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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The fraction of a turn his head had taken turned back towards the sniper, dark eyes trying to see what he could see in the darkness that was only illuminated by the random crack of lighting that filled the mouth of the tunnel they were hiding in with light.

"They will give a shit about you too, if you let them," he found himself saying. "If you take down even half a wall." Somehow, he doubted Tim was willing, but he could hope. He thought it might do the man some good. To figure out how to human with the Feeling creatures that Raylan had pulled into his orbit.

"But we got a shower with a lock. Clothes that'll fit you for once you're out. Fire to warm yourself by. I'll probably take my chair, nearby. Been a few weeks since I've slept in it." Sleeping in the living room meant sleeping in the center of the house, the first to sound an alarm if needed - where he belonged.

The darkness of the tunnel worked to his advantage when Tim cast a look of disbelief towards the other man. He figured the likelihood of Raylan sleeping in a chair was slim to none, but he was going to let Malcolm charge up that particular hill.

But first.

"I really wish someone would explain to me what these 'walls' are about. You're now the second person to accuse me of having up walls. I honestly do not understand what you're talking about?"

Raylan gave him a look in return that was significantly less effective in the parley light granted and shook his head, sending a fresh splatter of water that was still waterlogging his salt and pepper hair. He had no skill for this kind of elaboration.

"Ignore the wall then." The sentiment stood, even if the metaphor didn't. Sow a seed, raise a garden. "I'll take your trying to make friends with Callisto as a progress. Who else accused you of bein' a human bein'? Should I punch them out?"

"Let's go back to these walls," Tim tried to guide the conversation back. "Malcolm said the same thing when we were talking in the kitchen last night. Now you're bringing it up so there is obviously some sort of measure I am not meeting."

"Let's focus instead on the part of what I said that was important, the letting them care about you if you let them; it's got nothin' to do with imaginary measures to stack up against."

Raylan was trying very hard to keep this in the strict lines of concern. Tim wasn't doing something wrong, wasn't broken, he was just guarded for many good reasons.

"I-. There's no one for you to talk to at home, by and large and I get why. It's not the case here. You could have.. friends. Relationships with people that aren't your co-worker.. or your lover." Is that what he was? It felt better than Friends with Benefits.

Did Raylan hear the little fizzing sound of a fuse blowing in Tim's brain? Maybe smell the ozone as his brain went into overdrive and then threw a rod straight into the engine block.

He made a couple noises, half spoken words that were bitten off before all the syllables made it from his throat. His hold on Raylan never loosened but Tim went silent for more than a few minutes as his brain tried to process what he heard. It put him on unstable ground that felt like sand slipping out from under his feet, even as he tried to gain purchase to form a response.

It was too much, too fast. He could barely get his head around what it meant to have a relationship with Raylan, someone he knew and trusted. But was this Raylan's way of telling him that he needed to give the older man space? Every time Tim tried to unwind the knot of uncertainty suddenly stuck to the inside of his skull, it seemed to become all the more sticky.

Raylan probably felt him take a breath, try again to start in on words but again they died before they could even clear his throat.

"Hey," he muttered, pulling his hand from Tim's arm to slip it along the sniper's jaw, pulling their faces to rest evenly together, side to side. They sat there for a long few moments before Raylan turned to press a kiss against his cheek.

He knew this wasn't easy. People weren't easy and the situation here made it harder by a hundred fold. He knew from experience how hard it could be on their own, how important people were. Tim needed people when his person wasn't there, for whatever reason.

"I don't want you to be alone and sufferin' the weight when somethin' happens to me here. Tim-" Raylan's mouth turned and whispered into the sniper's ear, words just for him and no one else, ending the secret with "-and I don't want you to hurt more."

Despite his internal confusion, there was no resistance when Raylan drew him to rest cheek against cheek. If anything the sniper nuzzled as close as possible, seeking this physical comfort when so often he avoided even brief contact. The kiss earned one of those soft noises, before Tim went still as he listened.

It wasn't just the words shared with him that struck deep, but also the trust that came with them. Did Raylan feel a drip of wet against his cheek? It was just water out of Tim's hair, totally inconsequential that this drip was warm. Two cautiously deep, calming breaths moved through the younger marshal and he turned to lay his head against Raylan's broad shoulder.

"I was in the shit, before I was nineteen." He began softly, well aware that Raylan knew this but this would be the first time it came directly from Tim. "You had to build a persona; someone hard, capable, tough and that persona has to be impenetrable or you will not survive over there. I was over there for seven years, Raylan. Living in this persona for almost a decade. I'd only been home for two years by the time we met."

Ignore the drips of warm moisture, it's just ... water out of his hair that warmed by his skin.

"When I first arrived and we were squabbling, there are words I said to you that I regret. I am sorry that I hurt you," brief tangent that included a soft kiss to Raylan's shoulder before Tim continued. "I mentioned that there are areas of my PTSD that I haven't even begun to address because I don't feel ready. Trying to tear down that persona was one of those areas."

He was cold and shivering. Not coming down from a hard shock (falling) and cracking emotionally and shaking with tears.

"I've started with you because I ..." Raylan knew, Tim had already said it. "And I trust you to keep me safe while I work this shit out. It's like being a damn soft shell crab." Brief break for levity. "I am trying with others but it's a slow process. Maybe too slow for this place, I don't know but I am tryin'. Giving Malcolm things to do in the kitchen the other night, that was me tryin'."

It hadn't been received in the way he had intended it but he had genuinely been trying.

The way Tim pressed against him, trusted him to hold him this close was part of the reason that Raylan was able to say what he had, part of the reason they'd gotten as far as they had. He didn't take this lightly, the way Tim had peeled back layers of himself for Raylan's acceptance, for Raylan's understanding and love and protection from the worst parts of his own head. An effective distraction, but no solution. That would only come from Tim himself.

Raylan spread his hands around Tim's shoulders, rubbing one hand up and down his back to beat off the chill that had settled there as the sniper took his moment to breathe. For a long second before Tim started talking, Raylan was afraid he was going to say that he couldn't do this. That Raylan and opening himself was too much, that it was a risk to high for him to take. Raylan wouldn't have blamed him.

Seven years. That was nearly half his life at that point. Far too early to be sending young men to war, but war and it's trauma's on young men were well documented throughout history. This wasn't anything new for their species, as terrible and tragic as it was. But Raylan's heart didn't have to worry about the countless war victims; just the one in his arms now.

Tim could cry if he wanted to. Raylan wouldn't judge him for it. Raylan's hand didn't stop rubbing as Tim came to an end and he turned his lips into Tim's hair.

"It did hurt," he admitted, soft against all the hard against them. "More than I thought it was going to." It devastated him in a way, to have everything he thought was true cut out from under him inside a few sharp words that left him throat tight.

"And I know you're tryin'. It's good that you are. Trust me when I say these people aren't gonna kick you around or judge you. Neal and Malcolm especially. For all the bite they can be capable of, the New Yorkers are the softest among us. The kindest too, by my bet. Doc's the most hospitable. I suppose I'm the most suspicious.." Considering.

"Alls that matters is that you're trying. There's no schedule or time limit on this. Don't you go thinkin' that. It's okay."

He was terrified.

If asked directly, about opening himself up to Raylan, allowing himself to reach for this, he would admit that he was scared to death. Perhaps he was even still trying to brace himself for the pain that could come out of all of this.

But he wasn't retreating. He wasn't running for cover, even when his instincts told him it would be the wise choice. Tim couldn't, not given the strength of his emotions now that they had been given permission to come to the surface.

"You don't ..." Tim began before he appeared to deflate. "I don't want you caught in the middle of this. Malcolm loves you and he is very protective of you."

Raylan took a deep uneven breath and broached something that he'd been avoiding for the past week of them taking up together. Tim had already trusted him so much but Raylan couldn't avoid the responsibilities he felt to Malcolm and Henry. Henry, for his part, likely wouldn't care, as long as Raylan was willing to spend time with him. Their porch drinking sessions were like church at this point, and their stolen afternoons were just that. Theirs and stolen and bittersweet for them.

"It's too late for that. I'm already in the middle of this... I'm going to have to tell him. About you. About this. About us. Just like I had to do with Henry. He might not love me after that. He might hate me. Might not be right for a man to love three men at once. Who could blame him.. But it's not right for me to not say anything. To either of you. He hasta know."

In truth Tim could understand why Raylan had been trying to avoid that particular conversation. Nothing was sure and it was a hell of a risk. Tim did not worry so much about Doc. There was a practicality to the man what the young sniper respected. Malcolm was ... well Raylan had already said it, Malcolm was softer. He felt things more powerfully.

Tim couldn't entirely help himself and he physically held on to Raylan all that much tighter as he spoke.

"Do you wa ..." he began, then altered that last word. "Do you need 'us' to stop?" He asked softly. "Raylan ... I can't lay in your arms and tell you I love you, without wanting you to be happy. There is so much stress in this godforsaken town, you deserve respite, Handsome. Not more complications."

"Maybe that's what makes me so terrible," he admitted into Tim's ear. "That I still find my respite despite those complications. That I'm not.. That I don't love any of you enough to shove off the others. I'm-.. It's wrong of me and I know it but I can't help but be greedy here. With all it's horrors, I'm greedy for that respite, for being needed, for being helpful, for being useful by exiting nearby."

Raylan wrapped his arms tighter around the sniper, pressing kisses onto his shoulder before leaning his head against his. It was so much harder after their admissions, to wade into the administrative parts of their set up in Mathis.

"No, I don't need or want us to stop. Malcolm knows I'm not exclusive, I just don't know that he imagined you'd be in the mix. But I know him knowin' is gonna be hard for you. I can't tell him without tellin' you first. So you got time to.. prepare yourself... I am happy, you know. With all of ya, whenever I'm graced with the blessin' of gettin' to hold you." All of them.

Raylan felt both terrible and terribly blessed, guilty and elated all at once and there seemed no level for it.

"You're not terrible," Tim said softly but with fierce conviction. "You're a man who has a lot of love in his heart, who has rarely had the chance to share it."

He pressed a lingering kiss against the older man's temple and even when he began to speak, his lips remained against salt and pepper hair.

"Tell him. Tell both of them what you need to tell them, Raylan." Tim said with soft encouragement, his voice charged with emotion. "I'm here, and I have your back. I won't leave you, Raylan. Not unless you tell me to go."

Edited 2021-06-06 04:28 (UTC)

Raylan hummed shortly. He didn't believe that. The whole thing felt wrong, against the rules, like he wasn't playing the game of Life about it all. Everything he'd been raised with, everything he'd been taught told him otherwise.

"Then remember that I've got yours and it's not contingent on what I'm doing with Malcolm or Henry. I want to be able to do that for Malcolm too and I'm not tellin' anyone to leave.. I.. I promised I'd be honest. And I haven't been since that morning." Tim could guess which one.

"I don't want it bein' a surprise or betrayal to you either. Want you to be ready for what follows after." Chaos. Anger. Heartbreak. It was coming, just like the storm still beating outside of the tunnel. "They'll know the truth of you, persona or not."

He'd also been raised to believe that it was a man's Godgiven right to beat on his wife and children. Raised to believe that the world owed him what he wanted in life without putting in the work. And if Raylan really wanted to play by Harlan County rules, if Malcolm died then he'd need to start shacking up with Ainsley.

"I'm not going to lie and say that I feel ready for what follows," Tim admitted. "But I absolutely support you holdin' to your promise to be honest with him." Because Raylan was right, it would be worse if it came as a surprise.

The younger marshal was quiet for a couple of breaths, before he turned his head and kissed his partner's cheek.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I know you have many reasons for not having said anything to this point, but ... thank you." For giving Tim this bit of a time to acclimate. "And thank you for letting me know your choice to take this step."

"You're not going to be facing it alone," Raylan promised, hands tightening around the smaller man for a long moment. He couldn't promise how it would all be taken or what would really come of it, but Tim wasn't and didn't have to be alone in it. That support went both ways.

"Lotta rules to juggle. Talkin' about what I know about you and your feelin's.. Anywhere else, I respect you enough to not share 'em. Not my place. Wouldn't be right to just set it on you without warnin'. Without your input. Without givin' you your own choice in the matter." Stopping would mean that he wouldn't have to say anything but it would also mean they wouldn't have this. Considering what Raylan already knew, he didn't think Tim could handle it. Not well, not really.

"You really gonna come to 1306 once this shit stops?"

Edited (icon change) 2021-06-07 14:55 (UTC)

Were Tim in a better place, were they not in this pressure cooker of a town, he'd like to think he'd have the strength stop. He knew he couldn't, wouldn't stop loving Raylan but it could be more like back home; where he loved him but found platonic ways to show it. Like looking up the average age that babies start to crawl, walk, etc.

But it had taken every ounce of courage in him to make the offer to Raylan. To accept that it was too messy for the older marshal to try to juggle three lovers and to give his partner the opportunity to press pause on them. Raylan hadn't taken it, and Tim would not admit to the way a knot in his chest had loosened and fallen away as a result. He couldn't and he wouldn't ask again.

This may have communicated itself in the way the sniper leaned into Raylan's hold, the tightness with which he held in return.

"I've been trying to extend you the same courtesy," he said quietly. "I think that might be a sticking point with Malcolm. He wants us to work together to help you and I fear he's taken my reluctance to discuss you, back home and here, as a rejection of him."

Though it was true that Tim wasn't all that good with emotions, even when he had permission to talk about them. Shifting his head a little to rest on the older man's shoulder, his fingertips began to make soft circles on chilly skin.

"Yes," he said without hesitation. "I may not be able to offer you much to make any of this easier for you, but I can get my head out of my ass in this instance and focus on you."

"There's a few people who get a pass. Malcolm and Henry. Klaus. They.. Worry about me. More than they need to, maybe. Gathering what understandin' of me that they can. It's okay. Talk to them and let them help you wrap your head around it too. You don't have to be so deeply separated from 'em."

They could help each other. Had helped each other; Raylan was under no delusions that Henry and Malcolm hadn't talked, that they hadn't helped each other. At least to parse their own feelings in a place that was safe and not Raylan directly.

"I feel like everyone is. I want to make sure we focus on you too, darlin'. I've.. done this.. in some fashion before. Had a relationship. This.. isn't exactly how I'd advise us doin' it," he huffed, turning his lips into Tim's hair. "But I don't wanna hurt you. Or make you feel like you're.. just back up for me. Not somethin' to be used when I want." It was important to him, that Tim know. That Tim understood how Raylan wanted this to be.

Tim briefly considered pointing out that even back home he was pretty separated from the team in the office. At least when it came to his private life and his personal thoughts on various subjects.

"I'm a sniper, Handsome. If the focus is on me I'm doing something wrong," the words might sound like levity, but there was a genuine message in them. Tim didn't just fall in behind Raylan because the older man walked faster. He also fell in behind Rachel, Art and hell even Nelson. It afforded him the view he needed to keep everybody's backs covered. But it was more than that and with a sigh he closed his eyes. It was his turn to press his face against Raylan's throat, breath soft and warm against cool skin.

"You know what it is to grow up as a punching bag," he said quietly. "We both learned that being a 'focus' for anything was bad and showin' weakness to that kind of bully was asking for more pain." They had both been raised in that toxic soup. Helen had helped Raylan, the Army had helped Tim but it was still hardwired in their natures.

"I've spent four years making sure I never overstepped my bounds," he admitted softly. "You taking me down off the shelf when you have a spare moment ... it's more than I ever let myself hope for," he struggled through the words, felt like a broken record when he admitted. "I am almost paralyzed with fear that I'm going to ask too much."

He would be right in pointing that out, but they weren't in the office. They didn't get to be so well insulated and also survive here. Or stay sane. Raylan knew they could help in ways he couldn't. If Tim would let them.

"Taking you down off a shelf," Raylan echoed, head shaking as he pulled back, off hand coming to slide up Tim's face and turn it up to face him. "That is not what this is. And if you feel like it is, then we're doin' somethin' wrong." His thumb brushed back and forth for a second.

"You're right. Talkin' isn't somethin' we normally do. But no one in that house is a bully. Most of 'em lay out their weaknesses because they aren't like us. My bein'.. entangled as I am-" The words came with a heavy sigh of uncertainty, how do you even articulate his position without losing the deep nuance that supported it all under the surface. "-puts you closer to the mess than I know you'd prefer to be. They're goin' through it too. Might.. make you feel a little less isolated and alone about it all. That's all. This isn't snipin'. We're not on a case and you can't save either of us from the bullshit Mathis is gonna rain down on us... Pun possibly intended," he huffed softly.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, I'm only askin' that you think about it."

"I know they aren't bullies," Tim said, taking another deep but cautious breath. "But they are your friends, and I can't help feeling I come up short in their measure."

It was had to explain, hell it was hard to even admit to given their background and culture. Hurt feefees were dealt with out behind some anonymous bar with sharp words and possibly fists. Tim's usual route of expressing disagreement with Raylan's choices had been met with a circle the wagon mentality. With people telling him how wrong he was about his partner and that he was being a little shit. It added an additional layer of confusion to the mix.

Tim didn't know shit about relationships, but he was fairly certain that having the approval of your significant other's friend group was pretty high up there. He felt judged and found unworthy and not just by a friend group but by men Raylan loved. It was enough to make his head spin and trying to drop his defenses in the face of all that?

It was a test of courage that Tim didn't feel ready to face. Not in an all or nothing scenario. "I feel like a bull in a china shop, Raylan. But I am doing my utmost to step carefully and keep my mind open."

"They feel much the same, as I understand it. Lackin' some way to get such a stunted shoulder from ya. You're from Home and they pretty well assume that you're used to my shit. They're not used to Marshal talk or used to knowin' whats underneath it. It's just a.. big social misunderstandin'. There's no.. competition here and you all got your own contexts when it comes to me. I've.. I died with them. Died trying to save them, even if it only got them killed next to me for the efforts."

If Raylan had met any of the men that had served in the sandbox with Tim, in the context of them being the same kind of comfortable, he was sure he'd feel less than. It was hard not to, in a room full of Rangers, considering, but Raylan did understand.

Raylan let out a breath and pressed a kiss into Tim's hair. "It'll be okay, darlin'. You don't have anything to prove and neither do they. We're all a little broken here, doin' the best we can and tryin' to protect the people we love. One day atta time."

Edited 2021-06-11 13:37 (UTC)

Tim felt as if there was more he should say, more he wanted to say. But his head was starting to spin with the weight of everything they had already discussed and he knew he needed to take time to unpack and process it all.

Also he was starting to feel tired and Raylan's shoulder was warm, the soft kiss to his hair soothing. He considered rousting himself, using the tricks and training he'd picked up during his military career to make him alert and ready for a sudden threat. But wrapped up around Raylan, his partner's arms around him, skin to skin it was all too comfortable and he was really tired.

Trusting that the older marshal would alert him to any significant change to their situation, and was even less likely to also fall asleep, Tim began to let himself drift. Apologies in advance for any drooling.

Maybe there was. Maybe there wasn't. Either way, there was nothing either of them could do about anything right now, so dwelling on it wasn't helpful. One hand slipped up to the back of Tim's neck where he set a thumb to brushing back and forth for a short while.

It was okay. Tim could doze off and not risk getting a crick in his neck, even though this would have been a lot more comfortable with Raylan's weight against the wall. Still, he was able to balance them just so, so that his lower back wasn't taking the effort of holding up their everything.

Tim was right; Raylan wasn't going to go to sleep - Mathis would have to put him down. Sleeping down here wasn't a good idea, but maybe if one of them was awake, he could hold off Mathis's influence. Maybe he could hold off the Shadow Man.

It was a few long hours later before Raylan's rubbing hand was rubbing across his shoulders with the soft intent of waking Tim up. He was sure it wouldn't take much and that was the gentlest way he could think, with an added soft "Hey," rumbled into his hair.

062 » that moment of experience / part i

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