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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Comments

[enduresurvive]

[ Ellie can't actually make out the voices. She's...pretty sure they're in her head. But then, if they were in her head, they'd sound like someone concrete. Joel, maybe, though she's not quite far gone enough to follow a dead man's voice. Dina or Tommy seem more likely. She wouldn't be able to ignore those.

But these weird voices. They seem to be saying something, but she can't make it out. She goes anyway, though she can't explain why.

She doesn't hear Claire at first through the haze of other voices that aren't saying anything. She feels heavier, though. It's tiring to get far out from town.

But then Claire says not just the nickname, but her actual name, and she registers that as something real. There's something shaken and hollow on her face when she turns, like she doesn't quite see Claire.

But then she does. ]

Claire? Oh. Sorry, I was just...

[ Actually, she's not sure. Wow, get a grip, right? ]

[waywardsister]

[ Shit.

For a moment, Claire thinks Ellie's just gonna keep wandering, and that alone makes something creep deep into her.

She can still feel it - the way Kaia's hand went limp in hers. She can still see the way the light in her eyes just... disappeared.

Not again.

Shit.

But Ellie stops, and something clears up a little on her face, and Claire has to latch onto that. She immediately reaches out, puts a hand on Ellie's shoulder, tries to anchor her through sheer force of will. ]

Out for a casual, relaxed stroll?

[ Claire's voice is light and teasing, but her eyes are serious. They both know that's not quite what this is. ]

[enduresurvive]

[ Ellie jerks away from Claire's shoulder out of reflex, out of some deep-seated trauma reaction to people startling her. That, more than Claire's voice, pulls her out of her weird voices trance.

She's immediately ready to fight, though she's reaching for a knife or gun that simply isn't there as she turns to face...whoever or whatever is there. She has a hammer, but it's not in the place a gun or her knife would be, so probably luckily for both of them, she comes up empty-handed.

She registers that and Claire's face at the same time and total recognition takes over her features. ]

Holy fuck, Goldilocks, you scared the shit outta me.

[ She leans forward and puts her hands on her knees, steadying herself, trying not to shake. Even before this year, before Joel and Seattle and all of it, she could be a little jumpy like this. Probably the cold isn't helping, the memory of a terrible snowstorm and Joel's infected wound and those cannibal freaks. Why is everything so shitty? ]

[waywardsister]

[ Claire backs up immediately. She can take a punch, but Ellie looks like she can deal that and then some, and despite earlier jokes, Claire has no desire to put theories to a test when Ellie's fucked up on something in the air. Whispers, distant and swelling. Disorienting. Wrapping around the mind like silk sheets. ]

Yeah. Bet I did.

[ she hesitates, then steps closer again. ]

It's okay. You with me now, Ell's Bells?

[enduresurvive]

[ Claire's presence pushes the voices away, but not entirely. They're still there, whispering words Ellie can't quite make out, somewhere in the ether, or in her mind, or...whatever.

Her combativeness drains out of her poster as she changes her stance. She's not quite relaxed. She probably can't be. But she's at least not threatening anymore, either. It's not like she has any real intention to fight Claire, after all. ]

Yeah. Yeah, I...I think so. I just...it's dumb, right? I thought I heard something. Someone, maybe.

[waywardsister]

[ Claire's eyes track into the distance. She's hearing voices, too. Murmurs. And oh, she wants to follow. Wants to chase her father's pet names and her mother's lullabies, but... she doesn't. Not for herself - but because there's someone else here who's tempted. And Claire's always stronger for others. ]

Not dumb. This place is fucking with us, badly. You gonna punch me if I touch you?

[enduresurvive]

[ Ellie manages the tiniest strained smile. ]

Not this time.

[ It's a joke, but there's a grain of truth to it. She can't say she'll never come up swinging if this town keeps fucking with her head, after all. But she's not touch averse, especially with other girls. Aside from the obvious exception of Abby and the other WLF assholes, Ellie has found women to be more trustworthy, and often safer, than men. ]

[waywardsister]

[ Claire nods, smirks a little. ]

We'll have at it sooner or later I imagine. It's gonna be fun. In the meantime...

[ She reaches out, cups her hands over Ellie's ears. Mouthes: 'Better?' with a questioning look. She has no idea if this will help block the voices a little for Ellie. If nothing else, maybe it will give her something else to think about than whispers in the fog. ]

[enduresurvive]

[ Despite her words, she's still a little bit tense when Claire touches her like that, because it's not really what she's expecting. Tense isn't anything like combative, though. And she already decided she trusts Claire.

She scrunches her nose up a bit and finally laughs, reaching up and pulling one of Claire's hands away enough so she could hear. ]

I don't know. I guess so. I think...it's really fucking stupid but you just being here seems better than before you got here.

[waywardsister]

Well, that's a Hallmark moment. You know how to make a girl feel special, El's Bells.

[ Claire does give her a genuine smile though, little more bashful than her usual grins and scoffs. Claire might deflect, but really, the admission feels good, and makes her feel like she's not a total fuckup. Just most of one. ]

Seriously, don't worry. I've always got you, okay?

[enduresurvive]

Don't let it go to your head or anything. Might mess up your hair if your head swells.

[ It's not a good joke, even for Ellie, but it's been a rough day already, okay?

Her face slides back towards seriousness. ]

Yeah. You know that works both ways, right?

[ Even after all her distrust and rage, Ellie still does care about people. At least she cares about her own people, and Claire gets to be one of those here. It's a quick friendship, but Ellie's best friendships have been like that. She'd hit it off with Cat right away, even though ultimately it hadn't worked out. And she'd been friends with Dina for a couple years before they got closer. It just...worked out. A lot of who she was before Joel's death, before Seattle, got crushed out of her by trauma. But not everything, not yet. ]

[waywardsister]

I don't know, I think I could pull it off.

[ Claire gathers up her long blonde hair, turns sideways as she pushes it up into a messy coil at the back of her head. ]

What do you think? Add a braid here or there, I think it wouldn't look half bad.

[ She winks, then lets the long waves drop back down and fall around her shoulders. Her lips twitch, blue eyes dropping to the tips of Ellie's shoes, Claire's own boots cuffing the ground. ]

Oh yeah? Well, damn. Guess I got lucky here after all.

[enduresurvive]

[ Ellie laughs again at that. ]

Maybe. But I think I'd rather keep you how you are.

[ Ellie's own shoes are muddy Converse-type sneakers. She should probably get something better, considering the bullshit weather here. But she hadn't known, going up to Seattle, that it would be basically flooded. And no one had planned for this town, had they?

Ellie doesn't blush easily despite being a pale redhead – a thing she's enormously grateful for right now. ]

Yeah. Guess I did, too. I mean, if you like nosy girls with bad humour saving you from crazy voices and shit. Whatever.