villagelogs | 065-071 » assign to oblivion / part iii

065-071 » assign to oblivion / part iii

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: Mathias Township proper
WHEN: Days 065-071
WHAT: The residents of Mathias reunite under unnerving conditions.
WARNINGS: (PM this account to have a warning added!)
NOTES: Plotting post over here!

RECOMMENDED ♫ Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross "Outside"

DAY 065-071
ASSIGN TO OBLIVION
“No matter how much time passes, no matter what takes
place in the interim, there are some things we can never
assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away.”
— Haruki Murakami

Only two days have passed since the town was fractured, leaving residents cut off from those they'd come to know and even care for. A mere two days of wandering the new streets, uncovering more secrets that continue to make little sense of this strange place. Two days with sunrises, sunsets, and nights that seem like any other.

And yet.

When residents wake on this third day, they will find that much has changed. All around them, wherever they may be, there are signs that time has passed without them. Dust covers everything, indoors and out, even areas that were spotlessly clean seemingly hours ago. The residents themselves are covered as well, dust clinging to their hair, skin, and clothing—

Clothing that they may not have been wearing when they went to sleep. Each resident, regardless of the state they were in previously, is now clad in a pair of white pajamas, with long pants and button-up shirts. Those who thoroughly explored Baneberry Hall will easily recognize these articles as identical to those well-stocked in the decaying great house. On top of this, the clothes they wore from home have disappeared, along with anything else they may have brought with them when they arrived or items from home that have been found within the borders of Mathias.

There is no sign that anyone has entered their place of shelter, nor is there any sign of what may have been done with these items or how they came to be wearing these clothes. The dust all around them is undisturbed, almost as if they had been sleeping there for quite some time, though it seems impossible for such a thing to have occurred naturally.

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. They, too, are bereft of any items from home and clothed in the identical white pajamas. 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.

SUMMERTIME
— When summer arrives, so too does an outdoor stand in front of the General Store. Sporting a handpainted sign proclaiming Whateley Farm, the stand is overflowing with a variety of produce: berries, plums, carrots, cabbage, cucumbers, green beans, leeks, onions, peppers, potatoes, zucchini, tomatoes, and garlic bulbs. These do not replace the produce offerings normally found inside the market, but they do behave strangely. The stand replenishes sporadically, sometimes every other day or every five days. There is no discernible pattern to when it replenishes, nor is there any sign of how it came to be there at all.

— With the now-complete reverse change of season, much of the autumn debris has cleared from around town. Only a few stray leaves and fallen branches remain, their crisp colors at odds with the warm summer days. The forest has also cleared of much of the fall detritus, making it easier to both follow the paths and potentially spy things that might be out of the ordinary.

CONDITIONS UPDATE
— THE WEATHER Summer has arrived in Mathias, bringing with it warm days that average 70°F and comfortably cool nights. The skies are clear throughout the week save for Day 68 when a light rain falls from a grey sky throughout the day.

— THE FOG has maintained its 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! Max Guevara and Liz Brundy have disappeared, and now that everyone is back together, residents will notice that Yennefer, Number Five, and Tony Stark have also vanished.

— 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.

OOC NOTES
— 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 My non-RP life is busy and chaotic and I continue to ask for your forgiveness and understanding as game things continue to be slower, as I cannot promise timely mod responses beyond weekends and even that is not wholly guaranteed.

— ITEMS FROM HOME All items from home that characters would normally possess have vanished for this log and will return in the next. This includes clothing and possessions they had when they arrived in Mathias, items that were found in the rain, and items that were found in Baneberry Hall and removed from the property. Items from home that were left behind by other characters no longer in the game have also vanished. (All other items and clothing still remain, it is only items from characters' homes that have disappeared.)

— BANEBERRY ITEMS The items from home that were not removed from Baneberry Hall in the last log have vanished from the property. These items will not reappear in the next log. (Please be sure to comment in the appropriate spot on those logs about the state of your character's item for inventory purposes, ie whether they were removed from the property or left behind.)

— 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 points, not just those that occur in an inbox thread — this applies to both AC and AP totals. This adjustment is an extension of what has been in place since the start of the game: that all dialogue-only inbox tags counted for a half-point. Since such tags have occurred regularly in log threads as well, the half-point status is simply being extended to all tags regardless of location in order to be fairer in point distribution. (Examples will be provided in the AC post to assist with proper counting.)

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Malcolm met the kiss but he still looked uncertain at the ‘no worries’. Uncertain whether it was wise to leave Raylan there alone to process… everything that happened.

“You could sleep in the bath in 1308,” he suggested in a last ditch effort to get Raylan to come into arm’s reach.

“Stealing things doesn’t make you happy?” Malcolm clarifies. Maybe Neal has insight that he needs. “You feel bad about it? You wish you didn’t?”

Tim wanted to draw comfort from Raylan's words but there was something about them. He's trying to convince himself, the sniper realized, feeling his throat tighten.

He quickly put that impish, teeth filled grin on his face and nodded.

"Yeah, okay. Just make sure you keep the grilled cheese coming, hmm?"

"I liked Nancy Drew better," Raylan admitted with a little lean in before snagging and extra plum and turning around, jerking his head gently in the directions of Phillips Drive.

Jeff's conviction would be challenged just as soon as he saw the wrong side of Raylan.. Or learned how many people he's put into the ground. Even if Raylan wasn't thinking about it in the moment, it's how things tended to go. A cool comfort that his jacket file wasn't going to be found here.

"But honestly, if you're lookin' to busy yourself, we've found some shit in the walls, secret compartments in closets, doors into tunnels. Some houses turn up nothin' but if you know where to look..." Raylan looked over. "Do you.. know where to look?"

No offense but Jeff seemed like the kind of guy who knew how to hide drugs. Maybe that was just Raylan's biases showing.

It's frustrating, being so clueless. That brief moment of silence is spent in his own thoughts about just how much none of them know.

The question draws his attention again and his eyebrows raise curiously. "Go ahead."

"What sorts of unpleasant things?" He's taken the rest to heart of course, but the Darkling is right in his assumption that Dorian may want to explore anyway. He may or may not be weighing the gamble of potentially running into some nasty thing in the night. Though... he may at least try to gather up one or two others to be safe. It's not as if he's unused to fighting monsters, but if his magic isn't working properly...

"I do have gifts as you say. I'm a Mage, I have command of the elements and some defensive or healing capabilities. I'll certainly have to take time and test them out somewhere safely away from the town." He considers the other with some curiosity, he's not the warmest fellow, is he? It's a little unsettling. Not unusual though. He's met worse.

"And what about you? Do you have any gifts?"

"I'm not sure of what this world holds, other than a vague idea of various dangers, but where I'm from we Mages tend to attract things like Demons because of our power and connection to the Fade where they reside. Demons and spirits usually are unable to cross into our world on their own, and many of them would prefer to do so with a physical form. So in order to do that they prey on the weaker minds and various fears or desires and such to break you and take over. Possession. It can happen to someone without magical abilities but for obvious reasons they prefer us. Dead or alive." He sighs.

"So I've discovered." Very dryly annoyed at the fact he can't use his magic so well here, thanks.

"Oh, this?" He holds up his notes. "I woke up in front of that large building in the center of town, the Town Hall I believe? Inside was a bulletin board with a lot of what seemed like useful or important things. There were papers there and writing implements so I took a few notes for myself without taking anything off the board. Just in case."

Edited 2021-07-13 02:10 (UTC)

"I suppose that's something then." He smiles softly at that, he's not always the most positive one in the group but he tries on occasion to lighten the mood. At least when they are discussing some deeper, heavier, and somewhat private things.

To the question his brows raise and his hand is back to his chin again in thought. "I would suppose this answer would be easier if I had more to compare it to...hmm..."

He motions to the building they're in and the general reality around them outside of it. "Very much different compared to this one. This place seems perhaps... more advanced? I suppose? The buildings at least seem very different. We still use candles for light, though I'd think some more advanced mages could power things with magic."

"I'm not sure what kind of monsters are out there or the dangers therein, but we have plenty where I'm from. Dragons, fade-touched animals driven mad, blight monstrosities, twisted things that were once human. Red Lyrium can do that to a person too, more like a disease though, and it gets in you and grows out of flesh." He pauses for more thought.

"We have mages, templar, warriors, rogues, elves, humans, dwarves, and horned peoples called Qunari." He scratches his head.

"I honestly could go on and on about any number of things. We could be here for hours comparing notes." He chuckles softly.

"What about you? Is your world different from this one?"

"That is a beautiful name." He smiles, still charming despite how she circles him and the tension still in his shoulders.

"You want me to..." He quirks a brow then sighs. In his mind he's thinking what am I? here for entertainment? but he supposes that's the whole reason he's out here anyway. To practice. And if anyone knows him, they know he likes to show off a bit. He'd feel more confident or comfortable with the idea if he knew his powers would work right.

"Alright." He takes a step away from her and motions to the side. "Stand back a bit more, give me 10 feet."

He waits to make sure she does as he asks, motioning for her to go a little further and when he's satisfied she won't get stuck if this goes badly he'll start casting.

"This would be a lot more impressive if I had my staff." He mutters, it's loud enough for her to hear it but mostly it's him grumbling. His arms swing out in wide circles purple energy crackling through his fingers. He murmurs the incantation as sparks dance back and forth between his palms, lighting up his expression, brow furrowed and dotting with sweat. He'll then throw the energy from his hands...

What should have happened was a bolt of lightning should have struck the ground several feet in front of him. Instead, it fizzles out. The purple energy arches out into the air and dips to the ground. There's a clap and a flash, but it's far from impressive. Dorian frowns.

"Kaffas!" He shakes his head, hands on his hips. He'll wind up to try again, chest heaving. This time when he launches the energy there IS a bolt of lightning but it strikes dangerously close to his feet, making him yelp and jumps back. He smiles though, that's closer to what it's meant to be. He's huffing and panting, however. It's taking a lot more out of him than he'd like to admit.

"That one was a little better." He's somewhat out of breath.

Writing Kirigan off would have been childish and short sighted. It also would have been unfair to paint him in such black and whites, even if it did fit the aesthetic. Raylan wasn't that kind of man. The world was not black and white. It was even less so here.

He would, eventually, extend that to anyone who came upon him in this place. Until they gave him reason otherwise.

"About a calendar week," he answered sympathetically. "When it's over, you've got a free pass to as many hugs as you can handle. In the meantime," he said, pausing to half turn and gesture at his pile of rocks as he continues. "You wanna throw rocks at Mathis? Technically it's called skipping but it's this or we start taking apart the houses in the new area and frankly, I need a break. You can scream while you do it, I won't tell anyone. We could write our feelings about her on them."

Neal's chin lifts in slight surprise. "I was off a little--Russia. Headed in the right direction though."

He steps inside, smiling at the Darkling as he does so. "At least, that's where that dish comes from where I'm from. If you've never heard of Eastern Europe, I'm going to guess you've never heard of Russia either."

Dorian sits quietly letting Jeff attempt to process all he's said, he knows it's a lot. They just met after all, but it's important, he thinks. It's almost a little comforting being able to talk about his home, especially when he feels so much like an outsider in this place. Even if the topic is far from a happy one.

"Honestly? I don't know. I've only been here a few days and I'm not sure what dangers this world may throw at us. I wouldn't rule out the possibility if we are here to torment or for entertainment. No one really knows our purpose." He just knows that everyone seems to have the same kind of feeling for Mathias, that it's a dangerous shithole. So what else could this place want than to test them and make them miserable?

"I'm concerned about how weak and out of control my magic is. It makes me worry that my defenses could be the same. If I can't cast, who's to say I also may not be able to properly defend myself mentally from something trying to get into my mind and take over? If there are demons or spirits or who knows what else, could I be taken advantage of if I'm already weak?" He drinks a good gulp of moonshine before offering Jeff more.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to potentially give you one more thing to worry about or talk about such heavy details. But perhaps that's something we can hope to counter or strengthen if we're aware of the potential danger to ourselves and others." He sighs.

"I'll admit, it's part of what's holding me back from going to the boarding house and living with others. I know there's safety in numbers, but I also don't want to be a potential danger to everyone here. It's bad enough I could light the curtains on fire in my sleep if my control is so wildly out of whack."

Dorian's been making it a point to come out to practice every day, even if it's only for a little bit. He's determined to make progress. If he doesn't have his staff or a book, it's back to the basics, retraining himself to just use his hands and incantations. His focus isn't as honed as he would prefer, and it's not just because he's been so used to using a weapon for it. This world is making him really have to work for the pull and push of energy. It's like trying to pull taffy while static hisses in your ears. It's hard work, it wears him out fast for very little success. If he gets a spell off it's half the strength it should be, or it misses its target. Sometimes it's wildly off base, if he's lucky it doesn't blow up in his face.

This time, he's not so lucky. He's swirling crackling purple energy in between his palms, trying to throw a bolt of lighting out to strike a point safely away from his person. It instead strikes down right by his feet, close enough that it arches through the ground and rattles up his spine. There's a yelp and he's practically thrown back, sprawled out on the grass in a woozy heap. He groans, sitting up, every part of him trembling from the aftershocks. He shakes it off, blinking blearily as he realizes there's someone nearby, running over to him. what he's saying is muffled as his ears ring but he is more distracted by the wash of embarrassed shame. He's better than this. So much better than this and it's utterly frustrating.

"I'm... I'm alright." He murmurs, still a little shaken but no worse for wear.

"My pride is more wounded than anything." He sits up fully and just decides to remain seated for the moment, his heart is beating fast from adrenalin and his head is swimming a bit. He doesn't want to risk jello legs if he tries to stand, his extremities are still a little tingly.

"That was incredibly embarrassing..."

Dorian isn't too proud to admit his limit, especially with a new and fairly strong spirit he's imbibing. He has a lot he wants to accomplish in the morning, or even in the next few hours, so he'll wait it out and see what Moonshine does to him. For now, he's comfortable and loose, despite some heavier topics of conversation.

He can't help but to laugh softly, "Oh, don't worry, you'll be the first one I'll give my review to. Can I usually find you here? Or do you haunt other places?"

Then a pause to consider Raylan's job description, "And you got paid for that?"

A scoff, "Templar are the law enforcers where I'm from so if that's anything like what you used to do then if you were from my world you'd be chasing this ass up and down Thedas in an attempt to corral me home, I'd wager. Or try to arrest me and put me in a Circle."

He hums in thought and smiles, moustache curling just so as he rests his chin in his hands, "At least you'd have something nice to look at whilst chasing me around."

He's normally flirtatious and quite vain when it comes to his own good looks. Though this part of him doesn't typically and immediately pop out around strangers. Well, he loves talking, especially about himself, but the flirting is typically reserved for at least the second or third time they run into one another. Blame it on the moonshine for having him in a warm and comfortable place. His tolerance is fairly good, but the Moonshine is proving to be formidable.

"Oh, holy shit--" He doesn't necessarily mean to be loud, but he also didn't expect to stumble into a room he'd-- at least been sleeping in a long while to see Doc back in it. He pauses, stiffens in the doorway as he looks at the sleeping form of the man. His jaw tightens a moment.

He's been laying low as he can, keeping his ass as far out of Doc's way as possible. He's... alright, he can't say he's not suicidal at times, but he's damn sure not going out with someone's fucking butter knife-turned shiv. "If you're awake, I'm just-- gonna go crash in the garage, I guess. Sorry, man."

Uh-huh... Negan's not so sure about that, but he's not going to shit all over the mood going on here. "Tea'd be great. Not too hungry right now."

He's not much of a tea guy either, but hell, he'll take whatever has a little caffeine in it. "How's everything been holding up around here?"

"Maybe," Negan concedes. "I'm not one to talk about love, offer any kind of advice about that shit... or hell, I can, but I was a goddamn mess at it. Sure Lucille would've left me if it hadn't been the end of the goddamn world. In the end, I guess she did choose to leave me anyway. But as long as you're at least mostly happy and everybody's consenting to shit, then... that's the thing that matters. God knows that's the rule I go by back home."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Neal... you're kissing everybody, aren't you?" It's not said in a mean way necessarily, not even in a judgmental way. It's just a hell of a surprise to hear.

"I reckon-- it's one of those situations where it's better to let him hear it from Raylan, let them handle their shit, especially when your own feelings are wrapped up in this shit. Did you?"

He wasn't awake at first but Negan gets him up. Negan seems to have a bad habit of getting him up. A quiet, disgruntled little noise gets muffled as Doc buries his face in the sheets before rolling over, shielding his eyes from the light, taking his time to stir.

Had it been someone who'd want him dead he'd be long gone by now. But Doc feels safe enough in 1306 to lower his guard. At least until he lays his eyes on Negan. Then he's sitting up and tugging his singlet down, pulling the sheets up a little while squirming and getting settled in bed.

"What are you doing here?" he asks flatly. If they'd tried talking Doc out of being a great big meaniehead to Negan, he either refused to listen or didn't get the memo.

Jeff accepts it with a nod of thanks, taking a bigger pull of moonshine than he knows he ought to. It's not as hard as he'd hoped it would be. The shine's rough, but it's a familiar kind of rough.

He takes in Dorian's concerns with a feeling of guilt pooling in his stomach, curdling with the liquor. Here's this fellow mage, opening up about his vulnerabilities, warning Jeff about the dangers of things that are Other, and Jeff's acting like he's totally fucking innocent.

"It's..." He passes the shine back to Dorian with a wavering smile. "It's okay."

He hates this demon shit. He hates talking about it, he hates thinking about it, and he just wants to hide and play ignorant and let Dorian and everyone else here continue to see him as this soft, hapless nobody who's never experienced anything rougher than some mild suburban disappointment.

And he almost does it. Jeff's so fucking close to thanking the guy for the demonic heads up, but as he opens his mouth, all he can think of is his conversation with Kirigan the other day. The more one runs or ignores the past, the higher the chance it will catch up to them.

Fuck.

"In my experience... Demons are like moths. They're drawn to bright, shiny things." Powerful magic, flashy magic, burning through the aether. "I figure us being weak here? Makes it easier to hide from them. It's a good thing." He snorts. "Good, but fucking frustrating, dude."

But that being said?

"You shouldn't go at it alone. Trust me, that shit never works out."

Edited 2021-07-13 12:52 (UTC)

Why hasn't he shown Raylan or, hell, anybody what he can do? He used to love nothing more than to sing and perform and show off. Magic had been everything to him, and god, there was a time when he craved nothing more than the attention and adoration it used to bring him.

He wishes he had a quick and easy answer for Parker's question. It's complicated seems like a fucking cop out, especially to somebody who actually defended his honor and integrity! And he owes it to her to be somewhat honest, right?

"It's not about Raylan. I, uh... used to do a lot of stupid, reckless shit. It ended up blowing up in my face," he admits, with some reluctance, like he's letting her in on a totally embarrassing secret. "So... I don't really show anyone, anymore. I guess it's like stage fright."

And hey, even if she's wrong about Raylan being some evil (but wickedly handsome!) doppelganger, Jeff appreciates the effort! So he lights up with a warm smile and pulls Parker into a hug.

"Thanks for looking out for me. Sorry he didn't believe you."

"My world is vastly different from this one, yes," he says with a quiet scoff. He looks around the area and then shakes his head. If he didn't know any better, he could imagine that everything was absolutely fine but he knows as soon as he goes outside those doors, he'll be reminded.

"I'm not unfamiliar with the supernatural so in that, things are fairly similar. But, where I'm from, I'm able to move about freely and I'm not trapped by some magical force that refuses to let me go further than a set boundary."

And he hates it. He was willing to live with it at first but now, he's over it.

"And I'm also not used to whoever or whatever's controlling this not revealing themselves as of yet."

"Let's call it three days then," he said with a nod. If he had sleeves, he'd be rolling them up. "I'm sure there's a few spare sheets we can grab - you already located the paint for it?"

Raylan wasn't helping just because Neal was going to let him have first crack at it, or because he wanted help with the date. He was helping because he felt like he did so little of it nowadays and this really was a good idea.

Their community needed all the nice things that they could manage to provide.

Tim's eyebrows rose and out of everything Dorian said the younger marshal focused in on what he determined was the most important.

"I'm sorry, did you say magic?"

He sounds a curious combination of skeptical (which is his default setting) but also curious in a way that was almost childlike.

It throws him for a second.

"I dunno." Jeff very pointedly doesn't look at Raylan as he answers the question, way too obvious in his attempt at being subtle and nonchalant. Which is as good as saying 'yes.'

It used to be, he knew the tricks, the little telltale signs most people don't think to look for. He'd show up at a house party, mingle and make the rounds, get good and fucking wasted, and still walk out with the host's personal stash of whatever-- drugs, cash, shit to pawn for drugs or cash. Nobody ever thought to blame him, even after he'd started spiraling out. Not Jeff, who could have gotten anything he wanted with a smile, back in those days.

"I guess it depends on what you're looking for." When he figures he can convincingly be Jeff the dorky dad again, he looks at his twin with a playful grin. "It's a terrible power to have when you've got a teenager. I keep finding her diary, man!" He holds up a finger. "And no, I've never read it."

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Page 53 of 77

065-071 » assign to oblivion / part iii

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best to proceed with caution in general just in case! They talkin about heavy things

I MEAN Gil is A+ but he's also not in Mathias XD so sad

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That sounds good to me!

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Date night will be on Day 71 WHATEVER THAT IS FROM HERE

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