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

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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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ he secures his arm around her, pressing her into his side. the trenchcoat is brushed to the side so she can in it as well, the grey plaid scarf still hanging off his neck. john's good at hiding his emotions, but zed's powers can slip right through his defenses. as if it was the easiest thing to do. he doesn't like that--he doesn't like the fact someone can waltz inside his head and uncover anything at any time.

they haven't talked much about how he arrived. focused more on her powers, getting her settled in, trying to make a connection between her and the house. then... a bit about before. ]

I woke up on the beach a few roads down. [ he keeps his eyes forward on the fire. ] Wild waves... rain that never stopped. Cold, but, not this cold. Not unless you went too far out into the dark. Houses were all lit up like this one was.

[ she shuffles closer to him, not just leaning into him for warmth but leaning into him because of him. it was probably ridiculous and something he would probably joke about in the morning but with the uncertainty of their entire situation, she's craving something to ground her. somehow no matter the situation he always managed to do that for her. ]

What's the last thing you remember? Before you got here.

[ a sigh leaves him at that. oh, he hates thinking about what had just happened before he woke up on that bloody beach. it's something he'd like to forget--but the lack of alcohol makes that difficult. ]

Manny and I had a bit of a chinwag. His typical feathered talk. 'Oh, what we're doing is working, John.' Bollocks. If it was working, then we would of stopped that bastard from killing those poor girls before he even did.

[ she nods sadly, she understands what he means. the path he's chosen to walk - the one she had whole heartedly followed him on and would continue to do so. ]

Do you think he knows about this?

[ she means them being here and this place in general. she shifts closer to him, she does feel warmer than she had before but still chilled. as if the cold had gotten into her bones. ]

If he does? Then he hasn't made his presence known. [ he shakes his head. ] No, I think we're on our own here. Whatever is controlling this place blocks my magic, your visions. It's not much of a stretch to think it'd block the divine.

[ but, if it can? it's... extremely powerful.

he reaches over for that sleeping bag and drapes it around the both of them. a half assed attempt, but, an attempt is made regardless. that counts for something. ]

Too bad the fireplace isn't next to a bed.

I just don't understand what could have done this. Brought all of us here.

[ she is greatful for him draping the sleeping bag around them. it's something. she's never experienced cold like this before. it was if it seeped into her bones and then wouldn't let go.

she sighs and rubs her hands together before she looks at him. ]

I was thinking of sleeping here tonight.

Take your pick of upset local deity, magic spell gone wrong, or maybe we just fell into the cracks of reality. The multiverse is a big place, Zed. Even bigger than Jasper's dimensional Mill House of Dimensional Fun.

[ at least he can still put out his normal level of sarcasm.

he gestures to the fireplace then. ]

Best place to sleep as any. I'll make sure no spooky voices get in, yeah?

[ of course, john realizes that it means she is going to sleep next to him. presumably right where she at in the moment. there's some stupid part of him that is a bit thrilled by the idea. the other half, well, typical cynical john constantine.

don't think too much into it.. ]

There's another sleeping bag if you feel the need to get all cocooned.

I guess I should say we're happy at least alive. [ the idea of them being dead had never really crossed her mind. she knows they're alive and that this whatever it is, is real. but that doesn't mean she likes it or wants to accept it. ] Your magic isn't working either is it?

[ john's magic not working worries her almost more than the loss of her visions. she's come to rely on his magic as much as she relies on him. and she doesn't need to imagine to know how frustrating john must be without his magic.

she realizes what's happening or what is most likely going to happen. the idea of sleeping curled up next to john is comforting. she hasn't really been sleeping well ever since what had happened with imogen's heart. the nightmares hadn't really gone away - even if she would brush it off. she feels safe with the idea of sleeping her, like this with john. ]

I'm alright like this... if you are.

I know where I'm going when I die. It isn't here. [ though they both know that. she has probably known for ages that he is damned. maybe it showed up in those paintings and charcoal drawings of hers. ]

It works. Just not the way it should. Cheap tricks work just fine, but..m the real magic? Spells? They knock me flat for a bit. I'd wager the bigger the spell the longer I'm down for.

[ he raises one hand to rest on top of her head. none of them had been sleeping well as the fight with the rising darkness. if only he felt like this town would give them a reprive. ]

Don't see why I wouldn't be. Gorgeous bird at my side, cuddled by the fire? Almost romantic.

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

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