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10:00 PM
JANUARY CATCH-ALL
βΊ AT LEAST YOU FINALLY GET TO REST?
- Though the new year starts off uneventful enough, with sunny skies and an inch or two of snow melting away with each new day, that good fortune lasts a whopping two whole days. At 5 AM on the 3rd, those slumbering fall into an even deeper sleep, and those still awake (or already awake, you overachievers) find themselves struck with an abrupt and insurmountable wave of exhaustion. It's all you can really do to lie down deliberately rather than collapse altogether, let alone making it to any sort of bed. And this is how the population of the containment zone remains for fourteen whole days, dead to the world (figuratively, of course) and to anything which may or may not be occurring around them.
Then, sometime throughout the 16th, you wake up - though the ambient ache in your neck, back, and joints may make you wish that you hadn't. It's almost as if you slept wrong, or... y'know, slept on the floor, apparently. (At the very least, those who were outside at maintenance time were moved indoors for the duration of it, though they were moved to the nearest available building so... have fun waking up in someone else's cabin, I guess.)
The first time you notice the date (on your phone, or maybe someone else breaks the news in their own confusion or panic), you probably struggle to believe it. Two weeks that you've been asleep. It doesn't feel like two weeks - you're clean, only mildly hungry or thirsty, with only a faint weakness in your muscles as you stand. It almost feels more likely that the Technicians adjusted the date overnight to alarm you. Perhaps you might even believe it, but for the evidence otherwise. The milk in your fridge has expired. The snow outside your door is fresh and untouched, with no sign of your passage supposedly yesterday. And the animals are gone, as well. Perhaps not a sign of how long you've slept, but certainly a sign that something isn't right.
If you expected an explanation, you aren't going to get one. Unless by 'explanation' you mean 'goddamn blizzard'.
A GODDAMN BLIZZARD
- Because that's exactly what sets in on the 20th, a gale-force blizzard with increasingly limited visibility. Here's hoping you were smart enough to set out for home as soon as it began, because you aren't given more than a couple of hours before navigating outdoors is damn near impossible, between the visibility issue and the rapidly-deepening blanket of snow. As the afternoon fades to evening, it only seems to be getting worse. Those cabins with appropriately-slanted roofs find that the snow slides down to pile heavily against the cabin's exterior walls and door. Those cabins with a flat or gently-sloped roofs, on the other hand, are at strong risk of a part of their roof (and thus ceiling) collapsing under the weight of all that snow. As if having a blizzard outside the cabin wasn't bad enough.
And then things get just a little bit worse. Just before sunset, the cabins' electricity starts to flicker - just a little at first, but increasing in intensity until it finally goes out altogether a half hour later. This lasts through the night, and while it may seem promising that electricity within the town itself remains steady, that too goes into a blackout just before dawn.
This blackout lingers through the 21st and into the 22nd, cold seeping in through the windows and cracks as you huddle near the fire or generator-run space heater and hope for the best... But even the best isn't pleasant in the slightest. The lack of internal heat lets the doors and windows freeze shut, and snow piles high enough around the house's exterior that you'd have to climb out an upstairs window in order to exit. Not only is it cold as hell, but everyone's more-or-less trapped in it for now.
But not even the cold and the dark can last forever, and the blizzard lets up to a light dusting of snow mid-day on the 22nd. That evening, the power flickers back on as well, but some cabins/apartments/buildings may find that it's less consistent than others, continuing to flicker dangerously throughout the next day or so. But that doesn't mean the ordeal is over yet. The snow may have slowed to an almost laughable sprinkle and the sun may shine warm and bright in the rapidly-clearing sky, but that still leaves each cabin or building piled up with snow nearly as deep as you are tall (except you, Vivi - it's about twice your height). Might want to start digging yourself out, since it'll take nearly the rest of the month to melt down to reasonable levels if you don't.
βΊ MOD NOTES
- This is the January Catch-All Log, for all log top-levels throughout the month. Large gatherings (parties, meetings, etc) are still encouraged to post their own logs for organizational purposes!
- This log also encompasses both Annual Maintenance (Jan 3rd - 16th) + Hey, Who Turned Out The Lights? (Jan 20th - 22nd), discussed at the bottom of the January Bulletin.
- Because this is a catch-all for everywhere + all month, try to remember to label your top-levels with identifying information like the IC date and location of each prompt (whether in the subject or in the prompt title within the comment), and be sure to clearly indicate event prompts.
- ( ! ) For the sake of organization, a top-level has been provided for all Annual Maintenance shenanigans and exclusively those. Please put any shared dream prompts under the top-level for the sake of organization, while any non-dream prompts should be posted as a regular top-level as normal.
- Cell phone signal does work during the blackout, but inconsistently! If you'd like to play with the trapped/isolated feelings, feel free to say they can't get a message out/in (or that it takes a long time to do so) even if others are able to more easily.
- Any questions can be directed to this top-level or, for a quicker response, to Trace on discord/plurk.