaled and looked off through the trees with a hundred yard stare before he looked back to her and boiled it down.

"It's not about you," he signed. "It's about a man you will never meet."

"Arlo is the father?" She asks, just to make sure she's following this correctly - but she doesn't wait for an answer before barreling on.

"This is weird." Though if her expression is anything to go by, the word she wants is something more like stupid. "I am dangerous. I--" She copies Tim's sign for beating. "I do this, at him. No problem."

In other words, the situation is totally different, as far as she's concerned - and if he refuses to fight all women because his mother was defenseless, she considers that tantamount to saying that all women are defenseless.

"Yes," Tim answered the question about Arlo.

He then grit his teeth and looked upwards. He was just about over people not listening to him. When he looked back at her, his blue eyes were dark and held an edge in them that was rarely seen.

"It.Is.NOT.About.You." Tim said through his teeth, making the motions very deliberate.

"You want a fight? I am right here," he spread his arms in a 'bring it' motion. "If it's not a fight you want then I am going to assume you just want to manipulate him to prove that you can."

The anger surprises her as well as intrigues her, and both emotions are clear on her face.

"Why?" she asks. "Why fight you and not he?"

"That is what I am asking you," Tim counters.

"Why do you want to fight him? If you want to fight, I'm right here. But you want to fight him. Why?"

no subject

no subject

Thumbs up!

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