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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There's something going on in the woods. Nothing that feels bad or unsettling, but rather... kind of familiar? Not that he can see much through the trees, but whatever sparks he's seeing, they feel kind of like the distant cousin of his own Gift.

Magic. He can never fucking stay away.

So, sorry, Dorian, Jeff walks into the clearing just in time to watch a spell blow up in your face. He winces sympathetically.

"Dude, isn't this place the worst! I swear, even the easiest fucking spells will blow back on us!"

Dorian's wearing thin by this point but he's determined and he'll continue in his practiced flourish to try and cast his magic. The style is almost like a dance, looking almost a little more elegant without the use of a staff or a book in his hands. He knows he has the timing right, he knows he's whispered the right words, his focus is laser sharp and the only thing waning is his energy, feeling physically tired. It should work.

There's an illuminated circle of glyphs and runes at a point, safely away from him and when he flicks his wrist after finishing his tutting he's expecting it to sort of "lock" into place there. However, it backfires spectacularly and instead of arching out away from him, it detonates practically in his face with a spray of sharp ice and a cloud of cold.

There's a yelp as he staggers back, coughing, arms up, coated in a layer of ice that's thick around his wrists and arms above the elbow, but thins out across his chest and shoulders, splashing a bit over his waist and thighs. He managed to save his face, all except for a small cut on his cheek and brow.

The ice breaks easily as he shakes it off, so he's lucky in this instance that the power behind it wasn't what it was supposed to be. He's stood brushing off the frost from his person and frowning, cursing under his breath in Tevene. He ruffles a hand through his hair to fluff the last of the snowy frost out of it and set his quaff back into place. It's only about then he's realized someone saw that spectacular mess.

"Indeed, it certainly seems that way." He grumbles, eying the stranger, "I'm just glad it didn't do harm to you instead."

He finishes 'dusting' himself off and raises a hand to his cheek, touching the small cut with a hiss. He's a little winded as well, and what sweat was on his brow has been frozen off at this point, but he's aching and tired.

"I haven't had the pleasure of meeting another Mage as of yet. The name is Dorian Pavus." He looks... strikingly familiar to another fellow he met the other day, but the accent is a little different.

That's magic for you: beautiful one moment, and then totally blowing up in your face the next. Once the dust (well, ice and frost) settles, Jeff moves closer to his fellow wizard, frowning sympathetically at the state of him. At least he seems fine, aside from some ruffled hair and a little cut.

As Dorian looks at him, Jeff's frown quickly morphs into a bright, friendly smile, like he doesn't want to embarrass the other man by fussing over him.

"There's not a lot of us here," he says, a little note of regret in his voice, which he doesn't hide very well. But any loneliness he feels is quickly pushed back down, replaced with a cheerful tone. "But, um. Anyway! I'm Jeff! Nice to meet you." With a teasing grin, he adds, "Haven't been called a mage before. That is so old school where I'm from, dude."

"Do you know how many of us there are?" He'd asked this of someone else and they didn't have the answer, so he was still curious to know.

"Likewise, Jeff." He smiles softly, finding the odd manner of speech a little jarring.

"Old school?" His brows furrow some, trying to puzzle out the meaning. He assumes of course that it is somehow an old term for magic users, which is a strange thought in and of itself. But he supposes, if he were to consider this world and all its unfamiliar architecture, he would think to call it more advanced? perhaps? so maybe he COULD be from a time well before Jeff's own??

"I'll admit that's very strange considering there are a lot of Mages where I'm from and we aren't called anything else. Unless of course, you're a witch, but their magics are very different."

"Um..." Jeff takes a moment to consider Dorian's question, head tilting as he hums thoughtfully. "Besides the two of us, there's Athena-- she's a kid from my world. She's like, my apprentice." It seems the easiest way to sum up their relationship, though she's closer to a daughter than a student at this point. "And then there's Kirigan-- tall, kind of intense, always wears black. He's hard to miss." There's a beat, then Jeff snaps his fingers as he remembers another mage. "Oh! Tai! Young guy, bald, has this really chill vibe..."

And that's it for the town's magical population, far as Jeff knows. If there are others, he either hasn't met them yet, or he just doesn't know what they can do.

Jeff laughs a little and shakes his head. "Not a witch. Gifted, that's the word we use, back home." He shrugs a shoulder and fixes the other man with an amused look, mage to mage. "It's like... society's way of dressing it up and pretending it's not really magic."

Gifts and Talents, little euphemisms to make ordinary people feel a little more comfortable with the fact that magic exists.

"Witch is making a comeback, though! My daughter likes to use that word for herself."

"Five of us then? I suppose that's not an awful number considering I get the impression there isn't a very large population here, to begin with." He at least takes the names to heart.

"I've met Kirigan, and that sounds like a fitting assumption of him. The others I haven't." He's making mental notes, of course, listening through the jovial "American" speech. To the idea of Mages being called "Gifted" in almost a tongue-in-cheek sort of way, he rolls his eyes.

"I see, so I get the impression Magic is a little less common where you're from? Do they lock the Gifted up in towers out of fear as well?" He's not decided if Apostate is better than Gifted, to be quite honest.

"Oh? You have a daughter here as well?" Or did he mean his apprentice? He didn't want to assume. Or maybe it's someone from his home world he left behind?

He makes an agreeable hum. "Yeah... But you're the first one I've met who'll even call magic magic." Which in itself means something, at least to Jeff. Being displaced here, it's been hard to find any place to fit in, any sort of community like he had back home, even with other magic users.

Jeff lifts his brows, fixing Dorian with an utterly horrified look at the notion of mage towers. "No!" But then he sighs and huffs out a bitter laugh, somewhat at odds with his sunny demeanor. "Though I'm sure there's plenty of people who'd like to do that to us." Even thinking about it is unsettling. His expression softens in concern. "Fuck. That's what they do where you're from? They just... lock all the mages up?"

As for his daughter, Jeff shakes his head, a bittersweet smile pulling at his lips. "She's home." Safe. And who knows if he'll ever see her again.

"Ah, well, it's a good thing she's not here then. I'm just sorry, for what it's worth? I can't imagine what it must be like to be away from your family." Well, he might have at least a small clue, the Inquisition was quickly becoming something like family to him, but that's nothing compared to being away from a child, he thinks. Not that he'd really understand that either, his mother and father missed him, sure but the 'love' he was shown from them was for their own selfish interests. He couldn't really forgive his Father for what he'd done to drive him away. But to say he didn't long for what could have been if only things had been different would be a lie.

Dorian moves to a place in the clearing that isn't scorched from his practicing to sit down and make himself comfortable. He assumes this may be a long conversation with the way this is going. He'd found an empty bottle at one point with a screw cap and had gone back to take a portion of the moonshine from the Gull. He didn't want to take a whole bottle, there was a shortage, so he thought to only take some for himself. Besides, the stuff was strong, one didn't need to drink much at all. He pulls out what was once a plastic water bottle and opens the top to take a swig before offering it to Jeff if he joins him. He still pulls a face, moonshine is a lot harder than the stuff he's used to drinking. It's not what he would have ordered, ever, but beggars can't be choosey.

"Yes, and no. To answer your question." He sighs, "Most of Thedas has what we call Circles for the mages, but depending on where you grew up, a Circle can be a vastly different thing. In Tevinter, where I'm from, Circles are schools, some better than others, some more exclusive and prestigious." Those are the ones he went to, but he tended to be cycled through a couple of different schools because of the trouble he would cause.

"Outside of Tevinter, the Mages are seen as a threat, more trouble or danger than they are worth and in need of being under constant supervision. The Chantry and their Templar run the circles there, where they are more like prisons. All in the name of keeping the Mages safe, but it's more to keep the rest of society safe from Mages. Some are worse than others. Some are there to keep the Mages and Apostates secluded and to teach them to control themselves, but it's a gilded cage at best. Others... well, they are nightmarish by the stories I've heard." The Templar abused their power and the people under their charge.

There's a pause to consider if he should elaborate, the other is a Magic-user too, perhaps he should be warned? Who knows what this place could do to them.

"Mages aren't just feared for their power. In my world we get our power from the Fade, a world between reality and beyond. It's where spirits and demons reside. For a Mage, there is always the threat of possession from demon or spirit because of the connection to the fade, we give them a tether to reality, and a vessel to give them life anew. When that happens, your body and mind become twisted into something monstrous and the damage that follows can be catastrophic. Demons like to prey on our weaknesses. Fear, guilt, desire... we train ourselves to be able to defend ourselves from possession. It's something that's never far from my thoughts. Especially here, with my powers weaker, I worry what else might have been affected." He's not trying to scare Jeff of course, but perhaps it's something he should know or prepare himself for if he hasn't already.

Edited 2021-07-12 17:08 (UTC)

"I'm glad she isn't here," he admits, even if he would give just about anything to see Melody again. The knowledge that she's home, safe from the bullshit here, and likely with her mother, has been enough to keep him from totally losing his shit and going off the rails here. Still, family's a topic he doesn't want to linger on, and he's happy enough to listen as Dorian describes the situation in his world. He joins the other man, very nearly refusing the offered drink-- as he's done since Day One-- before changing his mind on an impulse and accepting.

Jeff pulls a face as the moonshine burns its way down his throat. First drop of alcohol he's had since he washed up here. Would the cowboys be proud, or disappointed? Most likely, they wouldn't give a shit. It's just a drink. Jeff's the fuck up who can't handle the simple concept of moderation.

As he listens to Dorian's explanation, Jeff can't help but wonder what he would have done in a world like that. Always hard to say, like, who really knows what they would do in the face of a monstrous 'normal'? He'd like to think he would put up a fight. The boy he used to be, reckless and selfish and so in love with magic, would've rather run away and burned everything than live in a gilded cage. The man he is now... Who can say?

And the Fade, it sounds so much like the Gift in so many ways. Though the Gift isn't a world, no, but a thread woven through all of reality, from the physical plane and beyond, to demons-- oh god, oh fuck, demons. The way Dorian describes them is so nauseatingly, intimately familiar, Jeff just wants to reach for that moonshine and drink until he blacks out. Are they from parallel realities? Does the Gift come from the Fade?

(I'm your biggest fan. He wants to forget those words, but they're playing in his head now, a fucking earworm from the past. I'm your biggest fan. I'm your biggest fan. I'm your biggest--)

"Huh," he manages, like this is all very novel, very new information. "That's a lot to process." He's still trying (failing?) to come across as somebody who's definitely never even considered the subjects of demons and possession before, as he asks: "You think that's... going to be an issue here?"

Edited 2021-07-12 17:49 (UTC)

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."

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)

Dorian would like to think of himself as at least somewhat compassionate. He may not always have the most astute awareness of someone's emotions or how they might react to the things he's blurted out but when it comes to it he can read and attune. So when the other says it's "okay" there's something wavering in his smile and expression that makes Dorian wonder, "is it really?" Perhaps he did strike something close to home after all. At first, with Jeff's initial response to the subject matter, he was beginning to think that perhaps, wherever he's from they didn't have the same kind of concern over demonic possession, not nearly to what it was in Thedas anyway.

Until now. Now he's thinking maybe Jeff has had some kind of experience with it after all. That's only defined further with his attempt to assuage his worries over such things, with an admittedly sound thought.

"Perhaps. I do think you are at least close to something there, I can only hope you are right." But he knows what kind of a beacon he burns to anything attracted to such bright flames of the magical kind. He's a powerful mage, one of the best. Even weakened as he is he can't imagine he's going to put off that much less of a flare to anything attracted to him. He's more concerned they might take notice and be able to see the breaks in his defenses to weasel their way in. Though perhaps he's not giving himself near enough credit, he'd have to break first and allow them power over him. He'd have to give them permission to come in. And he'd rather die.

To the rest, it gives him pause. He's not wrong. He'd gone alone for a time and if he were honest with himself he hated it. People were messy and frustrating and awful at times but he liked being around them anyway. That bit of chaos was worth not being alone. Maybe he should be around someone if he accidentally sets something on fire. Or maybe he should have someone there to pull him out of his own head if a demon gets in and starts to pull him apart.

"I suppose you're right." He sighs, "I just... well I haven't made many friends as of yet. Not anyone I'd think would want to put up with me as a roommate on the daily. I'm rather particular. I can be incredibly demanding, especially when it comes to cleanliness." He has a soft laugh at himself.

"I suppose if I were to shack up with someone I should find someone who could handle my powers going awry, among other things." He's aware of what 'shack up' implies, that's also a little bit of a joke. Though depending on how things go or how he hits it off with someone he's potentially living with, friends with benefits isn't exactly off the table.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

065-071 » assign to oblivion / part iii

the woods; sorry for the delay!

No worries! <3

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CW: imprisonment and abuse of power, talk of possession

cw addiction and let's just keep the possession train going

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

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