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villagelogs2021-06-05 08:19 pm
villagemod) wrote in villagelogs2021-06-05 08:19 pm
Entry tags:
063-064 » no matter how much / part ii (group B)
WHO: Group B members only.
WHERE: Mathias Township proper
WHEN: Days 063-064
WHAT: Matthias becomes a little larger and a little smaller at the same time.
WARNINGS: (PM this account to have a warning added!)
NOTES: Plotting post over here!
RECOMMENDED ♫ DEADLY AVENGER "Raiju"
CONDITIONS UPDATE
OOC NOTES
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WHERE: Mathias Township proper
WHEN: Days 063-064
WHAT: Matthias becomes a little larger and a little smaller at the same time.
WARNINGS: (PM this account to have a warning added!)
NOTES: Plotting post over here!
RECOMMENDED ♫ DEADLY AVENGER "Raiju"
DAY 063-064
NO MATTER HOW MUCH“No matter how much suffering you went through,
you never wanted to let go of those memories.”
— Haruki Murakami
At first, in the calm following the storm, nothing seems amiss. When the residents awake, it is to another glorious morning dawning in the unsettling paradise that is Mathias Township. Indeed, it does seem rather glorious that morning, for there is sunshine in a blue sky that has been cleared of any remnant of the angry storm clouds from the day before. But before long, residents will start to notice signs of something being not quite right.
It should be a familiar sensation to most by now.
It begins as just a feeling, a strange hint of something in the air, a nagging voice at the back of the mind. They can't quite put their finger on it but there is something. Something wrong, something that shouldn't be — which is quite a statement in a town where everything shouldn't be. But then the pieces will begin to come together.
A person has gone who ought to be there. This in itself is not a strange occurrence, for many have vanished and then returned, or not. This time, though, it is one person, and then two and three... A dozen people or more have gone, with no trace of their whereabouts to be found.
No resident is alone, thankfully. There are others who also remain: friends, acquaintances, strangers. Others who are just as trapped in this nightmarish place.
As the hours stretch on and residents begin to venture beyond their self-claimed shelters and move about the town, they will find that their fellow captives are not the only things that have vanished. The Chasm is gone as well, the crack in the earth that once stretched across and cut off the western part of town. There is not even the smallest mark to show where it had once been; it has gone so completely that some might wonder if they had merely imagined it.THE NEW ARRIVALS
The newest arrivals to Mathias will wake up on the lawn of Town Hall, at the center of the little town square. There are shops all around them, with houses just beyond, and at first glance, everything seems almost picturesque. Except for the silence that is at times so complete as to be maddening... Welcome to Mathias.
ABOUT THE NEW LOCATIONS
POPPY COTTAGE This bed and breakfast has a sense of casual elegance with the elusive quality of being both sophisticated and comfortable at the same time. Aside from being covered in dust and grime, of course.
PENHEW HOUSE Perhaps familiar to some in Mathias, this grand house is different from any of the others the residents have entered. It looks... new. Fresh. Clean. The usual thick layers of dust and grime that would be caked onto every visible surface are nowhere in sight; this absence may be a relief for some and unsettling to others. There are certainly other unsettling things to be found in this location.
THE OLD CHURCH Barely more than ruins, the property is marked by a crumbled stone outline that has no roof and only partial walls, nothing left inside besides a broken cobblestone floor.
BANEBERRY HALL From the outside, Baneberry Hall seems like your average rich person's house, but one would be mistaken to assume anything of the sort. Even the baneberries that cover the back lawn leading to the forest treeline are deceptive, for they appear harmless but are fatal to any human foolish enough to eat them.
The building is decaying from within. The rooms have begun to rot, from the parlors and libraries still done up in grand and expensive style to the bedrooms that have locks on the doors and bars on the windows. There are restraints in some of those bedrooms, while others are bereft of sharp objects. In the hall closets, there are identical sets of white pajamas of all sizes, and the offices have locked cabinets (that may be picked) full of a rainbow of sedatives (that will not replenish). The names on doors and in logbook lists are all smudged beyond legibility, and all paperwork has been water-damaged and weathered, leaving no indication of who may have been kept in those bedrooms or why. But within each room, there is an item that may be familiar to one of the residents now wandering its halls. As caked in dust and grime as anything else, each item is placed as if it belongs there, as if it might have been there for years. But it couldn't have been... could it?ABOUT THE ITEMS FROM HOME
Within the unsettling walls of Baneberry Hall, residents may find OBJECTS that are uncomfortably familiar to them. Each item has one singular memory attached to it that, when touched in any way, will be experienced first hand, as if the person receiving it had lived it themselves. This person will endure all of the associated emotions and psychological reactions to the memory that the memory's owner experienced.— Items may only be found within Baneberry Hall. These items from home are not all in one room or a specific location but instead are scattered throughout the bedrooms. (Only the items on this list are available to this group.)
— Ownership and possession of the item are important elements to this event. While the item is in possession of someone who is not its owner, it will continue to infect all who touch it with the memory that belonged to its owner. The item will also, before long, begin to make the possessor ill, both physically and emotionally uncomfortable and upset. This only occurs until the item is reunited with its owner, or until it is no longer in someone else's possession. (For example, if Person A finds Person B's teddy bear and carries it with them, they will continue to experience the bear's associated memory until they no longer have it in their possession, whether this means they have left it somewhere or it has been returned to Person B.)
— Recipients of memories will retain those memories even after the event has ended.
— When the owner of an item finds their item or has it returned to them, they will also experience the memory once themselves, having it returned to them as if they had just lived those moments again. The memory is only replayed once in their minds and then the memory effect of the object is gone. After this point, the item can be held by the owner or any others without consequence.
— If a person removes an item from its room in Baneberry Hall but does not remove the item from the property entirely, the item will be mysteriously returned to its original location when no one is looking. This is so that people do not have to keep close track of where items are going in the possible changing of hands, so the original owners can still easily locate the item without having to plan in great detail. Once an item is removed from the property, it will not return to its original location even if it is discarded by the possessor before reaching its original owner. Instances such as this should be planned among all involved parties, including the owner of the item.
— Once an item is removed from the property, please comment below so that information may be updated. Items that are not removed by the end of the event may reappear at a later time, so accurate records are essential.
— Before an item's memory is viewed by someone other than the owner, permission must be granted or requested for that memory to be viewed by another character. Because the experience is an uncomfortable one for the other characters, the viewing of memories not their own should ideally be kept to a small number.
— 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 new boundaries.— 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 from the western section of town entirely.
— 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.
— DISAPPEARANCES AND DEATHS continue! Yennefer, Number Five, and Tony Stark have vanished and Ellie is still missing, though this may be difficult to tell with half the town also seemingly having vanished. Will Graham's body may be found within the ruins of the Old Church; he appears to have been frightened to death. (If someone decides to take care of the body, please report it below. For in-game reasons, this does not need to be coordinated across groups.)
— ALCOHOL supplies have run dry, save for any dregs that have been squirreled away by individual residents. Moonshine can still be acquired by those in desperate need.
— NEW MAP Thanks so much to Scy for yet another amazing new map of Mathias!
— 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. IC events are also helpful to know about in advance so they can be included in the log write-ups.
— MOD STATUS For those who don't know, I run a summer program that is set to start in just 2 weeks. We've only recently been given the green light to go ahead in person, so it's a scramble to get everything pulled together in time. My non-RP life is going to be busy and chaotic for the next while and I am thus asking for your forgiveness and understanding as things continue to be slow, as I cannot guarantee timely mod responses beyond weekends, and even that is not guaranteed.
— NEXT LOG Because of the aforementioned real-life chaos, the next log will be more relaxed and free form with everyone coming back together again and having a few chill days. It would be very much appreciated if some of the more intense investigations could be saved to take place in future logs, as the new locations that are opening up in this log will remain open in the next few at least and there will be plenty of time to explore all their mysteries.
— ITEMS FROM HOME The items from home remaining in Baneberry Hall will not be available past this log, at least not in this form, so if you would like to play with these elements, you should not sleep on this opportunity. More things may show up in the future but, for now, this is the main event.
— DW NOTIFS Back at the beginning of the year, the issue of missing email notifs was discussed in a code push plurk by Mark of the DW admin team. For those who missed it, the gist is that the issue with missing notifs is not going to be fixed anytime soon. The issue is so sporadic that the dev team has concluded the only way to possibly fix it is to redo the notification system entirely. This issue does not extend to DW's internal inbox, so short of checking every thread you're involved in, the DW inbox is the best way to make sure you're not missing things.
— ACTIVITY CHECK Beginning with June's AC (posted at the start of July), all tags that consist of only dialogue will count as 0.5 comments, not just those that occur in an inbox thread. This applies to both AC and AP totals.
no subject
He heads into the hallway, half expecting some sort of creature. The shadows he can't manipulate from the Penhew house, perhaps--though when he rounds the corner he finds something different. A familiar sight, short black hair and a pale, round face.
"Athena."
He's traded most of his clothes for black slacks and a black button-down, though the battered kefta is still a part of his wardrobe. It's fully open, rippling slightly behind him as the Darkling's pace quickens. Athena's upset. For what reason, he doesn't know, but it's only a few more steps forward before he catches the tears. His eyes narrow, the barest hint of the room dimming the only evidence the Darkling moves towards her, but the shadowplay stops when he sees the coins.
Ravkan currency, scattered about as Athena tries to pick them up in the hallway, desperate in a way that the Darkling can't place. Something from home.
Something's not right.
"Athena," he tries again, and places a hand on her shoulder. His voice is as calm and as measured as ever, even if his gaze is the softest it's been.
no subject
"Kirigan," she says quietly. Seeing him standing there gives her a sense of vertigo, caught as she is in the double vision of reliving his memory again. How many times is that, four? Five? Does it matter?
She wraps her arms around him in a tight hug, pressing her face against his chest. "I'm sorry," she says. "I'm sorry about Luda, I'm sorry I saw it, I didn't mean to, it's these... fucking coins, I just keep."
Keep seeing it. Over and over again.
no subject
It's untowards. It's impolite. It hasn't happened in a very, very long time--not like this, though Zoya Nazyalensky has certainly curled up in his arms from time to time. This is something else, and after only a moment of hesitation, he puts a hand lightly on her, holding her stiffly. His grip tightens when she mentions Luda. His eyes narrow, too, and he glances down at what she'd been trying to pick up.
Ravkan coins. The exact type he used to throw in the fountain. What he'd told Alina about, what he'd claimed he'd use to make a wish. Athena seems genuinely disturbed, and then there's another matter: the Darkling pulls back, gripping Athena's shoulders gently, squeezing them not as a demand, but in reassurance. He makes sure to get eye contact with the other.
"Breathe." The calmness is there, though there's certainly a sense of urgency. It's a command in every sense of the word, and the softness an afterthought. "You saw Luda? What did you see, exactly?"
no subject
But Lenore's not the one hanging on to her shoulders. Lenore's not the one asking her for what amounts to a report.
Breathe.
"They were hunting you. Um. I don't know who they were, but one of them was named Chiruk. They called you Darkling, they wanted you to come back to work for some king. Luda was hidden, healing you like um... you asked her if she remembered Ryevost."
Athena presses the fingertips of both hands to either side of the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. "They kept shooting you with arrows, and she kept healing you. But then they caught her, and..."
She looks back up at him, furious tears filling her eyes again. "They murdered her. And then you killed them."
Athena blinks. It hadn't registered, somehow, until she said it out loud. Even after living through that memory multiple times, it hadn't registered that Kirigan had killed all of those men. Even seeing their insides spilling out, she'd been so caught in the rage, in the triumph, in the bitter vindication. Ten lives, in retribution for one.
If he or any of his men slaughter one more of my--
They deserved it. Everything in him in that moment believed it. She can't help agreeing right now.
no subject
He understands this, though. He understands the what the other is saying all too well, and his gaze narrows. She knows too much. There's that instinct, the one that prioritizes his own survival before anyone else's, the one that urges him to get her under his thumb before any trouble arises. Whispers about weaknesses grow louder.
There's another part of him that hears Luda's name and remembers what he'd been like before The Fold, hundreds of years ago. Before Merzost. When he had been not happy, but instead content, not caring about his mother's warnings that those he attaches himself to are mortal. That they will die.
It's this village. She'd been picking up the coins. They're from his home. He looks down at them, taking one last look at Athena's face, a hand moving up to touch her cheek briefly. It's feather-light--a gentle touch from someone who's long since forgotten, and he carefully moves his hand to grab a coin, deft fingers curling around one.
no subject
Too late. Athena tenses, reminding herself that she was trying to bring him the coins before she had to give herself a break. It's his life, his memory, he deserves to be able to deal with it as he sees fit. Hide the coins, destroy them. It's his choice. She bites her lip and tightens her hands into fists, rubbing them anxiously against her thighs as she waits for his turn with the memory to pass.
no subject
The Darkling has lived for so long but he still remembers her face. He still remembers how she looked bleeding out on the forest floor, how he had picked up her fading self and brought her somewhere safe. How the only thing on his mind had been 'help her' and 'hurt them.' How Luda didn't make it because there were no Healers around. His mother had reminded him of the truth when Luda passed, the catalyst for a forbidden plan.
They die because they always do.
And now he's relived it. At some point he'd pressed his back against a wall, leaning heavily as he pants, unfocused, rage and grief surging through him. The Darkling's eyes are glassy as he grunts, dropping the coin he'd been holding onto with a white knuckled grip. He's shaking, truly rattled.
It takes him a few seconds. One hand had been splayed behind him, pressing against the cool surface of the dirty wall, so he starts with that. He wills himself to stand up straight, forces his breathing through his nose, narrows his eyes as he wills himself to calm down. He stitches himself together with relative ease, no more than a few seconds from start to finish, and when he exhales, his jaw is just a little too tight, eyes still glassy. There's a glint in his gaze, too: remnants of what he's seen are still lingering, despite how quickly he'd forced it out of his appearance.
He despises this place. He despises his lack of power, his lack of control. He despises that someone has seen a part of his life he has told no one, felt a part of him that had started everything. It's what shaped him to be the Grisha he is this day, creating the Fold. Leading an army once more.
Eventually, he speaks.
"Who else has seen this?" There's a chill to his voice, cold, calculating, though it's got a gravelly tone to it. He's spent too much on emotions. The Darkling has been around for a very, very long time. That memory has been in his mind for just as long.
Why, then, did it feel so real, like he was there?
no subject
Athena has never liked phrases like I'm sorry for your loss. Yeah, it's what people say when they don't know what else to say, but it's just-- It's not a person's place to be sorry in a situation like that. Feel sad, feel angry, feel whatever, but I'm sorry for your loss...
Whoever lost whatever they lost shouldn't have to thank someone for caring. They shouldn't feel obligated to tell that person it's okay. Yeah, she apologized on impulse, but that had been mostly for the invasion of his privacy in the first place. So she waits, still rubbing her fists against her thighs, worry on her face as she watches him.
Athena bites her lip for a moment, then asks, "Who were those people? You don't--I mean, it's none of my fucking business, really."
no subject
He exhales, and, as the other speaks, offers a hand to help her up. Afterwards, as he speaks, he'll spare quick glance around and he'll tear off a piece of curtain from the hallway's window.
"The King's army." He moves to kneel down, carefully gathering the few coins with the fabric, careful not to touch them, just in case. He has half a mind to bury them. "Once the war was won, Grisha power was no longer something to help them. We were viewed as was something to be feared without a common enemy."
It was his fault, his mother had said from her bed, features as sharp as her gaze as he told her Luda was dead. They didn't fear Grisha until he proved they were a threat. He purposely avoids Athena's gaze as he concentrates on cleaning the small mess up.
"It was a very long time ago, Athena." There's assurance in his voice, and though he hesitates in telling her more, he eventually relents. "Centuries ago. Things are different now."
no subject
“Is it really?” There’s an edge in the words that she does doesn’t mean to be there. But the memory is still so fresh, so raw, so painful. And it’s different now is such a loaded phrase. Not better. Just different. “Different how? They have someone to throw you at again?”
no subject
She's treading dangerously, though, but he keeps himself in check. This is emotion getting the best of her. She's young, she's mortal. He's spent a lifetime reigning in intense emotions.
"I took what you're feeling now, and I used it. I made Grisha both feared and respected." Perhaps it's too much information, but the Darkling is taking a gamble. His past has already been put on display, why not shape it? Mold it?
"I lead the Second Army, made entirely of us. Grisha are protected once they're discovered, every child in Ravka tested and sent to my palace. Protected by their own, protected by me. Trained, educated. Indispensable."
no subject
Deep breath. She opens her eyes again, looking up at him. "Then communication got easier, keeping track of people got easier, and either we had to organize our shit or someone was going to do it for us. So the Gifted did this... 'declaration of existence,' after a big war in our world kind of forced us into the open. And it wasn't good. For a long time. Not centuries, but... Anyway it's better now than it was, but people still..."
She glares at his feet. "My parents threw me out. It wasn't just because of the Gift, but that didn't help. My aunt, she's Gifted too, she's part of this government group that investigates hate crimes and shit against us. People targeting us just because we are what we are. When I first went to live with her, she was hunting this... serial killer, a murderer who kept going after Gifted women."
She's not ready to go down that particular memory lane any further, not so soon after telling Malcolm, but it's out there now. "People hate us. They just... hate us. And maybe it's not so bad where I am, but other places in the world?"
Athena finally looks back up at him. "It's not so bad where I am, but only because a ton of us died to make it better. I don't know as much as I should. I mean I guess part of me just doesn't want to know. But it's always like that. It's always like that, for us, for gay people, for minorities, like. I guess I just. Hoped it wasn't like that in other universes, too."
no subject
He doesn't tell her he's the one that started his own version of the war she described, how he thinks Baghra was right, coughing into her handkerchief, eyes boring into his.
Instead, he listens. It's a glimpse into a world that's vastly different from his own, with the simple commonality. The Darkling's voice is back to the strange calmness, eyeing her calmly. So much power, and her world is still full of strife, full of things that have never mattered in his world in the least.
"Otkazat'sya are predictable," he says after a few moments. "They will always distrust what they don't understand. But we take care of our own. You were trying to bring those coins to me."
He's quiet only for another moment, but his lips part, allowing himself to lose the edge to his voice. His posture remains straight but he moves his hands to a far more neutral position. Athena has seen one of the worst days of his life. He can stand to be slightly more casual.
Slightly.
"I'm afraid I have a favour to ask of you. One I don't ask lightly."
no subject
It's more comforting than it should be to hear that. To know that she and Jeff aren't flying solo in this place, not really. Sure, Kirigan's powers are different, his whole world is different, but the baseline similarities are there. That's the important part.
"What is it?"
Even as willing as she is to help him right now, there's still the barest wariness in her tone.
no subject
Everyone needs inclusion just as much as everyone craves a purpose. The Darkling's eyes glitter as he speaks, though his gaze averts Athena's.
"Luda was someone very dear to me. I've no right to ask you of anything, but these coins, that memory... I can only ask that you keep it to yourself." He has a reputation. There's more to it, too--it's a weakness. A spot that, even after all these years, even as the memory is from years ago, before the Fold, a time when he still dared to hope far more than he does now, is sore. The less people know, the better.
"Please refrain from telling anyone."
no subject
"Of course I won't. I mean, yeah, I'm not going to tell anyone. I promise. It's..." She bites her lip for a moment. "I shouldn't have even seen it. It's not mine. Even if... it feels like it was. It's not mine. I don't get to tell anyone else about it."