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

"You understand?" Callisto breaks in, still looking back and forth between Raylan and Tim. Then, to Malcolm, she adds in Greek:

"You told them everything I said, and you didn't lie? I was serious before, you know; if I find out you lied about any of it, I'll burn this entire house down with all your friends still inside."

You know, exactly like what was done to her. She has more than a bit of a preoccupation with it.

Malcolm looks over at Tim. "Exactly. And she's holding on to that security blanket."

He turns to Raylan, whom he's still standing closest to. "She knows what she is and she became it on purpose. She sees destroying Xena by becoming her as her... mission in life. I'm pretty sure she has no idea at all what she's going to do when that mission is complete."

He turns to Callisto when she addresses him again. "Why lie? It's good for them to know how you're dangerous," he tells her plainly. "I am your friend, but I would never fail my... these friends by making them think they can believe you are safe for them. I know you will kill me if you want to."

"You are not my friend," she says stubbornly, because really, Malcolm, how many times does she have to tell you.

"What are they saying now? Did you tell Raylan I was imprisoned before, and that I broke out? Tell him I say that all prisons can crumble if you hit them hard enough."

This is important, apparently; it's related to a conversation they'd had earlier.

“YOU are not MY friend,” he reminds her. She can rely on him. Trust him, even, if she wants. He knows it’s not mutual. “They are telling each other what they learn by your stories when they tried to speak before here.

He looks at Raylan. “She says if I lie to you about what she says...” he holds his hands up, “and please don’t go off; it’s not an idle threat but I won’t make her go through with it. She says she’ll burn my house down with my friends inside. Which I think is her standard punishment for betrayal. Anyway, she wants me to convey to you, specifically, that she has broken out of prison before and any prison can crumble if you hit it hard enough.”

There had been more than a few times at home where Tim had quietly placed himself in a position to physically intervene between danger and Raylan. Sometimes it had been to protect Raylan, other times it had been to protect Raylan from himself.

As Malcolm spoke Tim was already internally wincing. There was so much bad in that threat for so many reasons. Tim moved silently up closer to the older marshal's shoulder, both as support, safety net, and if he had to physical restrain someone from someone. His blue eyes fell on Callisto's face and there was no anger or judgement in his expression; just a quiet sort of resignation.

Tim at his shoulder made Raylan feel better about the situation, especially with the swell of instinctual defense against the very real threat. Raylan didn't think Callisto knew the meaning of the word bluff, even if it had a Greek counterpart, and threats like that weren't meant to be left unanswered.

His eyes hadn't left Callisto since picking up the sandwich, a similar look to the one he'd given her in the days before, the guarded battle patience that waited for her to strike. "Somehow, I think the reinforced steel we use outside'a the bronze age begs to differ."

His jaw worked tightly for a half second as he chewed over a deliberate, translatable answer. "Tell her there aren't any prisons here. She murders one of the people livin' in either of these houses, shit's gonna get real dark. We dug several graves today. I'm happy to give one to her if she asks for it. We do not need this bullshit. Mathis is enough of an enemy." Something in his eyes got darker, a tenseness across his face that would be hard to specifically pin down.

"She'll learn. Mathis'll teach her, like it teaches all of us." Neither him, nor Tim, nor anyone had to do anything for that lesson to be metered out.

Edited 2021-05-21 15:23 (UTC)

Callisto may not be able to understand Raylan's words, but she knows that look, and it prompts a bright, vicious smile from her.

"Oh, I like him," she says in Greek, as much to herself as to Malcolm. "Did he say he'd be willing to kill me if he needed to? He said that before, too. Let's keep him around."

“Yes. We keep him around,” Malcolm tells her firmly. “He’s a protector. Of everyone trapped here. You, too, if you need. He says you will see what this place does. This place will teach you. But if you harm anyone in these houses,” he explains, gesturing, “he will teach you himself.”

Malcolm looks at Raylan. “She likes you. She believes you will kill her if you have to and she respects that.”

Edited 2021-05-21 22:05 (UTC)

"I don't need it," she snaps - because, well, of course she does. "I don't need or want to be protected by him, or you, or anyone else. You're all--"

She doesn't know how to finish that sentence; they're all so many things, most of which are incredibly confusing.

Reaching out a hand to set on Raylan's shoulder Tim stepped forward until he was sure he had Callisto's eyes. His hands danced in a short, graceful burst of words.

'I care,' yes he was a fool, 'don't get dead.'

Just that and then he turned glancing at the other two men. "Starting to feel uneven out here," there was no edge in his voice, just calm fact. Having three people telling you a thing was enough to put anyone into a defensive position. "I'm going to head on in, try not to set fire to anything out here."

Edited (better werds) 2021-05-21 22:53 (UTC)

When she doesn’t finish the sentence, Malcolm raises his eyebrows.

“Helpful? Handsome?” he supplies as options.

He glances at Tim, frowning faintly at the sign language, but out of intrigue rather than annoyance.

He looks at Raylan. “She’s not accustomed to kindness and she doesn’t know what to do with it, but it does fly in the face of her worldview, so she doesn’t trust it and, even if it’s true, she’s not sure she wants it.”

Callisto's grin earned only a deeper narrowing of his eyes. He didn't trust such enthusiasm over death, especially her own but the fury that followed as Malcolm relayed his words evaporated that enthusiasm. He didn't know what, exactly, set that off, but it pleased him for some reason.

He'd ask later, put it on his to do list.

Tim's hand drew his head and attention that way, stepping aside briefly with a guiding hand that didn't touch Tim as he moved forward before Raylan settled back into the place, eyes carefully kept on Callisto as he hoped and trusted that Tim's repertoire with her continued to hold up.

Nodding at Tim's too correct opinion, Raylan took a half step back and off the edge of the tension he knew he was, in part, driving. "I don't think anyone's gonna punch anyone tonight. We might be safe for another 8 or so hours."

He'd let Tim pass before he looks over at Malcolm. "This is not kindness. Not even my willin'ness to shealter her in the shit-" That wasn't ever in question; Malcolm was right. "It's survivalism. She's got a base value of her knowledge. Of what she can do. She follows the murder rules which is to murder none of any of us kidnapped here, by the way, she can continue to exist as peacefully as she does here."

Raylan was not her friend, even if he was starting to get to understand the woman a little better.

As the men talk, Callisto's eyes flick from one to the other - from Malcolm to Raylan, from Raylan to the window (as she checks to see if she can see Tim in there, once he's retreated back inside), from the window back to Malcolm, and so on. It doesn't escape her notice that when Malcolm relays her message to the other two, he says quite a bit more than she had, and she wonders why that is: is he just talking about her, or is he putting words in her mouth?

"For the record, I'm not sure he could kill me," she says, essentially relegating herself to just playing commentary now. "Or maybe he could, but he'd have to try very, very hard. I'm pretty good."

“He doesn’t want to. That’s what is most luck for you.”

He looks at Raylan. “She’s questioning whether or not you could kill her if you wanted. She says she’s very good.”

Raylan's brow furrowed a little, but it wasn't the same, hard pinch as before. The comment had reminded him of something else that Callisto had done - He hadn't been able to ask her then but with Malcolm here, they could maybe have a conversation.

"More than one way to skin a cat. Ask her if she's human, will you? She thought about trying to jump the chasm the other day - that's a 14 foot jump at least. We don't tend to jump that far. Also if I sit down, she's not gonna get offended and kick my ass, is she?"

Regardless of the answer to that, he was stepping back over to his chair so he could bend and pull up his bottle of moonshine.

Malcolm looks at Callisto.

“He wants to know if you are only human or part god?” he asks her. Seems the most relevant way to ask the question. “And he is going to sit down but it is no rude.“

"He thinks I'm a demigod?" she says, genuinely surprised by the question. "No, my father was as mortal as you. It's too bad, really; being a god would have helped him when he was burning to death."

She curls her fingers around the porch railing, hard enough that her nails scratch the paint. Glancing at Malcolm, she adds in English:

"You. You want be--" She mimes a drunken stumble, sagging against the railing like someone who can't stand upright, and figures that that plus pointing at the bottle of moonshine will get her point across. "Why? Sad?"

Edited 2021-05-22 17:50 (UTC)

“She’s human,” Malcolm supplies before catching her mime act calling out Raylan’s drinking. He raises his eyebrows faintly.

Raylan hummed shortly and the relay. He already had a second question locked and loaded but her gesturing, the question in it got an amused lift and curl of his expressive eyebrows.

"I don't do all that," he said, face slacking as he wavered back and forth in his chair before righting his features and shaking his head before tapping his temple. "Quiets things in here for a little while."

He looked over at Malcolm. "Do you think she's suicidal then? Tryin' to make a jump like that bein' just.. human."

The meaning of the head-tapping gesture is clear - so clear that she zeros in on it, and barely even notices the follow-up question (that she can't understand, anyway).

"Yes, it makes your head go all fuzzy, doesn't it," she says in Greek, tapping her own temple. Her tone shifts to something quieter, almost thoughtful. "I thought about it once, when I was much younger, and still trying to figure out what I was going to do about... well, everything. I even stole a bottle of wine. But then I thought - what happens when the drunkenness is over, and everything comes crashing down on me again?" She pauses, just briefly. "I decided that I'd rather have the pain with me all the time, than forget about it for a little while and experience the agony of having to remember it all over again. It's unbearable enough to begin with. That sounded even worse."

Turning her back to both men, she faces the street. Her voice turns harder again when she says to Malcolm, "Tell him I said all that if you want, or don't bother. I don't care either way."

“I will tell him. But he has a question. He wants to know if you tried to die jumping across the hole in the ground,” he says, then looks at Raylan. “She says she doesn’t drink because having her pain all the time feels better than forgetting it at night and having to remember it all over again in the morning.”

She gives a dismissive pffff in response to that.

"He's really too fixated on that," she says. "I don't actually want to go back to Tartarus, you know. It was a real drag."

She's just usually willing to randomly risk her life for no real reason. That's completely fine.

Malcolm looks at Raylan. “More of a general death wish than actual suicidal ideation,” he reports.

"Oh joy," he replied with an uneven, unimpressed curl of his eyebrows.

"And if she can escape the weight of her shit while she's drinkin', God bless." His brain did not work like that. It kept things quiet, it didn't wipe them out. More often then not, Raylan was able to just set them down for a little while and breathe. Reconsider the things he wouldn't moving around in the light of day.

"Either way, she's welcome to it if she wants. Judgement or not."

"He's not happy about that," Callisto observes, though she's not sure which bit Raylan's expression was in response to. "We're going to have to find a way across someday. He wants to make a bridge, I think."

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

no subject

no subject

no subject