villagelogs | 062 » that moment of experience / part i

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062 » that moment of experience / part i

WHO: Everyone.
WHERE: Eastern/Central/Southern/Western Mathias
WHEN: Day 062
WHAT: A storm rains destruction upon the town.
WARNINGS: (PM this account to have a warning added!)
NOTES: Plotting post over here! Part II details are below.

RECOMMENDED ♫ Deadly Avenger "Creeper"

DAY 062
THAT MOMENT OF EXPERIENCE
“A story has no beginning or end: arbitrarily one
chooses that moment of experience from which to
look back or from which to look ahead.”
— Graham Greene
The day begins like any other might. The clouds occasionally part to give glimpses of the sun, offering a bit of hope that the hours might pass without incident. It is a hope that is soon dashed, however, for midday brings with it a suddenly darkening sky. Those near the beach will be able to see the ocean churning as all light seems to be bled from the day, the sky darkening into a purplish-black more quickly than is natural, the process taking a mere ten minutes from start to finish.

And then it begins.

The rain is so heavy and pouring so fast that the ground cannot take it all in, sending rivers down streets and leaving lawns as lakes. The winds blow in gusts so strong that they could knock someone over, and the lightning that arcs brightly through the sky is immediately followed by thunder that shakes the town to its core, the tremors almost reminiscent of the earthquakes that plagued the town only days ago.

For some, the storm will be another nuisance of mother nature, forcing them to remain wherever they were before its sudden approach. But for others, it will be far more than that, for this storm is seeking revenge on those who sought to destroy the town. Destruction will rain down and it will not stop until its vengeance is satisfied.

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. If nothing else, the cowboys' homemade moonshine should do the trick.

ABOUT THE STORM
The storm will begin at midday and last until late into the night, only calming in the early hours of the morning. The heavy rain will flood the streets, though it will not be enough to flood the buildings themselves (except as noted below), and the winds and thunder will shake the town with such strength that it will almost seem as if the town is trying to tear itself apart.

But this is not a simple storm. For those residents who took part in any way in the destruction of the Town Hall, History Museum, or Stoker Park house, they will find the storm will destroy their shelter in some fashion. This can include broken windows, caved-in roofs, flooding from the rain, or even lightning striking the building. The details are up to player choice but something will be damaged by the storm.

— All damage to buildings will be repaired by the dawn of the following day as if it never happened at all. There is no way to witness this process taking place.
— If a resident is sheltering in a shared living space with others who did not take part in the destruction of the town, you may choose to have only your character's section of that location damaged. However...
— The storm's focus will follow the resident if they move to another area or location, meaning that the new location will also suffer damage in some way.
— Only those who took part in the town destruction in some way will be targeted by the storm, but innocent bystanders can be caught up in the situation as well.

CONDITIONS UPDATE

— 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.

— DISAPPEARANCES continue! Ellie has vanished while others have returned.

— ALCOHOL supplies have run dry, save for any dregs that have been squirreled away by individual residents. Moonshine can still be acquired by those in desperate need.

OOC NOTES

— NEW MAP Thanks so much to Scy for this amazing new map of Mathias!

— PROJECT HELP Your mod needs help with some projects!

— PART II The next part of the log series will be have characters divided up (by OOC choice, not IC) into groups, so be sure to sign up for one asap. Anyone who doesn't make the deadline will be automatically assigned to an available spot.

— 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. IC events are also helpful to know about in advance so they can be included in the log write-ups.

— 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. (All outstanding matters will be taken care of in the next few days!)

navigation | faq | locations | report updates

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Malcolm glances at the stairs. He hasn’t been up there yet, but it sounds like everyone is fine. Except maybe Raylan; Malcolm doesn’t see his boots. But Doc definitely isn’t fine, so he’ll put that concern away for later as he follows Doc to the garage with his crate. He tries to keep his charmed smile at the retrieval of the snowglobe behind Doc’s back. The gunslinger hadn’t let himself take it in the first place and had moved it from the mantel to his bedroom when nobody was around. It wouldn’t do, apparently, to draw attention to him finding a crumb of enjoyment in something frivolous.

“The main floor is already flooding. If we don’t intend to take a fridge upstairs, we can probably just... not worry about the refrigerated goods. Save the non-perishables and see what’s left in the morning of everything else.”

Doc doesn't want to admit that he doesn't have the energy in him to move a fridge anywhere, much as he likes keeping himself busy. He averts his gaze as a half dozen excuses float on by before he settles on one.

"Ain't any point saving a fridge if there's no plates or microwave, pot or stove to go with." That'll do. He'll bring a crate of food upstairs that can be eaten straight out of the can - creamed corn and baked beans and the like. And of course, all the moonshine, because he's not sure of the state of 1307 and whether their rig will survive the flood. They'll need to save as many bottles as they can. Doc won't be the only one determined to make it out of this flood not sober.

Doc finishes Malcolm's whiskey on his way through the kitchen and up the stairs, dragging some water with him into Malcolm's room, finding an unintrusive corner to stash the emergency moonshine and their canned rations.

Malcolm sets his crate down next to Doc’s, turning to look at him, unconcerned about the water.

“Want me to go get you a change of clothes while you run the bath?”

He nods with his head partially turned to Malcolm before trying to cut the neatest path to the bathroom. He's not even certain hot water will come out of the tap but he'll just have to soak in cold water to get some of the mud and silt off regardless.

He still has some clothes in his old room, which is now Negan's, in the wardrobe. Where he's kept the parenting books and the grey teddy bear he took from the toy shop. Had Malcolm not offered, he would have rather tried to squeeze himself in Raylan's clothes than gone wandering in there poking his head around.

Wet clothes flop to the bathroom floor and Doc leaves the door ajar. Cowboy intervention might be required if he overhears any commotion, much as he would rather sit alone in lukewarm foamy water. No rest for the wicked around these parts, even come hell and high water.

Malcolm slips into the bathroom, setting the clothes on the counter, then sitting with his back against the tub.

"You know, I was in the tunnels with Callisto before I came back here - her house collapsed - and they seemed pretty safe if things get really bad. Environment-wise."

Doc runs wet hands through his hair a few times. He hasn't cut it since he got here, and it's gotten a little thicker, a little longer. There's not much by way of modesty on display although most of him is submerged anyway, save for most of his arms, anything above the nipples and two curved tips of his knees.

"They didn't get flooded?" he asks quietly. He's not willing to seek refuge in the tunnels. The only reason he went down there was because Raylan wanted to go. And the only nice thing to have come out of his tunnel experience was the groping and the kissing in the dark. Where it led to, of course.

"You should take the others and go, if there's no other choice." He will find another way. He will make his own way, as he always had.

Malcolm is shaking his head to confirm they didn’t flood when Doc issues his instructions, making Malcolm look sharply at him over his shoulder.

“Nobody will want to just... leave you,” he told Doc as though that were an obvious fact. “All for one or something.” He’s been reading a lot of Dumas in his downtime. He half turns to reach over and thread his fingers through the damp ends of Doc’s hair. “I can cut it for you, if you want. After the storm. Raylan wants me to cut his.”

"I'll be dandy right here in this tub," he jokes with a mirthless little smile. It's probably need outriggers at the very least before he can row himself anywhere.

Doc's shoulders rise for about half a second at the unexpected touching of his hair, and a slow breath out gets him relaxed again.

"Are you going to give me a city boy haircut?" he asks. It's actually quite soothing, having someone ruffle or card through his hair. Puts him in a bit of a relaxed little lull.

"I wouldn't look distinguished, with short hair and no moustache. Even if I would blend in better with you all."

Malcolm laughs. “I was just going to trim it up the way it was when I got here,” he remarks, threading his fingers through the strands again. “Unless you want something different. I’d never shave the moustache, though. What a scandalous suggestion.”

No one's going to recognise Doc without his hat once he cuts his hair short or loses his moustache. He's not sure whether that's a bad thing, truth be told - it feels like a bad thing for now. Not to mention the work involved in keeping that New York city boy gravity-defying hairstyle.

"You could grow one out yourself," Doc muses, scrubbing a strange dark smear he knows not the origins of off his forearm. An appallingly low number of men in Mathias are sporting a formidable moustache. Times have certainly changed.

"Yeah? You think it would make me look more manly?" he asked, threading his finger through Doc's hair again. It was just as comforting for him, that motion. "Get me in touch with my rugged self?"

"I have had a clean shave before. It just ain't sommin' you can get to with a straight razor on your own. You look just fine without one," Doc reassures with a calm air of confidence as he reclines a little, relaxing against Malcolm's touch. Admittedly, some manliness surely comes from the moustache, however he would look aside, but he doesn't need to look a certain way to showcase that inner strength and resilience he has.

"But if it would make you feel more ready to take on the world then I 'on't see why not."

"Maybe I should grow my hair out, too," he says, threading his fingers through the length of Doc's hair. "Like. This long."

As Malcolm's hand ventures closer to Doc's off switch on the nape of his neck, his knees sink back under the water and he slumps a little deeper into the tub.

"Maybe you... would not have to..." What were they talking about again? Oh, right. Hair. Masculinity. And all that. "...ever trim it again before we go." They're still keen on leaving Mathias. Aren't they? Seems like she doesn't want them here either, trying to flush them out like this.

Doc tips his head to one side, giving Malcolm's hand more space to roam.

Malcolm is not always keen to leave Mathias. She’s a cruel mistress, but he’s never had this many friends. Real friends.

He smiles softly as Doc tilts his head and lets him run his finger through a wider swath of his hair.

“Negan said he knows a man at home that looks just like me, except with long hair and a beard. He called me ‘Jesus’, the first time we met. I don’t think he meant the Biblical one, though at the time I thought he was just cursing.”

Edited 2021-06-02 21:24 (UTC)

Doc just scoffs at that. "Don't listen to him. He's full of shit," he quips disparagingly. For someone who very much practices 'if you have nothing good to say, don't say anything', he seems very comfortable making exceptions for Negan.

"Of course he would have described 'Jesus' like the biblical figure. Probably made a crude joke of it, too." Luckily for him, he's got Ainsley to tear him apart. Gives him a break from all that bitter bickering and nagging and arguing he gets into with Doc on the regular.

Malcolm huffs a laugh. “He said this Jesus guy who looks like me is a crafty little ninja who probably wants to kill him,” he points out. “Doesn’t that smack of the truth?” he jokes, fingers threading through Doc’s hair again.

"Depends if you're feeling particularly murderous," Doc jokes back. He's clearly not too fazed by the prospect, or he won't be letting Malcolm... pat and scratch him. Negan has a knack for antagonising the hell out of people, on top of whatever's hounding him that's got that shadow of guilt hanging over him. Doc isn't surprised at all if Negan ever told him he's not particularly popular back home.

"We're only keeping him because you can tolerate him," Doc gripes as though Malcolm had picked up an unwanted pet and Cowboy Dad has to put up with it. Doc doesn't care that Negan doesn't want in on Malcolm duty. He thinks there are enough volunteers, and Malcolm hasn't told him otherwise. Negan is welcome to hang around just as long as he doesn't antagonise the hell out of Malcolm either.

Malcolm grins. “Well, the popular opinion after I punched his face was that he could have beat me into paste for it,” he concedes. “And instead he made me soup and told me we were making him soft. So I think we should keep him.”

Night shift isn’t for everybody. At home, it isn’t for anybody. Malcolm is grateful for the volunteers; he doesn’t blame anyone who doesn’t want to do it.

For a man who's possibly getting on in his years, Negan still would have a mean right hook and Doc doesn't doubt that for a second. He's come fairly close to trading blows with Negan but he seems to know when to back off at least which has helped keep their tenuous acquaintanceship afloat somewhat.

"I am inclined to agree." Mathias would have made them hard were it not for these people making them soft. They can't go back home like this.

"He doesn't have much to return to, from the sounds of it. Though with all this water coming in maybe we don't have much to stay for." The bath water is starting to cool down and it is only exhaustion that's keeping him sitting where he is. Exhaustion and Malcolm's soothing touch lulling him into a comfort where he can let his guard down a little, let the worry of the flood and the people still unaccounted for fall away to the periphery.

“We still have the people,” Malcolm points out, fingers carding through his hair again. “If we have to, we’ll gather them all up and build a tent out of blankets and paint ‘1306’ on the side of it,” he proposes lightly. His fingers skim the water as he gets through Doc’s hair and he looks endeared. “The water is getting cold. Do you want to get out?”

Not really, no, but eventually the water will be uncomfortably cold and he'll probably want to get out before then. If they don't get flooded first.

"You seemed... morally opposed to camping," Doc points out, as he moves, slowly, with some reluctance, scrubbing his face and resting his elbows on his mostly submerged knees.

"So am I to take it that you will be taking me to bed, Jesus?" he asks, sounding just a little too tired to be playful but the teasing is buried somewhere in there if Malcolm looks hard enough.

Malcolm smiles broadly, reaching up to card his fingers through Doc’s hair one more time before turning to grab him a towel.

“I’ll be putting you to bed in my room,” he says. “And when everyone gets home safe, I’ll join you. Maybe you’ll get more than three uninterrupted hours, depending how long Raylan dawdles in the storm.”

Once the towel is fetched, it is Doc's cue to pull the plug and remove himself from the tub of soapy water. The moment for self-consciousness has already come and long gone - Malcolm knows where the door is if he's mortified, offended, or some combination of both by such a boorish display of bare cowboy butt - so he rinses himself off without fanfare under the shower for half a minute before taking the towel.

"You're not goin' out there, are you?" Short of simply losing consciousness from sheer exhaustion, there's no way Doc would find any rest if he's alone in a bed where the house is missing some folks.

Malcolm shakes his head.

"No. I'm going to see who's actually here and then wait downstairs for the rest. If something happens, I'll come get you up." As Doc finishes toweling off, he hands him clothes from the dry clothes pile. "I haven't see Raylan since this started. He might be sheltering somewhere. But he'll come home."

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