villagelogs | 059-061 » the place where you stop the story

Entry tags:

059-061 » the place where you stop the story

WHO: Everyone.
WHERE: Eastern/Central/Southern Mathias
WHEN: Day 059-061
WHAT: Time returns to "normal" and Mathias grants a reprieve.
WARNINGS: (PM this account to have a warning added!)
NOTES: Plotting post over here! The next log will be posted the weekend of ~~May 15th~~ May 22nd.

RECOMMENDED ♫ Nathan Johnson "Foul Play"

DAY 059-061
A BRIEF REPRIEVE
“There is no real ending. It’s just
the place where you stop the story.”
— Frank Herbert
Residents awake to a peaceful morning with the sun shining and earth remaining still. There is no unsettling shaking to rouse them at dawn, and time has continued moving onward as they slept. Whatever state they were in the night before, they remain that way now, for good or for bad.

On the surface, there seems to be little lasting effect on the tiny town from that strange series of days, save for the memories of any traumatic experiences residents may have faced — but there are always consequences within Mathias. The perpetrators of acts against the town are tormented by nightmares of those acts being used against them, and those who did not raise a hand to stop those acts of destruction may yet face consequences of their own. For now, however, the unwilling townspeople should do their best to rest and recover from the disturbing ordeals of late, for this reprieve from the madness shall surely be shortlived.

THE NEW ARRIVALS
The newest arrivals to Mathias will wake up on the beach near The Grey Gull. It's a bit chilly out with their wet clothes, but surely there's something to help warm them inside the restaurant. They may even find some alcohol within — and not just the cowboys' homemade moonshine.

CONDITIONS UPDATE

— THE HISTORY MUSEUM has not fared well with the return of "normal" time. The once esteemed wooden building is now a charred ruin, the recent fire leaving behind little of the contents within for study. The structure is unstable and it is not wise to venture into the ruins for long.

— THE WEATHER conditions remain fairly typical for early fall: warm days and cool nights. It feels almost like spring arriving except that there fewer red and orange leaves on the ground and more of them oddly returning to the trees and slowly fading to green. It's like watching one of those nature documentaries that have a timelapse of the seasons, only it's going in reverse.

— THE FOG has retreated from some areas!
— Residents may now wander the southern stretch of the forest surrounding Mathias Township — it is possible to leave the paths but potentially unwise to do so.
— The fog has also retreated farther into the western section of town, now stretching across town between Stine Road and Shelley Drive. This has revealed the Chasm in the earth that stretches from one side of town to the other between Stine and Hill Lane.
— Access to the northern section of the forest is still blocked beginning a few dozen yards past the treeline; this section of fog will urge residents to stay huddled within the town proper by inducing a physical reaction of panic and fear.

— DEATHS & DISAPPEARANCES continue! Max Guevara has vanished into the fog. Claire Novak's body can be spotted on Day 059 facedown at the bottom of the Chasm between Hill and Stine, near Phillips Drive; by the morning of Day 060, her body will be gone. (Attempts may be made to reach her body but will likely not end well for those involved. Such attempts should be reported under Exploration.)

— ALCOHOL is still in Mathias! Just barely. (Supply is running very low after recent town events.) 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 was also restocked with its lower-end offerings of a variety of alcohol types. (Alcohol does not replenish as food does.)

OOC NOTES

— PROJECT HELP Your mod needs help with some projects!

— FUTURE PLANNING If you haven't, please answer the questions here for future log planning. I will almost definitely need some of these answers for the log going up the weekend of May 15, so act quickly! Late submissions will not be considered for that log.

— UPDATES Don't forget to report updates as they come up! Changes to locations (like toppling a few bookshelves in the library), big plots you have coming up that will affect the game (parties, major property destruction, etc), or exciting discoveries that may tie into the game's mythology (even the things provided by the mod) are very helpful to have in one place so relevant page updates can be made.

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

navigation | faq | locations | report updates

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Doc lifts his head at the sound of the voice and cracks a small smile as he sets the full crate of moonshine down on the kitchen counter. He had been planning on just quietly stocking the house up, going back out over to 1306 to fetch some rice and canned beans to fill an empty pantry shelf in case of emergencies, but since Tim is here, no harm stopping to shelve and chat for a bit.

"That is, if you can pry any out of Raylan's cold, dead-drunk hands," he muses as he starts taking the bottles out of the crate one by one.

"Just means I have to drink faster," Tim observed automatically moving into position to help Doc with transfering the moonshine from the crate to the shelves.

"To what do we owe this convenient generosity?"

"Well I had attempted this last week, but everything moved back on their own accord, so it had to wait until now." It was frustrating to say the least, but he only bothered wasting a day before deciding to ride it out.

"It seems Raylan will be spending more time here, and I do believe you are making yourself at home. On the off-chance that we get trapped inside again, you will be needing supplies to tie you over." Of course, they could always try figuring out if there is a usable stretch of tunnel between 1306 and 1308. Like hell Doc's going down there though. And he doubts Raylan would want to, either.

"I will be bringing some rice and beans over. Perhaps you would like to come along with?" Doc suggests in a slow drawl. "See if there's anything else catch your fancy." Doc has stashed away enough in the garage to open his own little mini-mart.

For a brief breath Tim's shoulders tensed in response to Doc's initial words. It seems Raylan will be spending more time here... had Raylan told his other lover about Tim? The young sniper quickly shook off the stab of paranoia and told himself that the older marshal would have said something and that Doc was just stating a neutral fact.

"I kinda liked the idea of cannibalism," he drawled with dry humor and a quick jog of his eyebrows.

"Sure. I can play pack mule," he offered up easily enough. As a man who had lived in MREs and worse when sitting on a village for days, Tim was pretty laid back about food. He did gravitate towards proteins and healthier fare, but rice and beans were perfectly adequate.

"Hnh. Not much meat on those old and weary bones. Cutting through that thick skin ain't worth the trouble," he scoffs. Clearly the reason Raylan bruises easily - well, easily in Doc's opinion - is that he needs to eat more.

They'll finish unpacking the moonshine first, with Doc letting Tim shelve the bottles any way he likes, before he starts back out towards the door with the empty crate in his hands.

"I don't have any canned Kentuckian but maybe I could interest you in some peeled tomatoes. Or this... 'spam'? Canned meatloaf-looking thing. It's probably at least five percent made of real Kentuckian."

"It's all in the preparation," Tim volleyed back in an easy spirit, his attention on making sure the moonshine was safely stored. "A nice recipe for Coq au Vin, cook low and slow, he'd tender right up."

Sorry, not sorry Raylan.

The last of the shine stored Tim closed the cupboard door and made to follow Doc back out of 1308, to the garage of 1306.

"Tsk," he shook his head. "A good SPAM is almost one hundred percent Floridian. They're a special flavor of stupid you can't find anywhere else."

"I beg your pardon?" Are they talking about Raylan's cock? Out here in the open in the middle of the street? That's too scandalous even for Doc Holliday.

"What do you have against Florida?" He doesn't know what the state and its people have become over the past century and a bit; his knowledge of a great many things comes from a rather controversial time and place. But they seem like nice folk, to him.

Once they're in 1306 and moving into the garage through the internal door, Doc veers away from the newly erected bedroom wall to the shelf and the second fridge. There's some frozen dinners, vegetables, chicken, deep fried things and so on in the freezer. The top two shelves are empty in the adjacent shelving unit but the bottom two tiers are full of canned and packaged dried food. He picks up a can of spam and flips it over to inspect the label.

"Apparently it's... pork," Doc discovers with both eyebrows going up and then down again. He doesn't look convinced.

They were bullshitting about cooking ...

Tim looked at Doc with confusion about why he just got an I beg your pardon, then went back over his previous words and oooohhh. Well technically speaking they could talk about. They'd both seen it and played with it, but Tim didn't think Doc knew Raylan had told him about Doc, or visa versa so he was just going to move the conversation along.

"It's a running joke," he went on to address the comment about Florida. "We get some crazy reports out of Florida. Like the guy who was arrested on assault with a deadly weapon charge because he tossed an alligator through a fast food drive thru window."

He follows a little tentatively, as if being in 1306 is not entirely comfortable for the young sniper and he pauses only a couple of steps into the room.

"Technically not wrong, you just don't want to think to hard on what parts of the pig are involved in making it. Kinda like scrapple."

"I'm-... Not sure what fast food drive thru is, but throwing an alligator through a window is mighty impressive." And also batshit crazy, but a man can be both impressed and exasperated. Certain people make Doc feel both at the same time all the time.

"Waste not want not, I suppose. At least you can't see... Pig bits floating in the brick." He puts the spam back down and gestures over the shelf to let Tim have his pick.

"Here. Help yourself to what you want." They may not be in the South but old habits behoove him to be hospitable and giving.

"Honestly, I don't know what confuses me more," Tim began. "The fact that a man threw an allegator at food delivery people, or the fact that they actually charged him for assault with a deadly weapon."

Tim stood there for a moment, looking at the items stocked on the shelf. He hesitated, not because he did not accept Doc's offer as genuine, but because this was the house Malcolm was in, and also Doc apparently. This was the house that needed to be secured if anything went south with a quickness.

Tim could do better about stocking up 1308 and then there would be less of a concern of 1306 being vulnerable when things went to shit. It was important that Malcolm and Doc were secure.

"Eh," he said casually. "A couple cans of spam should tide us over. 'Shopping' at the general store will keep me from playing in traffic."

"I wouldn't have minded being handed an alligator, personally. They made some fine saddles and boots out of alligator hide during the war." Not that he's ever done food delivery for a living. He wouldn't have had any trouble putting a bullet through an alligator either, whatever that says about him.

"Alright then." Doc's gifting rice and beans anyway, so it could probably last them a couple days at the very least even if Tim does find playing in traffic more engaging. With his hands full he pushes the door open with his butt, backing out back onto the street.

"We did take a few things from 1308 back when no one was living in it. If you find yourself short of some plates or bedding, you can take 'em back over."

Tim did a minor mental calculation based on what he knew from Raylan before stating, rather than asking.

"The Civil War." He said it with the respect that one veteran always showed another.

Then he chuckled and shook his head. "Just me and Athena there really. After her little stunt with the 'muggy' weather, best we keep the crockery to a minimum."

"Yeah." Doc waves his hand in a vague gesture to cover the span of the last hundred-odd years. They didn't call it that at the time, and he was too young to have fought in it - by the time he was old enough the Confederacy had dissolved and he wound up being too busy fucking his way through the Frontier anyway - but he was talking long enough ago to have brought 'saddles' up. They didn't even exchange names the first time they met so he hasn't told Tim much of the story, but he's not much in the mood right now either to talk about that life many autumn moons ago.

"I'm glad she's found your company agreeable," Doc remarks with a tight-lipped smile. "She seemed rather insistent on going at it alone, despite well-meaning advice and recommendations."

Yeah it was true, he had a bit of an unfair advantage from Raylan.

As for Athena. Tim gave a small shrug. "She an I shared the hobo life for those first few days, but I think you can lay her settling at Raylan's feet. He has a knack for it."

"Herding the strays?" Come to think of it, Raylan had done the same to Doc. Stray puppies who think themselves lone wolves, indulging a man who won't take no for an answer pretending they're putting up with his fussing when in fact they relish in the comfort of his company. Or, any company, really. For a small town with houses within walking distance of each other, they make for a very lonely bunch of individuals.

Well, at any rate, Doc seems to have a soft spot for Marshals, so. At least he has one particularly terrible excuse. Can't say the same for the others.

"You could try and tell me you wouldn't come running the moment she calls. Might be I'd even believe you if you could keep a straight face on."

"I didn't smoother her with a pillow in retaliation for the whole 'muggy' joke," Tim used that statement as his response, along with a look.

Because they both knew that if he tried to bullshit Doc would call him on the bullshitting and then they would risk a spiral of more and more bullshit until they were both buried under it. Anyone called, Tim would come running. He was a US Deputy Marshal and that was his calling, in so much as his job.

The look was received, loud and clear, even as they slink back into 1308 to fill a pantry shelf with some emergency food. He'd half a mind to keep some first aid supplies there too, but Tim probably had the sense to grab what he could find in the General Store and bring it back here since he's making a trip anyway.

"Think you'll be all set here?" He's aware he must have interrupted something Tim was in the middle of doing when he showed up. He doesn't want to end up taking half the young man's day.

Slink, slink, slink.

Tim was putting away the supplies from Doc but he turned at the question, picking up a can of SPAM and tossing it lightly between his hands. His expression lost some of it's cocky shellac, before serious in a manner designed to be reassuring.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "She may be a kid, but Athena's got good survival instincts. What I may fail to pick up, there's a good chance she'll have grabbed four of em. Shit goes down she an I will be fine."

Pausing Tim gave the can another absent minded toss, considering something before he looked back up at Doc.

"Remind him of that fact, when he can't be two places at the same time, and tries to punish himself with guilt over it?"

"You must have mistaken me for a Marshal whisperer," Doc jokes with a small, fond little smile. Actually he hasn't done too badly for himself so far, counting up all the Marshals he has met and seeing how far he's managed to get with most of them, although there's probably been an inappropriate amount of whispering involved, too.

"I'll talk to him." But, masochist that he is, and stubborn as a mule to boot, it isn't likely that Raylan's going to listen. Tim surely knows that though, so there's no need to point out the obvious. Doc's much the same, anyway. Beating themselves up over circumstances out of their control is a known cowboy pastime.

"Did something happen recently or...?" In case this needs to be brought up too.

"It's the bond you share over the hats," Tim volleyed back with a friendly upturn of his lips. The young sniper then nodded with unspoken understanding that Raylan was Raylan (there was a reason his name was a verb around the office) but he already suspected that this man had a level head on his shoulders and would do what he could. And Tim suspected 'what he could' was probably more than Doc gave himself credit.

As for the question Tim appeared to give it a moment's thought and then lied through his pretty white teeth.

"Not that I'm aware of," he said with a small shrug. "When it comes to Raylan, it seems to help to have everyone else on the same page before shit goes down."

If Doc had picked up on the lie, he didn't shine any light on it. He simply accepts, with a nod. If something did happen he can probably wrangle it out of Raylan, if he really wants to. But he doesn't feel the need to pry. Their affairs are their own, much as he doesn't expect Raylan to talk too much about his affairs with John Henry.

"Alright. I'll be in that house," Doc gestures over to 1307, and then 1306. "Or that one, if you need anything."

That would not be Raylan's style and as such any possible questions Tim might have were smothered before they could fully form. Their affairs were their own. Outside of the fact that Tim expected Doc was someone Raylan might actually listen to when his temper had the bit between its teeth. Tim wouldn't hesitate to use that resource to try to keep Raylan from doing something stupid.

"You know where to find us," Tim responded. "Please feel free to mosey on over if you are ever hankering for a scintillating game of CandyLand."

Because he and Athena were the most adult of adults.

"...Candy land? Unh, well. If it's a card game, I'm sure I can pick it up fairly quickly." Although, Negan had failed to mention that Blowjob Uno is not how that game is usually played and all the times Strip Uno has come up hasn't really told Doc otherwise. That is more or less the extent of his knowledge of modern card games.

There were cards involved?

First off we were not playing Strip, Blowjob or anything perverted Candy Land! Even if Tim would be up for Blowjob Uno, as long as Athena was playing there would be no perverted anything! Second there was that cussed part of him that was amused at the picture of Doc sitting down to the board game of Candy Land in all it's colorful glory.

"We'll be happy to show it to you, Doc. If you decided you'd like to give it a go, but I do have to warn you, Athena and I play cut throat Candy Land." Tim said with his lips twitched upwards in a mischievous little smirk.

Edited 2021-05-16 15:58 (UTC)

"That suits me just fine," he says with an agreeable little smile. For as much time as he does spend orbiting around 1306, he does care for the townsfolk residing elsewhere, and it would be nice if there were more social events, more dinners and gatherings and knowledge-sharing or community-building attempts than feeling like they only meet under duress.

"I won't go easy on you two either." Doc's usually fairly lucky, if there's cards involved.

059-061 » the place where you stop the story

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)