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

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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

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— 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.

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The contact at his wrist made Malcolm look at him with a sharp turn of his head but warm eyes. He turned his hand to catch Raylan's fingers in his palm.

Except gettin to end a day next to ya. That's pretty easy.

Malcolm's smile creased his face with an obvious swell in his heart, but he met Raylan's tone, trying to keep it light. At his next remark, with a slightly more mischievous smile, he teased "I think you can train dogs not to do that. Not that I ever had dogs growing up. I had snakes, actually. A whole bunch of snakes. Until one of them got out of the tank and ate my sister's gerbil. Then my mother made me get rid of them."

He tilts his head up to look at Raylan again. "You know... if you find the right person, you can have your vocation with the Marshals and the picket fence."

Edited 2021-05-23 17:31 (UTC)

It wasn't fair to ask Malcolm to run by the rules that the cowboys and Tim did. Raylan knew it was unnatural for Malcolm to hide, to be so outwardly unacknowledging of their relationship. Raylan wanted to be open about it, to be so bold. He didn't like hiding his affections. But something in him, something about this, about all of the homosexuality he'd been indulging in, stopped him short.

Like they were part of the bottle he kept his from the people in his life.

But he gave a stupid little grin despite himself at the grip around his fingers, the joke about dog training. "Gerbils had it comin', I'm sure.." The easy look settled into something sad as he stared at their hands together, a part of him mourning what they could have had, could have, at home.

"Who's gonna take the bullshit of the job and me never bein' home more than a few hours in the mornin, if at all, waiting to see if they get a call that I've caught a bullet somewhere.. We both know how heavy worry is."

How many mistakes would he make before Tim left? And Tim was the most steadfast person around him at home, at the job.

Malcolm held his gaze, sidelong.

"Someone who does a similar job. Someone who understands why you need to do it; how it's a part of who you are. Someone who knows the world is a better and safer place because you do. It doesn't negate the worry, but it does negate the idea that who you are is wrong somehow. It's not, you know," Malcolm explained matter of factly.

So.. The three men who currently were attached to him. At least he could take that as him being somewhere on the path towards something better, by Malcolm's estimations. And with what they'd already talked about regarding their home worlds, it sounded an awful lot like that answer was 'Tim Gutterson'. Who would have to share a fraction of hope with Malcolm Bright.

"Mm," he acknowledged, eyebrows lifting but his gaze staying down on their hands. He wasn't sure he believed that. He made no apology for what he had become but the idea that it was wrong somehow had come across several times.

"And when my work on top of theirs gets to be too much grimdark on grimdark? Or they're asked to do it longer than 6 years?" How long he'd been married. And yes, Raylan was after that kind of companionship, in the end. After a second, hazel eyes lifted to blue. "I ever tell you why Winona and I got a divorce?"

Malcolm had rather hoped he was talking about himself, but he was still looking towards the possibility of going with Raylan - if they weren't already from the same world - despite Doc's suggestion that there was no room for Malcolm Bright in the real life of Raylan Givens.

Though perhaps, if he knew Tim was a possibility for Raylan, he might grudgingly admit he fit the criteria.

He shook his head at the question. "But if I had to guess... the risks and demands of the job got too much for her to deal with? She wanted you to make her the priority of your life instead of it? Maybe even do a different job altogether? But you couldn't?"

"I told her Miami would be more white collar kinda crimes. It wasn't, but it was a city that wasn't in the middle of Colorado." His eyes dropped again, thumb brushing over Malcolm's fingers.

"She sent me ahead to Miami while she sold the house and fucked the realtor. Instead'a her, I got divorce papers. No explanation. No conversations. Just papers. She said we'd been done for months and I just.. refused to see it." The admission came with a little down turn of his lips. "Didn't get to get around to askin' why until I landed back in Lexington for Boyd's case. Yer right. It was the job.. It was also me. She called me the angriest man she'd ever know." His brow pinched a little with it.

Raylan tried so hard to keep his temper under control, especially around people he cared about. To protect them from him and the fury he could always feel under the surface but over his forty years, he'd gotten a lot of practice. He thought he'd done fairly well.

"Ain't just the job that's the problem, Malcolm."

"The job wasn't the real problem at all," Malcolm countered. "I'm curious why you don't frame her betrayal as... a betrayal," he asked, his eyes wandering Raylan's face. "Because you think you deserved it," he concluded on his own. "You think you did something to earn that sort of treatment." His expression softened. "Raylan, no. That's... not..." His grip on Raylan's fingers tightened a little. "It's not okay that she did that to you. Demanding job or no demanding job. Anger issues or no anger issues. I find it impossible to believe you ever laid a hand on her in anger," he said with utter conviction. "Cheating on you was a choice she made, not something you forced her to do. She wanted to get your attention in the worst way and she wanted to make you feel bad and it worked. It's manipulative."

His brow pinched a little further. He'd done all he could but.. Maybe if he'd let somethin' go or gone back to Glynco, taken the demotion. He could have worked jobs on the side for extra money. Money they needed now that Willa was around. Collage to think about.

A life he didn't get to have, it felt like.

"Never," he promised, features pinching in a brief sharp expression of deep sincerity. It was the one thing he tried not to do, ever. It was why he'd refused to fight Callisto - he'd shoved her away, rolled around in the dirt, but he hadn't swung. Hadn't fought her the way he knew how.

"Doesn't matter much now," he said, taking a deep breath and shifting on the wall, somehow settling their fingers together enough to interlace. He was bad at this but he appreciated how passionate Malcolm was in his defense. "I got the sense that her two sentence goodbye was a final one.."

Then a soft smile broke over his face, breaking away the storm cloud that had been brewing there. "But Tim say's she's had the baby. Named her Willa." He still had a possibility with her. For a real family like relationship that didn't leave him burnt and bruised and furious in his loneliness.

Malcolm's features shifted from concern to a warm, soft, genuine smile.

"Willa. That's beautiful. I'm so happy for you."

Even if it was sad that he was stuck here instead of with her, it was still wonderful news.

"I bet you'll be great with her. I bet you'll be an amazing dad."

She was out there. She existed. She was being taken care of. Those were the most basic things Raylan could ask for. Being part of her life would be a gift. A blessing, if he believed in those. Still, he hadn't asked Tim if he'd seen her yet. In person. At some months old. He was worried about the answer.

But Raylan's smile spread a little at Malcolm's opinion of the name.

"It'd fit in the holler and any city. Willa Givens." He was already smitten. Had been since he found out. "I hope I will," he continued with a genuine smile. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I'll find someone accepts her and the job and me." He looked over sidelong.

"You, the fountain of hope for everyone else."

Malcolm beamed at him.

"That's what you deserve, Raylan. That's the least you deserve." He squeezed Raylan's hand. "I hope I get to meet her some day. See which of your genes she got. Cleverness. Athleticism." He holds his free hand at the height of his head and then above it. "She'll probably grow up to be taller than me," he said with a light laugh.

He gave Malcolm a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He could say the lie, pretend he had the hope for it all and some part of him did but that part was getting smaller and smaller some days.

"She probably will but don't take that personally. With Ainsley next to you, I got a feelin' your family runs short. Frances and Helen were both 5'9 at least. She'll be tall. Unless Winona's genes take a few inches away from her." The smile twitched towards pained and simmered down to a faint tilt of his lips. He bet she was beautiful, Willa.

"I told Tim when he first got here that I didn't want spoilers. But the more I sit with it, the more I want to ask everythin' I can. Like I can.. extract an image of her outta his head or somethin'. I'm thinkin' about askin' him for spoilers anyway. Just to..." Just to see if he and Winona did get back together or not.

Raylan loved Malcolm, Henry, Tim. He did. And none of them got close to the hook that Winona had deep into him. He'd hung so much on them being together. He never thought it'd be over the way it had been.

"I don't see any harm in it. If knowing she's healthy and safe makes you feel better... if learning what you can helps you cope... I don't see how it can hurt." He looked up at Raylan with a charmed smile. "And it looks good on you," he informed him. "That unfettered love."

"You think?" he asked, features curling in Malcolm's direction for a long second before he shrugged. "I never wanted kids. Not until this one case.. then a yard fulla little Givens wasn't so bad."

He would have had a herd of children with her, if she had asked. But they'd been on the same page on that subject for so long, even one was.. pushing it.

"You ever thought about havin' kids?"

Malcolm huffed a self-conscious laugh.

“Me?” He shook his head. “No. I mean. Nobody is going to... want that. With me.” He took a breath. “Anyway, I’m probably not what anyone would call ‘dad material’, right? Without meds, I can barely take care of me,” he laughed awkwardly.

Raylan clucked. "As much as you care about people? C'mon. You'd be great. Shapin' a little person, cognizant of what they should and shouldn't be aware of at that age. You're too sweet to not be good with kids, I'm sure." His lips curled a little more.

"You know.. If you and I do come from the same world.. With Willa and all. She's.. It's a package deal." He knew he was betting against himself. He knew there was no way they were from the same world; Malcolm was right about Raylan around the whole topic. His balloon had been burst and now he couldn't reinflate it.

"Think you'd be able to handle that? That and an ex-wife?"

Malcolm hadn’t ruled it out, he and Raylan coming from the same world. It was possible. To hear Raylan even breathe the possibility lit something in his eyes as he looked up at him. He felt like he was holding something sacred and he was afraid to breathe or he might break it.

At the same time, Doc’s words still lingered in a corner of his mind. Maybe he figured the two of you can handle the scorn, a few threats, name-calling, unnecessary commentary, being pariahs. But his kid sure as hell can't. You can't ever be seen, with Raylan, in public, in Kentucky. Do you really think he thought that one out when he said he wanted you there?

“I could be part of your daughter’s life? You’d want that?” The part of his life Malcolm would be in and the part with his daughter and his job and his ex-wife. Together.

But where was he gonna fit you, between spending his nights sitting in his car outside a wanted man's house, arguing with his ex-not-ex-woman... thing, raising his kid, getting shot at, going back to the inn he's living out of where he can't refit the bed to suit what you'd need, probably drinking whiskey out of a plastic cup, waiting for the phone to ring to listen to someone else's voice? Where did you think you'd fit into all that?

“There’d be... space for me there?”

It was impossible to miss all the hope and slight terror in Malcolm's eyes as he looked up in response to that and it all made Raylan smile a warm crooked smile at him. They could pretend. For a little while.

"Anyone I would be wantin' to be with would be part'a her life. She's part of my life.. Or will be. I hope." His head tilted a little. Something about the way Malcolm asked about space sent up a flag in the back of his head.

"If you mean emotional space, plenty of it. Physical space is.. less plentiful but.. That's only while I'm in Kentucky. But dealin' with it all would be.. a lot. Winona is a lot and she won't take to this kinda.. self-discovery well." He could understand if dealing with what made up his life was too much. Honestly, he expected it to be too much for Malcolm. Yeah, Malcolm did a similar job but he worried and Raylan could imagine what that worry might turn into at home.

Malcolm was already waving his free hand to dismiss the 'a lot' before Raylan finished describing it. His family was 'a lot'.

"I can handle 'a lot'," he promised with no concern in his tone. "But... emotional space. Yeah. And... logistics, I guess. Like. Tim will be there, too. I haven't confirmed his suspicions but he didn't seem happy about it when he made the accusation. Are... are you going to tell people about us? If you don't want to, will he keep it a secret?"

Raylan nodded faintly at the waving off of it; there was no accurate way to convey how it was. Everything fell a little short anyway. Malcolm would have to experience it himself.

But the question posed was an amazingly difficult one and Raylan couldn't do anything other than shake his head. "I don't know. I'm not.. Tellin' anyone at home isn't wise. Tim's a gay man in rural Kentucky - he knows how to keep a secret. Mainly because breakin' it could ruin everythin'. Our Job, his general safety. Your safety.. No one is 'out' in Kentucky. It's not the place for it."

He was sure he didn't need to go into detail on that one - the crimes against those seen as Other in the south went just as deep.

“Well... then your wife can’t know about us, right? Her portion of the ‘a lot’ won’t be a factor.” He took a bite of eggs. “If nobody knows, then... I have to stay away from them. The people around you. Except maybe Tim. Except he thinks I’m annoying so he probably won’t hang out with us either.” Malcolm poked at his eggs thoughtfully. “You could transfer out of Kentucky. But I’m not sure that would change anything. I’m sure we’ll be able to make it work, wherever you need to be,” he concluded with a shrug and another forkful of eggs.

He felt weighted down by the guilt of it all. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. How was it fair to ask anyone to live like that? Winona would figure it out shortly once she laid eyes on them - it was hard to hide anything from her. It was bound to happen, her figuring it out.

"You deserver better than all that. Something.. where you don't gotta hide somethin' else. Where it ain't gonna be a fight of some kind."

“I don’t think you’re ready for that yet,” Malcolm said with a simple, understanding tone, without realizing he was misconstruing what Raylan meant. “Maybe in time, but we’ll see. It’s not the worst thing,” he promised.

It wasn’t being alone forever. In some ways, the secret room that was their private time together was like.... a different place. A magic place that belonged to only them. Raylan’s love was a high. Having a place in that secret room was a privilege. He felt special to see sides of Raylan he hid from most people. He felt special to be wanted beyond the bubble. Doc’s advice lingered in the back of his mind but Raylan’s assurances overrode them.

“Besides, you don’t want to stay in Kentucky forever.”

That hadn't been what Raylan meant but it spoke to Malcolm's sweetness that Raylan's comfort of being out was so accurately judged and considered. He wasn't ready for that, no. He didn't know if he'd ever find a place that made him comfortable enough to do so.

"Just til I handle Boyd. Once Boyd's in jail, I plan on goin' back to Miami. Beaches and views are better there, even if most of the state is a swamp." A better focus for their conversation than Raylan's status. "Food's good too."

"Maybe I can help you handle Boyd," Malcolm said with no small degree of excitement, leading forward in eagerness again. "And then we can leave."

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