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

“No,” mumbled Malcolm into Doc’s clothes. “Raylan didn’t invite me out to go dancing. He invited me out to make a confession. It was not the good time I thought I was signing up for.”

But they hadn’t broken up, so it could have gone worse. Probably.

It takes Doc a while to respond. Not even because he's giving it all that much thought but he's tired enough that even his thoughts are as sluggish as his movements. He cracks one eye open and then the other, resisting the urge to pull back and put enough distance between them that he can make eye contact with Malcolm. He seems to like Doc's undershirt an awful lot; no reason to make him part with it.

Sliding his fingers through Malcolm's hair, he brushes his thumb back and forth over the back of his head a few times before his hand drifts lower to rub Malcolm's back.

"Would you like to tell me about it, or just get some sleep?" He would not pry if no information is offered. Nor does he offer to talk to Raylan. Such matters are complicated, but they are both adults, capable of dealing with their own troubles without someone else coming in trying to 'help'. He feels he has done enough as it is, already having given what morsels of advice Malcolm never asked for.

Malcolm considers that, silent for a moment.

“He told me he’s been seeing Tim. Like. The same way he’s been seeing us.”

Though he’s not sure Doc would be bothered by it; Doc had not been imagining a future with Raylan, despite the almost brutally blunt advice Doc had given Malcolm.

“You told me so. You told me if I didn’t treat this like some… transient thing I was going to get hurt and I didn’t listen and I got hurt,” he admits softly.

"We're not seeing anything. It is just sex." And he's not certain if it is just sex with Tim or if it is something else. He's had just sex with other people and he hasn't bothered asking anyone out just to tell them he's been sleeping around.

For the most part, Doc is not entirely surprised even if he hadn't known.

"Words are much easier to give and receive. It's not easy to simply shut off how or what you feel." Though it's not ideal that Malcolm got hurt, it's still early days, and maybe that makes the blow softer than when they've come much further along.

Malcolm mulls that in silence a moment.

“You love each other. Why do you always say it’s just sex? So it’ll be easier to deal with the end of it? Maybe that’s the smart way to go. I can’t do it, but… I’m kind of stupid. I think maybe your way is smart.”

Nobody calls Doc out like that. Well, Wynonna, maybe, but so far she hasn't gotten involved in the troubles that they are ironing out in 1306, and he'd rather not things get messier than they already are. It takes him a while to mull things over as the silence stretches and stretches between them.

He would insist that he doesn't love Raylan in that way. But he can't quantify what that way means, beyond some kind of socioculturally expected kneejerk 'I'm Not Gay' proclamation the same way he swept everything he had done and craved and felt with Wyatt Earp under a dusty old rug. Is he trying to say that he loves Raylan in the same way that he cares for everyone? Is it easy for him to wake up next to Raylan, sort through last night's clothes strewn about on the floor and slide wordlessly into them, walk away and close the door and never talk or think about it? Is there no... infinitesimally small smile that makes his lips twitch when he accidentally bumps into a bruise and a dull pain flares up from a place he doesn't let anyone else into? Would he not really miss Raylan once Mathias and all her troubles are behind them?

"Because it is just sex," Doc says eventually. "We are friends, we discuss all manner of things, and we look out for each other, but. I ain't taking him home with me when our time is done. I never kissed him with any expectations, never built out some long term fantasy of a life together or asked him to change anything he is or does for my sake. Whatever else he wants to do with whomever he chooses is his own business." Maybe he oversimplifies things by not asking too much, but. Raylan respects him back in the same way. And they don't really talk about it. One of them just shows up and the other... indulges. It seems to work for them.

Malcolm considers that.

"I told him tonight that I don't think he'd tolerate what he's asked of me. Again. He said you have Wynonna here. That he expects you sleep with her." Of course he does, would be Malcolm's reply. She's his wife. "And he asked how that was different. I told him he knew about Wynonna before she ever showed up here. That you and he made an informed choice together. That that's how it's different." Malcolm lifted his face from Doc's shirt to look at him. "He sees you the same way he sees us, even if you don't look at it as the same thing."

Doc doesn't respond about Wynonna. It's nobody else's business, what he does or doesn't do with her. He doesn't particularly want to be dragged into whatever Raylan is working out with Malcolm and Tim and if he doesn't get a choice in that matter, he sure as shit isn't going to be dragging Wynonna along with.

He meets Malcolm's gaze when he feels that weight lift away from his chest. He can't help but pat Malcolm's hair a couple times. He is hard-pressed to see Raylan as being naive enough to see Doc as anything more than a bedwarmer. If Arlo didn't beat any idealistic tendencies out of Raylan, Harlan and the Marshals Service would have taken care of it.

"If there's something he can't tolerate about anything, he would walk," Doc says quietly. It is what any man who has been around the block a couple times and knows what he wants, what he is willing to compromise on and what his limits are would do.

"This is not something I wanna take sides on, but. I do hope you were clear with him - and clear with yourself - about what you want. You didn't want to tell him anything because you thought he might reject you. He did not. Perhaps you thought you would be happy settling for table scraps. Morsels of attention, one night stands. I think it is safe to say you are past that point now, waded into much deeper waters. But it seems to me you are looking for devotion. Now I am not saying you are changing your mind. It is a good thing, to learn and to grow and to know what it is makes you happy and what it is you cannot settle for. But you need to tell him. And he needs to decide what he wants, what he can give you. You can't make somebody love you and devote themselves to you the way you love and devote yourself to them."

Malcolm nods, taking a hand from Doc’s shirt to scrub it over his face.

“I guess that’s… basically what we talked about.” If they have to talk about him instead of getting to the bottom of the Raylan and Doc situation. “…It was definitely easier to live with your bed of denial being the only other place he went,” he admits. “I… did like it better when I could believe he wanted me with him at home, whether it turns out to be possible or not. If there was ever a sliver of space for me, there isn’t now.” Tim would be going home with him. Tim would be working beside him. All the space next to Raylan at home was full up. “But… I offered to go back to being his friend, like I am with you. He didn’t want that… wall.”

They probably can't get to the bottom of the Raylan and Doc situation simply because Doc believes there is no situation. Raylan's never mentioned otherwise and Doc has more closets to sequester his thoughts and feelings than any nomadic man ought to be carrying around with him.

Doc had also never believed that there was any space for Malcolm in Raylan's world. He had said as much. He thinks it a little irresponsible if Raylan had led him to believe otherwise, but he suspects it might not have been intentional or deliberately manipulative. Raylan is just... stupid that way.

"Oh, Malcolm," Doc says with a small, quiet sigh. "There is no going back. There was never any going back the moment you met him. You will never be able to look at him without feeling anything. The only way is forward."

“I know,” he admits. “It’s just. He told me…”

His voice trails off.

“Well, like you said, I guess. It was a lot of nice things to say to someone in bed.” Or the kitchen. Or in the bathroom having his wounds tended. “But after I found him with you, he said he should have told me. He said he wouldn’t lie to me anymore and now this. And he swears there won’t be anyone else and he’s so earnest but… I don’t know how to believe that and I told him to fix it, but I know he can’t. He can’t… fix my trust. I believed him before. Because… I wanted to. I wanted the nice… “ He takes a shaky breath. “I know you told me I shouldn’t think there was any space for me there, but I asked him about it. Not in bed. And he…”

Malcolm presses his face back into Doc’s shirt.

“Doesn’t matter now, I guess. Moving forward, not back,” came his muffled acknowledgement. “I told him I’d stay so… I only have myself to blame, I know that. But I don’t want to lose him and he never asks if I’m fine with this stuff before he does it, so I guess that’s my allotment of choice. Live with it or not. You’re right; I’ve accepted my crumbs. He said I was his first and that was important. It doesn’t feel like an honour. It feels like being replaced twice and bone deep inadequacy but he says that’s not the case.” He sighs. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do with it all. I’m tired.”

"Malcolm. Sometimes you have... Three bottles of moonshine and things just sort of happen. I don't think he planned-... No, look, I'm not going to defend him. Or myself. I just-- I married a prostitute. She married a whore. We didn't love each other any less just because sex was happening with other people." They just shared an understanding about what a relationship means. They also both have experience working in brothels. Indiscretions are a matter of when rather than if, and usually sooner rather than later. They were not naive enough to believe that they can meet 100% of each other's needs, so they subcontract the 5% or 10% or whatever % out and it never mattered as long as they came home to each other at the end of the day.

Of course, it seems they're very much in the minority, and it doesn't matter anymore since Kate is long dead and Wynonna would take 150% of Doc if she thought she could get away with it.

"Forget about Raylan for a minute. If it was not Raylan in question, but anyone else, who never asks and makes you feel replaced, would you do this to yourself, and take whatever leftovers that get cast your way, and continue to want to stay? Tomorrow someone else might very well wash up on the beach. Are you going to put yourself through this anguish for table scraps? The only person who's going to look after you and chase after what you want is yourself."

He expects Doc knew that his prostitute was a prostitute. He expects Doc knew just what he was signing up for when he signed up.

“I always do,” Malcolm tells him. “Nobody chooses me when they have any other options. Nobody signs up for all this. I knew that. I hoped for a minute but… I told him that when I found out about you. He said at home he would choose me. But that’s not true anymore either and I knew better than to believe it could be. I just. Wanted it to be. I’ll be able to live with my scraps. I just.” He takes a deep breath and lifts his head again. “Need to breathe for a few minutes.”

She didn't sign up for palliative care and he never let on exactly how sick he was until towards the end when he couldn't hide it anymore, but them's the breaks. In the end that's probably why she left him, even though she tried to convince him otherwise.

"You should get some sleep," Doc suggests. He knows Malcolm has more to think about and say on the subject, but he's not sure that Malcolm is thinking clearly right now. He can't have both asking what he is asking of Raylan and simultaneously be happy making concessions and settling for what he thinks he can but very clearly is unable to stomach settling for. The latter, also, doesn't sit right with Doc. Whatever he feels about nobody deserving anything in life, Malcolm could afford to treat himself better. It might not be anything deliberate or malicious on Raylan's part but Malcolm is too inexperienced with relationships, has experienced too many setbacks and rejections, too naive and too caught up in the thick of it to see that he is being used by a man who either doesn't even know what he wants, or knows exactly that he wants to have his cake, eat it too, take the plate and pocket the silverware, and doesn't realise what he is subjecting others to.

Sleep is unlikely to come easily. Malcolm ought to try anyway. Doc has probably said too much, himself. But nobody would have liked to see Malcolm this way. There is little he can do to stop the self-perpetuating negativity cycle when Malcolm is so focused on only the things that confirm his self-fulfilling prophecy of being unwanted and Doc doesn't bother trying. Whether he says something or nothing, the cherry-picking will happen regardless. He just hopes Malcolm would consider what he does want, and be willing to fight for it.

What Malcolm Wants has not been a factor in most of his life. Finding ways to live with enough of it to feed himself has been the guiding star. He'll fight for lots of things, including every one of his friends here. He'll fight for this relationship, too, even if he doesn't get to be quite as special as he wishes he were. Everyone wants to be more special. Everyone wants love. He knows he's loved. He didn't think he'd get to have that. That's something.

"You know... the memory? You and Wyatt? Why was he so hard on you? Nobody wants to die sick and alone. I don't understand why he didn't understand. Not even a little."

No, this isn't going good places. There is a reason Doc tries to keep the topic on Malcolm, or Raylan, or anyone other than himself. Multiple reasons. But there is no shying away from such a direct line of questioning.

"I was... a different man back then." And he probably hasn't changed as much as he's hoped he's changed. He didn't always have a heart of gold. Too busy being angry and bitter and drunk and violent most of the time.

"Wyatt had his own ill-fated tango with magic. Wynonna and our daughter can never have a normal life because of his heroics. He had every right to be angry, to leave me in the well." Doc breathes out a slow sigh and shifts and settles a little in bed, resting his arm around Malcolm's waist.

“But… didn’t yours only affect you?” Malcolm muses. “Sounds like Wyatt was mad at Wyatt and took it out on you.” He falls silent a moment. “I don’t think I could hurt someone I love like that. There’s no taking that back.”

"Malcolm, it's--" Complicated. All ancient history now. Spat out in the heat of the moment. Taken out of context. Doc could have defended Wyatt in any number of ways. But Wyatt, for all his heroics, had done indefensible things that Doc had covered up and continues to cover up for. He has no qualms speaking ill of the dead, if it is necessary. But dragging all this through the mud is not necessary.

"I saved his life. He took care of me. There was no love, only debts owed to be repaid." Oh, but he did love Wyatt. And when he got sick - really sick - Wyatt dropped everything and crossed half the Frontier to come back for him. It's so difficult to be the last standing apostle, to denounce what they had a thousand times over now, every time someone asks or insinuates or cracks some innuendo-laden joke.

"There was no need to take anything back. He wasn't wrong. We never saw each other again."

“I’m sorry,” Malcolm says softly, tucking his head in against Doc’s shoulder. For asking or for it happening… he isn’t clear. Maybe both. “You know, I was never going to tell him how I felt, but he heard us talking that night. He heard us talking about it.” Like he hasn’t given himself away to everyone with eyes with every glance. That was how Doc knew, after all. Though Raylan hadn’t picked up on it. “He knew before he kissed me at Poe’s that it would be… not unwelcome. I suggested I was maybe just a safe place for him to start, but he says it’s not like that.”

"He would have known." In Raylan's case, probably later rather then sooner, but he's supposed to be a US Marshal or something despite being a dumbass, and it would have come out anyway one way or another.

"Broken men are easier to love." Although who he is referring to there is left deliberately ambiguous. Aren't all the men in 1306 broken in some fashion?

“No wonder there’s so much love in this house,” Malcolm murmurs.

Yes, they are.

“Go back to sleep,” he said softly. “I’m going to stay here.” But probably not sleep, so someone should enjoy the lack of screaming.

There's an unhealthy amount of codependency also. And a tendency to try and fix broken people rather than accept what they have and learn how to function without. But Doc isn't going to point any of that out tonight.

He just shifts and settles down again in bed, finding a comfortable way to face Malcolm and sling his arm low around Malcolm's waist. He doesn't mind a bit of nestling, if it would encourage Malcolm to get some rest also. He may not be any less heartbroken in the morning but staying up all night brooding isn't going to make him feel any better about it either.

He curls up against Doc, silent for a few moments, grateful for the warmth and weight of that arm.

Out of nowhere, he says “They’ll all come home, right? Neal and Negan and Raylan? They’ll all come back.”

He expects that Raylan will, once he's pulled his head out of his ass and figured out what he wants to do. Neal is a probably, but Doc can't be certain. And as for Negan... There's nothing much to say about Negan at all. Doc doesn't threaten lightly. And anything Negan could have said in the days since past would have only made his standing with Doc even lower.

"I don't know," Doc deflects, the pause too long to be convincing. He didn't flinch at least. "We might get a few days to ourselves, at least." It's not a bad thing to him. Housing an army isn't easy.

“I’m worried about them. Especially Raylan. He won’t come home until he settles things with Neal, but Neal walked out before I took Raylan dinner. None of them should be alone. It’s not safe,” Malcolm says. “I’m going to look for them in the morning.”

065-071 » assign to oblivion / part iii

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