villagelogs | 037-040 » the reason for time

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037-040 » the reason for time

WHO: Everyone.
WHERE: Eastern/Central Mathias
WHEN: Day 037-040
WHAT: The dead return and the living wake to changes within Mathias Township.
WARNINGS: Some explicit sexual content in threads. (PM this account to have a warning added!)
NOTES: Plotting post over here!

RECOMMENDED ♫ Kammarheit "Sleep after Toyle, Port after Stormie Seas"

DAY 037
THE DEAD RETURN
“The only reason for time is so that everything
doesn't happen at once.” —Albert Einstein
The dead return to Mathias forever changed by their experiences. Waking along the beach, near the tree line, or among the graves, they will find that their bodies are not as they remember them. They are whole again and not torn to shreds by the shadow creatures that cannot be described, but they are also not as they were before the Hunt. These residents will find, so strangely, that their bodies are in the physical state in which they first arrived in Mathias — any injuries or recovery they have made since their initial arrival no longer exists, as if their time in Mathias has simply been a horrible nightmare. Except they all now carry a last reminder of the Hunt with them: spiderweb-thin healed scars marking their injuries from the Hunt. Those who were injured by fire in the other realm also carry those burns with them.

The dead are not the only things that have returned to Mathias. Inexplicably, fall is back, with the temperature finally reaching above freezing and snow falling from trees to reveal beautiful autumnal colors. As the sun rises higher in the lightly cloudy sky and the day warms, the snow begins rapidly melting, puddles growing in the slowly revealed grass and little rivers forming in the streets. And with that snow comes the frozen blood from the deaths to the Hunt, tinting the street river on Phillips Drive a sickening shade of red.

Another oddity that residents will notice: houses with broken windows from the encounter with the fog on Day 015 have now been completely repaired, though any boards put in place are still there somehow. A small bit of good news, at least? And truly, how kind of Mathias to clean up its own mess.

Finally, alcohol is back. Enjoy in moderation, friends, for more will not be arriving the following morning.

THE NEW ARRIVALS
The newest arrivals to Mathias will wake up on the beach near The Grey Gull. It's quite chilly out with their wet clothes, but surely there's something to help warm them inside the restaurant. Indeed, their timing is perfect, for alcohol has finally returned to Mathias Township — and not just the cowboys' homemade moonshine.

DAY 038-039
THE CHANGE OF SEASON
The continued warm weather proves that the unseasonable shift of the previous day was not merely a fluke. Once again, the sun rises and brings with it a temperature that feels almost spring-like, save for the fact that each day there seem to be more and more leaves on the trees in hues of red and orange. For those who have been in Mathias for some time, this new type of weird may be almost normal at this point, but newer arrivals will likely find it quite odd.

The gently trickling river running along Phillips Drive is still somewhat pink in color as the snow continues to melt and refreeze each night. By Day 040, the bloody snow will finally be gone completely, though the relief will be... short-lived.

DAY 040
THE BLINDING WHITE
In the late morning of Day 040, when the sun is visible through patchy greyish clouds, the fog sweeps into town like a like a tidal wave. It moves in quickly and without warning, not from the waterfront but the forest, cascading through every street in a thick wave of white. Rather than a soft blanket enveloping the town, it is a heavy weight pressing down, blotting out the sky in a way that almost feels suffocating, for none can see further than their outstretch hand.

Those outside when it rolls in are left wandering blind, stumbling toward shelter as you're unable to even see your feet beneath you, let alone any obstacles in your path. Perhaps you call out for help, hoping for another voice to guide you toward shelter or simply another living soul. Or perhaps you were lucky enough to already be inside when the fog descended, quickly closing doors and windows to keep it from creeping in.

Unlike the last time the fog swept into the town, residents who encounter it are not immediately killed. Instead, they are simply disoriented, possibly losing their sense of time and place, and it is only after prolonged exposure that they will begin to feel off. A sense of being ill will cling to them if they are in the fog for too long, including dizziness, lightheadedness, or nausea — the time it takes to manifest varies from person to person, as does the duration it will last after leaving the fog.

By nightfall, the fog still has not dissipated.

CONDITIONS UPDATE

— THE WEATHER conditions are fairly typical for late fall: chilly "sweater weather" days and nights that can dip just below freezing. You don't want to be outside without a coat, but it won't kill anyone if they bundle up. Probably.

— THE FOG remains blocking the paths in the forest beginning a few dozen yards past the treeline, urging residents to stay huddled within the town proper, and it also now blocks the western section of town, beginning just past Hill Lane, before where residents know the chasm in the earth to be between Hill and Stine Road. Venturing into the fog blocking these areas is ill-advised.

— DISAPPEARANCES continue. Castiel and Sam Winchester have vanished, and Dean Winchester has not returned with the others after his death during the Hunt.

— THE GRAVEYARD has now seen around a dozen burials, both below and above ground. With the weather warming, though, something may need to be done about the handful of temporary graves aboveground...

— ALCOHOL has returned to Mathias! A small stock of beer and cheap wine may be found at the General Store, and some homes may have a small store of alcohol in the fridge or pantry. The Grey Gull has also been restocked with its lower-end offerings of a variety of alcohol types. Alcohol does not replenish in the same way as food.

— THE GREY GULL has been cleaned up and stocked with moonshine. Along with the newly restocked usual offerings, the place almost seems like an actual bar again.

— THE GENERAL STORE is in a bit of a state following the brutal slaughter of two residents during the Hunt. Cleanup on aisle 3, anyone?

OOC NOTES

— FOOD is now being mysteriously restocked as per usual, including inside homes and at the General Store. Alcohol is not being restocked. Use those rationing skills, friends.

— REWARD REDEPEMPTION is back and will soon have a new option for anyone looking to spend big AP and learn a bit more of the lore of the town.

— MADNESSES due to the Hunt have been earned by Klaus Hargreeves, Ellie, and Malcolm Bright and may now be claimed. Players may also claim additional sanity loss from the aftermath of the Hunt; only losses from the Hunt itself have been deducted from totals thus far.

— SANITY REGAIN is now available! Players will submit a form with some details of the progress their character has made and the mod will review and decide on the numbers of points that will be regained.

— MOD STATUS The usual reminder that it's mostly just Amy steering this ship for now, so things will probably be pretty slow for a while. Apologies in advance, and please don't feel shy about pinging me if you're stuck waiting for something.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Was the reason we were goin' in the first place." No, there was no real fear of the being itself, despite the anxiety and dread it filled Raylan with. Or perhaps that was the fear itself, driving him to try and resolve the thing causing it - tomato/potato.

But that was the past, didn't matter anymore.

Malcolm sank back into him and Raylan's hand ran back up Malcolm's arm to circle around his shoulders. "'Cause we're all doin' so well not putting our coping mechanisms on each other," he clucked out with a soft sarcasm. "We say a lot when we're too wound up." Stressed, frustrated, grief-filled.. "He didn't mean everyone and he didn't mean all the time. Don't take it too hard."

Of course, Raylan had been gone, he could only guess but he and Doc Holliday had found a wavelength somewhere along the way. He'd trust Doc to speak for him, if he needed to.

“I didn’t... take it hard. I mean, it surprised me, because we talked about it a lot. ....But then I realized that I talked about it a lot. And I just. Talk a lot. But I can be easier to live with. I’m working on it. It was good feedback.”

"You do talk a lot, I'm not gonna try to lie to you about it. And maybe that could be toned down about two notches, but don't let it shut you down completely. That's not what he meant, he doesn't want you to shut up. Talkin' is the only reason we're as far on as we are these days." And not just in trying to unravel the secrets of Mathis.

Malcolm shifted so he could look up at him.

"I just.... I don't want him to leave. Or break. Or leave because he breaks. He won't let us help him. I asked him to let me," he admitted. "Because he took all that..." He waved towards the street. "He took it really hard. I mean. We both did. But. It was worse. But he said he'd be happy if I could just... take care of myself. So I tried. But I can't. And now I don't know what to do for him except... not bothering him with all my nonsense. That's the only other thing he's asked me for."

"Helpin' men like him.. like me, ain't as easy as you askin' for help, us sayin' yes and then pouring our hearts out over your boots. And I know that's not exactly what you're askin' for but.. It's also exactly what you're askin' for. It takes time. Space. Silence. Room enough to figure out how to let a little out the top... In not so clinical terms."

They were not an exact science.

"I can't say exactly what he meant. I can only guess and I don't like doin' that in things like this. Normally, a man's business is his own but.." Raylan studied Malcolm's face. "I'm not gonna let him leave or break. Not without a fight. Not without a say for my part." Which included his feelings, though he hoped that it was something that Malcolm would naturally assume.

"Don't leave a man that suffered the bottom of a well for a hundred years to himself. Even if you don't say anything at all. No words to fix anything, no attempts to take the weight of it when you can't. The idea otherwise is a lie. Heavy ones to shoulder and keep up. Find a way to be okay with some silence. It'll get you a long way with him."

A way to be okay with some silence.

"So... just stay with him? But. I thought he didn't want me to stay. He looked into my room but then he left. He didn't come in like... like you guys usually do. I went to his but he said the only thing I could do to help with his burdens was to take care of myself. He didn't... how do I know if he wants me to stay or if he wants to be alone?"

"He didn't stay, so he wanted to be alone or didn't feel he had the patience to comfort you at the expense of suspendin' his own I'd guess. There's no textbook that comes, you play it by ear, one step at a time and understand that thakin' care of yourself doesn't necessarily mean doin' it in the other room."

Raylan shook his head, hand coming up to cup Malcolm's face.

"Give everyone a few days, me and him included. I don't know what it was like on this side-" Flashes of Arlo's kitchen painted in Helen's blood splattered across his mind and Raylan closed his eyes briefly with a breath before opening them halfway to continue. "And I ain't got all the answers. But I will talk to him at some point, I promise. Sort it out. Just.. be cool."

Edited 2021-03-03 01:55 (UTC)

Be cool. Give them a few days. That was sound.

And the hand on his face was grounding. Malcolm's gaze searched Raylan's face.

"I-is it okay that I'm here now?"

Raylan lifted his eyebrows at him. "Because why, you're so influential and cute that I wouldn't have had the sense of mind to stop it before I got naked and climbed into a tub with a man ten years my junior?"

He knew that wasn't the case but maybe, just maybe, the question being posed would give Malcolm something to chew over.

"Well. Technically, you climbed into the tub by yourself. Then I... invaded," he joked, but his tone was lighter. But after a moment, his expression grew serious again. "It's not you or Doc... my... trust issues predate this place by a lot. There's never been anyone I couldn't run off with the depths of my problems. Always with an assist from my personality. I don't mean to... I'm not trying to test you. I just don't want to overstay my welcome to the point that you resent me. Better if I ease things up before then. Maybe we can still... talk sometimes. Maybe I can still see you guys."

"Malcolm, I'm not lettin' you leave or break without a fight or a say in it either," he assured with a stern but somehow soft look, gaze tilted from under his eyebrows. He would fight for and with Malcolm as hard as he would for Henry or for Neal. These people that he'd adopted. These people that he believed really did care about him.

"As long as I've got sense in me, you're not gonna be left alone to this place. You or him. No one's goin' anywhere and it's gonna take a lot more than some screams and some conversation to make me resent you. You ain't gotta worry about that."

Edited 2021-03-03 02:54 (UTC)

It was true. He could see that in Raylan's face when he said it. The conviction. He stared at him a moment, then he kissed him urgently, his hand sliding back up around the back of Raylan's neck.

There wasn't anything that Malcolm would do that would put himself on the level of the people that Raylan was used to dealing with in his personal life. He hadn't said much about it, his roots, his childhood experiences, hell - even Winona, except to Doc and the gunslinger was already a rare exception. Raylan didn't have the words or the tools to make all that clear, to provide a context of contrast to what he was used to.

The idea that him falling into this, into the kiss and the heat of the man against him, was proof enough of that.

When the kiss broke, Raylan leaned his forehead against Malcolm's. "I can't say it's gonna be okay, but we're gonna do our best." He didn't know how to get through this but he was going to do his damnedest. For all of them; Doc couldn't shoulder the rock job all on his own and Raylan aimed to make sure of that. Support, for all of them.

"I'm not leavin' either of you."

Malcolm watched his face for another moment, then pressed his temple to Raylan’s temple before setting a kiss on his cheekbone, then on his cheek, then on his jaw.

“The house was wrong with just us there,” he murmured, pressing another kiss along Raylan’s jaw.

He hummed quietly, tilting his head into those kisses, hands tightening a fraction before loosening. Whatever this was, however this was defined, he wasn't sure but there was no arguing the raw comfort Malcolm brought.

"I'll come back to the house tomorrow. Then maybe we can shamble back together some semblance of normal and try to move on to the next obstacle. Expand that garage or somethin', make room." He didn't object to Yennefer and Ellie posting up at 1306, he just couldn't face them fresh from it all. That required too much.

"It'll be okay. We'll figure it out."

Malcolm was pretty sure that Yennifer and Ellie were only staying temporarily. He expected they'd drift back to their house next door once things had settled in the wake of the massacre.

But that didn't make it easier to face faces that Raylan felt the need to be strong for. That he wanted Malcolm there made him feel... privileged.

"I can help," he said, pressing his face into the crook of Raylan's neck. "Doc said he'd teach me how to use tools as long as I put them down if I.... felt unwell."

The extension wasn't just because of Yennifer and Ellie. Raylan was still thinking about Klaus and Five too. Their slight crowding issue predated their new trauma and it gave him something closer to normal to fall back on.

He nodded against Malcolm's head. "See, you're already halfway to makin' things okay. The help'll be good. For you too. Do somethin' with those hands besides wring them. Surprised you haven't broken any of your fingers, if I'm honest. Worryin' over all of us and everything else too. I think it'll be good for us to have a little extra room anyway. Just in case we decide to throw a block party again."

Malcolm lifted his left hand from Raylan's neck to look at it and then he wiggled it for Raylan.

"I broke my first metacarpal once. But that was to get out of shackles."

"I don't know what your metacarpal is, but shackles? When were you in shackles?" Who used shackles, unless they were out in old old country? It sounded like some Roman prison shit, but Raylan kept that to himself.

"A serial killer got the drop on me when I was chasing him. He chained me up in a basement. He wanted to... convert me. Turn me into a killer. He decided that murdering my family with an axe was a necessary step to that so... I took a ball peen hammer from his tool bag and broke this bone right here," he said holding the hand up again and running the index finger of his opposite hand from the base of his thumb to his wrist. "The first metacarpal bone," he clarified. "Which allowed the five inch hand breadth of my hand to fit through a three inch steel shackle. So I could go after him." He looked from his hand up to Raylan's face. "Which, I have to say, was a lot more painful than the stab wound," he added, shifting so Raylan could see the pink line on the left side of his abdomen, just below his ribs. "That was my first 'trial'. Then sacrificing my family was to be the second 'trial'," he explained.

There was, eventually, a point where Raylan's face could frown no more but it took the whole telling for it to get all the way down. There was no helping him glancing over at the context of where Malcolm had broken himself, but he was deeply impressed with the length Malcolm had gone to.

"Jesus," he finally said after a long second. "Him sacrificing them or you?"

Considering the painted circumstances, it could be either or.

Edited 2021-03-07 01:24 (UTC)

Malcolm looked up at him. "They way he put it: it wasn't something I had to do, just something I had to endure. He felt our family was my father's weakness and that I shared it, so if they were sacrificed... I could surpass my father as a predator."

That was insane but then again, Malcolm Bright didn't seem to deal with a lot of sane people.

"What the fuck is goin' on in New York City?" And they say Kentucky was messed up.

"That's a fair question," Malcolm admitted with a laugh. "Though it's not exclusive to New York. I arrested some pretty messed up killers all over the country."

"Don't get it twisted, we got a lot of messed up people in the south, all over the place, I've seen 'em too, but.. Seems like it's either New York or you drawin' in the freaks." Reasons why Raylan was not a profiler 101 - you don't start by calling them freaks.

He shook his head. "What happened after you got out of the shackles?"

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bathtub - for my own orientation

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