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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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Something about Raylan stilled, jaw working with a tight swallow, eyes scanning out the window again like the mention of the sniper would manifest his figure against the light of the fire that was still roaring.

And Raylan was here. Here, instead of tearing up the town looking for him.

"He went out for milk. He'll be back soon," he replied like the lying liar who lies.

That gets her to look up at him, raising a skeptical, unimpressed eyebrow as she does. Seriously, Raylan?

He glanced over for a half second before sliding his eyes back out the window. It seemed he was not willing to admit his failing to her under threat of eyebrow.

"Are you injured? Any blood?"

Callisto stares at him. Stares at the window - the dark, ominous, gaping window. Stares at the glass in her hand. Just throw it, she thinks. Throw it right at his head.

"Why?"

"Because I don't know how many people survived this so the ones that have need to stay that way," he answered, tone the same soft statement of fact it had been.

"Because we will need the help counting and burying the dead." Raylan wanted to hold onto hope that Tim wasn't going to be one of them but the later it got, the more his stomach knotted around that fact. "There's always going to be the dead," he whispered, mostly to himself.

Here she starts to lose the thread of his English a bit, though the repetition helps: dead, dead, dead. She coughs - hacks, really - which is something of an answer in and of itself; she may not have been badly injured, but she'd definitely inhaled some smoke.

"Tim is dead," she says, a challenge more than a question.

Those coughs got him to look over, eyes sharp again with a worry that quick to try to assess how bad that cough was.

It was like he'd been lined up to be punched and now that he'd made eye contact, now that a challenge had been issued, he knew better than to break it.

"Maybe. Maybe he's out there helpin' someone else out of a fire. I don't know."

The maybe gives her a grim sense of satisfaction. His insistence that Tim would be right back and his refusal to clarify had, she suspects, far more to do with trying to comfort himself than with trying to placate her, but that doesn't matter; she doesn't think much of his coping mechanisms.

"He was burned in the fire," she insists heatedly in Greek. "Like everything else. Don't lie about it, to yourself or anyone else. Accept your misery."

This is punctuated with another cough.

"Sometimes I'm real glad I don't know what you're sayin'," he replied nonplussed, thumb fiddling with the back of his horseshoe ring, ignoring the possibilities of her tone and gesturing at her a little at the cough.

Raylan Givens did not accept his misery in the same way that people did. He stuffed it in boxes and focused on what was in front of him, however often he was drawn to look back at the thing kicking the locks he fastened onto said boxes.

"You should probably take it easy, stay calm."

"I have fire," she says, tapping her chest, because she doesn't know the English words for smoke inhalation. She scratches her nails against her water glass, giving the window another uneasy glance.

"Smoke. Fire burns, smoke rises from fire. You," he said, pointing at her and then spreading a tented set of fingers over his chest to indicate her lungs. "-are sufferin' 'Smoke Inhalation'." It was punctuated with a dramatic breath, providing Callisto with the very rare image of Raylan looking like an offended gay man.

"You'll be okay. Hell, maybe all those furious words will help clear that shit out." Did it matter if he cussed in front of her? He'd have to ask Doc on the rules around someone who didn't understand what you were saying generally.

"I am that, yes," she agrees. "And Jeff took me."

There's no sense of gratitude for being rescued here. If anything, she seems conflicted over the idea.

"He brought Dorian back too," Raylan said quietly with a nod. "Why isn't he here? Where's Athena?"

His face crumpled at the question, eyes cast down as his throat itched for moonshine that he couldn't have. He was an alcoholic, yes, but he wasn't that far gone. He'd rather suffer than take away from their medical supplies.

"I don't know," she spits. "Dead."

She has no special knowledge; no reason to actually believe this. She'd say the same about anyone who isn't in this room, right at this moment.

Raylan couldn't argue. He didn't know. He couldn't hold up a strawman of hope that was too quick to catch it's own fire.

"We'll look, come dawn. Morning Sun. Maybe all this shit will be over with. Let us take stock of who is not dead." He could deal with his feelings after that. After he knew what and who they'd been left with.

"We'll find Tim too. No matter what happens."

"I don't care," she snits. Because obviously, this is exactly what you do when you don't care; you ask endlessly after someone's whereabouts.

It was Raylan's turn to look over at her, eyebrows lifted in a sarcastic, disbelieving questioning. 'Is that so', it seemed to say.

"You snarl a lot for someone who doesn't care."

She picks up on his facial expression more than she does his words, and she slams her water glass down onto the table in response, sloshing water up and over the rim.

"What is it, huh? Can't admit you like anyone? Think it will make you soft like a child again?" He shrugged with his face and looked back out the window. "Suppose that will work for you until it doesn't. You're still young. Got a lotta time, a lotta suns ahead of you."

They weren't going to stop caring about her well being though, no matter how mad she got about it.

"I care about my family," she insists poisonously, spitting out the words. "My dead family. And they're the only ones I'll ever give my heart to. They're the only ones that deserve it."

Raylan's head lowered a little at the words. The venom he could ignore, now that he was fairly sure he'd identified it's real source. After a long second, he looked over at her sidelong.

"I'm not gonna make you argue that." That seemed cruel somehow. "But you ain't gonna make me believe you don't care about if Tim's alive or dead. Here, he is my family. I care."

It wasn't the first time he'd said it out loud, but it was the first time he'd said it out loud to her. To someone who didn't know, who hadn't figured it out. If that was something she would even understand. It didn't matter, he wasn't making any sweeping declarations.

"Yes, you. Not I. He's your family; he's not my family."

She wrinkles her nose, glowering, as if she's offended by the very idea.

"Yet you ask about him."

He wasn't going to ask the question out on it's face; he knew too well what it was like to drastically adjust and overly monitor himself to stop something from slipping out. It was it's own form of hell.

The fury bubbles up, sharp and sudden, and she's reaching for the glass again - hurling it, this time, directly at Raylan's head.

Thank god he was an abused child, a reactive divorcee - it granted him the skill and sense enough to lean to one side, narrowly dodging the glass. Raylan's eyes hardened, jaw tightening with a familiar flare of anger.

Fuck it.

"You care. You care if Tim is alive or dead. You care if he got eaten by the same fire that took your Mama and sister."

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DW ate this notif :v

ugh, DW 8(

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