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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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

For the time being at least.

"The landline," he replied and from the sound of shuffling around Tim was getting settled on the floor within the landline's reach.

"It does look like some damned relic from the 70's. Guess wireless phones didn't make it in town.. How you holdin' up? Don't suppose that you're not limping around anymore, are you?"

"Should have gone the full mile and left us with rotary," he responded. "I'm not, as a matter of fact, which is not the relief it should be. Woke up covered in dust, dressed like I was about to attend church in Alabama in August. But the aches and pains were definitely not what they should have been."

"That's somethin'. I woke up the same way, lookin' like I fell out of a Mormon baptismal. M'hat's gone. Boots too." He sighed. "Suppose that's the least of our problems, cleanin' our places back up."

"Your hat's gone?" Tim's tone was teasingly amused. "Is there no end to the indignities this town will visit upon you."

"None, it seems. I'm to be persecuted by lack of hat ware for the rest of my time here."

It was nice, to take a moment to be a little lighthearted. The conversation that was coming wasn't going to be the lightest or easiest one.

"Your own personal purgatory," Tim agreed.

"Mm." Maybe not.

"I talked to Malcolm. He's headed back to your side of town now.. Neal's gonna be pissed. Should probably avoid him for a couple days, let him cool down."

There was an awkward pause on the line, before Tim inquired. "Why?" His tone bemused.

"I get that you might not be on his Christmas card list this year, but ... what happened?"

"Well," Raylan started with a deep breath and a heavy sight. "Malcolm isn't.. kicking me outta any place... But I broke his heart." Even if Malcolm said yes and things were not so delicately balanced on that knifes edge, that fact remained. "Neal told me it would happen too. That Malcolm would be hurt but not.. not pissed. Forgiving."

Not that Raylan really deserved that forgiveness, no matter his reasons.

"And this leads to my having to avoid Neal?" Tim was starting to draw a picture but he asked the question before coloring in the lines.

"Neal's in love with Malcolm. You knew about Malcolm and I before we did anything. He blames you for hurting Malcolm too. I've never seen him as pissed as he was the other day." Jealous. Raylan didn't hold it against him. He'd laid no solid claims other than the ones freely given by Tim and Malcolm, but that was probably part of it too. Raylan not grabbing and being devoted to someone that Neal wanted to.

"No tellin' what a heartsick man is gonna do."

Tim was quiet for a bit, a few thoughts going through his head. One of the most prominent was the jaded part of his personality that was smirking at the whole 'people in 1306 who care about you' bullshit Malcolm had been spewing the other day.

The little boy, deep in the shadows of his psyche, had been peeking out at the hopeful idea. He disappeared quickly back into the recesses of his mind.

"Yeah, I get that. I'll keep my distance."

Edited 2021-06-29 20:00 (UTC)

"What's goin' on in your head Tim? Talk to me."

At the house Tim worked his hand around the receiver for a couple of breaths, holding his hand over the mouth piece. Eventually he brought it back up to his mouth.

"It isn't going to work, Handsome." He said in a soft voice. "Maybe if Malcolm and I weren't two such different people," maybe if Neal wasn't a complicating factor in the mix. "I know you said it was going to be messy, but I thought that would be something for three of us to work out, not four or five."

Tim paused, reaching up to wipe his thumb and his index finger from the corner of his eyes, down his face.

"We're fooling ourselves. I know you want want it to work, and I love you for trying.
But you know, and I know we're just gonna end up with a lot of miserable people, and this place will eat us alive we let that happen."

Raylan's chest clenched at the first set of words and he sat up a little, setting down his glass to the side. No. No, not after everything that's happened, you promised.

"You knew what Neal said, you knew he was-" Raylan clamped that down. "Tim. Please don't do this. Don't add us onto that pile; Neal will handle himself. He's just as grown as we are."

I just put everything on the line for you.

"I knew he's in love with Malcolm. I knew you and he had a set down, I didn't also realize this spread out ..." Tim trailed off and rubbed his hand over his face. "Look Neal's not important."

Lowering his hand, Tim drew his one knee up and settled his wrist over the top of it.

"Raylan," he began softly. "Are you happy with this, any of this? You've exiled yourself to the other side of town, can you honestly tell me you're happy?"

Wasn't he? That was the only thing that had changed from the night before.

"I know that anythin' worth having is worth the struggle to get and keep it." Was he happy this very second? Well, he was half drunk and alone and feeling like the man he'd taken the wild jump off a cliff for was on the verge of telling him it was for nothing and reaching for the barbed wire to wrap around his heart. So no, not really.

"Yes, Tim, I'm happy with this. I'm happy with havin' people that love me and are willin' to take whatever odd hour this place gives us to be happy with. I'm happy with comin' home and collecting you and that stupid hello kitty shirt outta whatever bed you fell into. Darlin', if I wasn't, if I thought for a second it wasn't worth it, I would not be over here on the other side'a town. Shit, if I could have every hard conversation here, away from home where it'll follow me around, I would. It's a night. Two nights at best. Things will calm down. It'll be alright, just a few bumps."

Edited 2021-06-29 21:25 (UTC)

Shit was already difficult with Malcolm, no matter how hard Tim tried. Now throw Neal into the mix and it was next to impossible for the younger marshal to see how any of this worked out alright.

He also figured that while things may have worked in a direction Raylan had hopped, that there was no promise it would stay that way. That Malcolm wouldn't sleep on it, wouldn't talk to Neal or Doc and decide he wasn't okay with things after the fact. No matter how Tim looked at the whole situation, no matter how desperately he wanted to trust Raylan, he licked salty water off his upper lip.

"Seems best we all take a couple of days," he agreed.

Please don't leave me.

Even if Malcolm did, and Raylan wasn't certain at all that the profiler wouldn't drop him like a hot rock after talking to Neal, it didn't change a thing for Raylan in regard to Tim. Neal clearly thought Raylan was a.. a fuck-boy, (he's pretty sure he heard some younger kids say that, that was a thing right?) and that damage couldn't be undone. Damage had been done. Like pulling a trigger. No taking that bang back now, no matter what happened.

Raylan did not feel like things were resolved; there was a new tension, a new thread of fear in him that he was clamping down hard on. Maybe he should just be grateful he got a phone call and Tim didn't just up and leave like Winona had.

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

It really was insult to injury, the way your lips ended up chapped when you kept licking tears off them. He wanted to run for the hills. No that wasn't quite right. He wanted to slam all the walls he'd let down, mostly for Raylan but for others, right back up into place. Retreat behind their safety and tuck his love for the older marshal back into a mental hope chest where it could be safe and protected.

But the old soul part of him was clear on the fact that they'd gone too far for that to be a reasonable option. Raylan had given up too much, everything had gotten too messy, all because Tim couldn't stop himself back when he should have stopped himself. Back before he let a love he knew was inappropriate lead him to make a stupid, glorious, beautiful decision.

Reaching up with his hand to wipe at his eyes and his nose -ew snot everywhere, gross- he took a quiet, deep breath and nodded, though he was on a frigging landline phone.

"Yeah. I'd like that. Going to go up to the Lighthouse," seemed a good distance away from Phillips Drive and 1306. "Probably be there most of the day?"

Edited 2021-06-30 01:29 (UTC)

The breath he didn't realize he was holding was let out softly as he leaned his head back, eyes pricking with tears of relief that he battled and failed to keep at bay. Yes, it might have been an asshole move on both their parts. Maybe that was the case but Raylan didn't regret it. All he wanted to do at this exact minute was wrap Tim up into his arm and press desperately grateful kisses into his hair.

"Yeah. I'll come by, I can-" His breath halted, drawing in what felt like the first full breath since they'd broached the conversation, "-Bring lunch. Soup and sandwiches, they transport easy. You'll wanna eat." He wanted to eat with him. No matter how much he disliked the lighthouse in general.

"Don't shut any of the doors when you're up there though. I told you about wakin' up in there, right?" He didn't want to get off the phone. He didn't want to lose the rich voice in his ear until he felt like they were okay. They weren't done. "If you get locked in, I'mma gonna have to go on a crowbar hunt and my hands just healed."

He'd tear them raw again to get Tim out of a place if he needed to.

"Soup and sandwiches sound good," Tim agreed, still struggling to keep his voice from cracking and mirroring the older marshal's posture with his head back against the wall. He was going to have to clean up his face when they were done talking, but that could wait for the time being.

"You recall that I'm a sniper? I like high locals," he remarked in a dry tone. "That said I will make sure to prop the door open. I don't plan to go up, just want to check around the house a little bit. See what kind of shape it's in."

It was his turn to ramble a bit, talking for the sake of hearing Raylan answer him. Give them both a chance to walk back from the edge Tim's fear had brought them up to. They might not be physically together, but with his tone and his words; it was the pinkie once again being extended.

Just hold his vocal pinkie?

"Lemme know if my John Handcock is still on the desk before you start doin' any kinda redecoratin' up there. Should I bring a couple flowers to lay out, spruce up the place?"

Consider that pinkie held. The more they talked, the more he would calm down, but he still felt very much like he was climbing down that cliff face that had torn him up all over again. Safe ground is coming. You're almost there.

"Pretty sure I saw some.. They're not daisies but they're red. Sorta nice to look at." If you liked that kind of thing... Did Tim like that kind of thing?

"If I remember correctly place could do with some color." Did he like flowers? Tim realized he had no idea. No one had ever brought them to him and he certainly had never brought any to someone else. He didn't hate flowers, he didn't go out of his way to sniff on them in the grocery store.

But he realized he liked the idea of Raylan bringing a few flowers, to sit between them while they ate. He wondered if he was supposed to ask how things went. Raylan had touched on it, enough to give Tim an idea without getting into details and the sniper figured it was business best left between Raylan and Malcolm.

"I know you," and Malcolm (too soon) "have history with the Lighthouse, but I found it ... familiar."

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