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apocalypsehowcomm2022-05-16 08:09 am
- !event,
- !finale,
- !npc,
- bucky barnes (mcu),
- cornelius hickey (the terror),
- cortana (halo),
- edalyn clawthorne (owl house),
- hunter (owl house),
- kate cordello (original),
- katrina (siren),
- manji (blade of the immortal),
- zz_addison montgomery (grey's anatomy),
- zz_ade bennett (the wess'har wars),
- zz_ainsley whitly (prodigal son),
- zz_andrew jaeger (original),
- zz_beauregard lionett (critical role),
- zz_bruno madrigal (encanto),
- zz_callisto (xena: warrior princess),
- zz_donna noble (doctor who),
- zz_garner cinderbrooke (original),
- zz_george milton (of mice and men),
- zz_jeff calhoun (original),
- zz_john carter (er),
- zz_jonathan sims (tma),
- zz_luka kovač (er),
- zz_malcolm bright (prodigal son),
- zz_misty quigley (yellowjackets),
- zz_neal caffrey (white collar),
- zz_nick valentine (fallout),
- zz_orpheus (hadestown),
- zz_rye kalibash (original),
- zz_tim drake (dc comics)
Event - Appalachia: Into the Pines
Footage plays on the television as a new story comes on, showing a series of sweeping vistas, intercut with clips of wolves that have clearly been filmed at some local wildlife sanctuary. "As far as anyone knows it, the last wolf to ever freely roam the Allegheny Mountains was slain in West Virginia in 1897. Daniel Stoffer Hamrick saw to the beast's passing, and the woods in our part of the world have gone quieter ever since. Appalachia does not forget its history, though. It buries it beneath coal and flyash, debts and white powder and pills. And the blood of people taken before their time, by the mines, by the mountain, by things we don't have names for, just hurt. But Appalachia does not forget.
"This is Cindy Parsons with Channel 5, Wolf News." Footage cuts to a newscaster standing outside a gated apartment complex with FYRE's logo emblazoned on it. "As we know, our beloved Wolf Pen is home to one of the biggest FYRE worker housing complexes in Wyoming County. It is a monument to the history of our town, and this week, we'll be on the lookout for visitors from all over the country, coming to see the grand re-opening of the historic Bluestone Mine as a museum."
Footage cuts to a nondescript businessman, identified by the news footage as Carl Watts, CEO of FYRE. He's smiling blandly as he stands at a podium and gestures to the entrance of the mining tunnel behind him. "The Wolf Pen community has been a partner to us for decades now, and we knew it was finally time to give something back to all y’all. We'll have our soft opening on Monday with a full Rumble Down Under party in the old mines scheduled for June 15th. We'll have a live bluegrass concert and anticipate a huge influx of tourists to the area to help out our neighbors itching for a few more pocketbooks to tend to." A wink.
The footage returns to Cindy. "FYRE has stated that this new museum will provide an educational tool and tourist attraction for those wanting to learn about West Virginia, Wolf Pen, and the hard-working men and women who have made this beautiful part of our nation their home. Time will tell. Time is always telling when it comes to the promises of people who have used our land and our bodies to line their pocketbooks. They fill our blood and our lungs with black tar and-"
Cindy cuts out and is replaced by in-studio anchors. "Thank you, Cindy!" a blonde woman says, smile just a little strained. "I think we're all looking forward to seeing the big opening by FYRE on Sunday and that rocking good party next month. It should be a gneiss one! Now to Tim with the weather. Tim?"
NPC/Mod Setting Interactions
This section is for players wishing to take a more active role in uncovering the mysteries in this plot, and directly interacting with key NPCs. We would ask, for the sake of plot progression, that those tagging in prioritize these threads to the extent practicable. Mods will do so, as well.
We would request all tag-ins by 5/25 to allow for sufficient time to thread things out. Players may tag in just their character or may thread in pairs with mod responses. You may tag an individual character into a maximum of two (2) different mod response options. This does include interactions with the field agents; however, those interactions may naturally spin off into an investigation in the mines or in town and will still only count for one of your two tag-in opportunities.
(cw: none)
The Howling Moon Inn features two conference rooms. One where ADI has set up their tech, and another where they've taken to providing a general gathering space for their personnel. While Nia Lehrer, Warden of ADI, is in town, she's doing a lot of running around, negotiating for access to things at a higher level and presenting a seemingly disarming front to any FYRE personnel. This leaves two field agents in charge: Austin Yeats and Rae Hargrave.
Each morning, the pair can be found in the gathering space, ready to discuss what's going on, provide any additional intel people have gathered, and generally direct those who need some direction.
((OOC: Please specify if you would like to talk to Austin or Rae in the subject line of your TL. Austin will be geared toward guidance on the active Keppler Mine and anything related to work in town, be it PR, investigations, or logistics. Rae will be geared toward guidance on the museum Bluestone Mine. You DO NOT need to interact with this prompt or receive an 'official assignment' to interact with the others. However, interactions here may lead directly into investigations.))
(cw: implied workplace retaliation against employees)
The Keppler Mine is one of the largest coal mines left in North America, and one of the vanishingly few underground mines still in existence. Operations have not changed to the standard mountain-top removal mining method for more than 70 years, even as the coal supplies have dwindled and they've had to dug ever deeper into the mountains. Somehow, ADI has arranged for its personnel to act as inspectors. You'll receive a fancy card and everything needed to indicate that you're a designated representative of the Occupational Health and Safety Administration (OSHA). All of this may be, strictly speaking, illegal, but maybe not? ADI has a lot of connections.
Depending on the day that someone heads over to the mine, they might encounter:
1. A nervous young man who greets them with a, "Hey, there, inspector! I'm Jimmy. Uh, Jimmy Bryant. We got- well, I've got a great showing for safety today. To you. I'm showing you safe… yeah! Safety."
2. A grizzled older man who narrows his eyes and looks incredibly displeased by their existence. "Who called you people? Alan Wakes? Asshole's been complaining about his shift hours for a month. Nothing in this mine needs you feds poking around." The name plastered on the front of his helmet is simply BOSS.
3. No guide, and simply an open mining tunnel to wander down if they should be so inclined to do that. There's a strange ringing coming from one particular tunnel.
((OOC: Please note, this investigation lead has the most potential physical danger for investigators. Characters may not necessarily be injured, depending on player choices, but there's a much higher chance of it compared to other lead options. Mod responses will specifically telegraph if a player is about to put their character in significant physical danger to allow them the chance to opt out of that with alternate decisions.))
(cw: none)
For the Bluestone Mine, no deception is needed in terms of documentation. Everyone is just tourists coming to explore this new place. There are regular tours through the mines, or you can do something self-guided. Points of interest through the mine include:
1. The tourist shop where a bored young woman with a name tag that reads Audrey is sitting at the sales counter doing what is obviously schoolwork. Those who come close enough will see it's a book on advanced calculus. She seems to take no interest in whether or not customers might be running off with free souvenirs.
2. The central line, which is a rail line through the heart of the complex. There is a cart that runs up and down the tracks, moving people to and from the distant sides of the mine. It's being operated by a young man with a name tag indicating that he is Todd. He offers a big, goofy grin to anyone stepping up for a ride.
3. The coal patch, which is a series of tunnels with coal deposits visible in the walls. There are signs scattered here and there with 'interesting tidbits' about the history of the Bluestone Mine. There are some tunnels that are roped off, but is anyone really keeping an eye on those?
(cw: none)
The downtown area of Wolf Pen has a few points and people of interest that ADI would like people go to and meet. Most prominent among them are:
1. Mayor Greg Campbell is a burly man with a beard who can be found drinking at one of the bars as often as he's at his office. He'll offer a polite smile if he's approached, but it's tight and doesn't reach his eyes. "Visitors aplenty these days. What do you think of our town, then, stranger?"
2. Sheriff Ron Porter is a stocky man who eyes visitors with a particularly suspicious expression whenever he's out on his beat. If you seem to be lingering somewhere or he just doesn't like the look of you, you might find yourself accosted either on foot or with him rolling his cruiser up beside you and peering out the window. "Something I can help you with?"
3. Intrepid newscaster Cindy Parsons is out and about with a cameraman, stopping visitors in the streets and questioning them. "Do you have a moment, please? Channel 5, Wolf News. We're trying to understand the folks coming to visit for the new mine opening a little more." There's a glint in their eye that says that's not actually what this is about.
4. Plessy's Holler stands out as a place of potential suspicion. ADI will warn anyone heading back there of the local stories about some sort of massacre. They'd like to know what actually happened and if there's anyone still in that area. It's off the beaten path up a winding road. You'll see trash and some tents as you start to approach, and an old hound dog who growls from the distance.
Bluestone Mine - 3
Surely he can take a little look and see...?]
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In Town - 3
Uh.
[He tries to remember what he's supposed to do in situations like these, but he's a doctor, dammit, and not a TV personality. What did ADI say to do if stuff like this happens? Did they even say anything? He can't remember--his ice cream is melting, he takes a quick-saving lick before it spills all over his hands.]
Um. Sure?
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Austin Yeats (1 of 2 Guided Mod Threads for George)
This, though, is something he feels particularly suited for, more than anybody else he has met back at the compound, so up he steps, looking like somebody right off the street in beat up, not exactly clean clothes and not smelling too fresh, either. He has a face full of a couple of days old whiskers and his bindle over his shoulder.]
Hey.
[He doesn't quite look him in the eyes at first, not until he settles on everything he wants to propose. When he finally does, it's steady enough.]
Guess the time a' takin' it a little easy's over. I want to head out to wherever you might'a heard the drifters make camp. Folks on the street always see things a lot a' people don't but get cagey around anybody too polished. I oughta know. Jes' point me in the right direction, and I'll do the rest.
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Keppler Mine - 1
"Oi, there's no need to be so nervous. We're on the same side, after all."
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In Town - Cindy
Which is why she doesn't mind one bit when she's approached. Ainsley isn't phased by the bombard of mic and questions, practicaly unflappable in the face of all of it. "Oh, you know. Tourism at its finest, I guess," she smiles in a disarming way, a dismissive hand waved like it's no big deal.
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Bluestone Mine 1
At least he isn't in his full uniform, though he still has his gloves on and one scarred red cardinal perched on his shoulder, so his idea of blending in isn't all that blend-y.
He approaches the counter, all ready to start asking questions.]
Hello there, shopkeep! [That's what humans call proprietors of wares, right??] Have you -
[Aaand then he notices the textbook.]
Huh, is that infinitesimal calculus?
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In Town - 4
The long walk serves to warm her up for whatever might be coming. She expects a desolate place, the air heavy with the sorrow of what (allegedly) happened here. So, the tents and trash immediately draw her attention. Trash strewn about, even just a few stray things, means there are humans here.
Katrina oh my god.Undeterred, she keeps walking at a steady pace, almost leisurely, though her posture means business, and while she's not scowling, she certainly looks like someone not to be messed with.It's the dog growling that makes her stop once, but only once she's able to lock eyes with it. She bares her teeth, hissing - it's more catlike than not. She will absolutely fight it if it comes to that. ]
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Rae Hargrave
Wrapped glaive on his back, but otherwise dressed in what 'modern' clothing he'd found for himself, Garner fiddles with the hair tie in his hand as he waits for a chance to catch the woman's attention.]
If I might have a moment of your time, madam. I have some questions...and concerns. Particularly about the mine and the man who owns it.
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Keppler Mine - 3
But he's here now and there is that sound and he's unsure.
Granted, his knowledge of mines and mining are severely limited but that doesn't sound like it's supposed to be there. And anything that's not supposed to be somewhere has been nothing but trouble. What if someone's in trouble? It wouldn't be the first time. In fact, everything that wasn't supposed to be somewhere had turned out to harm people sooner or later.
Carter looks around if there's anyone he can ask or notify, then tentatively moves towards the sound.
He's just gonna check real quick. Stay out of sight. Gather intel. And then get out. He even grabs a chipped off rock to scratch markings into the wall so he can find his way back. Because he's not stupid.]
That's so stupid. I'm so stupid.
[Mumble mumble. Curiosity. The cat. Helper syndrome. Ugh. He should check if this town has AA meetings.]
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In town - 1
[Carter nurses a soda, giving the mayor a likewise polite but distant smile.]
People seem really proud of their work. It's refreshing.
[While he mirrors the mayor's attitude, the assessment is genuine and he gives an amiable shrug.]
I'm from the big city, people can be... cynical.
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Rae Hargrave
[It's an obvious first step to see what info's already been gathered, before he has to go dig into things himself.]
What's the skinny so far on that Bluestone Mine? Something tells me we're not planning a group field trip out there.
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Austin Yeats
Might as well see about what other assignments they might have.
"Hey. Austin, right?"
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Bluestone Mine - Todd
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Field Agents - Austin
Eda is still distinctly not fond of working for anyone, much as it might be the best choice she has right now, and it probably shows most if not all of the time. On the other hand she’s bored, and she does want to investigate all this. She could just stick to exploring, and she may well do that, but she might as well have somewhere to start today.]
Hey, boss kid. [She might remember the man’s name if she tried, but she doesn’t seem all that inclined to bother.] Got anything interesting for me to do?
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Keppler Mine - 1
"Um," he says, blinking owlishly. Orpheus has the look of someone who hasn't slept properly in well over a month, disheveled and hollow-eyed, and the other young man's obvious nerves prove infectious as he reaches up to fidget with his bandana. "That's good? It's good to meet you, Jimmy. I'm Orpheus."
He tries his best to smile, and succeeds in looking at least a little less gloomy. The name is strange to him, but so are most of the names he's heard since arriving here. Chalk it up to cultural differences.
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Austin
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In Town - 2 - now in the right place??
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Rae Hargrave (1 of 2)
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In Town - Cindy (2 of 2)
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keppler mines, option 1!
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in town, option 2 (ron porter)
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in town, option 3 (cindy parsons)
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Austin Yeats - 1 of 2 for Jaeger
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In Town 4: Plessy's Hollar (Prompt 2 of 2)
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In Town - 1
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Austin Yeats
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Hacking, beep boop.
/dialup sounds
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In Town - 1
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Austin YYeats
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TAG-INS CLOSED
no subject
This section is for general RP prompts. While character actions in these prompts may have an overall impact on the event, mods will not be responding directly to any actions taken here.
(cw: mention of drugs/alcohol and altered perceptions)
The town of Wolf Pen has been bracing for visitors for some time now, assured by FYRE that their mining museum would be a hit throughout the state and several states over. ADI has managed to procure nearly an entire downtown hotel for their personnel, the Howling Moon Innl. There's a swimming pool and some other basic amenities. People are assigned to rooms based on when they're checking in. Did you get stuck with someone you despise because you happened to be behind them in line? How very unfortunate. Try to make peace. Every room has a pair of twin beds and a bathroom with the standard appliances one might expect. Just try not to wreck the place and get everyone in trouble.
All of the ADI natives are just trying to get their bearings and set up their base within the hotel's limited number of conference rooms. Perhaps you're helping to sort a medical station or get the tech they've brought along up and running, or perhaps you're here to help with feeding people, arranging meals and the like. There's general administrative work to keep those who need it busy and focused for a day or two before ADI launches its full investigation.
Just outside is downtown Wolf Pen. Of course, after being in Gloucester, it might be less impressive than some might think of as the heart of a city. Wolf Pen is a small community, spread into winding backroads and hollers. Downtown just happens to be where there's more than one bar, a gas station, and a church, along with the government buildings, a grocery store, and the local news station.
Those going exploring will find easy access to live music in the bars along with a mix of cheerful greetings and more suspicious looks from the locals. If too many outsiders pile into a bar, some might begin to notice the locals trailing out, headed for greener–and less foreign–pastures. The bartenders and various owners of the establishments seem to welcome the new business, though, and some places are even offering some impromptu karaoke. Get up there and belt your best!
For those less inclined toward a rowdy nightlife, the hiking trails around Wolf Pen offer contemplative quiet and pathways up to steeper slopes or easy walks out to Silver Lake. Some might even hear whispers from some of the friendlier locals about Sinner's Point, up Old Mountain Road. It's said to be an excellent spot for birdwatching… and watching for other things, too, if the local stories of 'White Things' are to be believed. The locals claim that great white beasts can sometimes be seen roaming in the forests below, but the number of discarded beer bottles, joints, and drug paraphernalia in the area might lead one to believe said locals might have been seeing all sorts of things that weren't really there.
(cw: supernatural compulsion; manipulation; loss of autonomy; humiliation)
It's said that long ago a witch lived upon the Woven Isle in the middle of Silver Lake. She built her cottage there and she wove the trees together in strange and sinister shapes for her protection. The people in Wolf Pen left her to it, knowing she could help them in times when doctors might not be so plentiful or keen to come out. And that crossing a witch would spell trouble for everyone in town. Unfortunately, children are not the angels that so many parents claim them to be. It's said that a pack of them took a canoe and axes to the Woven Isle and started chopping down her trees while she was away.
When she returned, half her trees were little more than stumps. In retaliation, she placed a curse upon the Woven Isle, that anyone who stepped foot on it would be cut down to size, as her trees had been.
The story is passed easily from the townsfolk to the visitors, a warning and a challenge to go and see the little kudzu-infested island out on Silver Lake. While there aren't any canoes available, it's a short wade over to the island that's only about 30 feet out from shore across the relatively shallow east side.
Those venturing to the island by themselves will find… a small island with the remains of what might have been some sort of cabin, and kudzu-covered trees. Some of the trees do seem to be woven together, likely from when they were saplings. They'd probably make an interesting spot for photos.
It's only when more than one person heads over to the Woven Isle that something changes. They might wander for a bit, the sensation that something is there with them growing as the kudzu stretches out toward them, brushes them… grabs them. It happens in a flash. One moment, people will be wandering freely, and the next, woody vines wrap themselves around wrists and ankles, proving impossibly strong and fire resistant as they lift their victims to their tip-toes.
Those attempting to free themselves will not have long to do so before their whole body locks up, rigid, then… moving without their input. They will find that that are set down so that they can move about, but it is not of their own volition. Something has hijacked their body. And then they speak because it has hijacked their voice as well.
People caught by the kudzu will find themselves acting out strange, unpleasant, or actively humiliating scenes with their fellow victim, forced to say and do things they might not otherwise. Those trapped might quickly discover there's some potential relief to be had, though… if they try to will the other person into doing something humiliating or awful, the control over their own bodies will waver and begin to fade. If neither victim tries to escape, they will be let go after their 'scene' is complete, and the Woven Isle will seem to be just an ordinary little island covered in kudzu. Nothing to see here!
George Milton | Of Mice and Men (Open with 2 closed prompts)
Country Roads (OTA)
1. Howling Moon Inn
He looks lost in his own thoughts until somebody gets close enough to speak to and makes enough noise to catch his attention. "Mornin'." It's quiet and laconic, his nod a simple courtesy. He rakes an assessing look. Unless he already knows or likes you, it's clear he won't be the one making the small talk but maybe isn't closed off to the possibility of it.
If someone is already there, he'll say, "Hope you're havin' more luck in all of this than I am so far."
If someone comes after him, he'll crack an eye open and lift a tired, half hearted wave with a, "How's it goin' on your end out there?"
2. Local Bar
"Naw, sorry, savin' this for my friend."
Puppet Show (Closed)
1. Donna CW: Forced talk of mercy killing a mentally disabled man, forced cruel judgment/bullying/criticism, emotional anguish, shame, helplessness, guilt
[It had started out straightforward enough, both of them believing that any sort of local legend like the witch bore checking out. The wade out to the island wasn't even all that bad, the water never deep enough to seem dangerous or threatening.
What isn't straightforward at all is the way the vines twist around their limbs with tight cruelty and frightening speed, the way they pull both of them apart from helping each other, their shouts cut off by gags of broad, choking leaves.
Once his limbs lock up, George feels the first genuine twinges of panic setting in. He has seen folks die like this, lockjaw, an ugly death, but more than that it's the helplessness, seeing his fear echoed in Donna's eyes and being unable to help either of them.
He should know better than to be relieved when the vines clear away from his mouth, that it can't be for any good reason. The words that spill out the moment they can have him wanting to bite off his own tongue. He probably would if his mouth were still his own.]
I killed the only real friend I ever had.
[His chest heaves, breathing fast and shallow. This must be how a snared rabbit feels when it hears the footsteps of the hunter coming to finish it off. No, worse, because no rabbit ever knew what wrong it had done in the world or doubted itself as hard as he has since the moment he pulled the trigger.]
2. Malcolm CW: Forced bullying, trauma from being bullied, PTSD, shame, guilt, loss of control
He'd sworn to himself escaping the island late in the afternoon with Donna ahead of him that nothing could ever make him set foot back in that place. He has managed to wipe the tears from his eyes but can't do a thing about the redness and swelling.
As it turns out, there is one thing. He insists Donna heads back, that he'll catch up as soon as he can. He has to stop Malcolm from making a terrible mistake. He splashes toward him in long, lunging strides, waving both arms and shouting.
"Malcolm! Malcolm, hold up! You don't wanna go there. Ain't nothing to see." Thing is, he might be a decent enough liar when he has to be, but there's no hiding the evidence of his face that maybe tells a more complicated story.
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early morning, poolside
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howling moon inn
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local bar | barside
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► howling moon inn
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Dancing
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late night common room
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Howling Moon Inn
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Cornelius Hickey | AMC's The Terror | open!
Home Sweet Hotel Room
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hotel :v
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Hotel
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Manji | Blade of the Immortal | OTA
Hotel | Eda
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Luka Kovač | ER - OTA unless marked otherwise
puppet show
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Night on the Town
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Medical Station
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► hotel
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Night on the town
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Medical station
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Ade Bennett | The Wess'har Wars | OTA
Hotel Lobby ~ Late Night
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STABS FLAG INTO THE TRAUMA THREAD
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hiking trails
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Katrina | Siren | closed starters upon request
puppet show | for Rye Kalibash @jup1t3r
cw: memory of suffocation >.>
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John Carter | ER
i. and they were roommates
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ii. doctor doctor i have a terrible cough
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A
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Cortana | Halo | OTA
b
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no subject
This section is for general RP prompts. While character actions in these prompts may have an overall impact on the event, mods will not be responding directly to any actions taken here.
(cw: refuse/filth; hallucination)
Of all the places to explore, the town dump might not be the most intuitive. But ADI is here for a reason after all. The things that people discard tell a lot about them and some people might take it on themselves to investigate the town even before ADI really kicks off the investigations. The town, and the people who live (and work) around there.
Access to the dump isn’t particularly monitored or controlled, which means that walking right up and around isn’t a problem.. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure and while outsiders taking a walk around the dump site might raise a few local eyebrows, there’s no one actually stopping them. People are free to walk around and poke around at…well, trash. Though areas of it will likely be completely unappealing - unless someone really wants to go wading through trash - there’s a section that’s portioned off for household goods that might be of interest.
Unfortunately, it really does just look like ordinary, every day trash. Nothing incriminating or strange– Wait.
That’s yours. There at the edge of a pile, there sitting on top of a beat up dryer. It could be a lamp, a precious book, a childhood toy. Somehow, an object from home has found its way here to this dump. Whatever the object, it’s several feet away. When picked up and examined, it seems absolutely real, unarguably something the person in question has owned, down to marks they might have remembered making or other identifying features.
And…there, just a little ways off, doesn’t that look familiar too? Don’t you want that back? You should get that back.
People might not even realize, as they’re walking from one object to another - there’s always another, just ahead - that they’re following a trail that leads deeper and deeper into the center of the dump, wading through trash. Because it isn’t trash at all, is it? Not when it holds such precious things.
As characters reach the center of the dump - arms full of objects they’ve left behind - they will find that with each step, the trash reaches further and further up their body. Of course, they’re in the thick of things now, chasing the next item. But eventually, when they find it, when they reach out….something pulls back. And they’re falling down - or is it being sucked in? It might just feel like that last object is being tugged from their grasp and they can’t let it go. Either way, the trash consumes them, pulls them, covers them and cradles them. But at least they have their things and that’s all that really matters.
Or is it? There might be a moment or two for second thoughts, which is a good thing considering that someone could suffocate and die under all that trash. But trying to climb back out seems….impossible. Maybe a friend could help, if only someone is nearby to hear a struggle. If only you can scream loud enough, ignore the trash that tries to silence you.
The only other way out is to release the objects in your arms back into the junkpile, to let go of the things you cling to, the comfort of familiarity. If anyone does this, they’ll find it much easier to find a way out of the refuse.
If anyone IS rescued with their items still in their arms, they won’t get far with them. As soon as they clear the edge of the junkyard, between one blink and the next they’ll find that all they’re carrying is old trash, dirty and moth-bitten and unappealing.
(cw: altered mental states; animal attacks and mauling; ambiguous fate of a lost dog; becoming lost in seemingly eternal night)
The woods outside of town are perhaps a more natural starting point for investigations. Wild places are, after all, where wild stories start. Technically speaking, the undeveloped forests around Wolf Pen are a mix of FYRE property, government land, and land owned by private individuals, and technically ADI employees are required by law to respect any posted No Trespassing signs. Officially, ADI is restricting its investigations outside of town to public land and properties where they've obtained permission for their presence, but unofficially the larger concern is that no one representing ADI is caught flaunting the law.
In daytime, the area seems normal enough. The biggest dangers unprepared hiker-investigators will likely face in the sunlight are sunburn, poison ivy, and this spring's ample crop of mosquitos. These woods are a wild place, alternately dim and cool where trees block the sunlight or choked with brush where patches of sun shine through, though one may come across the relatively clear berm of a long-gone railroad track or suddenly stumble out of the woods into a muddy field where the stumps of last year's feed corn have yet to be plowed under.
Nighttime is another story. As one goes deeper into the woods, the meager lights and sounds of Wolf Pen fade into darkness and silence, supplanted by choruses of frogs and the dim light of moon and stars filtering down through the pines. It's easy to get lost in the darkness, easy to begin to feel as though you've dropped off the face of the Earth you knew and into a more primal world.
Perhaps it's a relief when you first hear a man's voice calling and see a light in the distance. "Lulu!" he cries. "Lulu-girl, here girl!"
Call back to him and he doesn't seem to hear; he keeps calling again and again for Lulu as the light moves away, deeper into the woods. Turn back and leave him, and you just might find your way back out of the woods tonight. Follow, however, and the woods close in behind you with the man's voice and the light of his lantern (that's a lantern, not a flashlight, fire flickering behind glass rather than the electric beam of a lightbulb) always ahead of you, always out of reach. Keep after him or abandon the chase, it doesn't matter; eventually voice and light disappear into the distance.
…Did you get turned around? Did you pass that fallen tree before, or is your mind playing tricks on you? Try to turn and head back toward town, and it's impossible to say where town is. It's as though Wolf Pen has been swallowed up into the night…or perhaps more accurately, as though you have. Trails through the trees twist and turn back on themselves; there's no hint at all now of the trappings of civilization, no sound of a nearby highway to guide your way. Perhaps it would be best to simply stop where you are, to shelter as best you can and wait for morning lest you only take yourself deeper into the woods.
There will be no rest tonight, though. It's hard to say when the pale, shaggy beasts first began their hunt. Did they just come upon you, or is it just that you've only now spotted them stalking you through the trees. They come in many shapes, some on two legs, some on four, some on simply too many legs altogether. Some have horns, some have hands, some have four eyes or no eyes at all. All are huge, the size of monstrous dogs or bears. They may come singly or they may come in packs, but one way or another they come for you this night, trailing you through the woods, until–
The attack is fast and brutal. Biting, clawing, ripping, tearing; once they're upon you they attack with something beyond animalistic frenzy. The wounds they inflict are agony. This is what it feels like to fight for your life. This is what it feels like to die and be eaten, and not necessarily in that order. The White Things are relentless and they are without mercy.
And then they are, quite suddenly, gone. Wounds you knew were torn into your flesh, blood you know has been spilled–those are gone, too. You're unharmed and the forest is dead silent for long minutes before the croaking of the frogs returns. It won't be long before they're back, though, those pale shapes slipping through the undergrowth, baleful eyes upon you. This time they'll even give you a head start.
Again and again the White Things chase and attack. All sense of time is lost along with all sense of direction; the night and the forest seem as though they'll never end. It never hurts any less. They never grow slower or weaker or more tired. Finally, though, there's the sudden realization that the world has grown brighter when you weren't looking, if infinitesimally so. As the light of dawn breaks through the trees, the sounds of circling paws and hooves fade along with the shadows of night, and there is at last an end to the attacks. The sounds of the outside world filter back in; walk even a short way and you'll find yourself back where you started your hike the night before, spat out by the woods like a rejected morsel.
Misty Quigley | Yellowjackets
The most important thing is not to panic.
[Says Misty, regardless of whether her companion is panicking or not. She, at least, seems to be in decent spirits: not excited, necessarily, but calm and focused, like she very much believes she has a handle on whatever is happening right now.]
God, this is making me wish we'd brought bread crumbs or something. Okay, wait--
[She stops, squinting at her companion through the inky dark of the forest, brushing aside a leafy branch as she steps closer.]
Let's regroup! Do you have a cell phone, and can you get a signal? How are you feeling right now, mood-wise? And... hmmmm.
How freaked out are you by the idea of potentially having to spend the night out here?
[Because it's looking more and more likely, and she just wants to know what she's working with.]
[OOC: Content warnings for this character!]
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Closed to Beau and Eda
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Malcolm Bright | Prodigal Son
A new roommate. One that doesn't Know.
Malcolm stands at the foot of his twin bed, looking down at it. He drops his bag on the foot of the bed. He wonders who'll show up. He hopes it's someone he knows, at least, so explaining will be less... surprising. He doesn't think he's lucky enough that it will be Neal.
He does seek Neal out later, though, to find out who his roommate is and if he wants to go somewhere for a bit.
Out In Town - OTA
It seems like a normal sort of a town. The kind he passed through a thousand times while he was with the FBI. Malcolm can be found looking in shop windows or having soup in a diner or just walking.
He could be talked into going for a drink and some live music.
no subject
It's abundantly clear he's failed in his mission, the door swinging open to reveal... another person. Disappointing. Perhaps something that's clear as he eyes the man warily for a moment before realising he looks like an idiot cluttering up the doorway, as though he's waiting to be invited in. He most certainly isn't.
"Hello."
A courtesy extended if only because while he might be in a funk - a real grumpy one - he isn't rude for the sake of being rude. Usually he's rude because he's caught up in his own head.
"I'll go out on a limb and say you must be New Roommate. I assume you have a name?"
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out in town
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new roommates
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Out About in Town
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Hunter | The Owl House | OTA unless specified
[Alright, so Hunter hasn't had a chance to explore his new realm until now. He knows getting right into the investigation is important, but he figures he won't be able to do so to the best of his ability if he doesn't know the lay of the land first. Besides, there's something that's been bothering him, something he needs to go examine.
Once he's settled at the hotel he heads out in full uniform, Flapjack clinging to his shoulder. This is very important, very official work he has to do, though he doesn't make it very far from the hotel. The reason for that is because he's finding what he's looking for very quickly, which he finds to be very lucky but in fact is not a big deal at all.
He can be found circling a perfectly average car. Not touching it, in case there is some defense mechanism he might triggered, but oh boy is he curious. He crouches in front of a tire, humming thoughtfully, his gloved fingers wiggling restlessly.]
What do you think these things run on? [He's glancing over at Flapjack, who just cheeps.] Right? They've clearly built the infrastructure to have them be the preferred form of transportation.
[Evening rolls around, and Hunter finds himself back at the hotel. Not because he's taking some downtime (this the closest he can ever get to it, he even has his mask perched on top of his head instead of over his face), but because he's still new to this realm and is in dire need of a few hours to research. Having acquired a couple of local history books from the ADI he's on his way back to his and Cortana's hotel room, fully intending to spend the rest of the night reading. Flapjack is hiding in his cloak, so he doesn't get hassled by the hotel staff for having a wild animal in the building. He spares a small glance out a window, and notices it's begun to rain.
He freezes. After a few moments of hesitation, he turns and heads outside. It shouldn't matter, it's just a silly thing that most people wouldn't care about at all, but there's a question he had asked weeks ago floating to the forefront of his mind.
Is it true that rain doesn't boil in the human realm?
And an answer, a familiar voice echoing in his head.
It is. You know, I've been there before. Did I ever tell you that?
There's a pang in Hunter's chest as he stops in front of the main entrance. He should just go back to his room and research, that's far more productive than wasting his time faffing about because of some perfectly normal human realm rain. But he can't really help himself, even if it makes him feel homesick his curiosity is overwhelming. He chews on his lower lip, hesitating, before stepping through the door outside.
Once he is Flapjack cheeps and flutters out from underneath his cloak, settling on Hunter's shoulder. He gives the bird a little encouraged glance, tucks the books under one arm so they don't get wet, and then steps out from under the covered entrance, experiencing non-boiling rain for the first time.]
[The dump isn't Hunter's first choice of locations to investigate, but he grudgingly recognizes that it could be important. It isn't monitored heavily, and he isn't familiar enough with human trash to outright dismiss it. Might as well check the place out for a bit, see what kinds of things humans throw away, and then cross it off the list. Titan, the things he does for research....
He arrives in full uniform including his mask, one tiny scarred cardinal perched on his shoulder. Surveying the mess he sighs heavily, the heads in, starting to look around. Almost immediately, something glinting in the light catches his eye. Furrowing his brow, he steps closer. It's glass, some kind of paper that's been framed - ]
Flapjack, look!
[That... can't be right. He pushes his mask up onto his head before picking up the frame, confused. It's his. His certificate of induction into the Emperor's Coven, the exact one that should be hanging over his bed back in the castle. While he knows trash can occasionally slip through portals between the realms, he would never, ever throw this out. So what's it doing out here? That question is weighing in his mind as he catches sight of something else from home, and he immediately rushes for it, not noticing the steadily growing amount of trash around him. It's only when something grabs his ankle and yanks that he realizes something is wrong, yelping in surprise. Startled, Flapjack take off from his shoulder and starts circling, cheeping frantically.]
[Okay, so being stuck in the human realm isn't great. Terrible, in fact, since Hunter knows the Day of Unity hasn't happened yet, and therefore Belos needs him back in the demon realm, and not here. That's rough, really rough.
Making this a dozen times worse is the fact that the only other witch (or demon) he's come across is the Owl Lady. A criminal, and a constant thorn in the side of the Emperor's Coven. The goreberry on top of the blood cake that is this whole mess is the bizarre insistence of Eda that something is wrong with his memories. His head is perfectly fine, of course, but she's said some unnerving things, and he really doesn't like it when he's thrown off-balance. The worst part is that he can't tell if this is some wily wild witch behaviour or just Eda being Eda.
Either way, it's clear someone needs to keep an eye on her. She's a criminal, and it's his job to deal with criminals like her, so naturally this leads to him trying to poorly stalk through a small town while using as little magic as possible. It isn't a fun time, and after an entire day of watching her, losing her, then watching her again, he's very... tired. He needs a break.
But not a break-break, of course, just a change of pace. That's why he and Flapjack find themselves heading into the woods to scope these supposed white-furred creatures. Taking care of dangerous creatures was one of his usual assignments back home, and this isn't all that different.]
[Another night, Hunter and Flapjack can be found at the edge of the woods next to the hotel. He's in full uniform, shoving a handful of Chex Mix under his mask to munch on as he surveys the trees (it's close enough to Hex Mix that he figures it's edible to witches). Mostly because despite his run-in with Eda he's still curious about the creatures out there and figures they're worth investigating.
Those things had to be related to slitherbeasts, somehow. They fit the slitherbeast profile almost to a T, even though he isn't sure those demons also exist in the human realm. Maybe one or two slipped through a portal at some point? Maybe some were banished a long time ago, like the giraffes? Who knows, but he wants to find out.
... He might also be out there because it's hard for him to get over the fact that these trees are indeed green. It's just as Belos had told him, and he's a little depressed his uncle couldn't be here to see them, too.]
No place like home
Some bird sure is making a helluva racket. He doesn't think too much of it until the view of the dump widens out in front of him as he emerges from the tree line. First...the sheer scale of the place is stunning from his limited perspective of nearly a hundred years ago. The smell hits as an almost secondary assault, and he's having second thoughts about his entire plan until he realizes the bird is acting very weird, and...
It looks like some kid out there in the trash getting dragged? By the time his bindle hits the ground, he's already running, short legs pistoning as he does his best to wade into the garbage and try not to fall.]
Hang on! I'm comin'!
[To do what, exactly? He's got a whopping unimpressive pocket knife in his back pocket. Well, nobody ever accused him of having sense in the heat of the moment. He's closing by the second, shouting encouragement the whole way.]
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Jeffrey's Hell | Eda
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jeffrey's hell
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no place like home
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Country Roads B
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country roads, A!
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For John
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jeff calhoun | oc
ii. wildcard
I (C)
"I just got back from town," he says, but he doesn't shrug his jacket off.
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I - B
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C
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B || u know i love me some delusions and hallucinations and shit
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1A!
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I (B)
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Andrew Jaeger | OTA
Country Roads
Jaeger doesn't exactly blend in with the local populace, even in spite of his efforts to dress down and keep a low profile. He's just too big and suspicious, but at least that makes him suitable for muscle. If someone is going to ask questions in a shady sort of atmosphere, then the big man is a good choice for backup- both physically imposing, and inclined to observe thoroughly in all situations. He's happy to offer his companionship for pretty much any investigation someone wishes to undertake, whether it be playing good-natured outdoors enthusiasts or something less cordial and more demanding.
Early in the day, he can be found in the hotel conference rooms, reading fliers and brochures collected from the local market and bar over a cup of black coffee. Conversations come easily, even in his rough, raspy voice, as he makes it his business to see what others are investigating and if they might need assistance. Failing that? It's just good to check in and have an idea of what people are doing. Just in case. Later in the day, he might be found at the diner or cafe or one of the handful of bars, taking an afternoon break as he plots his next move.
Eventually, Jaeger will make his own way up to Sinner's Point, with or without company, and camera in hand. Sure, maybe he's just getting in a little birdwatching, but his eyes are on the woods, on the scattered evidence of other peoples' good times, and the overall aura of the place. Is this where to start an investigation on the White Things? It certainly is.
Puppet Show CW: possible bodily harm, knives, flashbacks to torture/restraint
Wading through the river to get to the island isn't an ideal situation, but at least it makes it easy...if a bit messy. Jaeger's grateful for the warming trend in the weather when he steps out of the water onto the comparatively dry land of the little island, and while he's not happy about being wet, he'll survive.
He's pretty sure, at least. And his camera is dry, which means that he can immediately start snapping pictures of the scenery here. The stumps, the vines, the ruins.
...the vines. It's too little, too late when Jaeger tries to go for his knife, to free himself from the sudden trap, and struggling does nothing against the tough, woody overgrowth.
Like fighting steel chains, and he knows that feeling all too well.
No Place Like Home
It only makes sense to check out everything possible in town, and while the dump isn't high on the priority list, it's worth a couple of hours just to get a sense of it. Jaeger isn't really expecting anything but the dead husks of appliances and old mattresses, so it's a bit of a surprise when either he or his companion finds something after all...
"This was my daughter's." ((Or whatever they might have found!))
Jeffrey's Hell
The woods is one of the first places to check out when looking for strange and unusual phenomena, and Jaeger is familiar enough with the concept that he makes several trips to the woods outside of Wolf's Pen. While he's careful to avoid notice, particularly in the "No Trespassing" areas, he's diligent about making marks, notes, and photographs as he goes, keeping his bearings carefully and generally following the rules of polite intrusion.
Of course, he doesn't find anything notable during the day. But that's okay, that's why he's planned to go back at night and get a different impression. With a few basic emergency essentials packed, he ventures off into the pines, picking his way carefully through the undergrowth in search of a decent spot to set up watch.
That is, until the lantern-light appears, the sound of someone shouting into the darkness. Jaeger turns his attention fully toward the flicker off in the trees, then glances around at his more immediate surroundings, checking his bearings automatically with his own heavy steel flashlight in hand. His smaller penlight is tucked into his bag, just in case, but the Maglight throws a strong beam that's much better for navigating. And attracting attention, which makes him pause and flip the light off for a moment.
On one hand, they aren't supposed to be here. But on the other hand? It's a possible person to talk to about the town, one they wouldn't meet on the normal pathways. Jaeger isn't really capable of shouting, but he turns toward the light again, dark brows raised in question as he starts tentatively in that direction.
Closed to Ainsley - Hotel Room Meeting
Maybe it will be slow going, but he's going to give it his best. And that starts with a proper introduction to his new roommate- he's aware that more new people have come in recently, he's just not been in a place to catch up with all of them. He can remedy that at least a little, now, and when he finally encounters Ainsley, he gives her an amiable nod, shifting his bag to his other hand with the slow care of someone favoring bandages somewhere.
When he speaks, his voice is a low, rough rasp, polite and careful for all its ruin.
"Ah. Looks like we're roommates, then? I don't think we've met before."
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Country Roads
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Poison Ivy Puppet Show
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Country Roads
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Bucky/Winter | OTA
Once they check in, Winter disappears into his hotel room for most of the day. There's an actual bathtub in there, where he spends a solid chunk of that day. He spends the rest of that day curled up on the floor behind the bed, catching up on the sleep lost over the train trip here, so his poor unlucky roommate can be startled by him popping up with a knife in one hand when they walk in at their own bedtime.
After that, he loiters around the lobby in the evening and orders a large meal via room service, which he then eats outside by the pool after dark, sitting on one of the lounge chairs with his boots and two layers of hoodies still on.
II. Attempting to Work - About Town
Talking to people is not Winter's strong point. And he's had training in being unobtrusive, but over the course of the past months in this world with the Stranger subtly nudging him to be as unfriendly-seeming as possible, he's out of practice.
But he tries. He goes to a bar. He goes to a diner. He buys food and listens to people talk while he pretends to check things on his phone. He does not manage to be unobtrusive for a lot of that time, though occasionally he pulls it off. Maybe if someone's sitting with him it will help? Come sit with him. He'll even buy you dinner or a drink or whatever.
III. No Place Like Home
The problem with finding things that belong to him is that most of the things he remembers belonging to him come from HYDRA. And didn't... actually belong to him. They were tools as much as he was.
So while trying to do something that he can actually do by searching the garbage, Winter finds a gun amongst the trash, and scowls at it. He finds tattered tac gear, which he tosses aside contemptuously. He finds a mask. He sits back on his heels and holds the mask for a long moment. Maybe come tell him that's not actually what he's holding?
IV. Jeffrey's Hell
This is more like it. Winter is in his full tac gear, mask, and goggles, with a rifle on his shoulder and a couple handguns holstered around his person. He's prowling through the woods, only favoring his still-healing leg a little, looking for things to shoot.
Come be his back-up, friend. Or not-friend. Whoever feels like hunting today.
II
"Wanna split a piece of pie?"
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Yelena Belova | OTA
The room at the Howling Moon Inn is small enough that it might feel claustrophobic even if it weren't meant to house two people. It's still far from the worst accommodations Yelena has ever had to deal with. She's quick to claim the bed nearest to the door and begin immediately unpacking, brisk and precise in a way that clashes with the air of carefree outdoor adventurer she's chosen to adopt for the trip. Save for a few books, she hasn't brought much that's personal. It's mostly clothing, and equipment.
She doesn't stay much in the room except to sleep, but can be caught coming and going at odd intervals. It's easier, though, to catch her in the conference rooms, or lounging near the pool with a notepad, sketching rough grids or making notations in a cramped, spiky hand. Never in the pool, though she's been known to swim back in Gloucester.
It's easier still to find her out and about in town. She visits the diner and the cafe almost daily, and perhaps those books weren't personal effects after all - she'll often crack one open and linger over her small purchases, soaking in the chatter of the locals and those travelers not affiliated with ADI. In the evenings, she visits the bars, and listens to the music and chats with locals, with hikers, with anyone inclined to indulge an attractive young woman with stories of local colour and local legend and who saw a black bear trundling across one of the trails. Catch her eye, and she might gesture an invitation, offer a slightly-crooked smile and a greeting of, "How's it going?"
It might be strange to hear her speak, for those who've interacted with her at any length at all, her accent flattened and replaced with that of an Ohio farm girl - not local, but perhaps not so strange.
Sometimes, she vanishes entirely for hours at a time, caught only when she's returning from some trailhead or another, or some other errand of her own.
II. No Place Like Home
The dump is disgusting. It is also, unfortunately, inevitable - things people hide in public, they'll often discard without thinking.
So far, however, Yelena hasn't discovered anything aside from some horrible lamps and a nagging suspicion that the local rats are planning on mounting some sort of assault on one particularly questionable attempt to make a microwave look fashionable. She continues her survey, though, alert for anything out of the ordinary.
Such as, say, noises of distress from inside one of the piles of refuse, or someone following a trail of breadcrumbs directly into the lair of Oscar the Grouch's much older, nastier cousin.
III. Wildcard
Choose your own adventure!
II - I hate trash! Anything dirty or dingy or dusty. Anything ragged or rotten or rusty.
"I can't believe you talked me into coming with you." Kate states as she surveys the mess before them. She doesn't like dirty things. She doesn't like them at all. However, she has come prepared with two kinds of gloves (rubber and nitrile) and rainboots to keep most of the muck off of her legs.
Is she over-prepared? Quite possibly!
"Do you think we'll find anything important here?" Because she hates trash and the sooner they can leave the better the two of them will be.
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I
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II
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Neal Caffrey || White Collar
Neal is curious and friendly and prone to wandering, even beyond investigative responsibilities. If you're up to something interesting, chances are good he'll approach with a question about what you're doing. Maybe even try to help.
JEFFREY'S HELL - A (cw for memories of mutilation, death, etc in the comments)
Neal isn't a nature person. A picnic in a park, sure. A ski resort, a curated hiking trail, why not. Proper woods?
No, thank you. He'll take the eau de garbage-and-piss of New York over the loamy emptiness of unoccupied woods any time, thanks.
He thinks he heard someone, is the thing. It's evening, and he's tense from what little he's investigated already, and he would swear he saw someone moving out there and heard a voice. He headed for it.
Got lost.
Heard it more clearly, if it was the same person. ("Lulu-girl, here girl!") The thought of an animal lost in the woods is enough to get him hunting for the person calling out.
He can't decide if he's glad he's alone when the nightmare starts.
The blessed touch of light feels more physical than warmth when it comes. Neal stumbles out of the woods as he sees the trees thin, drops to his knees at the edge where it meets town, and throws up. Then starts crying.
For a while, that's all he does, without even the drive to get up and move away from his own sick.
JEFFREY'S HELL - B (cw for memories of mutilation, death, etc in the comments)
Eventually Neal finds his way to a bar. The first one open. The bar tender seems a bit startled to have someone knocking on his door the minute the "open" sign flickers on, before he's even had a chance to unlock, but he steps aside to let Neal in. Watches this tear-streaked stranger's face with the dual wariness of the masculine and the small-town insider.
Neal drinks what's cheap and potent, unsure what he's even trying to do, touching his stomach every so often where the attack by Katie Dunn left an actual scar. It's one of the only ones he has. The only dramatic one. He should have so many more.
JEFFREY'S HELL - CLOSED TO MALCOLM (cw for memories of mutilation, death, etc in the comments)
Neal is very drunk when he heads back toward the hotel in early afternoon. At least he thinks it's early afternoon. His sense of time is so skewed right now. He hasn't slept, isn't sure he wants to. Definitely doesn't want to encounter his roommate in his current state.
For a second he considers asking for a new room, but there aren't any available at this point, so he does the only other thing he can think of. He heads for Malcolm's door and hopes the guy's roommate isn't there, too.
no subject
"Hey! Where have you b..." But his face falls as he gets a good look and realizes something is wrong. He ushers Neal into the room, a hand lingering on his arm. "What's going on? What happened? I was looking for you."
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