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.

navigation | faq | setting | mod contact

Comments

[hellblaze]

Not as many by his own hands as one might have thought. Most were through round about means or collateral damage. Every single one of them weighed on him though. It would be a lot to answer at Judgement Day, and hopefully he'd have enough good deeds under his belt to save his soul.

"Doubt we'd be dead." John shook his head with a frown. Then his eyes moved upwards. "I know where I'm headed when I die."

And it wasn't Heaven.

[tinstar]

"Most of us, made it to adulthood, are going to hell if there is one," Raylan assured casually as he pushed on. "Figure we all mess up enough as it is, bound to hit that tripwire. Those that say they ain't or won't are probably lyin' to themselves."

If that helped at all, his ignorant, innocent view.

[hellblaze]

"There's a difference between thinking you're going to Hell and knowing it, mate." His tone was low, a bit quiet, keeping the light up so Raylan could see where he was going. Oh, John still had that swagger in his step, but he certainly had a different tone now. "Almighty tends to be a bit more forgiving of certain things, they say."

Except for what he did. For once? It isn't something he disagrees with. He is guilty of it. That doesn't mean he won't stop from trying to change his destination. He'll find a way to save Astra's soul and therefore his own.

[tinstar]

Hazel eyes turned onto John's barely lit profile as he processed that. Rational surety was a rare thing in life and while John had suggested some wild things, Raylan didn't think he was lying. Didn't make it true to his experience, but he wasn't going to discount the stories of mostly, seemingly sane men.

"We'll drop the majority of this off at you place, huh? Make sure you and Zed are covered. I can come back, nick another barrow full and haul it back to my place."

Yes, he was bad at talking about sensitive subjects.

[hellblaze]

Oh, damnation and Newcastle were certainly sensitive subjects. He danced around Newcastle for weeks before Zed finally got the details out of people. He still didn't appreciate it, but, what was done was done. Zed didn't seem to press it against him. Though, how much of that was her near blind faith in him... that was something else.

"I think you'll like Zed. Most people do."

[tinstar]

"Never much had to worry about whether or not I liked others." Never much cared about if others liked him and while that hadn't changed, he was curious about the kinda woman that would draw John's protective side. The man was too rough around the edges for that to be a common practice, Raylan thought.

"She gonna take havin' another set of eyes keepin' out for her alright?"

[hellblaze]

"That's probably a good thing, mate. Not much comes from bothering if people like you or not - or if you'll like them."

Until you were bollocks deep in damnation and needed a fucking mate to help keep you sane. Not that John was about to drop the tale of damnation and human error. Though, maybe, he would bring up Ravenscar at some point. Part of John enjoyed seeing the expression on Raylan's face when he learned a whole new layer of how utter shit his life was.

"She'll see it more as her keeping an eye on you. Not really one for attachments, that one."

[tinstar]

"Most people tend to not like me because I'm doin' my job. Somehow, I don't think I'll be doin' much of that here." He was used to not being liked; that wasn't a problem. Always nice to know that someone approved of his approach to it though.

The idea of her keeping an eye on him made him chuckle.

"She might find that a bit harder than she'd like and tirin' to say the least. Better saved for people with too much time on their hands and a penchant for sad stories. Ain't a lot of happy stories, things I get into." He glanced sidelong at John's barely visible silhouette. "Though it sounds like maybe with someone like you, it's something she's used to."

[hellblaze]

"Depends if people get uppity. Suppose that means we should find a police station for you! Maybe get you a pair of rusted handcuffs."

Though how serious he was about that is up for debate.

He chuckled lowly at that. "Oh, Zed's got her own sad story. It just happened to cross paths with mine for a reason I haven't quite figured out yet. She might tell you it's fate. I'm not so convinced."

Wanna wrap this one up?

[tinstar]

"Zip ties and a trunk works just as well," he quipped, completely serious. "But I will be wantin' to locate their local jail." To put in that point of order.

"Ain't we all. Don't get me in on fate, I feel the same way about it as I do most of religion. Ain't the water to float my boat and so long as no one is pushin' it, we'll be fine. But you're alright, I suppose." Raylan flashed him a sidelong grin. "Now. Where do you want this wood?"

yep yep, I'll do it with this one!

[hellblaze]

"Bloody zip ties." John mumbled under his breath. "Just ah, don't leave me bleeding out if you use the zip ties. I prefer safe words."

He gestured to the blue house up ahead. "Might as well take it up the back of the house and set it next to the fireplace. No point in making it further then it needs to be. Just ah, try to keep up."

John took a few strides ahead of Raylan then, making sure to keep the flashlight pointed so the other man could still see where they were going.