villagelogs | 065-071 » assign to oblivion / part iii

065-071 » assign to oblivion / part iii

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: Mathias Township proper
WHEN: Days 065-071
WHAT: The residents of Mathias reunite under unnerving conditions.
WARNINGS: (PM this account to have a warning added!)
NOTES: Plotting post over here!

RECOMMENDED ♫ Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross "Outside"

DAY 065-071
ASSIGN TO OBLIVION
“No matter how much time passes, no matter what takes
place in the interim, there are some things we can never
assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away.”
— Haruki Murakami

Only two days have passed since the town was fractured, leaving residents cut off from those they'd come to know and even care for. A mere two days of wandering the new streets, uncovering more secrets that continue to make little sense of this strange place. Two days with sunrises, sunsets, and nights that seem like any other.

And yet.

When residents wake on this third day, they will find that much has changed. All around them, wherever they may be, there are signs that time has passed without them. Dust covers everything, indoors and out, even areas that were spotlessly clean seemingly hours ago. The residents themselves are covered as well, dust clinging to their hair, skin, and clothing—

Clothing that they may not have been wearing when they went to sleep. Each resident, regardless of the state they were in previously, is now clad in a pair of white pajamas, with long pants and button-up shirts. Those who thoroughly explored Baneberry Hall will easily recognize these articles as identical to those well-stocked in the decaying great house. On top of this, the clothes they wore from home have disappeared, along with anything else they may have brought with them when they arrived or items from home that have been found within the borders of Mathias.

There is no sign that anyone has entered their place of shelter, nor is there any sign of what may have been done with these items or how they came to be wearing these clothes. The dust all around them is undisturbed, almost as if they had been sleeping there for quite some time, though it seems impossible for such a thing to have occurred naturally.

THE NEW ARRIVALS
The newest arrivals to Mathias will wake up on the lawn of Town Hall, at the center of the little town square. They, too, are bereft of any items from home and clothed in the identical white pajamas. There are shops all around them, with houses just beyond, and at first glance, everything seems almost picturesque. Except for the silence that is at times so complete as to be maddening... Welcome to Mathias.

SUMMERTIME
— When summer arrives, so too does an outdoor stand in front of the General Store. Sporting a handpainted sign proclaiming Whateley Farm, the stand is overflowing with a variety of produce: berries, plums, carrots, cabbage, cucumbers, green beans, leeks, onions, peppers, potatoes, zucchini, tomatoes, and garlic bulbs. These do not replace the produce offerings normally found inside the market, but they do behave strangely. The stand replenishes sporadically, sometimes every other day or every five days. There is no discernible pattern to when it replenishes, nor is there any sign of how it came to be there at all.

— With the now-complete reverse change of season, much of the autumn debris has cleared from around town. Only a few stray leaves and fallen branches remain, their crisp colors at odds with the warm summer days. The forest has also cleared of much of the fall detritus, making it easier to both follow the paths and potentially spy things that might be out of the ordinary.

CONDITIONS UPDATE
— THE WEATHER Summer has arrived in Mathias, bringing with it warm days that average 70°F and comfortably cool nights. The skies are clear throughout the week save for Day 68 when a light rain falls from a grey sky throughout the day.

— THE FOG has maintained its new boundaries.
— 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 from the western section of town entirely.
— 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 AND DEATHS continue! Max Guevara and Liz Brundy have disappeared, and now that everyone is back together, residents will notice that Yennefer, Number Five, and Tony Stark have also vanished.

— 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
— 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 My non-RP life is busy and chaotic and I continue to ask for your forgiveness and understanding as game things continue to be slower, as I cannot promise timely mod responses beyond weekends and even that is not wholly guaranteed.

— ITEMS FROM HOME All items from home that characters would normally possess have vanished for this log and will return in the next. This includes clothing and possessions they had when they arrived in Mathias, items that were found in the rain, and items that were found in Baneberry Hall and removed from the property. Items from home that were left behind by other characters no longer in the game have also vanished. (All other items and clothing still remain, it is only items from characters' homes that have disappeared.)

— BANEBERRY ITEMS The items from home that were not removed from Baneberry Hall in the last log have vanished from the property. These items will not reappear in the next log. (Please be sure to comment in the appropriate spot on those logs about the state of your character's item for inventory purposes, ie whether they were removed from the property or left behind.)

— ACTIVITY CHECK Beginning with June's AC (posted at the start of July), all tags that consist of only dialogue will count as 0.5 points, not just those that occur in an inbox thread — this applies to both AC and AP totals. This adjustment is an extension of what has been in place since the start of the game: that all dialogue-only inbox tags counted for a half-point. Since such tags have occurred regularly in log threads as well, the half-point status is simply being extended to all tags regardless of location in order to be fairer in point distribution. (Examples will be provided in the AC post to assist with proper counting.)

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Neal closes his eyes tightly, leaning forward enough to rest his head on Malcolm's shoulder. I've never deserved my friends.

I don't know how.

Everyone he's every relied on to help pull him together has given up, eventually. Given up, or he's driven them away. Like he tried to do with Malcolm. Like he apparently did with Peter.

"I don't want to go home," he says softly. He doesn't mean 1306. "I don't want to go anywhere."

He's never going to fit anywhere else again.

Neal takes the tea without looking at Malcolm, staring instead at the the faint silt at the bottom of the cup. There's a weird sort of numbness settling over him, not peace, but something like it.

Malcolm hasn't given up on him. Raylan hasn't walked out.

He has no idea what to do with this.

"I don't know," he says. It's probably the most honest thing he's said in the past hour.

Edited 2021-06-30 23:09 (UTC)

"In the bathroom!" His voice sounded from somewhere towards the northeast corner of the small space.

Raylan might notice a pair of flip flops set by the door. What windows the house boasted were propped open in various ways to let in the breeze off the ocean and across the cliff. It was comfortable but in the small space, though the scent of mildew and mold was still thick. Not as choking as it had been, but definitely in need of a deep clean.

The young sniper was using his small size to his advantage in the tiny closet of a bathroom. A chain flush overhead basin toilet had been installed probably for charm but also practicality as there was barely enough space on the wall for a pedestal sink. The shower was a ring of curtains over a raised lip of tile rather than any sort of shower stall.

It looked quaint, but was modern enough to have been installed back in the 90s. It was in rough shape, with the damp and the dust but not a total write off. Tim was on his hands and knees, legs spread on either side of the toilet pedestal, with his front under the curtain in the shower, investigating the drain.

[ He caught the motion and simply nodded his head in confirmation. Something he always enjoyed about Callisto's company was the fact that they could communicate comfortably in silence.

He peered over the cliff edge, then looked back at her and shrugged. There was a safer path, so long as the fog cooperated, but Tim liked this one. ]

Approved. This can occur at any time, either as a vision while awake or as a dream.

[She's certainly not complaining, at any rate. She scampers up a particularly treacherous bit of the path, then looks back to see how Tim handles it - though her expression is admittedly more curious than concerned.]

The spray of the ocean was nice. It wasn't too late in the day to be hot and the heady smell of salt water let him close his eyes and imagine that he was on a beach he actually liked. So much shit had gone on in the past few days that he was almost sad that it was too early for a drink. His head pounded anyway, stomach churning, angry in its emptiness but all that matched the bruises on his face, his knuckles. Next to him, a carefully curated pile of rocks, perfect for skipping on the water. Or breaking out windows if that was your thing.

He needed something calm and zenful. This was it.

He stopped by the Food Stall on the way home, snatching up a basket of berries and another few plums. God what he wouldn't give for a steady flow of this stuff. Maybe he would start that garden. In the greenhouse. It wasn't a bad idea. If they could be cultivated, then maybe they wouldn't have to rely on this cart that might vanish at any moment.

Hours later and one stop by 1307 for a few fresh bottles of moonshine, Raylan could be found on the porch of a house deep south on Jackson Boulevard. Great view of the graveyard, he thought as he kicked his feet up. Three and a half stars.

New day, new you! Let's Talk, KJA Los Angeles When was the last time he'd hear a radio call sign? It was the first thought in days that wasn't contentious and painful and he was grateful for it. Hadn't he asked for summer? Maybe he'd find a Beach Boy's album and spin it.. in a few days. Maybe one of these kids had made a mix-tape, that had been a thing in the 90's.

Raylan was standing at the Southern treeline, looking more and more like Jeff each day in his t-shirt and jeans, accented with a lovely pair of - would they be vintage now? - converse sneakers. He'd found a baseball cap, for all the good it would do him. Everything is different.. It wasn't just the way Mathis had rolled the clock back on the seasons, making his shirt stick to his shoulders as he makes his way down known land, eyeing how far back the fog had crawled.

But the time he got to The Grey Gull, he and his abused jaw were sweaty and ready for a drink. The first place he headed was the sink in the kitchen where he kicked on the coldest water he could manage and buried his head under it, letting the sound of rushing water and the shock of the cold empty everything else out in his head.

"You're not gonna try and move in there right?" Out of 1308 if he had to, Raylan could deal with. Into a hell house, he could not. He'd never sleep again. "There's a couple good places up Jackson worth a look. It's where I'm holed up."

Worth a suggestion, if he could keep Tim from trying to post up too far away. He couldn't keep them that close together. He shouldn't have done from the start.

"Somehow I doubt it," he said in response to the scope. "Sorry." He meant that sorry too - he knew it held something for Tim. An echo of what he used to be.

"What've you done with your day?"

“That’s fair,” Malcolm tells him. “Nobody has tools for living in a place like this, under these conditions. Do you remember what we decided hurts them the most, the beings in charge of this place?” he asks. He looks up at Raylan, offers a hand to draw him to sit with him.

Edited 2021-07-01 02:18 (UTC)

“I understand.” He has bad days too. “And I thought I’d always feel that way. But I belong with you and the others. More than I’ve ever belonged anywhere.”

Who could blame him for wanting to hold on to something. No. Self-indulgent fantasy.

“Please don’t do anything… rash. Neal. Please.”

Ellie sees Jeff in the general vicinity of 1306 and makes the completely logical assumption: that he's Raylan. Well, visual confirmation that Raylan is still alive and kicking is good, especially since he's an idiot as Doc says, which mostly just means he's prone to recklessness. And he's died before here, so...

Anyway, she's glad to see him so he comes over. Is his hair different? Where'd his hat go? Fuck, how long was she missing?

"Raylan!" she calls as she gets closer, just to get his attention.

“You’re not a sadist,” Malcolm informed him sternly.

"Even if I did," he says, voice dull and tired. "It wouldn't stick. They'll keep dragging me back, because that's what this place does. That's what they want. Maybe they'll keep me in limbo for a few days, make everyone worry first, but then they'd send me back so I could try again."

His eyes are burning again, but he holds on, doesn't turn it loose.

“We can’t risk that. Sometimes people don’t come back.”

His hands fist in Neal’s shirt.

“It’s your choice, but I’d be devastated to lose you.”

I want you to be happy. Remember that.

Is that what he was saying? Is that what he was trying to say? Remember that, because...

"Why?" The word strangles its way out of him. "After everything I said to you, why?"

Edited 2021-07-01 02:37 (UTC)

Malcolm lifts his head to look at Neal.

“You’re my best friend. I love you.”

Isn’t that reason enough?

They were back. They were supposed to be back. But Tim is at the lighthouse, Raylan hasn't been anywhere she's been able to find, and there's something wrong with her that she can't explain. She tried not to show it at first, tried to pretend everything was okay, but then Jeff had touched her and she'd screamed and there was no explaining it away.

And it hasn't stopped. She can barely stand the feeling of her own clothes, the way they move against her skin. She's barely been able to think, forget sleeping. And everything that makes her feel better, everything she wants--to be held, to hold someone else, to curl up next to Jeff on the couch and watch a stupid movie--it sends off rockets in her brain that make her ball herself into a corner and clutch her head against her knees.

For a second, when she sees Raylan on the beach, she thinks it's Jeff. Only for a second, though, if that. She bolts into a run at once, half-convinced he's going to vanish before she gets there, because apparently this place can do that, it can do that to anyone whenever it wants.

"Raylan!" Her voice breaks a little when she yells his name, and she skids to a halt just out of hugging distance. Her lip trembles a little, and her anger is watery at best. "Where the fuck have you been?"

"You're an idiot," Neal says softly, but without malice. If anything, with love.

Still, he doesn't cry. He's focused too hard in the past day (the past week, the past month) on not doing that.

"I'd go back with you," he says, so quiet that proximity is the only way to catch it. "I'd go back with you if you wanted me to. If you still wanted me to."

When she wakes up, Athena feels... wrong. It's like there are bugs on her skin wherever the cloth of her white pajamas (what the fuck?) or the sheets of her bed touch her. She gets up, showers, hopes that will help, because it has to be the dust or something (what the fuck the second), but it doesn't help. It doesn't. If anything she can barely stand to towel herself off and put on fresh clothes.

Athena comes down the stairs gingerly, feeling balanced on a knife's edge and not sure what's going to make her cut herself. She tries for nonchalance as she comes into the kitchen, heading for the coffee maker as she spots Jeff at the table. "Hey, did you steal my phone? Also we need to pick you up a copy of Mathias's off-brand Better Homes and Gardens because this place is fucked up."

Edited 2021-07-01 03:21 (UTC)

"Does it matter, Malcolm? You've got your opinions, Doc's got his." And Negan isn't sure of much beyond the fact that he doesn't like the way the regret and guilt has seeped in even heavier. There's not a damn thing he can do to distract or ease from it.

"I'll come back. I promise, okay? I know you like a little Negan time and I wouldn't dream of denying it." He gives a smile to show he's joking. At least trying to.

[ feel free to wildcard me or pm if you want to hash something out. ]

1. BANANAS IN PYJAMAS.

[ this has to be some joke. it's not funny, though. elena knows she can tell a funnier one even when she's not trying (and she's not the funny one out of her friendship group).

the white pyjamas she wears look exactly like the ones she'd rifled through in baneberry hall's janitorial closet… and dropped on the floor and left in a mess. she'd felt guilty after she had left the closet, of course. elena's not the type to try on clothes and then leave them in the changing rooms or in the wrong place out on the floor. she's the type of girl who goes and places it right back where it belongs.

so, that's what she tries to do. she tries to go back and put these pyjamas where they belong, but that's a little hard to do when she rifles through the clothes box in the boarding house and even wanders into one of the abandoned houses to try and pilfer clothes. there's nothing to wear but this white outfit.

no matter where she is, elena sneezes. why is there so much damn dust? ]

2. WHATELEY FARM.

[ it's part of her usual routine to wander into the general store every day (or every day when mathias doesn't decide to throw her somewhere else). in her white pyjamas with her straight hair down, elena can't help but wander over towards the stand. she's never seen it before. that's another thing in mathias that's new and strange.

she observes the produce with her hands behind her back. comparing them to the produce she remembers from back home, the carrots and plums and potatoes look the same as they always do, nice and full and bright. when she picks up one of the items—a carrot, a bright pepper—she eyes it curiously. ]

[ hi, welcome. let's chat and conspire. ]

"For fuck's sake, Neal... you're talking to a guy who lost his job for beating up an asshole, was on fucking parole and in debt up to his fucking eyeballs, and then became a murderer at the end of the world. Trust me, you're fine." Or as fine as Negan's company tends to ever be.

"It's not about deserving, you know. You don't really get to decide that for other people."

[ when elena had met elijah, he had floppy hair. it fell into his eyes like he was nick carter in backstreet boys' prime. it made him appear younger at the time, but his short-cropped hair seemed to accomplish that better. he didn't suit a hairstyle that seemed to hide him away.

so, when she makes a comment that his hair's grown a little longer and he's about to be cousin it, she somehow gets him to agree to a haircut. his hair's growing a little longer and threatens to break out of his tight crop…

dressed in the white pyjamas (there's nothing else to wear, after all), elena's pulling her hair up into a ponytail. they're sitting out the back of an abandoned house near the boarding house. while it would make more sense for them to do this boarding house, she wants to be able to sweep his hair up easily. doing it outside made a lot more sense.

besides, the day seemed beautiful. while beauty tended to be the calm before the storm for mathias, she wanted to make the most of it.

elijah sits in a wooden chair out the back of a two-storey. the backyard's cleanly cut like it's been recently mowed. it has a nice view of the bright blue sky and a thick tree growing in the corner. she stands behind him, scissors in her pocket as she fixes up her hair to pull it away from her face.

elena gilbert has an original at her mercy.

she really should take a picture. ]

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Page 17 of 77

065-071 » assign to oblivion / part iii

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All Good!

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Day 67 - OTA

Day 68 - OTA

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Day 66, sorry for that whole mistaken identity thing

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MORNING OF 65, maybe after he's had a chance to change clothes?

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elena gilbert | the vampire diaries

[ OPEN ] | PICK ANY DAY.

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[ CLOSED ] | ELIJAH.