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

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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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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 call the mod's attention to a thread to give feedback on the spooky happenings therein.

Use this space when exploring new locations or revisiting older ones, including residential housing locations. This includes asking questions about these explorations as well as simply reporting that the explorations are taking place.

(AP rewards are not needed for basic explorations, only if you want to find something that might not otherwise be discovered.)

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:

To submit for History Revealed, use this form:

Requested reward: History Revealed
Character: Character who will be dreaming.
Additional details: Any plot or lore elements your character is especially interested in or intrigued by.

Requested reward: History Revealed Character: Additional details:

[ Plotting ]

Is there a way to reach Claire without dying? I'm fine with injury but I'm super particular about death and don't want to do that this way. But Ellie wouldn't be able to just leave her there.

There is not, as Claire's body is not meant to be retrievable.

OKAY then I will enlist someone to stop this suicide mission o7

Tim is absolutely going to take advantage of being able to explore more towards the south. Any particular lookie looks to look at?

He would start by thoroughly exploring what is available in terms of the paths, but then straying off the paths is going to be his next step.

Now, you know that Raylan is going to be investigating the gap and trying to cross with with Ellie, using the bridge they built (it was handwaved due to players time) to do so. Is there anything you'd like me to do around that? Can they successfully get over it? If so, I will do whatever is necessary to find out what they will find on the other side, feelings or otherwise.

There is no way to successfully cross the gap, no matter what method is used. Attempts may be made but all will ultimately fail and have consequences, including potentially death.

If you'd like to proceed, let me know details of the attempt being made and the range of consequences you and the other involved parties would be comfortable with!

[ Narrative ]

He remembers well the last time he fell like this, the slow-motion effect turning each second into ten and amplifying the pain of every hit that his limbs take on the jutting rocks that had helped him get up the cliff, to begin with. But it isn’t until he hears the sickening crunch of his spin snapping across the sharpened edge of a giant formation that his body instantly goes into survival mode and pulls him into a state of unconsciousness.

Over the next several hours, he wakes periodically but quickly becomes overwhelmed by the intense white-hot pain radiating throughout his back and legs before going under again. The next time he wakes, Bucky semi-coherently remembers the day would eventually reset and it's a small relief knowing that the pain would soon be over. So, he bides his time, working through the shock and pain before it all becomes too much again.

But the day does not reset and there is no earthquake to mark that it has.

When Bucky wakes again, the sun is shining and he can hear voices, warped and distorted. He can’t hear who it is or what exactly they are saying and without being able to move or holler loud enough to even be heard, there’s nothing that gives away his location.

However, to a keen eye, several yards off the large formation of rocks where he’s laying, one will be able to notice a familiar, albeit damaged black and gold cybernetic arm. And as the voices get closer, Bucky musters up every bit of strength he has and lifts his right arm up, hoping it will be enough to draw the attention of whoever is nearby.

Waking up without an earthquake alarm clock had been an immense relief — which had quickly been dashed when Daisy realized that meant Bucky wasn't there. He'd gone to the boarding house the day before and hadn't been there when she'd gone to sleep, but she's become so attuned to his presence that she sometimes doesn't wake up if he moves around; it's a big departure from her usual light sleeper state that has her waking at even the quietest sounds. Which means that he hadn't come back last night.

She tries to remain calm, rationalizing that Bucky's probably fine, but when her call go his room at the boarding house goes unanswered, she starts to panic. After what happened with Neal just a few days before, she just can't shake the worry that something might have happened to him. And if the day didn't reset... Maybe he'll find her ridiculous for going out to look for him. Maybe he'll find it endearing. Either way, she has to know he's okay.

Having Neal at her side makes it easier, especially when all the usual locations turn up empty.

Realized I should probably ask this in the right place!

Tim (and various others) is planning to do a full investigation of the newly available southern areas. He would start on the paths, but could be tempted to poke around off the paths.

Is there anything beyond "it's a forest" to be found in the southern woods? Would there be any paths that would have something that might stand out as a "this deserves more investigation" for jumping off the paths?

Plotting Comment but absolutely NOT NECESSARY to have plotted first. Just hit me up!

[plotting post]

A - THE CHASM; AFTERNOON; OTA

[The big crack in the earth is the newest, biggest thing that Callisto has found in days, and so naturally, she beelines to it - ready to investigate something that, in comparison to the rest of the town, feels almost normal and familiar. At first she just walks it from reachable end to reachable end, peering both across it and down into it, dropping stones at various points to try to get a rough idea of depth by counting how many seconds it takes for them to hit bottom. Occasionally, she'll even rest beside it, sitting on the ground and carelessly dangling her legs into its yawning maw.

Those are all fairly standard activities. Less standard, however, is what she does next. She figures there's a decent chance that this is Underworld-related, if not caused by Hades himself, an idea that makes her more angry than anything else. Maybe it's supposed to be some sort of sign or message, or maybe it's not meant for her at all - but either way, irritating the gods has been one of the few enjoyable pastimes she'd had in Tartarus, and she's not about to stop the habit now. And so she starts calling down into the chasm as she stalks its southern border, starting out with taunts but quickly building to frustrated yells and shrieks. She is, of course, speaking in Ancient Greek, but the tone of her voice needs no translation.

"Talk to me!" she shouts, staring furiously down into the chasm. "Hades! You think you can foil every plan I had to get back to the mortal realm and then send me here without a word? You think you can claim me as your own, tell me you'll never let me leave, and then cast me out? You think I've given you trouble--"

She leans over the chasm, far enough that she looks like she might be risking falling in.

"-- but you haven't even seen trouble from me!"]

It really should have been the lack of the routine morning earthquake that alerted Tim to the fact that something was different today. Maybe the lack of shit falling on him, the sound of crashing from shit falling around the house? These were, after all, fairly significant events that did not happen this particular morning.

Morning for Tim Gutterson came like clockwork between five thirty, six o'clock. A holdover from his days in Ranger training. No matter how bad his hangover from the night before, his body refused to sleep past this time, about the best he could manage was to lay quietly in bed and stare at the ceiling for an additional thirty minutes before prying himself out from under the sheets.

The first light of dawn was settling around the edges of the windows in his room when he kicked back the blankets and got up. Dressing in the lounge pants he'd appropriated from one of the closets he pulled on an undershirt and then pulled a flannel long sleeve on overtop, ignoring the buttons for the time being. Buttons could come after coffee.

Later, as he stood at the counter waiting for the coffee pot to brew Tim felt a niggling sense of something he was forgetting. It wouldn't completely solidify until the moment he reached up into the cabinet for a coffee mug and ...

...

Athena, the night before. Something, something going to be muggy outside, something something ... mugs outside on the lawn.

He'd walked right into the pun she'd laid out for him and made grumpy noises about having to pick up all the goddamn mugs, to which she had pointed out they would reset anyway. Tim opened the next cabinet over, then the next and then every cabinet in the kitchen until he confirmed that there was not a single mug back in the house.

Frowning he headed out of 1308 in his bare feet, trotting down the steps and right in the middle of a lawn full of mugs.

On the one hand now it sank in about the lack of earthquake, etc. On the other, he needed coffee to fully consider the first part of that thought. Picking his way through the mug field, Tim found the mug he liked best and disappeared back inside with it in his hand. Once he had coffee in the mug he walked back outside, and sat on the steps with his mug of coffee, his thoughts, and his lawn full of mugs.

Because he was not picking that shit up. A certain young lady had put em down, he was going to make sure she cleaned them up!

Athena didn't register the lack of earthquake, either.

What she registered was the fact that she woke up in a bed.

She threw herself out from under the covers with a victorious yell, charging down the stairs in oversized pajamas to find coffee sitting ready in the kitchen. What would, without a doubt, be the best cup of coffee she had had in a week.

She opened one of the cupboards--and grinned.

A few minutes later, Athena practically skipped onto the front porch, bearing a bowl of coffee that has way more in it than she reasonably needs to consume. She plopped down next to Tim, just barely keeping her coffee bowl from sloshing, spirits lighter than she would have thought possible.

With the air of someone who could not be more pleased with themselves if they tried, she said, "I can't decide if it's lucky or not that the mugginess hasn't broken."

Edited 2021-05-10 20:59 (UTC)

He'd heard the yelling and the dulcet tones of little feet careening down the stairs, sounding like they were in combat boots. He took a long sip of his coffee and went back to balancing his elbows on his knees; waiting.

In short order the perpetrator of the crime against tasteful humor alighted onto the steps beside him with her ... bowl of coffee. Tim briefly considered Athena hyped up on that much caffeine and his eyebrows scrunched then bounced in an expression of acceptance that there was fuck all he could do about it.

Then ... she punned again.

"Gettin' some mileage out of this, aren't you?"

Edited 2021-05-10 21:17 (UTC)

[ooc: Party Post style; feel free to come in at any time during the meeting and talk to anyone or to the group. If you're looking to get some sanity back, this is a good place to get some!]

Malcolm and Klaus had decided regular meetings would be a good idea, but how would anyone keep track of when they were to show up? How would they? Ultimately, they found a brightly coloured bed sheet they thought was appropriately themed and stuck a note on the bulletin board.

Then Malcolm made coffee and put it in thermoses they scavenged from garages and kitchens while Klaus grabbed some packaged cookies from the General Store. Finally they made their way to the school house, hung the sheet out the window, arranged the seats in the classroom into a more welcoming semi-circle and sat side by side, shoulder to shoulder on the teacher's desk, facing the empty room. Malcolm swung his legs absently.

"I'm sure someone will come," he said.

Edited 2021-05-10 21:39 (UTC)

i. arrival;
[ He wakes up with a gasp and a stutter, his whole body jolting awake--something close to fear ripples through him, and he sits upright, damp and wet, barely registering the sand below him as his hand shoots up to pat at himself.

He's in one piece. He had not been before.

The initial panic ebbs from The Darkling, draining easily as he takes in his surroundings. He's cognizant of his hand touching wet sand, aware of the fact that he's on a beach. He'd been in the Fold moments before, darkness surrounding him and the tracker boy, the little shit crowing in what The Darkling is sure he thought was poetic justice. A hand moves up to touch his face, running fingers along his cheek, assessing himself. No scars. A look at his hand confirms no sign of blood, and he grunts as he stands up, the weight of his wet clothes and many layers almost setting him off balance. The Darkling straightens, eyes scanning the horizon until he finds the nearest building.

He makes his way into the grey gull, clothes soaked, hair damp. Despite this, the Darkling carries himself with an air of confidence, like waking up in this area is precisely what he's meant to do and everything is according to plan. The setting is unfamiliar, the environment a strange mish mash of things he can recognize and things he can't. It's quaint. It's quiet, too, and there doesn't seem to be anyone here.

It's the fireplace that catches his eye first, though the bar is a close contender. He sets about creating a fire and moving a chair by it to drape his long black coat over it to try. It's tattered and torn, but important to him--and right now, drying it out seems like a good plan. So does helping himself to a glass what appears to be some sort of homemade alcohol.

He has a lot of planning to do. A lot of questions to find answers for. But first, the Darkling drinks, using a second chair to sit by the fire to warm himself up. He doesn't flinch when he takes a sip of what's very obviously moonshine, but his eyes narrow, jaw clenching as it slides burns his throat. It's as if he's always been there, perhaps even a part of the restaurant itself, and when the door opens he'll cast a wary glance at it, his free hand casually placed by his knee, though the fingers on it splay, tensed. Just in case he has to act quickly. ]

ii. chasm;
[ The Darkling is a man who likes information, and the fact that he knows nearly nothing about this place he finds himself in doesn't sit well with him in the least. There's only so much a few villagers can tell you, and eventually, you just have to see things for yourself.

The Grisha is very well aware of the fact that he has to walk on foot is just a symptom of the bigger problem: he has no power here. His own talents are intact but dimmed, and it's much harder to use his abilities, yes, but it's a different kind of power: but he's lacking what he had in Ravka. An army. Troops. Control.

A fucking horse.

He gets the lay of the land easily enough, for however long he can walk, dark eyes surveying places and any people he may see along the way. He heads west on a whim, deciding to tackle that direction for a day, black kefta on his person still ragged and cut. Old habits die hard, and there's nothing wrong with wearing a bulletproof jacket, no matter how tattered it has been from claws and knives.

He stops when he reaches a large part of land that's seemingly cut out of the ground. A chasm, it seems, although the Darkling cants his head to the side, a feeling of familiarity washing over him. A Fold.

He stands there, staring at it, lost in thought: an unmoving man, imposing and elegant, gazing into the abyss with an unreadable expression, face stoic and back straight. He'll stare for a very, very long while, and if you're not the first to break the silence, he'll finally speak just as you're about to leave. ]

Who did this? [ His voice is soft and calm, his demeanour framing the question as a gentle question instead of the command it really is. ]

iii. shadows;
[ The Darkling doesn't feel ill per se, but he's acutely aware there's something wrong with him. The first day he had chalked it up to recovery and gaining his bearings, but by the second day he's well aware something is wrong. He's lived long enough to know that, he knows himself in every sense of the word. He is Grisha, he is a shadow summoner, and there is something very wrong with how is body is behaving. The Darkling decides to experiment.

He chooses a field by some trees as far away from the fog as he can muster. As much as he's aware of the benefits of putting on a show he opts for something else, choosing to avoid a crowd. It's a new place. Perhaps there are people who dislike those that can control what they do not. Perhaps fear runs in the villagers' veins. While that's never bothered him before, The Darkling also knows he has to tread lightly, given the situation.

He stands roughly in the middle of the small meadow-like field, inhaling softly as he raises a hand, staring at a fixed point--he opts for a tree a little out of line with the rest. The moment he begins to raise his hand the treeline's shadows begin to bend and stretch as if moving towards him, reacting to the power he controls as he gathers them. He exhales, feeling relief and a pleasant hum move through him, inky black wisps and tendrils of shadow sliding from his own shadow to move around him, shimmering like smoke. The Darkling feels alive.

He brings his other hand up, placing both of them in front of him, fingers moving, the shadows gathering into a thin vertical line, and there's a flicker of something across his face. He's concentrating, brow furrowed, but there's a small, small smile that almost tugs across his lips as he continues to concentrate. ]

iv. wildcard;
[ The Darkling will be spending most of these days exploring--feel free to run into him at the library, the town hall, or the clinic, mostly poking about and gathering information and trying to make sense of this place. If you have an idea and you'd like to hit me up, don't hesitate to add me at

whitespire! ]

Edited 2021-05-10 21:32 (UTC)

With everything as set up as it could get, Klaus perches with Malcolm on the desk, shoes toed off under the desk, knees drawn halfway up to his chest. Some part of him still worries this is all useless, that he still won’t find the thing he’s meant to contribute in this place.

He surveys the room and shrugs a little. “Maybe.” He folds his legs lotus style under him and fidgets with his hands in his lap. “Might just be us,” he laughs a little, that nervous, hollow one that’s stripped of its mirth.

"And you're tired of talking to me?" Malcolm jokes, giving him a sidelong glance.

Once they'd moved him to the house in Stoker Park, Bucky spent until later in the evening in and out of consciousness. When he was awake, he was doing his best to get through the pain, focusing on the two people because they had such an amazing grounding effect on him that the pain seems almost tolerable. Until he shifts the wrong way and suddenly hot pain surges from back to front and spreads into his limbs.

He can only guess that the healing that came with HYDRA's super-soldier serum was doing what it was meant to do. But far more slowly than it would had he been in his and Daisy's world. Mathias, however, was taking some sick satisfaction in watching him suffer. As it did with plenty of others.

Bucky slowly opens his eyes and fixes them on the fan above, blinking a few times until he remembers where he is.

Finding Bucky on the beach had been a nightmare come to life. Neal had put her through the emotional wringer plenty of times by now but she'd never seen it happening, only the aftermath. It's so much worse when she can see the pain he's in and she can't do a damn thing to help him. She hasn't felt this helpless since—

When Neal mentioned the thing Malcolm was putting together, she'd urged him to go. They didn't both need to sit here worrying when there's nothing they can do. Better for him to have a little break and come back steadier for it. Bucky needs them both to not fall apart right now.

For a while, she'd tried reading a book. When that had failed, she'd put on a movie, some ridiculous spy feature from the 1970s that she kept at a low volume. After 20 minutes, she couldn't tell you what the plot of the thing was, because she kept looking away to check on Bucky. That's how she sees that he's awake seconds after he'd opened his eyes. She leans in closer, having already been settled beside him, and makes sure she's in his field of vision before she reaches up to gently brush her fingers through his hair.

"Hey, you." There's no disguising the worry in her expression, but at least her affection for him is there too.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

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059-061 » the place where you stop the story

QUESTIONS?

EXPLORATION

REWARDS

bucky barnes | mcu

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day 59; closed to daisy and neal

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Tim Gutterson | Justified

Callisto | Xena: Warrior Princess

Day 059

Day 59 - OTA

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GROUP THERAPY - DAY 59 - OTA

The Darkling | Shadow and Bone (netflix)

Threadjacks welcome

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day 59; evening - locked to Daisy

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