atonementlogs | Event 001: The Potions

Characters: All.
When: February 1st
Where: Town Square
Warnings: None. Please put any warnings in the comment subject if it progresses that way!

As of this morning, there will be a steady rain over Penance that will darken the skies to black and fall as if somehow tainted and muddied, followed by a cold and harsh wind that will chill one to the bone if they dare to venture out in it... which may be necessary. The ground and roads will be slick and muddied, but there will be power outages due to the weather so staying in may not be necessarily more appealing. The rain will continue steadily for a week and be intermittent the rest of the month.

However, should anyone venture to the town square in search of warmth, there will be a large tent set up that is entirely illuminated regardless of whether the rest of Penance is or not. There will be supplies such as food and water for the taking, as well as a few old blankets for people to huddle under while they wait out the storm.

That's not all, of course. It wouldn't be atoning in the slightest if things were made too calm and cozy during the storm. There will also be letters left to each of Penance's new citizens detailing what this month's punishment entails.

It's time for your hosts to be a little less kind than upon arrival.

A table set up under the tent has five different kind of vials on it, plenty of each to go around. They have the following effects:

Pink. Allows for one to hear the true thoughts of others, including what is thought about them for 24 hours during all interactions. This is to cause some self-reflection and insight into how they're viewed.

Green. Allows for pain to be given to another for 24 hours. It will be agonizing pain and sickness. While this is extremely frowned upon, it will mean that the person in question will have participated in punishments this round and will be excused from drinking any other potion. However, remember that the actions we take now may have consequences in the future. It should also be noted that you won't get to choose who experiences the pain due to your decision, so no trying to take a grudge out on anyone.

Purple. Allows one to feel the pain they caused another during their lives for 24 hours. They will feel what that person felt entirely. Hopefully this will cause some reflection and remorse for the actions that caused another to feel hurt.

Blue. Forces honesty for 24 hours. No lying and one may even be compelled to spill their deepest, darkest secrets and sins to anyone who will listen. Transparency is key to atoning for past sins.

Red Causes significant pain for 24 hours. It may be general pain like an ache in your bones that can't be soothed, or it may manifest in physical injuries such as cuts, bruises, etc. They say pain can be cleansing...

For those eager for punishment (which your hosts love to see), you may take more than one vial to spread out over the month, although taking multiple potions at once may not be entirely wise for most. Citizens may opt to try to avoid punishment this month, but again, remember all choices may have future consequences. Your hosts are here to see that you pay for your sins, not just scrape by.

With your letter collected, you may stay and get to know each other a little better while you wait for the storm to pass or insist on grabbing your items and brave the return to your home. The choice is absolutely yours.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Vasquez raises a brow as he looks around, because it's not surprising that this place could be a boarding house, but it might be a little surprising that they're intending to make it one. "You want to take in people, serve them like this?" he asks warily, or maybe Billy is just saying that he's one of the guests.

Regardless, he reaches for the alcohol so that he can pour himself a glass, needing more than a little to get through whatever it is that this place is. "There's a saloon? An actual one?"

The intention isn't there. It's merely Billy's poor attempt at a joke. And an offer, hidden in there somewhere, that if Vasquez should want to stay with them, well- there's more than enough room.

Still, when he mentions serving people, Billy's face darkens slightly. He'd rather rot in hell, honestly, but he makes his displeasure known with the sharp way he puts his glass of water on the table.

"No. We're not making this a boarding house. I'm not serving anyone." Not to say that, if they were settling here for a while, they would need to find steady work. And unless they wanted to split the shares three ways, that meant finding someone other than Vasquez to rig quick draw contests against.

"Something like it. There's no piano and no cathouse. Just plenty of alcohol." A lot of things he couldn't name and that hadn't smelled like his particular brand of poison, really...

That sounds like it makes more sense, even if Vasquez doesn't want to say that out loud. He glances around the large space as he drinks, trying to imagine the saloon. "That's the only part that matters of a saloon," he does feel compelled to point out, seeing as he doesn't really care about pianos or other things.

He always could find his own entertainment when he was five sheets to the wind. "I don't get it," he says bluntly. "If this is a place where we're expected to show penance, why give so many things that can lead to more sins?"

Billy doesn't comment about temptation or penance. Only leans back in his chair and sips the cold water, staring out the window at the lashing rain and dark clouds overhead. There's a chill in the air that seeps into the house, through the cracks under the doors and around the edges of the windows.

He misses the warmth of Rose Creek. Of Volcano Springs. Of any of the dozens of towns they've passed through.

"Goody's the one for philosophy." He points out, shaking his head slightly. "Personally don't think our hosts actually care."

"All I know is that this is better than what I had back home, on Earth, whatever you want to call it," he says with a disbelieving huff. "How sad is it to say this? That your life back home is worse than something that's probably purgatory."

Shaking his head, he turns instead to his drink, intent on that instead of being miserable. "Is there something next door to here? Maybe I could put myself there, in spitting distance for safety."

There's a soft "ha" of laughter as Billy can't help but agree. That life back home was arguably worse than this limbo between life and death. Even with the fresh brand on his arm- M, for murder- it's still good to be here. A roof over his head. Goody by his side.

"All the houses around here are empty. Not a lot of neighbors." Only a few he'd actually met. Some kid, a man that set his teeth on edge, the one who had given him this fine bottle of bourbon.

It was a proverbial- maybe a literal- ghost town.

He doesn't have to say that he's somewhat relieved if Vasquez decides to live next door. At least he won't have to end up sneaking out of Goody's bed before sunrise.

"In that case, you can expect to see more of me," he says, at least, if it's true that he doesn't have to keep hiding out from the law like he had to before. Now, though, it's not so bad. Maybe he gets a house over his head and drinks, but there's one big point that still hasn't been addressed.

"What about food?" He's not a starving man anymore, not since Rose Creek, but knows too well how quickly that can all change. "Where do we get the food?"

"Hunting isn't good." He shakes his head. Hasn't seen a thing in the forests or trees, at least nothing worth eating. The wood is cold and nearly frozen with rain, slicked with mud as all growing things lay dormant. Any snares that he'd set broken or empty.

"There's a general store in town with nothing but food. I suppose our hosts don't mind us borrowing some." There's a loose shrug again as he drinks, because borrowing is a much nicer word than 'stealing'.

"Tent in the middle of town has some canned goods up for grabs."

That's going to be a problem in the long run, if their captors suddenly decide that they don't want them taking from them. "Whatever we need to feed ourselves, I'll gladly borrow," he guarantees, having no issues or compunctions with being the one to steal the food from the store or from the tent.

He's not going to starve again, not if he doesn't have to and that much will be clear from the steely determination in his eyes. "I don't understand," he admits. "Why keep us fed? Warm? Saving us for something, maybe?"

Event 001: The Potions

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