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072-078 » pages of possible futures

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: Mathias Township proper
WHEN: Days 072-078
WHAT: The future is set in motion once more.
WARNINGS: (PM this account to have a warning added!)
NOTES: Plotting post over here! Next log will be the weekend of July 31.
MOD NOTE: The week did not go as planned. Apologies for the delay on this log and thank you for your patience!

RECOMMENDED ♫ Marco Beltrami "Bad Omens"

DAY 072
“The visions are fragmented and a dark cloud spreads
like spilt ink across the pages of possible futures.”
— Garth Nix
Blue skies greet residents on this bright new morning filled with summer sunshine. It's a day when birds would normally be singing, when there would be boats taken out on the water, children laughing and running through the streets. But in Mathias there is only silence, eerie and almost deafening in its absoluteness, and those blue skies do not stretch on forever. Far off on the horizon are dark clouds stretching ominously in all directions, never moving closer or farther away. They are always there, dark and angry, as if waiting... For what, who can say, but they will remain there for the days going forward, circling the town like a shark circles a meal.

Despite that dreadful darkness in the distance, there is some good news. Residents will also wake to find that their previously missing belongings have returned to them. Clothing and other personal effects are right where they should have been, as if they have always been there, and there is no sign of them having been returned by someone or something. They're just there.

That is, however, the extent of the good news. Residents who visit the Town Hall will find the bulletin board much changed, and those who have thrown caution to the wind and made use the sedatives found within Baneberry Hall will begin to find themselves changing as well. They are easily distracted while awake and plagued by nightmares while asleep. They dream of Mathias burning, fire spreading from the east until it consumes everything in its path. With increasing intensity as the week continues, they will wake with terror gripping their chests and sweat covering their too-hot skin.

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.

DAY 073-075
With those dark clouds still hanging on the horizon, some residents may find themselves watching the ocean a little more closely, searching for signs of whatever it is they are beginning to sense is approaching. If they do, they will find those signs, for every so often a dark shape will appear from out of the water before disappearing a few moments later. Residents are welcome to try getting a better look at those shapes, though moving to higher vantage points will be ineffective and swimming may not be the best investigation method.

Nightfall strengthens the sense of that elusive something. Though nothing can be seen in the darkness, there is something out there. They can feel it when they are outside themselves, a heavy presence that their animal instincts warn them against, urging them to flee to safety indoors. But once inside, they can hear whatever is out there in the night, the sounds horrifying and yet utterly indescribable and beyond the limits of their perception.

There is no way to glimpse what might be making those sounds, nor is there any way to properly record them, though attempts may be made to do so.

DAY 076-077
The strange occurrences of recent days continue as something attempts to lead residents out into the southern forest should they venture within view of the treeline. Unrecognizable voices may call out incoherently or the sounds of someone moving through the trees may pull at their attention. Or, perhaps, a dark figure entering the forest will catch their eye, pulling them to follow the possibly feminine figure with no discernible characteristics.

Whatever it is, it will lead them along the paths or even away from their relative safety, winding this way and that until they're completely lost within the expanse of sun-dappled trees that seem innocent and threatening at the same time. There is nothing left to do but continue following that figure that is always just ahead at the edge of sight.

Eventually, the trees stop and there is a stretch of clearing, the sky a crisp blue overhead, sun shining down and yet—

That dark figure is still shrouded in shadow, as are the other four that have joined it. All slight with long hair, something feminine in the way they stand with hands held out at their sides, facing outward in a line along the edge of the ravine that borders the township, though for some reason their features cannot be focused on enough for true comprehension. They stand there in silence as if waiting, so close to the edge that a strong wind could easily knock them over into oblivion. A concerned resident might try to stop them; a curious one might try to finally get a better look at the figures that led them to this place. Regardless of the reason, any movement into the clearing toward them will end in the same result.

All five figures step forward as one and disappear into the nothingness below.

The ravine so deep that the bottom cannot be seen and wide enough that the other side is tantalizingly out of reach. At first, there is the sense that safety is just beyond if only they could get there, but with that sensation is also the knowledge that if they stay here, death will be a certainty. The edge seems unsteady, like getting too close would set it crumbling and send them tumbling into that as well...

That is when those who do venture to the edge see the truth of the ravine and what lies beyond it: nothing. There is a neverending dark nothingness below and beyond this ravine, beyond this town, and there is something staring back from within the dark.

DAY 078
As morning arrives in Mathias, so too does the storm. Those clouds that hovered in the distance move in quickly, plunging the town into a twilight-like darkness. The rumbling that breaks the silence is like that of a thunderstorm but infinitely more ominous, signaling something approaching that is not meant for the world of man. Within just a few minutes, the residents will learn why as lightning arcs across the sky, the cracks of powerful energy echoing through the air. Those branching spikes at first remain in the sky, but then suddenly they crash down to meet the earth, striking the Lighthouse. The sound of splintering wood and pierced metal fills the air, followed moments later by the roaring crackle of a fire raging into existence. Those cracks and crashes continue as the lightning moves inward, hitting the forest, the beach, and the Grey Gull before moving down Phillips Drive to attack the homes left rotting by time.

While the lightning eventually retreats to the sky, the fire spreads with purpose. It leaps from building to building, consuming everything in its path. It is a living, breathing thing driven by a need to devour. There is no stopping or controlling the almost sentient entity, for it does not behave as fire normally would — it skips buildings before doubling back, burns when there's nothing to fuel it, and seems to almost actively pursue residents fleeing to safety. Ultimately, the fire consumes everything east of the Library, from Jackson Boulevard to the beach and the northeastern forest to the Lighthouse; for an unknown reason, it does not venture farther inland than this.

Ash falls from the sky like snow throughout the town as the eastern half of Mathias glows a terrifying raging red. Residents may seek sanctuary in businesses along the square or in areas in the western half of the town, though the latter will not be without its own risks and consequences.

SANITY LOSS

There are multiple opportunities for sanity loss within this log. All instances of such should be reported before the next log.
— BANEBERRY SEDATIVES These will effect all who have taken them, regardless of type, quantity, or frequency, until the storm on day 78. Each night of nightmares will result in 1 point of sanity loss for a potential total loss of 6 points.

— FIGURES IN THE FOREST All who witness the figures jump into ravine will suffer 3 points of sanity loss.

— SEEING BEYOND THE RAVINE Any who see the truth of what is beyond the ravine will suffer 7 points of sanity loss that cannot be recovered. Additionally, any Madness that results from this sanity loss begins immediately.

— DEATH BY FIRE All who are killed by the fire lose 3 sanity points and gain the Madness pyrophobia for seven days, which should be reported. The pyrophobia will be experienced at an intensive level for the duration of the Madness.

CONDITIONS UPDATE

— THE WEATHER Summer has arrived in Mathias, bringing with it warm days that average 70°F and comfortably cool nights.

— THE FOG has maintained its recent 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 have ceased for the moment but they're sure to begin again soon.

OOC NOTES

— ENDGAME We are officially heading into endgame. Over the next few months, things will begin ramping up and moving toward the always planned conclusion, with the last log projected to go up between the end of October and middle of December.

What does this mean? Essentially, hopefully, this will mean more opportunities to dig into the mysteries and lore of the game, as well as more chances for your characters to creep toward insanity. However, how things progress and what information comes to light will depend upon character interaction with the setting and involvement with the mysteries of Mathias.

— ITEMS FROM HOME All items from home have returned to the exact state and location in which they were last seen. This includes all clothing and possessions they had on their person when they arrived in Mathias (or, for arrivals in the previous log, what they should have had). Items from home that were left behind by other characters no longer in the game have also returned.

— THE FIRE A rough representation of where the fire spreads is available over here.

— REMINDER There are a lot of moving parts to this log, as there will be for all logs going forward. Read the narrative and all OOC notes thoroughly and carefully. Ask questions if something is not clear, but please also look through questions others have asked for further clarification.

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"Raylan," Doc calls out half over his shoulder. 'Get your scrawny ass over here on the double' is sort of implied despite the lack of urgency in his voice.

"I don't think you'll be needing anything. It's quite warm out today, and I don't expect you'll take long." Doc runs a reassuring hand from Malcolm's shoulder down the length of his upper arm. He trusts Raylan enough to swap New Yorkers back again so he can spend some time checking Neal over.

"Raylan," Doc repeats using his inside voice once the Marshal's sauntered on over. "Why don't you take Malcolm out for a walk? A couple rounds around town should clear your heads. Get some fresh air. I'll uh, do some cleaning up."

Abandoning the now half cleaned up shards, Raylan stepped around Neal and made his way into the living room with an inquisitive lift of his eyebrows, nodding at the suggestion.

"We can go for a walk," he nodded, eyes falling to Malcolm with the gesture before he looked over at Henry. "Let's get Neal on the couch first." Out of the puddle of blood he's laying in was what Raylan didn't say, for obvious reasons.

"I'll help you get him cleaned up properly when we come back."

Malcolm stood up when Raylan mentioned bringing Neal to the couch. He was just in the way at this point. He shuffled himself towards the door, glancing towards the stairs, shifting from foot to foot, glancing towards the kitchen, towards where he still couldn’t quite see Neal where he lay on the floor.

Just can’t rein in those killer instincts now, my boy.

Malcolm looked at the floor, the nervous shifting of his weight more agitated as he refused to answer the delusion or even look at it.

Let’s face it, that’s going to come in handy if you face real danger here. One relatively innocent life is a small price to pay.

He covered his ears.

Didn’t they say this town wanted blood? Maybe you just need to slaughter a few sacrificial lambs and maybe you can escape. I’m not saying these ones, per se, but they’re conveniently right here…

“NO!!” he suddenly screamed and bolted out the door.

Well. So much for that calming, midmorning stroll. It wasn't for lack of trying but they honestly cannot be holding hands 24/7 while trying to hold the fort down and keeping this house running on top of all the other things they had taken on. Doc isn't capable of that kind of multitasking - or that kind of coddling, for that matter.

"Go. I can manage Neal." The more they dallied the further Malcolm would get and the more likely he is to pose a danger to himself - and to others.

"He'll be okay," Doc manages to squeeze in before Raylan is gone. He doubts Raylan really needed to hear it. He says it anyway. It is what friends do. One less thing for him to worry about.

Raylan turned with Malcolm's shuffle, eyes darting the profilers way but landing back on Doc for all of a half second before Malcolm was bolting. He had hoped that Malcolm would hold tight for just a minute so they could walk out together, but apparently, Malcolm wanted to sprint.

"Goddamnit," Raylan said, glancing to Henry with a nod at the assertion and darting out the door, barely registering the reassurance. They were gonna have to get this man a damned leash.

"MALCOLM," Raylan yelled as he legged it behind the profiler. "STOP!"

He didn't want to tackle the man, but he was not afraid to.

Malcolm ran blindly towards the beach when he bolted from the house, but he glimpsed the lighthouse and something in him understood what he had to do. He changed course, running for the path.

But then Raylan’s voice from behind him. Raylan. His resolve crumbled and he slowed, falling to his knees in the middle of the road, just slumped there.

Oh thank god. Having had enough bad experiences slipping on traction and smashing his face, Raylan was desperately pleased that he didn't have to do either. Shit Malcolm was fast.

Raylan came to a stop and squatted down, one hand move over and around Malcolm's shoulders. "Hey," he started, half instinctually, not winded and with no sense of retaliation in his tone. "You can't go up there."

Oh yes. He saw where Malcolm had looked, where he had started to head and Raylan knew that path like the back of his hand now. He knew where it lead. Never mind that Tim was already up there, Raylan wasn't going to lose someone else to that fucking lighthouse if he could help it.

Malcolm had no idea that Tim had taken up a hobby of the lighthouse. He remembered almost falling off of the top of the stairs. He remembered looking down into the ocean smashing against the rocks from the outside, a long long way down.

But Raylan, it would seem, was going to catch him before he fell. Again.

He pressed his palms into his eyes for a moment.

“I was going to come straight back down,” he promised grimly.

"Off the edge like Bucky off those damned cliffs? No, you're not."

If Malcolm insisted, it would be over his dead body and they already had one person close enough to bleeding out, Raylan doubted Malcolm wanted to add another.

"Come on. Let's get you back on your feet," he said, prepping Malcolm to stand up if he was ready. "We got a walk to go on."

Malcolm was easily hauled to his feet. He looked down at them.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said with quiet intensity. “I thought he was the Shadow Man. Like that time at the Boarding House when I almost brained Negan with a fire poker. That’s how I know he wouldn’t hurt us. I was actively trying to take his head off and he didn’t hurt me.” He looked at Raylan sidelong. “I’m more dangerous than he is. He can control it.” He looked ahead of them. “Where are you going to take me?” he asked as grimly as he promised his trip down the lighthouse.

"You're not going to," he assured, rubbing his hand across Malcolm's shoulder. He wanted to tell Malcolm that he wasn't, he wasn't dangerous but it would be a flat lie. Neal laying bleeding in their living room was proof enough of that.

"Not to a farm upstate if that's what you think." Raylan turned him back towards town and got them going. "Just for a walk darlin', that's all. Get you outta there for a few minutes, let Doc clean up. Let's go look at the tree line, huh? Movement will help."

Malcolm looked at him.

"You don't want me to go? Do you think it's still okay for... people... to sleep in my room?"

Raylan, in particular. Though both cowboys slept right in his bed with him. Maybe it was too dangerous.

"Maybe I should get some more restraints from the asylum and... let someone lock me in." He hated the idea of not being able to let himself out of the restraints but... maybe it was safer for everyone else.

Raylan looked over with a serious furrow of his brow.

"No." Unequivocally. "I don't want you to go and I don't think Neal would let us even if that wasn't the case. He loves you." It was safe to say because Raylan knew how Malcolm would take it. In that hippie, feel good way that he and Henry didn't quite settle into comfortably.

"And yes, we're gonna keep sleepin' in your room. Unless you start tryin' to store plate shards under your pillow or something." Somehow he doubted it. But he was adamant about everything else; they weren't going to leave Malcolm to do this by himself and Raylan was unwilling to give Malcolm up to the lighthouse.

He shook his head at the suggestion. "We can talk about that later. Figure out if it's even needed. Set up some rules about how to handle you when you're in the middle of it. Alls we need is protocol."

Edited 2021-07-24 02:54 (UTC)

They were away from it all now, he had time to think about it and he said that and he meant it.

Malcolm looked at him like he discovered a new species and then he shifted closer and took Raylan’s hand.

“Do you think Neal will live?” he asked softly, grasping that hand tightly.

He wasn't done with anyone; that hadn't changed. Yes, Raylan felt some kind of way about what had happened, but the base line hadn't changed. They weren't getting rid of Malcolm. Negan could control himself, yes, but that made his choice so much worse.

Raylan laced their fingers together and squeezed tightly in return. "I hope so. I can't say yes or no because gut wounds can be nasty but. All we can do is wait and see. Keep him comfortable while his body heals. Can you tell me what happened?"

Malcolm pressed his lips together and nodded. He could do that. He could do that for Raylan.

“I was in the kitchen. I… I wanted to make some tea,” he said, his voice a little rough from screaming, then crying, then screaming, then crying and then screaming. “Then the Shadow Man was there. He was just. There. In the house. I shouted at him to get away. But he kept… coming towards me. He tried to grab me and I just… grabbed whatever was there to protect myself. But then he was gone and Neal was on the floor.” His voice wavered. “Neal was on the floor and he was bleeding and then you came.”

It barely even registered that Raylan came because Malcolm screamed and screamed and screamed bloody murder.

The fucking shadow man. Oh the plans Raylan had for that particular figure if they ever caught him in a corporeal form. It wasn't something he'd be able to do himself, but he had plans nonetheless.

"I heard you screaming. Only the last bit; I was cleanin' next door." His thumb brushed back and forth over Malcolm's knuckles. "Okay, so, help me figure this out. Clearly, if someone comes across you havin' an episode, it's a two man job, right? It's worth suffering the terror of two if no one gets hurt - can you handle that? I don't want us to make any plans on how to handle things without your input. But we can't let this happen a third time."

A third time a third time he almost killed his friends twice.

“If I’m going to hurt someone, two people should take me down, at least. If I’m only going to hurt myself… maybe just let me until I snap out of it. Then none of you will get hurt,” he suggested with a sniffle.

"No. We're not leavin' you to twist in the wind. We can't watch that and do nothing. And we have to watch. We are part of this, whether you like it or not," Raylan insisted quietly with a tightening of his hand against Malcolm's.

"Someone is always gonna get hurt here. Even with anything we do. But we're not letting anyone do it on their own."

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ONE ETERNITY LATER…..

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