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

— 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.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Malcolm looked at the invitation on the window for what was probably much too long. Even though the bottom said ‘Malcolm, that means you’, there had been a tacit agreement that he could go there in the night if he needed to see Raylan, but he was to avoid all other doors and the breakfast table. He was to keep the peace by giving 1308 its space.

Through the window that the invite was taped to, he saw Doc head over. Doc was, at the very least, a friendly face for Malcolm. Then Raylan arrived home. He agreed to go over with Malcolm. That made it seem... a lot more welcoming.

In Doc’s wake, they headed over, Malcolm carrying the chess set he’d fashioned with Neal by repurposing a checkers set. He knocked on the frame of the open front door as they arrived, to announce their presence before they stepped inside.

Edited 2021-05-17 04:14 (UTC)

Raylan was deeply surprised to see the invitation, much less it being extended to Malcolm and he blinked over at the house he thought he had reclaimed for himself, some part of him grateful that there were people there willing to put life in the place. But this was progress. A gesture he hoped came from Tim.

But of course he was willing to go over with Malcolm and asking after Ainsley, Raylan went with him. "You don't have to do that," Raylan mutters softly. The statement of it still being his house was bitten back and he put on a friendly smile as he stepped into the room and clucked at the mess.

"I suppose we should be glad we don't have any real money here otherwise it looks like someone's getting cleaned out," he said to the board game with a broad smile.

When Raylan pointed out he didn't have to knock, Malcolm huffed a laugh at himself. He was with the head of the household. He just... felt like an outsider in Raylan's People Version Two and a barely tolerated one at that. It had, in the moment, felt like it was fair to warn them he'd arrived.

He looks around, setting his chess set down on an end table, taking in the Candyland scene.

Athena had seen Malcolm's eating habits but Tim hadn't. He didn't head towards the kitchen. The smell of grilled cheese didn't make him hungry. Nothing did. He found the arm of a chair to perch on to watch the game and see how it was played.

In the spirit of total transparency, the invitation had been Athena's idea and execution. Tim simply hadn't argued against the idea.

The sniper was in the kitchen using a very old, dull can opener to get into the little cans of tomato soup like product. Though he looked distracted, his ears were letting him track the activity coming into the house and he was currently smirking at Klaus explaining Candyland to Doc.

He noted the voices of Raylan and Malcolm, but shouted out towards the room where Candyland was set up.

"There will be no clothes off anything in this house!"

Malcolm heard him shout and, curiously, made his way to lean in the doorway. The last time he'd seen Tim, he'd left him at the top of the lighthouse. It was good to know he made it down.

"You invited Klaus," Malcolm pointed out lightly. "There may be some inappropriate nudity. I'm sure he read you the disclaimer," he joked.

"I didn't invite anyone," Tim clarified. "I thought it would be a nice thing to welcome Jeff with some food and board games. Then Athena happened, and it seemed best to leave the door open."

Tim hadn't gone out looking for people specifically. He just hadn't protested when things started getting a larger bit by bit.

I didn’t invite anyone. Come to think of it, the invite was in the same handwriting as the note she’d begun to scribble for Raylan the morning after he first met her.

“Ah.”

He glances around and then gestures to the cans.

“Do you need help with that?”

Malcolm gets the trademarked Tim Gutterson Look.

But not more than two seconds after he shot him the look, Tim lifts his arm with the can opener (now with can lid) attached, pointing towards a cupboard.

"There's some instant ice tea mix in there. See if you can find a pitcher and make some up." He doesn't bother to make it a question, because he suspects that Malcolm will be okay with being given a helpful task.

Malcolm opened his mouth at the look, then closed it, about to just... back right back out of the kitchen doorway when Tim pointed to the cupboard. He was relieved to have a task.

He stepped over to the cupboard and took down the iced tea mix, then went through a couple of others until he found a plastic pitcher. And it was good that it was plastic, because he promptly dropped it on the floor with a clatter. He winced and picked it up, bringing it to the sink to wash.

Though it probably looked like nothing, the younger marshal felt as if he practically jumped out of his skin in response to the clattering. He turned quickly, ensuring that Malcolm hadn't broken anything, including himself, and then turned back to the stove.

It was time to start adding all the cans of condensed soup to a pot. He'd wait until Malcolm was done at the sink before adding the water.

"You don't have to knock," he broke the silence with a direct to the point statement. "This is Raylan's house."

Malcolm nodded.

"Raylan pointed that out. But. This is Raylan's other house, where the people who don't eat dinner at his first house because I live there live. It seems like a reasonable courtesy for me, in particular, to knock," Malcolm pointed out just as bluntly.

He scooped tea powder into the pitcher.

Tim paused and turned, looking bemused.

"Because we don't eat dinner together?"

"It's not about eating dinner. I barely eat at all. It's about there being two dinner tables and Raylan has to decide which one to attend because there can't be one dinner table, because of me," Malcolm points out. "It's Raylan's house, this house. But I don't live here."

The Ranger was quiet for a couple of minutes as he unpacked everything that came with Malcolm's statement. There were personal insecurities he'd have to deal with later, so he shelved those and turned his focus on Raylan.

"Think Raylan would like to avoid sounding like a man with multiple families," Tim remarked. "These houses are Raylan's, and he has extended his hospitality to a host of us. That hospitality means you come an' go as you please, Malcolm."

Malcolm fills the jug with water and finds a wooden spoon to stir with.

“Good fences make good neighbours, Tim. I don’t want to cause problems for Raylan. He deals with enough.”

"You don't cause problems for Raylan, Malcolm." The Ranger said in a low but direct tone. "Just, stop knocking alright?"

Malcolm looks over at him, watching him for a moment, then turns back to stirring.

"Okay."

He always feels like there's data that would clear up all the things that Tim says, but he's not allowed to have it.

"So was all this Athena's idea, then?"

"Team effort," he answered, turning back to the pot of soup he was stirring. "I T-ed up the initial idea, but Athena had a lot of good input."

“Like inviting people?” Malcolm suggests.

He puts the spoon in the sink and goes to the freezer to retrieve a handful of ice and throw it in.

Well.

When you put it like that?

"Yeah."

He puts the pitcher in the fridge.

“What else needs done?”

"You can start putting butter on the bread," Tim had the response ready to go, even though he could easily manage from here. He recognized a bleed of nervous anxiety when he saw one.

"Two pats, try to space them out diagonally from each other."

Malcolm follows the instructions, but also notes something about them.

“You’re very fastidious. Though maybe you just recognize that I need precise instructions for food related tasks.”

"The Army is responsible for the general fastidiousness," Tim corrected as he left the soup to start heating and moved to start opening and stacking plastic cheese slices. Not an arduous task, unless the cellophane sleeves were being difficult.

"The instructions for the butter come from years of failed attempts and practice to do better."

“I’ve never had a grilled cheese sandwich,” Malcolm tells him, carefully buttering.

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