004-006 » it was the possibility of darkness...

[villagemod]

WHO: Everyone.
WHERE: Eastern Mathias.
WHEN: Days 004-006
WHAT: Where has the day gone?
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. PM this account to have a warning added!
NOTES: Plotting post over here!

RECOMMENDED ♫ Graham Plowman "The King in Yellow"

DAY 004
THE DAY OF DARKNESS

For those who ventured out on the third night, the day will look eerily familiar, for this is no day. The sun does not rise in the morning as it should, and the black sky still stretches ominously above them with no stars or moon to light their way. It is impossible to tell either the hour or the passage of time, a truly disorienting experience for those used to the normal cycle of day and night.

Beyond the safety of that initial cluster of houses are three blocks more of residential spaces, along with streets branching off on either side into neighborhoods. There are no lights on in any of these homes, though there are occasional streetlights illuminating the way. The unwilling residents of Mathias are welcome to explore these home, though it is wise to take care of being out in the cold for too long. The temperature hovers near the freezing point, dipping lower the further one ventures down those side streets. At a certain point, the temperature drops sharply and those comforting streetlights blink into darkness. These same conditions befall those who try to walk beyond the Mathias Public Library.

The silence from the start of the unearthly night also continues into what should be day. No sounds travel through that bitterly cold air and while there is no physical impact on any who wander outside, the silence feels oppressive and like the rest of the world has disappeared beyond their small circle of sound and whatever light they carry with them.


A NEW ARRIVAL

A terrible time to arrive in Mathias, surrounded by darkness and freezing cold. The newest resident will find herself shivering awake beneath a streetlight outside the Public Library, with no sign of how or why she has ended up in this unfamiliar place.

Best get inside, dear. It isn't safe in the cold.

DAY 005
NIGHT CONTINUES

There is still no sign of the sun. No moon. No stars. Nothing but darkness and painful cold greets our weary fellows on the fifth day.

Indeed, it seems almost monotonous, like this stretch of hours will be exactly as the last... until it isn't. At unpredictable intervals, the power begins to fluctuate within buildings where it had previously held steady. Lights flicker, central heating stutters, and as the hours wear on, there is the notion at the back of the mind that the electricity may go out entirely. Many houses and buildings in Mathias have fireplaces — it might be a good time to start using them.

DAY 006
SILENCE BROKEN

Across Mathias, the power fails completely. Now our ill-fated friends understand why emergency kits are so easily found in residences and businesses in town. Candles, matches, crank flashlights — these are the only means to light your way if you're foolish enough to move beyond the safety and warmth of a fireplace.

The silence is no longer relegated to the outdoors now, but has seeped inside. Sounds almost seem to be absorbed by the impenetrable blackness, disappearing into its depth so completely that one might begin to believe they never existed. The feeling of utter isolation becomes almost maddening, relief only provided slightly by the company of others. And then, suddenly, within that dark nothingness—

Voices. Indiscernible whispers from within the black, one voice or a dozen, with no source to be found. Lasting a mere second or for minutes or hours on end, coming from any direction or from nowhere at all, heard by only one person or by everyone, there is no shutting them out. Following the whispers is ill-advised, as they may lead away from the safety of a group, or out into the cold and beyond the point of no return.

---

LOCATIONS

THE PUBLIC LIBRARY A large brick building with a string of round lightbulbs draped across the double door entry way, the library resides at the intersection of Phillips Drive and Jackson Boulevard. The building is older than most in this area and coated in more dust than an ill-used library might usually see. There are a number of tall windows throughout the main room that are either broken with glass and debris scattered across a wide stretch of floor or coated in grime so thick that light couldn't penetrate even if there was any. There are lanterns with candles set around the room on lower shelves or the tops of pedestals, and low lamps with green glass are perched on reading tables at one end.

The books are what one might typically find in a small town library - classics, history, dry biographies, but nothing too controversial and nothing published after 1990. But these books are all collected at the front half of the library — toward the back is a different story. Almost as if walking into a different era, the shelves suddenly filled with old leather-bound tomes that smell add a musty smell to the air. Those shelves rise up toward the high ceiling, the tops barely able to be seen with one of the lanterns should it be lit, and as one reaches the very back of the library—

Streaks of soot cover the shelves, or what remain of them, and those along the wall are a blackened mess of what is left behind when books burn. From floor to ceiling, these shelves are a mangled ruin, and there is no way to tell what these books might have contained, or why the fire did not spread further into the room.

THE RESIDENTIAL HOUSES The stretch of new houses mentioned on Night 3 may still be explored as the night continues. Phillips Drive continues on for three blocks past where Mathias's newest residents took shelter, and the cross-streets of King Lane, Stoker Park, and Jackson Boulevard are also open for one block in either direction. Venturing beyond this area is met with painful cold and debilitating exhaustion.

The houses in this section of town are both locked and unlocked, ranging from pristine (if dusty) condition to rundown and falling apart, as if some houses have aged where others have not. The "oldest" houses have been overtaken by rot, interior walls missing whole sections, holes in the floors between levels. There is running water in all the houses in this area of time, but only the best condition houses have working electricity, though the electricity will begin to fail as the night stretches on. The corded landline telephones found within the homes are still working, thankfully, and new sets of numbers (this time without names) are easily found for each block.

As utterly empty as the "newest" houses seem to be, the oldest are... less so. There's a feeling that someone could walk around the corner at any moment. It is almost the sensation of being watched, or of there being thing else there that cannot be seen. Nothing in the houses is disturbed and there are no shadows springing out, so perhaps there's really nothing there at all...

THE BOARDING HOUSE Another large brick building at the intersection of Phillips Drive and Jackson Boulevard, the boarding house occupies the opposite corner from the library and seems to be almost as old as the larger building across from it. There are three stories to the building: the first floor contains the kitchen (fully stocked), dining room, shared living room space, and a half bath; the second floor has four single bedrooms and one full bath; the third floor also has four single bedrooms and one full bath. There is a locked door on the third floor that leads to an attic. Each room is furnished with a double bed, desk, and small table and chairs, and in each room there can be found the clothing and personal effects of the former boarders. The electricity and other utilities in the boarding house function just fine until the power fluctuations begin as in the rest of town.

Room 1 — unclaimed
Room 2 — unclaimed
Room 3 — Daisy Johnson
Room 4 — Max Guevara
Room 5 — Number Five
Room 6 — Phil Coulson
Room 7 — Claire Novak
Room 8 — unclaimed

To claim a house for layout designing/exploration or a room in the boarding house, comment here. House numbers will be generated in response to comments.

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day 4 » closed

[chuju]

don't wanna say i'm scared, what's it like being broken? — closed to constantine

[ The boarding house hadn't been hard to find, just surprising. Those still existed? She might not be the history junkie that Coulson is, but she's pretty sure those went the way of the dodo by the time disco set in. Yet, there it stood, just as dusty and mysterious as all the other buildings she'd wandered into in this weird town so far.

It doesn't take her long to decide to hold up here while continuing the attempt at getting her bearings. After far too many hours in the freezing darkness the night before, she's not eager to repeat that experience, and at least here they can find safety and comfort in numbers. While it's not something she often thinks about, the only time Daisy has lived alone in the last six years was that awful stretch after Lincoln's death, which isn't something she'd like to repeat. So, after giving the place a good once-over and turning on every light she can find along the way, she chooses a room and starts the cleaning process.

Twenty minutes in, the bed is stripped and the linens stuffed into the washing machine she found beside the kitchen, the surfaces in the room are wiped down, and her clothes are just covered in dust. But at least there's some music, thanks to the small boom box on the dresser and stack of homemade mix tapes. Daisy doesn't recognize a single song but it's better than the creepy silence. ]

into the dark, trying not to lose myself when i go too far — closed to doc

[ After spending a good while in the room she'd claimed upstairs, cleaning and rifling through the previous occupant's possessions, Daisy wanders back to the first floor of the boarding house, leaving more footprints in the dust along the hardwood floors. Standing in the living room, she looks around at the mess that is the space she's chosen to stay in for who knows how long, and just sighs. Without being able to properly use her powers and still slightly too weak to fight well, she knows it's better to stay inside, especially with the temperature dropping so low, but she can't just do nothing.

So, more cleaning it is. A broom located, she fails at beating the dust off the couches and chairs (your arms are still injured, dummy) but does manage to clear most of the floor. It takes a while and she loses track of time, but then again, that's pretty easy to do when the clocks are being weird and the sun refuses to come out. ]

[thering]

He had actually come to look for her, specifically, so he has been upstairs, downstairs, checking rooms with open doors, knocking on ones that are not. Occasionally he would bump into a familiar acquaintance and stop for a while. Sometimes he got distracted lending a hand.

Eventually he does make it to her room, a duffel bag with his assorted collected wares slung over his shoulder gripped firmly in one hand and two first aid kits in the other. He did not anticipate having to use them before coming here, but it seems he has found himself in some careless, immature, amateurish accident-prone company.

Knocking on her door, he waits patiently outside her room, eyes scanning up and down the length of the hallway. It is tiring, to be always expecting danger, but until they have a better understanding of who brought them here, how they managed it, and for what purpose, Doc has a hard time letting his guard down.

[chuju]

They must have just missed each other as he made his rounds and she moved about the building. There's still a mountain of work to be done downstairs, but with her arms aching and the taste of dust clinging to her tongue, Daisy's had enough for the moment. She's perched on the edge of the bed, nursing a cup of tea and trying to find the energy to remake the bed with the freshly washed linens that are piled haphazardly by the pillows, but there's no rush. It's not like they're going anywhere yet, right?

The knock on the door makes her jump, the sound almost reverberating in the eerie silence but not even registering with her powers. It puts her on edge as she moves to the door, easing it slowly open just a bit to peer out and then all the way when she recognizes her visitor.

"Henry, hey," she greets him, her voice automatically pitched a little quieter because of the lack of noise around them. Her eyes catch on what he's holding and she squints at him in suspicion. "What's with the luggage?"

[thering]

"Oh." He follows her gaze and cracks a small smile before lowering his bag down onto the floor, still standing outside her place.

"Not to worry ma'am, I'm not inviting myself over." He doesn't make a habit of bothering all the single ladies unless whoever's lucky enough to put a ring on them also happens to be in the same room or house.

"I found these." He holds out one of the first aid kits he had retrieved to her and pops the lid open, showing her its contents. "You might need to change those." His gaze flits over to her arms before he meets her eyes again. He's not too concerned with whatever she's been doing to herself to get them that dirty, but it's definitely time for fresh bandages.

five years later...

[chuju]

His comment about not inviting himself over gets her to smile, those old-fashioned sensibilities peeking through that charming cowboy exterior again. She'd never have assumed any such thing, but it's sweet of him to stop by. There's a bit of flushed embarrassment to her cheeks as she recalls their last conversation but... she doesn't regret confiding in him. It had been exactly what she'd needed in the moment.

"They are pretty gross, huh? I was cleaning and... well." Shrugging, she steps back and gestures wide with her arm. "Come on in."

[thering]

He's not bringing up anything from their previous talk unless she starts first. They have a more pressing concern about her bandages right now to be tending to, anyway.

"Thank you." He steps in and leaves his bag of acquired goods by the door. Her place is tidier than a lot of the other rooms he's passed on the way here and he doesn't want to mess anything up.

"If there was anything you wouldn't mind my helping with, I could finish up while you washed up, change those for you," he offers.

[hellblaze]

[ At some point, John has found his way into the boarding house. He flicks off the flashlight he'd been using outside and pockets it in his trenchcoat before making his way through the building. A bit too school-ish for him, but, he could see the appeal for other people. Him? He liked his space.

That's when he hears the music.

John makes his way to the room it's coming from and easily presses himself to the doorway and looks in. Ah, one Daisy Destroyer of Worlds. He watches her move around, sliding a cigarette into his mouth. Though he makes the strong mental note not to light it just yet.

He's only got a few more. ]

You might need a fresh pair of clothes, luv. Looks like the dust bunnies tried to eat you.

like a year later...

[chuju]

[ She'll never admit it, but Daisy jumps at the sound of that familiar British voice. Constantine, the guy she'd met at the restaurant after they'd all first arrived here. How long ago was that now? Just a few days, but they feel like years. So much has happened and they've still gotten absolutely nowhere in their search for answers — and here she is, cleaning. It's beyond frustrating.

Turning slightly to give him a half-hearted glare, she puts a bandaged hand on her hips and sighs tiredly. ] At least they were the only thing.

[ Then, because the mention of clothes has her noticing his, she frowns slightly and asks: ] Have you been wearing that since we met?

[hellblaze]

The only thing we know of anyways. [ He grins at her and wags his eyebrows.

They really don't know anything here. Yet, they trust what their eyes can see. Bit odd, innit? ]

Washed them when I found a house down the way. [ John nods behind him. ] They're fine.

[chuju]

[ She does not appreciate your shenanigans, Holmes.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she eyes his clothes again, obviously passing judgment on his particular fashion choice, or rather to keep wearing the same fashion like it's a uniform. ]

You do know there are other clothes available, right? I mean, it might be a bit weird to go through other people's closets, but it's not like we can pop by the mall to pick up a pair of pajamas.

[hellblaze]

[ No one does and he'll keep doing it anyways!

There's no reason to change if it works and it's moderately clean. So judgemental, Disaster Sis. ]

Clothes that belonged to people who went poof. Bit rude, don't you think? [ He tilts his head. ] How would you feel if some bloke walked in and just started wearing your clothes?

[chuju]

Depends. How does he look in skinny jeans? [ See, she can make jokes too. ] But really, if I'd gone poof, I wouldn't care, would I?

[ Which, speaking of. After turning the music down a bit, she steps over to the closet in the room, which she hasn't actually gone through yet. Glancing back over her shoulder at him, she smirks slightly. ]

Care to join me?

[hellblaze]

Oh, I feel sorry for the bollocks on that sorry bastard you admire in skinny jeans. [ And he's good at rolling with them.

John steps into the room - a bit uninvited - and takes a look around at the job she's done so far. Nice. He supposes he should do that to the place he's settled in, but, he doesn't want to feel home-y in a place where the population has gone and disappeared in. ]

Oh, modeling? Sure. Love to see a nice woman model new looks. Just, keep the skinny jeans away from me.

[ Then he sits himself on the bed. That he feels is a bit more invited in. ]

[chuju]

[ She rolls her eyes at his first comment, not caring enough to correct him on her actual tastes in guys. Does she even have those anymore? It's been years since Lincoln and she's just about given up on finding anyone to fill that void in her life again. ]

No one said anything about modeling. Raiding closets does not equal modeling.

[hellblaze]

You're trying clothes on, aren't you, luv? Sounds like modeling to me.

[ John plasters a large grin on his face, gesturing to the closet. ]

So, let's see if there's skeletons inside it.

[chuju]

[ He's an interesting one, this John Constantine. There are aspects of him that remind her of people she's known over the years, but as a whole package, he's... definitely unique. She's still figuring out how she feels about that unique quality he has — amused exasperation seems like a pretty good contender at the moment.

Shaking her head, she opens the closet door, revealing a fairly shallow space filled with clothing on hangers, boxes on a high shelf, and a short hamper in the floor. She reaches forward to move the hanging pieces to either side, revealing the back of the space. ]

Well, no skeletons. I'm kind of disappointed.

[hellblaze]

[ Amused exasperation is just how one should handle him in general.

John doesn't expect much in the terms of fancy wear or something that looks halfway decent. Mathias seems as if it had been a fishing town at one point. Nothing black tie or formal gowns to go visit the upstate people as it were. He finally pockets the cigarette in his mouth and leans back. His head tilts as he looks at what he can see of the closet from here. ]

Unless they're hiding them in the walls.

[ He sounds deadly serious about that. ]

[chuju]

[ The glare she gives him would leave full-fledged SHIELD agents shaking in their boots. Unfortunately, she's pretty sure it won't have the same effect on Constantine — he hasn't seen her temper or what she's capable of yet. ]

You're not helping. I have to sleep in this room.

[ When she turns back to the closet, it's with a second of hesitation. She studies the back wall as if considering something, then reaches forward to tap her knuckles against it. ]

[hellblaze]

I lived in an old Mill House filled with mystical and cursed items. Not to mention hallways that led from one dimensional door to another.

I think you could handle a skeleton.

Especially one of the ding-y Halloween ones.

[ He cocks her a large grin, resting his elbows on his knees. Though he is wondering if there's anything like that left in this town. No ghosts, maybe no skeletons. That's disturbing. ]