062 » that moment of experience / part i

[villagemod]

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

Comments

Jeff Calhoun | Original

[bardish]

[ plotting post! not doing any open starters for this one, so hmu if you want something ]

Closed: Klaus @ The Boarding House

[bardish]

As he steps out of the record store (with a few new cassette tapes in his backpack, all from bands he'd never heard of before), Jeff can see that storm brewing on the horizon, and man, it looks like it's gonna be ugly. But it's not raining yet, so he should be fine, right? He figures he can make it back to the house before it gets really bad. Worst case? He gets caught up in the start of it, gets a little wet... No big deal.

But once the sky opens up, the rain comes down so hard, so heavy, so fast that Jeff's plans to make it back to 1308 Philips are cut short, even though he's not too far from the house. He's not gonna risk running around in circles and getting lost, not when the sky's pissing rain all over the place and he can't even see two feet ahead of himself.

"Shit shit shit!"

Jeff makes a beeline for the nearest door, shoving it open frantically so he can hurl himself into the safety of some nice, dry shelter and slam the door shut behind him.

Fuck. He's totally drenched.

[bestfuneralever]

Klaus has been hanging out inside since the storm hit. He didn't even bother going to the general store today, like he usually did. He kept enough of a store on things they need that he isn't too worried. So long as the electricity isn't knocked out, or if it does go down, it isn't for long, they'll be fine.

He's wandering by the front hall when the door flings open and slams shut. He blinks in surprise and spins on his heel. "Man, what're you doing out there in all that mess?" First rough glance, he thinks it's Raylan.

[bardish]

"Hey!" It's a startled greeting, as if he wasn't expecting to see anyone here. Startled, and a teeny, tiny bit embarrassed, since Jeff looks utterly pathetic, standing in the foyer in sopping wet clothes, a little puddle dripping onto the floor, at his feet. He just hopes his backpack kept its contents mostly dry; he's got precious cargo in there!

"Hi-- sorry-- I, ah, totally misjudged that fucking monsoon out there. Thought I could make it home, and instead..." He lifts his hands to mime the clouds parting and says, "Kabooooom."

Which is, evidently, Jeff's very accurate sound effect for 'thunder.'

"Do you... have any towels here?" He makes a face. "Stupid question. It's a house, of course you've got towels! More accurate question: can I use one?"

[bestfuneralever]

As soon as he starts talking, it clicks-- Not Raylan. This is- oh, shit, what's his name- "Oh, hey- Jeff, right?" He's pretty sure that was his name. Or Jack? No, that doesn't sound right. He laughs a little at the miming. "Yeah, it's pretty crazy out there. Par for the course for the weather around here."

"Yeah, yeah, hang on. I'll be right back." He disappears from the front hall for a few minutes and comes back with a towel in one hand and a t-shirt and pair of sweats in the other. "I'm guessing on the size, but we can find other stuff, if this won't work."

[bardish]

"Yeaaaah, that's me. Jeff." He smiles, and waves. "And you're Klaus, right? I remembered because I thought 'oh, like Klaus Nomi!' even though you don't look anything like him, and, ah..." He trails off before he can go into a total ramble. "Nice to meet you again."

And as soon as the other man returns with a towel and a set of dry clothes, Jeff's eyes light up with total gratitude.

"Ohhh, dude, thank you! You're a total life saver." He sets his backpack down and reaches for the towel first, scrubbing at his hair. "If it doesn't fit, we'll make it work." A beat. "I'll make it work. I guess trying on clothes isn't, like, a group activity."

[bestfuneralever]

"Iiii have no idea who that is," he admits with a laugh, "but I've been told I look like an extra from an Ingmar Bergman film before." he admits with a snort.

He's infectious, Klaus can't help the grin that spreads over his face at his reaction to such a simple thing. He's fuckin' adorable, it's rude. "Ohh, I dunno," he says in a near sing-song tone. "We could probably make it a group activity." He winks.

[bardish]

It's okay, Jeff couldn't pick anyone from an Ingmar Bergman movie out from lineup if his life depended on it, because he's totally uncultured swine whose idea of high art is Point Break.

(Because it's the greatest film ever made.)

But now it's Jeff's turn to laugh, and he shoots Klaus a crooked little smile. At least a little bit of light flirting is a quick way to lift his damp, soggy spirits. "Yeah? Everyone's so helpful here," he teases, before taking up the clothes to check the sizes. Should fit. Worst case, the legs will be too short, or the waist will be too big. It's usually one or the other. "Is there somewhere I can...?"

You know. Fling his wet clothes off and swap 'em out. Sure, he could do that right in the foyer, but that would probably be... super weird and impolite. Or exceptionally forward.

[bestfuneralever]

"Well, we figure we're all stuck here same as everyone else, and we're all we got." He shrugs a bit. "No point in bein' a dick about it." Or at least, that's the general consensus, and definitely the vibe of his tribe around here; there are some folks that are much more in the isolated lone-wolf category running amok.

Klaus would not mind, please feel free to change in front of him, Jeff. But in the name of modest, he nods and gestures. "Restroom's down the hall, on the right."

Closed: Parker @ Some Abandoned House

[bardish]

Stupid. This was a totally stupid plan! Jeff had really thought that this brief lull in the storm-- when the rain was, like, heavy, but not blindingly heavy-- would give him enough of a window of opportunity to go racing out of the boarding house and into the general direction of 1308 Philips Drive. After all, it's not like he's got any idea how long the storm's gonna last, and as much as he digs Klaus's company, he's got a kid to look after. Getting back to Athena is pretty much at the top of his list of priorities.

But then the rain comes down with some fucking renewed vigor, like it just chugged a couple of cans of Red Bull and it's raring to go, got its second wind, and so on...

Next thing he knows, he's wading through water so deep that it thoroughly soaks him from his feet to halfway up his shins, and suddenly this odd, irrational thought strikes him: what if there's a sewer gator loose in the waters. Like, yeah, he knows they're far from Florida or Louisiana or whatever, but if this town's totally insane and evil, what's stopping it from dropping some kind of aquatic predator on them? He'd never even see it coming.

So here he is, caught out in the middle of an almost-literal shit storm, and he's pretty sure he accidentally took a wrong turn and isn't even on Phillips Drive anymore. Fuck it, he's no good to Athena if he gets hopelessly lost out here and drowns, or gets eaten by a sewer gator, or somehow falls into that fucking chasm because he can't see a goddamn thing...

Jeff ducks into a house that seems-- at least from what he can see-- less rotted and dilapidated than the others. It's a little spooky, in that it's so eerily normal, like the family that lived here was just spirited away in the middle of an otherwise normal day... But Jeff tries to shake off all feelings of uneasiness as he makes a beeline for what seems to be the master bedroom, desperate for dry clothes.

A few minutes later, he's exploring the house, now dressed in a dry set of flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt advertising, like, a hardware store or something. Dad chic. So far, there's not a lot that catches his eye, and it feels kind of ghoulish, anyway, like he's totally Goldilocks-ing it, and the family's going to walk in any minute...

...but all trepidation vanishes as soon as he checks out a room that looks way too much like his own teenage bedroom. Clutter on the floor, band posters and magazine clippings on the walls...

"Whoa..."

And there, tucked away in a corner: a cheap starter guitar and a motherfucking amp.

You better believe he's plugging that baby in and tuning those strings.

[sharker]

The rain hasn't been too heavy in Parker's part of town, either, maybe because Eliot hasn't yet headed home and brought it all with him. Like Jeff, she's taken the opportunity to go out, though with less altruistic motives than his. There's a house she hasn't had a chance to check out yet, and now, when the rain is keeping everyone else indoors, seems like the perfect time to do so unobserved and uniterrupted.

Except neither of those end up happening, of course.

She's unknowingly retraced his steps, through the house and up to the master bedroom, and she's just starting a hopeful search for more jewelry when a noise makes her freeze in her tracks, blood momentarily running cold. A too-loud twang followed shortly by another, and another, and by the fourth she's relaxed slightly, realizing what it is she's hearing. Not an alarm announcing her presence. A guitar.

Part of her wants to just flee, but she remembers what Eliot had said about needing to stick together in this place. Besides, whoever's playing the guitar doesn't sound dangerous. If it turns out they are, there are plenty of nice stabby forks in the kitchen downstairs.

As silently as possible, she creeps out the door and down the hall, then carefully peeks her head into the next bedroom. There is someone there, totally rocking out and definitely (probably) not dangerous, and she just watches and listens for a moment before speaking up.

"Can you play Wonderwall?"

[bardish]

As soon as she speaks up, Jeff lets out a startled yelp of "Oh Jesus fuck!" and hugs the guitar to his chest in an act of pure instinct and reflex. It's hard to say what his instincts were actually going for, though. To use it as a shield? To protect it like a baby?

Who cares, doesn't matter! He relaxes as soon as he processes that the woman's like him: displaced, and not a ghost of some townie whose house he's trespassing in. Jeff's death-hug on the guitar loosens, and he lets out a breath of a laugh.

Hey, at least she didn't ask him to play Free Bird.

"Which one's that, again? Coldplay, right?"

He kids, he kids!

[sharker]

Oh, whoops. She winces when he jumps, shrinking back a little. Someday she'll learn not to sneak up on people.

Maybe.

Possibly.

But he gets over it quickly, and she slowly relaxes, cautiously creeping forward.

"I dunno. It's just what people say."

Could she identify Wonderwall if challenged? Possibly not. She looks at him, and the guitar, studying them both curiously.

"Do you live here?"

[bardish]

"Oh." Jeff looks down at himself, at the guitar and his dry, cozy outfit, and okay, he definitely looks more like a homebody than the looting intruder he is, so... "Yeeesss..."

Yeah, that wasn't convincing in the slightest. He sighs.

"No. I just felt weird, standing here, playing some dude's guitar, wearing what was probably his dad's clothes--" He gestures to his flannel pants and college tee. "--because that's weird, right? Like, it'd make more sense if I lived here! But I don't, I'm totally just here to steal this amp and take it back to my house-- which isn't even my house, it's just a house I share with a couple of US Marshals and my teenage apprentice!" Jeff groans, remembering that magic is always an iffy topic here, then adds: "Which is just... wizard shit, nevermind."

[sharker]

Parker listens to this impassioned confession silently, staring at him with a blank expression. But her eyebrows flick upwards in interest at steal, and when he mentions "wizard shit" her eyes go wide.

"You're a wizard thief? And a rock star?" Eliot's a country star. But this guy's stealing an amp, therefore: rock star. She hurries over, plopping herself on the bed to sit crosslegged in front of him. This might just be the coolest person she's ever met.

She leans closer.

"Are the US Marshals your security detail?"

[bardish]

Wait. She thinks he's a wizard thief and rock star? With US Marshal bodyguards? Jeff's eyes go a bit wide at the questions, watching Parker as she makes herself comfortable on the bed, and god, he wants so badly to be like 'YES TO ALL OF THE ABOVE!'

After all, it wouldn't totally be a lie. It's more like... truth-adjacent.

"I guess, in a way, I am? I mean, I am a wizard, and I'm here to steal things-- oh, and I totally recorded a couple of albums with my band, back in the day!" Like, twenty years ago. That counts for something, right? Jeff rubs the side of his neck and grimaces a little, before admitting, "But, I guess, in a more accurate and honest way... no. I'm just a high school teacher."

Optimistically, he adds, "Though I'm pretty sure the US Marshals are convinced I'll die without them, which is kind of like a security detail... And boy am I doing a lot of talking right now-- hi! I'm Jeff." He reaches out to offer a hand.

[sharker]

Parker listens intently and optimistically, but even she can't stop her disappointment as her initial impression is slowly dismantled one piece at a time. Not a rock star. And does just stealing things make you a thief, or is stealing just something that everyone has to do here?

He is a wizard, though. He hadn't denied that. She eyes his outstretched hand, hesitating.

"Are you going to turn me into a frog?"

Closed: Raylan @ 1308

[bardish]

Jeff's up early, a pot of coffee already set to brew as he works on putting together breakfast for the house. It's just pancakes. Nice and simple, just something to keep himself busy as he tries to keep himself from racing out of the house to burn up all his pent up, anxious energy.

He wants to go for a run. Scratch that, he fucking needs to go for a run. But can he go for a run? It's safe, right? Just follow the roads, avoid the fog, don't go into the woods... Sure, the sky looks a little iffy, but even if it opens up, it's not like a little rain has to stop him in his tracks. He's gone for runs in worse weather.

And it's been, like, days since he's properly worked out. He's going to lose his fucking mind if he doesn't do something about it soon.

But at least for now, breakfast is a fine distraction. It only gets depressing if he lets his mind wander from the task of measuring out the flour and sugar and whatever, and over to the adjacent memories nearby. Melody and her strawberry pancakes: no eggs, no dairy. They'd worked on the recipe together, making so many fucking mistakes that ended in countless rubbery pucks, before finally getting it juuuust right...

It makes him sad to think about, so he tries not to. And anyway, these pancakes are simpler. Classic pancakes, with a smattering of chocolate chips, if he can find any in the pantry...

He's got his head stuck in there, searching like a man on a mission, when he hears footsteps come into the kitchen. Without looking up to see who it is, he waves a hand.

"Hey! Hi! Good morning! Do we have any chocolate chips?"

[tinstar]

Early was the name of the game. Sleeping in wasn't something Raylan did a lot of with the way that fire chased him through his dreams every time he closed his eyes, but working on less than optimal sleep was normal for a Marshal. He could acclimate. Tim was an early riser too, so when he heard the noise from the kitchen, he automatically assumed that the Ranger had started cooking like always.

But padding in, he finds a different story and suddenly remembers - yeah. New person to see in the mornings. Thank god he wore his jeans and a ribbed undershirt around the house. Not that he doesn't have anything that Jeff specifically hasn't seen before. The thought weirds him out just in time for the hastily waved hand and greeting to hit him.

He really should have talked to the guy before now, maybe that woulda helped the lingering itch that made him wish he was fully dressed and possibly armed to deal with whatever cosmic joke this was.

"We're fresh out." He hadn't seen any, though he hadn't gone looking for that kinda stuff. "But you're in luck. We got a stash of candybars need to be eaten, assuming you're willin' to take the risk. There coffee?"

The question was rhetorical, but it let him come around the counter smoothly to pull open a cabinet two doors down and dig through to pull out a little sandwich bag with a couple Hersey's chocolate bars that was held out towards Jeff.

[bardish]

You know what's a major mindfuck? Asking a question, and getting an answer from your own voice. Jeff startles slightly when Raylan speaks, taking a moment to acclimate, again, to the fact of their shared... uh, everything, before he straightens up and looks back at his double with a smile that's only slightly weird and antsy.

It's not as if Jeff's been going out of his way to bond with Raylan, either, after all. A part of him wants to, feels this crazy impulse to cling to him and learn everything there is to learn about him. Another part of him wants to keep some distance and avoid the uncanny strangeness and uninvited (yet unavoidable) comparisons that Raylan Givens conjures up in his head.

"Yeah. Coffee should be ready." He takes the chocolate bars with a grateful smile, and moves back to the mixing bowl.

"Um. Do you... eat breakfast?" The way he says it, it sounds almost like DO YOU EAT FOOD? He winces as he gets to breaking up one of the chocolate bars. "I mean. Do you want any? I don't like to eat much in the morning, but Mel always--" He stops himself, frowning slightly, before seeming to put all his attention on the mixing bowl. "I dunno. Kids like pancakes, so I thought Athena might like this."

[tinstar]

It made him feel better that this all obviously weirded Jeff the fuck out too, however strange it was to see his face emote like that, that the man wasn't just peachy with the fact that they were existing together in the same world space, much less the same house. Misery loves company.

Pulling down a cup for himself, Raylan poured out some coffee and looked over with an amused curl of his features at the way the question was posed. Jeff's adjustment saved him from the 'Yeah, I've had it once or twice' playfully sarcastic answer that sat on the tip of his tongue. Settling the pot back, Raylan turned, crooked hips leaning on the counter as he crossed one arm over his chest, hand attaching to his bicep as he took a drink before answering.

"Most important meal of the day, or so I was told as a kid. Get fuel into the body before you go out and put any of it to work. I tend to go eggs and hashbrowns if it's available but all we got here is eggs and bacon. Tell you what, I'm sorely missin' a Denny's.." AKA Feed him, Seymore. He watched Jeff beat at the batter for a half second before continuing.

"You make breakfast a lot for Mel? Athena showed us a picture of you guys. At a.. park or somethin'." They looked happy, though Raylan wouldn't say that out loud. Felt like it'd be a knife in the wound, considering.

[bardish]

"So we've got eggs, bacon, and now pancakes here..." Jeff leans his back against the counter, facing Raylan with brows lifted and a faint smile on his face as he holds his hands up to frame some imaginary plate, like picture this. "I'm seeing a Denny's Grand Slam on the horizon!"

He grins a little, taking up the bowl and mixing with some renewed sense of purpose, though the smile dims back into faintness as he thinks about his daughter.

"On the weekends. That's our time to go all out for breakfast. Weekdays are a little more, like, fend for yourself..." He says it fondly, though. And his sadness actually fades a little when Raylan mentions that picture, because Jeff can figure out just which park he's talking about. His eyes light up. "Oh! Dinosaur Land! That place was awesome! What was less awesome was when the girls bought a whoooole fucking bag of these little tiny plastic dinosaurs-- you remember those, right? From when we were kids?" Which, he means 'we' in the 'because we're about the same age' sense, though he realizes belatedly that it could also be interpreted as some kind of shared childhood that they would've had as... twins or something?

Fuck, everything's so confusing with a face twin.

"Anyway, um. Yeah... They bought a whole bag of them at the gift shop and hid a bunch of dinosaurs all over the house. I was finding those fucking things everywhere for like three months... There was a brontosaurus in my birkenstocks."

[tinstar]

"Alls we're missin' is biscuits and gravy," Raylan agreed, lips crooking in a smile that was wholly unlike Jeff's. Man's a pleaser, got something out of fulfilling things for other people, if Raylan had to start a jacket on him.

"Between jobs and schoolin', that sounds about right," Raylan interjected, tone sweet enough for it. He didn't begrudge the fact that Jeff had a life; that would be the height of an arrogance that was far far beyond the pragmatic and reasonable Marshal. Too used to echoing what was given to him, Raylan's smile spread a little at the way Jeff talked about it, nodding at the question. He'd had a few of those kinda toys, believe it or not.

It was clear Jeff loved them. Not a bad look, really.

Birkenstocks. Raylan snorted and glanced down at Jeff's feet. "Birkenstocks. huh? Couldn't catch a soul dead in Kentucky wearin' that kinda get up. Largely cause of our snakes, I imagine. There a wife in the picture?"

He didn't ask if that was too far, being a divorcee himself, he knew it was a question men like them tended to get. Especially when there was a kid involved.

[bardish]

Biscuits and gravy. Now that sounds hearty and Southern, the kind of food Jeff doesn't have much of a connection to, but he hums in wistful agreement all the same. There's something about making a big breakfast for everyone that just sounds nice right now. Comforting, even if his appetite's been touch and go (and more 'go' than 'touch'-- wait, does that make sense?) since waking up here.

Hence the pancakes, he supposes.

He lets out a soft laugh at the remark on the birkenstocks, and shrugs a shoulder in concession. Yeah, he knows they've got a rep as, like, dorky dad fashion, but they're comfortable! And practical! And a touch classier than his flip flops, so that's got to count for something, right?

"I've probably worn a lot of things people wouldn't be caught dead wearing in Kentucky over the years," he admits. See: some of the outfits he'd wear on stage, back in his Nervous Tix days. After a beat, he adds, "Okay, admittedly I don't know what people in Kentucky like to wear." He points the whisk at Raylan. "Hats like yours?"

As for the question...

"And, ah... There was. Mel's mom-- Lisa? Doctor Miller." Even with the joking formality, he says her name with a fondness that suggests there's no hard feelings... and also no regret, either. There's worse things than an amicable divorce and being pals with your ex. "We split up when Mel was five. Just, ah... wanted different things. What about you? Is there a Mrs. Givens?"

[tinstar]

Wait until Jeff got wind of Tim's grits. Grits were never Raylan's favorite, but he was a good Southern boy, so he ate them without complaint. They weren't bad, but it wasn't cream of wheat or oatmeal. But big breakfasts, full tables for it was a idea Raylan would like to subscribe to, having had a few full table meals here already. Nice to pretend he had a family that gave a shit, for a little while.

Raylan was a man who would sport flipflops, given the right circumstance but birkenstocks were out of the question. It completely had to do with the rest of the outfit that came with it. Polo shirts and khakis. Ew.

The Marshal lifted amused eyebrows at the pointed whisk, and shook his head. "Not where I'm from, no. Mining town, so it's all mostly jeans and shitty t-shirts unless you're goin' to Church, where you put on your very best button up. The hat.. I found it in a shop one day and tried it on." He shrugged, smirking. "It fit."

His head tilted a little as Jeff answered the harder question, nodding slightly at the answer. Just wanted different things. He wondered if the break had been that cleanly put or if it had been a mess. It wasn't his business either way, but wonder he did. Still, the return question got a pained, fake little pull of his smile.

"Use to be. For a handful of years. Now she's Mrs. Hawkings and once her divorce is final, she'll probably go back to her maiden name. She's a court reporter." And god it go so much more complicated from there. They'd be here forever if he went through all of it and he didn't want Jeff's pity. He also didn't want to be totally sober if he talked about it. That made everything harder somehow.

"Hadn't seen her for 6 years after I got sent divorce papers until I got reassigned to the Lexington Office. Wasn't any kids durin' the marriage but.. Tim says I got a little girl now, 'bout a year old."