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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In the bathroom. This place wasn't much larger than a crackerjack box in Raylan's estimation, and a poorly kept one, but he was too tired to feel too intently about it. He had put out so many hands that had been violently slapped away in the past few days, he didn't have it in him to be told to mind his own business and keep his feelings to himself.

Somehow he knew that Tim was going to move in here.

"Hey," he said softly, coming to lean in the doorway of the bathroom. "You're looking busy."

Fair enough. Calling the space a room was being generous. The Lighthouse keeper's house was a crackerjack box, but Tim had stayed in worse. It was enough space, far enough away from Phillips Drive to keep Neal and Malcolm happy and Tim didn't hate the space.

Pushing aside the curtain so he could see Raylan as he worked, the younger man gave his partner a quick, strained smile and a nod.

"Keeps me from dwelling," he answered in a similar soft voice. "You look like shit."

"Too much flattery isn't good for my ego," he replied with a faint sad smile of his own.

"Brought lunch too." The backpack in his hand was lifted up into view. "But you can't see the flowers til you get outta here."

He wasn't going to ask. He couldn't bring himself to ask. He could only turn back into the 'living' room, find a flat surface and start setting things down.

"I'll stare at your ass when you turn around; you'll be fine." Tim remarked striving for something like the normal give and take of bullshit from home.

Pushing himself to his feet, he took a moment to wash his hands off in the sink. He'd scrubbed off a layer of grime to get to some actual soap on the bar, and then shook them dry as he followed Raylan into the main room of the cottage.

"I suggest sitting on the floor," he said as he walked over to see what his partner had in the backpack. "Most of the soft surfaces are rotten with damp."

"I was told once I didn't have one. 'Nothin' but a back with a crack', I believe the term was," he retorted good naturedly as he set the lavender down as well and opened up the backpack.

Grilled cheese with tomato soup in the thermos. Neatly wrapped deli meat deluxe. It had taken him more than a few minutes to get the folds right and they were still very sloppy, but it was all covered. Two sandwiches of each kind and a couple of plums, albeit a little bruised.

"Don't know that there's gonna be a cure for that, considerin'." Considering where the furniture was housed at. "Suppose there's not really enough room for a dinin' table either."

"Whoever said that wasn't very observant," in Tim's humble opinion.

The comforting smell of grilled cheese hit his nostrils and the younger marshal couldn't help smiling. He was reaching towards the simple comfort of melted cheese on bread before he even considered the rest of what Raylan had brought along. Though the plums, bruised or not, definitely met with approval.

Tim liked fruit. It didn't really matter what type of fruit, he could usually be found snacking on a fruit when in the office. Plums were a definite treat, and the expression he shot Raylan was one of gratitude.

"Not a big one," he agreed walking with his sandwich towards one of the open windows. "Figure a couple comfortable chairs would be a better use of the space." If the way he took down almost a third of his sandwich in one bite, it was a good guess that it had been awhile since Tim had eaten anything.

"Mm," Raylan hummed in response, keeping his opinions to himself and taking what comfort he could in Tim putting something in his stomach. He reached for the meat sandwich, figuring if he started there and Tim wanted his grilled cheese, it would be there for the taking.

"Keeps you from dwellin'."

The space was definitely too small for the elephant in the room. Tim hid behind a couple more bites of his sandwich, okay behind the rest of his sandwich, before walking back towards the backpack and the plums.

He picked one up and began to toss it in a gentle, pensive motion from hand to hand.

"You know I can't stay on Phillips Drive. Not for awhile anyway. You can't ask that of him."

Edited 2021-07-02 17:35 (UTC)

"Fruit's nice, right? I'm still not sure if that cart is gonna refill so I should probably leave off it, but if I thought we could grow 'em ourselves. Think I saw corn down there too. With the weather the way it is, I was thinkin' of diggin' a burn pit, maybe find a bit of steady fencing metal or a.. a grate from onna the houses that has gas, I figure that'd work as well. Never figured we'd end up .. what is it, vegan? Vegetarian.. ish? Shame we can't fish. Can't stop us from grillin' tho."

There was so much that Raylan wanted to say. And it felt like everything he'd said over the past two days just.. hadn't mattered.

He'd come for lunch. With flowers. Not to fight.

Tim wasn't sure how these things were supposed to go. Instinct told him that avoidance wasn't usually a good sign but at the same time he couldn't fault Raylan for wanting to avoid emotions for a bit. Tim knew he was raw and he knew enough to recognize that what he felt was nothing compared to what his partner was going through.

"Vegetarian," he supplied, just as he would back home. "Vegan is no animal anything and I'm pretty sure your beloved cowboy boots would be a big no no." He turned the plum about to the bruised side and bit into it first, slurping and having to push his chin out as he tried not to wear the juice down his "Hello Kitty" shirt front.

Around a mouthful of plum, what were manners, he asked.

"Thinking about grilling up a mess of fresh for the town?" He almost asked if Raylan was going to put that grate overtop another building, but it felt too soon. Besides, the only man had already talked about a burn pit. "Could maybe build a bigger bonfire on the beach, think that's supposed to be a good summer time activity?"

"Well, they're not gonna haveta worry about that. They're gone and I look like a old man tryin' to be a skater kid in these damned sneakers. Better than the orthopedic options I found in the back of a closet."

Raylan kept his eyes on his sandwich for the most part, giving Tim a half glance and a passing smile before he took another bite of his halved sandwich, folding the paper out of the way so he didn't eat it too.

"Maybe. Closer to a source of water in case anything gets outta hand but I dunno that I've got a lotta interest of a party of any kind." Didn't feel right. Too many people. Not enough bourbon. No where to go afterwards.

"More like you're having a midlife crisis and trying to relive your teen years, to prove you're still the cool dad."

Yeah there didn't seem to be much of a party atmosphere happening at the moment. People were back, some people seemed to be gone but everybody felt like they were still trapped in their own worried world. Whether it be due to the linger effects of the memories, or other reasons.

"I'm sure there's a good spot for something more a size of what you're thinking," he agreed before taking another bite of the plum. Yep juice everywhere.

"Might want to keep the grilling to just veggies," Tim began to lick the juice off his fingers. He didn't elaborate on the comment, figuring Raylan knew why the smell of grilling meat would be a bad idea. For a lot of them.

Edited 2021-07-02 18:06 (UTC)

"Gee thanks," he huffed behind half a laugh that was, at least, genuine. "Go back to talkin' about my ass, you're nicer on that topic." On second thought.. Maybe don't.

He wasn't here for that either.

It was a shame that Raylan had just taken another bite of his sandwich - when his brain caught up to the suggestion, the savory taste in his mouth made him want to hurl. It was an effort to force down the bite. He couldn't put the sandwich down yet, Tim would realize why, but his appetite was suddenly gone.

"Got nothin' really worth throwin' on besides vegetables, so it works out. I plan on lookin' in to see if one of these shops has a cookbook or somethin' to help me get started with everything that ain't corn. Soup stock too."

"I'm nice about all topics," Tim insisted, though they both knew he wasn't. Still Raylan's half laugh earned a genuine grin from the sniper before he tossed the plum stone into his mouth to suck and chew on.

If Tim did realize why, he'd have tried to help Raylan work through it. PTSD was a bitch and tended to hit you at unwelcome times and in unwelcome ways. But for the moment, Raylan's cover had worked and Tim was simply shaking his head.

"You don't need a cookbook, Raylan." He tsked softly. "You just pick seasoning you like, add a little oil to help the seasoning on the veggies and then let the grill do the rest."

In his opinion corn was the true pain in the ass. The arguments of grilling it in the husk or not, of seasoning it before it went on the grill or after, should there be char or no char. Tim threw that shit in a pot of boiling water for three minutes and called it a day.

For once, Raylan was glad for the musty damp smell that still hung in the place. At least that beat the worst of the memory of his own flesh burning out of his nose.

"I'm gonna find one anyway. It'll be good for ideas, things and combinations that I ain't thought about. Nothin' wrong with tryin' somethin' new, right?"

He pointed at the thermos. "Tomato soup, to go with the grilled cheese. You think you'll be comin' back here tomorrow, or.." Or would he just spend the night here, the place that gave Tim nightmares of his own. Nightmares that seemed like they were preferable to being anywhere near Raylan or anyone else.

The younger marshal didn't try to hide the momentary confusion on his face as Raylan shut down the conversation and made an obvious move to leave. He wasn't sure what to think, outside of that idea that the older man wanted to get away from him. Maybe there had been more discussion with Malcolm, and Raylan had decided that it was going to be best to cool things down between Tim and himself.

Tim didn't know and given the way the older man had closed the conversation down earlier, he figured Raylan didn't want questions.

"Thanks," he said quietly. He'd thought when they'd talked that Raylan had wanted to see him, spend time with him, talk. That wasn't the case and Tim covered his hurt in looking down when he spit the plum seed into his palm. "I think so, yeah. Keeps me from dwelling," he repeated the words in the same quiet tone.

Kept him from having to duck and dodge around Neal and Malcolm back in town, on Phillips Drive.

Edited 2021-07-02 18:40 (UTC)

"I can bring lunch again, if you want." He wasn't leaving, just asking about Tim's plans.

Tim wasn't going to ask about the beating on Raylan's face, or even so much as look at the flowers he'd brought, so Raylan wasn't going to ask about the dwelling.

"You need tools or anythin, or you brinin' those up when you come?"

He'd been heading towards asking about Raylan's face. About what the hell was going on. But the conversation got turned to veggies and Tim, for all his old soul, was still a very confused young man when it came to things like relationships.

At the mention of bringing up lunch again, the sniper tossed aside the plum stone (he'd pick it up later) and moved to where Raylan had set down the backpack. He picked up the lavender and brought it to his nose. "Would it ruin my reputation as a hardass if I admitted that I actually go in for Eastern medicines and holistic approaches to shit?" The words were spoken softly enough that it might suggest he hadn't meant to say them aloud, though he had to have known they would carry in the small space.

"Will you bring more flowers?" It seemed a simple question, but there was tension in the lean lines of the sniper's body. There was something important in the older marshal's answer.

Holistic only meant to mind the whole body, something that Raylan already had subscribed to himself, just not from the same perspective that most people took in 'holistic'. Some parts of him weren't ever going to get better.

His eyes glanced over the flowers and Tim sniffing them. At least they hadn't been for nothing.

"Like flowers in lieu of lunch, or.. Though I suppose you could boil 'em or somethin', suck the nutrients outta the stems.. If that counts as tea.. Or whatever else is involved in 'Eastern Medicine'." He let a beat pass, eyes finally coming up to meet Tim's. "I will if you want me to."

If you want me.

"The scent," Tim explained turning to look at Raylan and drawing his fingers up along either side of the lavender, pinching it and then reaching to rub it against his temple. "It's soothing. I keep some swatches in my linen drawer back home for my sheets." Yes he had a linen drawer and yes he just used the word swatches.

"Helps me sleep on bad nights when the beer isn't enough." So far it kept him from reaching for the harder sleep aids. Anything and everything that kept him away from drugs, even those that were prescribed.

"This place isn't fit for sleeping at," he continued meeting hazel eyes for a moment and then looking down at the lavender in his hands. "I still sleep at 1308. Get up just before dawn, exit out the window in my room, down the back side of the house. There's a path just across the street, keeps me from crossing any sightlines from 1306. Use the same route back in after dark falls."

He did this in a desperate effort to avoid stirring the pot with either Malcolm, Neal or anybody at 1306 to be honest. Tim had no idea how things stood, only that Raylan had told him to avoid Neal for a bit. From the look of the older man's face, it was advice that would have served Raylan as well.

Raylan knew what the lavender was for, he'd been attempting some levity and apparently not very well. Tim not sleeping here was something, however small a victory. It was just a self imposed exile that no one had asked for or expected.

The older Marshal looked at Tim for a long second before shaking his head, jaw working a fraction of a second before he tucked his feelings away again.

"I dunno why you're doin' this," he admitted quietly, eyes locked on the sandwich he couldn't eat anymore, lips and eye socket pulsing softly in a almost painful reminder of what he'd had to suffer this morning. "The most extreme option."

Tim made a noise. Something that might have been a chuckle, except it was broken and pained in a way that suggested it could just as easily be a barely caught sob.

"I don't know why I'm doing this either," he admitted, turning to set the lavender back down on the backpack. "You told me it would be rough, messy and I thought ..." Tim took a deep breath and scrubbed at his face with his hands. "I don't ... I mean at the time all I wanted was to support you." Tim's mouth worked, as if he was going to say more but kept swallowing back his own words and just sighed. "And I'm not doing a very good job of it."

He dropped his hands and went to look out one of the windows, staring out at the ocean view beyond.

"Maybe something about Neal being angry with me, about someone outside you, Malcolm and I being angry at me, made me realize that I should have managed my initial jealousy better. Not brought everything to a head like what happened, when I realized how important you and Malcolm were to one another."

Raylan might see Tim's retreat as the younger man punishing him. Tim saw the self exile as punishment for himself.

Then don't was his first thought followed swiftly by You regret it. How much of it? All of it? Him? Raylan didn't want things to go back to the way they had been when Tim first got in and settled. It felt like Tim hated him and he still wasn't sure that jealousy was the only answer.

"You don't know anything about why or how I feel about him," Raylan whispered softly. "Neal's just angry. He's taking it out on me. He's not going to take it out on you."

Raylan looked back down and shook his head, lips tucking down at the corners. "I was trying to make sure you had a heads up, not trigger you buggin' out at the first sign of someone outside us knowin'. And I didn't think he'd react the way he did either." But did that mean if they ever did give it a shot at home, that any of the shit they might expect to hear was enough to fracture them?

He took a deep breath. "Look, the point is that its not safe here. Not at night and not for sleep and skirtin' across any part of the land while it's dark is askin' for trouble. If you can't stand to-" He clamped himself off and tried again. "If you don't wanna be on Phillips Drive anymore, fine. I won't stop you and I won't complain. Just not here."

Did he regret it?

Only from the perspective of all the pain it had rained down on Raylan. There was a reason Tim had sat hard on his feelings for the older marshal for almost four years. Admitting them would never have done any good. It would only have destroyed the friendship they did have, which is what Tim felt like was happening here.

He looked at the backpack, the lunch and the lavender well aware that tears were gathering in his eyes, making them glitter. Tim reached up to rub his fingers over his eyes, trying to catch and smear away the tears before they fell. He took a deep breath and then nodded.

"Yeah, okay." He said in a voice that broke slightly. He finally looked at Raylan. The situation was shit and that showed in his expression. "I can do that," he continued softly. "I'll probably keep working on cleaning this place up, it's a good distraction, but I won't decamp here. I'll find a place down in town."

"That I can handle," he replied softly, lifting an arm and gesturing for Tim to come here and not knowing at all if the sniper would.

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