072-078 » pages of possible futures

[villagemod]

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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Comments

[thering]

Well they do spend a lot of time on their knees, so. They're finding something even if it wasn't God.

If there's been looking and touching, it's considered sold, isn't it? Although, Doc was sold on this long before any touching got involved. He breathes out a long sigh and settles back down in bed, folding an arm under his head, tugging the sheets up to cover everything from the waist down.

"Size i'n't everything, Raylan," he teases quietly, though this is no joking matter. Nor does he want to belittle the storm that's brewing in Raylan's mind. It is no small matter to Doc, either. This is long past some three night stand where they've outstayed each other's welcome. He could have serially warmed a different bed every night, and he can't imagine anyone he'd be willing to ask would turn him away, but he chooses to roost only in particular nests, with an alarming sort of frequency that might suggest more than just a passing fling, a familiarity or routine he finds comfortable sticking to.

He doesn't know what it is that Raylan wants to hear, exactly. What would ease his burdened mind. It's a little too late to just agree that they're gay and put Raylan back into bed, sleep through the night peacefully.

"Should I return to Purgatory and, by some holy miracle, not remember a thing about Mathias," which sounds like a far away fantasy but, considering it's happened a couple times now that he's encountered people who had been whisked off somewhere and forgotten everything about Mathias upon their return, maybe he would lose everything too. "If I could keep the one thing, I would have liked to have kept you." And if Raylan thinks that that is some small thing, then, he can be disappointed with this small thing between them. But it isn't small. Not to John Henry, anyway.

[tinstar]

There was too much softly husked prayers for them to not be finding anything at all.

Having been through it too many times to consider anyone sold - pink slips were handed out and revoked as easily as pie crusts were made and broken, Raylan didn't question their being here. It was right, whatever label they gave it in hindsight. It was good.

Despite the seriousness of it, Raylan smirked, huffing a dismissive kind of breath before taking another hit from the butt of his cigarette and flicking it out the window. The air was too nice to close it up and Raylan left it as it was and ambled back over to his side of the bed to sit back down, running a hand through his hair. There was no set structure of words he wanted to hear, no words that he was actively looking for. Only ones that brought a sense he'd rather not suffer here in the soft and ragged sanctuary they'd built.

Don't take such an easy option off the table, Doc - this bronco is not that young anymore. When he was twenty, maybe. But at his age, sleep and comfort were too rare for him to say no to and besides, he'd been married. Stuffing something down and sleeping on it was a well practiced skill at this point.

Raylan looked over his shoulder but not at Henry, rather at a spot in the middle of the bed for a long moment before laying back, inviting himself to lay back onto Henry's hip.

"Even if I am useless?" He smirked, a way to show that he wasn't jabbing, no matter how the words had cut anyway. "Maybe we'll get lucky. Maybe we'll get to keep the memory of each other if we can't get nothin' else. All good things come to an end at some point. I'll deal with the cards dealt once they are and be grateful they aren't worse."

He could go on and on but he doubted either of them would take the listing of Doc's good qualities very well. They were already sappy enough.

"I still don't regret any of my choices here."

[thering]

"I suppose you think that adds to the charm." The way Doc says it, deadpan and bone dry, he doesn't seem to think so. But he might just quietly find the 'uselessness' a little endearing. And honestly, they both know that Doc wouldn't trust Raylan with half the things he does trust him to do if he really thought the Marshal was good for nothing.

He's not exactly lying in Henry's lap watching the stars or anything, but it feels nostalgic. Like the good old days, with a very different man exploiting his weakness for Marshals. Or, not very different, as the case may be. He rests a warm, heavy hand on the top of Raylan's head, brushing his thumb over the soft tufts of hair.

Nudging his thigh a little closer, he tries to get Raylan to lie a little more in his lap. He doesn't wish to think about endings, in the moment. And this is a nice moment. One worth remembering.

"If I called you the gayest man alive, would you try and get some sleep?" Doc ribs quietly, carding his fingers through Raylan's hair with a soft little 'hm'.

[tinstar]

He didn't think that, point in fact. But he also didn't think he was useless; He had one thing he was good at. The Job. The Job that wasn't here. The guns that weren't here, the targets that weren't here. Maybe he was useless every once and a while, without those things, but if he was incompetent, it wouldn't be him standing next to Doc on the social hierarchy of people who kept the house together.

At the lift of Henry's leg, Raylan shifted up a little, shoulders more tucked against Henry's lean hip as he turned hazel eyes up to meet blue, softened by the hand on his head and the strokes that came with them.

No, this didn't need defining, not if he got to keep it as a consequence of it.

Raylan's face collapsed into a soft laugh at the ribbing question, face turning back to center at the ceiling for a half second as he got it out of his system before he was looking back up at that push-broom of a mustache.

"Well there's no need go to those extremes," he replied, voice still full of the laugh that was still eeping out of his chest. "I'm not gonna be dancing in any Pride parades or anything. Few more minutes of your fingers in my hair, I might fall asleep on your hip and then what?"

[thering]

Then they can both be the gayest men alive, obviously.

"Then I'd keep on doin' this. And it'll go real quiet. Just the sound of you breathing, like how the world sounds at the crack of dawn." Yes, he's watched Raylan sleep before, on numerous occasions. Tries not to move in case he wakes the grumpy old cat. "And we'd be safe. Not have to worry 'bout nothing. Until you wake up and give me some problems," he teases. Usually it's until Malcolm wakes the whole street up. Raylan isn't the only or even the main source of his problems. Still, if Doc wanted that problem-free lifestyle, he wouldn't be here.

He continues carding his fingers through Raylan's hair and petting him, with a kind of gentleness that cowboys aren't known to be capable of, fingertips occasionally brushing along the sensitive shell of Raylan's ear.

"I don't mind, by the way. Your problems." This ain't Doc complaining about Raylan's problems right now. In fact, if it weren't for the relationship woes, he quite likes said problems. Must have developed a masochistic streak down in the well, soaking up all these problems like a sponge, dealing with them like he's trying to make the best out of a shitty hand.

"You're taking some of mine on, anyway." Only fair that they share.

[tinstar]

So long as no one else asked them about it. Those were clearly The Rules™.

Humming contentedly behind a pleased little smile like a cat caught in the cream at the fingers in his hair and the way being so close to Henry's chest deepened the sweet, husky drawl, he turned his face into the warmth of Henry's stomach, off hand turning up to rub his fingers up and down Henry's calf before wrapping a lazy, protective hand around his ankle. He could stay here for quite a lot longer than they had without a single argument.

Safe was a hard thing to feel in Mathis and here was the only place he managed it in a full and complete kind of way. He felt safe to talk to Malcolm, but with both Malcolm and Tim, there was always a chance of a fight or a nightmare or a hallucination creeping around the edges. Raylan didn't blame them for those things, he wanted to help, but if he was asking for honesty, he couldn't stop at the line that started this whole conversation.

"My problems have been carefully curated over many many years." Only half a joke; he knew he was a handful. "And your problems aren't so heavy that I can't help carry some of 'em. Not enough good guys left, anyway. An' you are, you know. Onna the good guys."

Raylan cracked his eyes open to peer up.

"Out here tolerating my snores and drool so early in the mornin'. Bein' far too good a pillow than I expected... I hope I'm not the thing wakin' you up that early either." He was sated, comfortable, humming every once and a while with those rough fingers over the shell of his ear and could one hundred percent go to sleep on the gunslinger right there.

[thering]

Doc isn't without his own middle-of-the-night quirks either but thankfully, so far, he's managed to keep them at bay, enough for Raylan to just have this safe harbour from the horrors that await outside the door. He tries his best to keep everything compartmentalised, be that available avenue for anyone and everyone to approach, but he can't help the occasional anomaly that bubbles up and spills over.

Not that this is some anomaly. Far from it. If he wants this to last forever, it can't be anything but a normal from a fantasy realm he can't hope to maintain.

"Tch." Carefully curated his ass. "Not sure I trust your definition of 'a good guy'." Raylan's just lucky that he's easy to tolerate. It's usually Malcolm who wakes him earlier than he would have normally risen, so Raylan doesn't have to worry about that.

His hand stays, finding soft tufts of fine hair to brush over - it feels different than the last time he grabbed, yanked, bit into that skin, bruised that hip, arched his back, muffled moans swallowed by the pillow muscle memory remembers, but not really more prickly than before - trying to gently coax the worries out of that head. The hat's gone for now, there's nowhere left to stuff those thoughts. Might as well let them out.

"Good night, Raylan." He'll tuck the Marshal in properly a little later, once he's all but drifted off to sleep.

[tinstar]

Henry muttered and twisted in his sleep, gripping at things that were long gone more often than not. It wasn't often that Raylan woke up in the night enough to watch the gunslinger sleep, but when he started out of one of his own nightmares, he found a reassuring peace in it. It gave him time to think and openly admire the soft features sleep gave them all. He supposed it was only fair then.

"You oughta," he muttered with a deep breath of Henry's clean, musky scent. Raylan knew bad men. Henry wasn't one of them, otherwise there was no way in hell he'd be curled up on the man like they were laying out in a field or something, secure as a lamb next to a lion without his gun. The fingers in his hair, the steady rhythm of breathing underneath him reassured him that it was fine to drift off here and so he did, sighing out his own rough murmur of "G'night Henry."

He figured he might be woken up in a bit so that Henry could shift and get comfortable for the night, which he would do when nudged, but if any extra words slipped out as he sunk back into their warmth, it wasn't his fault.