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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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Unmanaged panic and fear wasn't something that Raylan was used to. It would never look good on him, no matter how pretty a man he was, but then again, neither did mental disturbances. The fire, the lightning - He'd seen it all before. He'd died by it once already, marred himself a step closer to the monster he sometimes felt like he was, he wasn't going to do it again.

With his focus so narrowly focused on the safety of the forest, the calls behind him were whipped away by the storm's winds, the howling peppered with intermittent strikes of lightning more than enough to cover it. The second call reached him and the glance back that he chanced resulted in a stumble. Thankfully, he caught himself, forward momentum keeping him moving.

Fifteen yards if it was a foot, he figured, til he hit the trees. Until he was safe. If he'd have been of sounder mind, running would not have been an option but Raylan's brain was in full self-preservation mode. He had suffered enough, seen enough and everyone would come back. He'd saved Neal, even though he could have stayed, made sure that Malcolm got out. That Doc and Negan and Athena and Jeff got out.

'Coward. Liar.'

'You make people feel worthless'

'You use people for your own ends, Raylan'

Wasn't that all true now?

"FESTIS BEI UMO CANAVARUM!!" He curses loudly as he realizes whatever panic has gotten ahold of the once cool and collected Marshal is a lot more potent than his calls. He knows Raylan has seen him but he's making a bee-line for the trees. The Fire behind them, the storm above them, none of it was welcoming, but that forest was a worse option to hide in. They may never find him again if he makes it into the treeline.

Dorian stops, eyes flicking up to the sky with a low snarl. He closes his eyes and silently asks the Maker to give him strength before he opens them again with purpose. He'll swirl his hands, tutting with the motions of a spell before reaching out for the angry clouds. This is a gamble, but he's hoping it works like it's supposed to. Otherwise, he may be owing Raylan an apology if he survives it.

With the energy already brewing above it's easy enough to reach out for it and grab hold of it with his magical ability. He then draws down a lightning strike, cutting his hand through the air to direct it several feet in front of Raylan, aiming more for the edge of the trees to bar his path. It lands a little closer than intended but safe enough away from him it won't rattle his skull too hard. If anything it'll startle him and leave him a little jittery.

Satisfied the streak of purple energy hasn't killed the man outright he starts running again to catch up to him.

It was speed against accuracy, Raylan's willpower verses Dorian's in a race that the Marshal didn't realize he was running. Ultimately, Magic won out and the cracking bolt hit all of six feet in front of Raylan's last step.

To say that it rocked him would be an understatement. The man folded down onto his knees like a broken accordion with the sudden stop of momentum, hands clamped over his ears as he tried to ignore the faint burning smell and the way his vision swam in purple white that didn't feel like it was fading fast enough. Good thing too, he could skip having to hear the string of curses that he was spouting.

By the time Dorian caught up to him, Raylan was starting too recover fractionally, though his hearing wasn't quite up to par and his bearings were shot. He had been an arm and a halves length away from a new death, an old death, another death and since he couldn't make himself move, he supposed it was up to Mathis now, if he survived this or not.

Like a lone sheep left out to the many wolves that she had roaming around, waiting for another taste of him.

There's a slight wince as the man crumples. Okay, so he had been feeling fairly confident that the bolt shouldn't have been strong enough to stop his heart but now he's worried maybe the storm itself packed more punch than his spell. His footfalls are quick and he'll damn near stumble to the ground as he slides across the grass in his attempt to stop short next to the other. He's down on one knee in front of him now, trying to level his gaze on the dazed man in front of him.

"Raylan? Raylan. Hey." He reaches for him, cupping his face in his hands, palms warm against cold skin.

"Look at me. You need to listen to me." He barely knows this man, but the only thing going through his head right now is trying to reason with him as if he were speaking to any one of his companions from back home to talk them out of something stupid.

"We need you back there. You need to pull yourself together. If you go in those woods you aren't coming back out. There are people in town that need help getting to safety before the fires kill us all. Do you hear me?"

Thankfully, Raylan came from a sturdy kind of stock and while the bolt had been Something™, he would survive it without any lasting repercussions. Mathis had already served him more than this; if anyone was going to take him out for good, it would be the town.

Raylan's eyes swam, darting around the blurry edges of Dorian's face as his own was handled with palms of what felt like near fire, making him gasp shallowly in the shock of differences, head bobbing before his eyes center and sharpen into clarity as his brows furrow.

"Dorian," he answered softly, correctly pegged as 'dazed', one hand coming up to hook into his forearm. Dark, almost black eyes darted back and forth between Dorian's as he listened, head starting to shake as the Mage suggested going back. "I can't, I can't die like that again.," he said, gripping tighter as he pushed forwards a little bit, no real intent beyond pressing his point. "I can't die like that again, I can't, I can't save them and neither can you. If Mathis wants them, she will take them, she'll take them."

It was a plead, a curse on the town, a breaking of his heart all over again as he gasped into his next words, coming up onto one knee to match like he intended to bring Dorian to his feet with him. "Come with me - The forest won't burn, it can't burn I don't know why but she doesn't let it burn, It's safe there in this one instance-"

Dorian's hard, determined expression softened some as the other began to mutter, broken, scared, angry, defeated. His brows knit with concern and pity and he listens, feeling the other's pulse hammering away, seeing the way his eyes swim with panic and fear. He shakes his head to almost mirror the other.

"No, No Raylan, We aren't going into that forest. It's a deathtrap. It's like Mathias is scaring you out into her claws." He keeps one hand on his cheek, the one that Raylan is gripping firmly like it's his only anchor. His other hand weighs down on his shoulder to keep him from springing up and running.

"I need you to trust me. I won't let you die, or anyone else. I can do this, but we need to get back to town. Together." His confidence in himself at this moment is steadfast even if he's lying to both of them, right now he believes it. He has to, for Raylan's sake.

"We can't leave them, Raylan." His fingers squeeze his shoulder and clutch his face.

"I'll get you away from the fire, I'll make sure you're safe, but you need to trust me. You need to come with me. I won't leave without you." In this moment he's weighing his options if the other tries to bolt again or refuses to go. He may have to try to knock him out and carry him off, which he is very much hoping won't be the case...

Edited 2021-07-26 01:33 (UTC)

Please.

Raylan glanced at the roaring fire with a choked, half ragged breath that belayed tears that weren't yet in his eyes and another shake of his head before he was looking back at Dorian helplessly. What the man was saying struck true, rang with all the logical bells in his head and the manic side that was in control was reluctantly coiled in.

"I left them. Doc and Jeff and 'Thena, I left them and I don't know where Tim is or Malcolm and I-" His hand gripped tighter around Dorian's wrist, eyes pleading. I can't save them.

Shit.

'I won't leave without you.'.

If Dorian said he could get the Marshal somewhere safe, Raylan needed to trust him. He wanted to trust him, this kind stranger that he didn't know, pulling the job that Raylan normally did, had always done, and there were no longer the defenses left in him to stand against it. "Alright, okay," he relented with another jagged breath and a nod that wasn't quite straight up and down, coming around to the acceptance that he was fundamentally useless right now.

"But I don't know any place that's safe here, it's all her. It's all Mathis." But he'd go, suddenly more pliable and herdable after his decision; he'd go.

"We still have time." His thumb idly brushes over his cheek, just under his eye in a small attempt at comfort.

"I'll look for them then, I'll see to it they're safe." The irony here is that Athena and Jeff will be the ones saving him, but for now, it sounds good. Anything to ease Raylan's mind a little more. He's making note of the things he's saying though. Mathis is a She? So there is a potential Entity here that is orchestrating all of this? Or is this madness?

Dorian nods as the other agrees, "Further West, as far away from the fires as we can. We need to get everyone away from it and we can figure something out from there, whatever we can to buy more time. I'll be fighting and trying to hold back the fires with my magic. At least until it runs out, but I will do what I can to slow it down."

But there's something he needs to do first. The man looks like he's in an exceptionally fragile state like he could shatter if the air blew just a little too hard. They're out here alone and Raylan didn't seem like the type of man that was okay with breaking in front of anyone. They were strangers, it might be easier to let himself break for a moment with him than it would be for someone he needed to be strong around. He needed this if he were going to be able to clear his head.

He thought about standing but depending on how hard this shatters him they may just fall right back to their knees. IF he lets him embrace him in the first place. This could go any which way but dammit he was going to try to at least comfort the poor freaked out Marshal.

The Mage shifts his weight as if he's about to stand, but instead it's his grip that moves. He wraps his arms around the lanky man, pulling him in for an embrace, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other around his shoulders securely as he squeezes him gently.

"It's alright. We're going to get through this, together." Fuck toxic masculinity, everyone needs to be hugged and told everything would be okay once and a while.

If only Raylan could believe that. Meaningful time had narrowed down to the hours that he spent in good company but the rest was a blur of questions, self doubt, and indignit fury, if not flat out terror. But Dorian's soft words and thumb stroke weren't for nothing; Raylan's hand worked it's half minded grip on Dorian's wrist as one of the more important facts about Fire in Mathis surged to the forefront of his worry again.

"It's Alive, Dorian, the fire. You can't let it get you, you don't want to go out like that." Not for us, people you barely know. Dorian had a better chance than all of them, due to that magic. Magic that Raylan was willing to trust. Had to trust.

Having had it in his mind that they were going to stand, Raylan didn't see the hug coming and there was no fight to pulling him in, though a small sound broke from the back of his throat as his arms wrapped back around in kind. Dorian was right. Raylan was not one to break down in front of people, period, but there was more freedom to do so with someone who didn't hold his image against him.

Raylan didn't know what about him screamed 'Hug Me' but this wasn't the first time it had happened. Something for him to consider when all his brains are in order. And to judge by the way Raylan let the broader man take his weight, he had needed it.

"You can't die, not after that," he threatened weakly, turning his forehead to rest against Dorian's shoulder as he pulled back a fraction, taking a few deep breaths. "We gotta keep movin', it won't stop." He nodded like he was convincing himself and look into Dorian's face again. "We gotta go."

Dorian sighs softly, letting himself relax a little as the other rests his weight against him and goes into the embrace. He can feel how he trembles, fighting with himself, his feelings, between needing to be strong and wanting to shatter. His hand cards through his hair, sweat-slicked as it is, trying to further calm him down and let him just get what he needs from this connection. He loosens his hold when Raylan moves, pulling back only a fraction to rest his head on his shoulder. He presses his cheek to his temple briefly, letting him talk, and giving a small chuckle.

"Don't worry, I've no intention of letting it have me. I'm much too pretty to die like that." Half-joking, half-full of himself, "I've dealt with firey demons before, this isn't much different."

Well, it was very different but Raylan didn't need to know that, and right now he believes it as well. And when the other looks into his eyes again he nods, letting his hand drift back to his shoulders. He seems more himself again, even if it's only going to last so long. There's a moment, something he recalls and pools from deep within himself and his memory. An affectionate gesture that stuck with him, in all the rare instances he ever got such things from others. His mother, convincing him the boogie man wasn't real, a lover, assuaging his fears and boosting his ego.

He tips his head up and leans in to press a small, chaste kiss between Raylan's brows before pulling back and smiling.

"Screw the town, Screw Mathias, she won't have us. Any of us. You and I, we need to fight her with everything we have and keep these people safe, alright?" He nods again and gently grips Raylan's shoulders, giving a squeeze before helping him to his feet as they stand together.

"Let's go back. Quick as we can. Those people need us."

As much as Raylan hated to admit it, he could add how easily he did temper down under the almost brotherly tending. Having been an only child, that kind of sense wasn't one he'd picked up strongly before. Mathis had worn him down in way he had never expected. Hands in his hair was always soothing; a callback to when he was small and vulnerable and willing to crawl into someone's lap for it.

Half a scoff of a laugh could be spared for Dorian's 'I'm too pretty to die like that', but it died too quickly to be anything more. Still, it was a victory, in its own right. Raylan was more like himself, for the moment and the moment was all Dorian needed to surprise him again with the kiss on his forehead.

When the man pulled back, Raylan's face greeted him with utter bewilderment that was sloppily half tucked away as he nodded in agreement. Doc and Negan and Malcolm, Ainsley, Neal. Tim. Where was Tim? Raylan knew he couldn't go back into that fire and he hated himself more than a little for it but if he couldn't run into the woods, he had to do something with himself that didn't make him feel even more like shit.

"As far as I can," he promised with a shaky breath, hands falling back to his side to rhythmically squeeze as he tried to reign in the new flare of terror that came with 'Let's go back'. "I better lay eyes on before the sun comes up." The weak threat came with a finger jutted in Dorian's direction before Raylan took a deep breath and started moving forwards.

"Puttin' a lotta faith in magic I ain't seen you use yet." The fact that he was said volumes in of itself.

"Whatever you can manage," He nods, "I'll have your back. We'll get you and the others somewhere safe."

As they rise together he'll follow along at his heels, making sure he doesn't change his mind and turn-tail to run for the woods. They can skirt wide around the edge of the town, keeping away from the fire and keeping an eye on Raylan's reaction. He'll gently guide him the long way around keeping a healthy distance from the flames.

"Not my fault you were running scared when I was casting. That purple lighting bolt was partially me though. I do apologize, but I saw no other way to stop you."

"Not the center of town," Raylan specified. "I've seen this before, this happened in the Other Mathis after I died," he continued, chest still heaving a little too heavily. His eyes didn't stay still, shifting back to the roaring fire every few seconds with an open concern for it's rage.

But he was amazingly easy to herd, now that he'd been roped in, though Dorian was smart to keep his position. Raylan was anything but predictable when the situation shifts, unless you were Tim and had been following his narrow ass for the last few years.

Raylan's gait slowed as he looked back, face twisted in confusion. "Wait, what? You did that? What do you mean partially?" Jesus, had he just almost died? He had felt like it, but it was easier to blame Mathis and not the guy who had just picked him up off the ground.

"Yes, partially because I simply harnessed the power and energy that was already there in the sky and directed it to strike in front of you." He keeps pace with him, staying just a step or two behind in case the other decides to peel off and run, that perhaps he didn't trust him after all.

"Look, it was a gamble, I know that, but it was all I had to keep you from going to your death in that forest. And see? You're perfectly alright." As fine and dandy as the man could be while utterly terrified.

"I promise to give you more of a show when all this is over, okay?"

Yeah, because that's something normal that people can do. Raylan gawks at him openly over his shoulder, only looking ahead because he trips over something that reminds him that yes, he does in fact have to mind where the Hell he is going.

"I'm gonna have to check my eyebrows later. My shorts too," he admitted gruffly; a tone that did not match the rest of his anything.

"You better. I don't mind magic, all that shit I'll never be able to do, but damned if I don't like a good show. If I had my gun, I could give you one in return, but Mathis robbed me 'a that too." And he fucking hated it, even if, pragmatically speaking, it was probably for the best.

Dorian is close enough that when the Marshal trips he'll reach out to firmly catch his elbow and make sure he doesn't fall on his face. When he's sure he's good he'll let go and just shake his head.

"Well, I can see your eyebrows and they seem to have survived, and walking downwind of you I haven't caught the whiff of anything incriminating." But he may still want to double-check later.

"You can return the favor and show me what a gun does should you ever come across one." He sighs, "Seems like Mathias is in the habit of taking the things we care about from us. Any way to make our lives just a tad bit harder, hm?"

"Thank you," was murmured as he was caught - half crazed or not, Raylan still had some of his manners. Despite Dorian's reassurance, Raylan found himself reaching up to rub at his forehead just to make sure.

"Mathis likes us without weapons. Without footing, without confidence in even the cycle of the day or the seasons. I hate this fuckin' place."

As though to respond, another building crashed into ruin as the fires ate at it and Raylan couldn't stop glancing its way.

"You should go help them. Whoever is left. I'll... be fine." Well, that was very largely debatable, but Raylan could put up a half decent front.

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072-078 » pages of possible futures

Rolled a 14 on balance check

Just barely avoided bitting it... he better roll higher on his dodge

Only a 15, poor man, but at least he's not deep fried!

Dorian's quite happy he didn't make a Raylan Fritter!

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