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

"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.

The Tim before everything that had happened between them, would have held his ground. The younger man knew that was what he should do. But the truth was, all he'd wanted since that night (was it really just the night before??) was his partner's arms.

He came readily, almost tripping over himself in a show of undignified haste that had him practically falling into Raylan's arms. Tim's arms went around the older man, hands hooking up over his shoulders as he clung with a desperation that no words would ever be able to address.

The competent, self-reliant, always had his shit together, sniper pressed his face into Raylan's shoulder and broke into sobs. Crying with a strength of emotion his logical side tried to tell him he had no right to feel, but once started he couldn't stop.

The Raylan before everything happened wouldn't have offered it. Their whole relationship, as it was, was because of one conversation and the way Tim had been acting. It really matter if it was the right or wrong choice anymore. It happened and allowed either of them to be here.

He wasn't hesitant in the way he wrapped Tim up and into his shoulder, or in the way he pressed his lips into the younger man's hair.

"It's okay, darlin', everthing's gonna be alright," he muttered softly against all that blonde with a tone that suggested gently that Tim could let it out.

Rachel would shit herself if she walked in.

Or roll her eyes and point out that this was why ovaries trump balls for toughness.

Tim hadn't expected to be pushed away, Raylan wasn't that cruel without being given damn good reason. But the 'darlin' further broke him down and his fingers clenched into the older man's shirt as he sobbed even harder.

Emotions were complicated things even at the best of times and nothing about Mathias was 'the best of times'. The clinical part of his mind recognized that before coming here, before he and Raylan's everything, Tim had walled up a lot of emotions that had nothing to do with interpersonal relationships between himself and his office. An extent of which he was coming to realize he'd lost track of himself.

He had known enough to bring up the topic early on. That the walls being pushed at held back a mess that Tim wasn't sure he was equipped to handle gracefully. What was going on right now, it shouldn't have turned him upside down as it had. It wasn't him who had been cheated on, it wasn't him who had to navigate the turmoil of being yelled at, kicked out of his house and everything else that Malcolm and Raylan had gone through.

Yet here he was, going sideways.

The younger marshal wanted to pull himself together, find words to admit a couple of things that he knew he needed to say; to own. But even as he drew a breath to speak, he found himself just ugly crying harder and unable to do anything but let it happen and hope Raylan didn't drop him on his face. Especially when he realized how much the mess soaking through his shirt was snot as well as tears.

Tim could take his time. Raylan wasn't going anywhere. His shirt could be replaced and he had no where to be. It didn't much matter if Tim had rights or should be feeling any kind of way - he felt what he felt.

Raylan couldn't do this - this breakdown of feeling and emotion that Tim and Neal and everyone else seemed to do, even if it wasn't easy for them. Was there something wrong with him? That made it so he couldn't, no matter how desperately he wanted to.

Maybe Tim was going sideways for both of them.

If that was the case then Tim was doing his utmost to get their value worth of sideways.

He would cry himself to exhaustion, to a point where his body just went almost limp. The hold of his hands on Raylan's shoulders and the lean of his body into the older man's arms all that held him up. What was frightening was the fact that inside Tim felt like he'd only put a crack in the dam. That there were more tears waiting for him, like scarab skittering around in the dark, ready to slide under his skin.

He gave a small hiccup and kept his face pressed to the ruined shirt, though now he was also hiding as well as seeking comfort.

"It's me, Raylan." His voice was hoarse, cracked and nasal from his now stuffed up nose. "It doesn't make me proud and I don't have an answer for it, but it's me who'd struggle seeing you disappear into 1306 at night." He'd developed mechanisms for coping with watching Raylan swan off with this leggy blonde or that leggy blonde. Those mechanisms had been torn down here in Mathias, leaving him feeling exposed and hopelessly vulnerable.

"Maybe that makes me a coward. Weak. I don't think I can rattle around in your house, in 1308 like a ..." the words faded on another hiccup. "House of my own, space of my own feels safer right now."

"I wish you had come to me last night." Raylan shook his head, rubbing a hand across Tim's shoulder. His own feelings were very purposefully tucked away. They didn't matter, voicing them didn't matter and it wouldn't change anything. Better then, to simply not think about them.

"That's fine. Just somewhere I can get to you.. If you want me to still get to you. Do you? I know you regret it and I'm sorry. So I gotta ask if you still want me to."

Edited 2021-07-04 23:29 (UTC)

That ...

Tim drew his head back and looked up at Raylan with genuine confusion and a face that was absolutely NOT cute when cry ravaged.

"I didn't think I was allowed?"

"Tim," he started, a hand coming up to slide around Tim's jaw, fingertips dipping into his hairline. "I did not bring you break-up lunch and flowers. Who says you weren't allowed? All I just went through; 'course you're allowed. It's why I went through all of it in the first place. Not to give you up."

Edited 2021-07-04 23:52 (UTC)

The younger marshal continued to look confused.

"Last night," he began, leaning his head slightly into the comfort of Raylan's hold. "You called me, but I thought that was all it was supposed to be. That you needed time for yourself, maybe time for you and Malcolm and," Tim licked his upper lip and looked down at the scruff on Raylan's chin. "I was afraid to ask and hear you say no."

The sniper gave a watery chuckle/sob and closed his puffy eyes for a moment before he whispered, "I don't know how you're managing ... any of this?" Not the managing of himself, of Malcolm and of Neal. But how Raylan was doing; himself.

Part of him had wanted Tim to show up and kiss away his soul aches and pains, reward him for his sacrifice, the effort, but the other half of him was glad Tim didn't. Raylan felt he deserved the isolation, the loneliness, the self-loathing. Like a whipping to remind him what he'd done wrong.

"He went home. The better option, considerin'. It was Doc's night anyway. Maybe he.. made him feel better." Raylan hadn't. "You shoulda asked," he whispered, leaning in to press a kiss against Tim's forehead. The hand at his jaw slid back around his shoulders and Raylan leaned their weight on the counter.

"I plan on getting blind drunk tonight, mostly," he huffed, with a sad truth to it. "It's mostly one moment at a time, if I'm honest. Step one then two than three.. Some steps got added in that I wasn't plannin' for but.. It all had to be done. Woulda been uglier if I hadn't, you gotta believe that. Might be hard now but.. It was for the best. You know that right?"

They both knew it was for the best. Even if there was a little part of Tim that wanted to ask why it was for the best. That selfish bit of child that no one ever completely gives up, but which is managed by growth and adulthood.

"I know," he confirmed, because he did but it also felt as if Raylan might need to hear the reassurance as well. The sniper went into his lover's hold, his arms wrapping tightly around Raylan's torso, long fingered hands splayed up along the line of his spine as he pushed his face against the older man's throat.

"In case it needs to be said, I am humbled by your bravery," Tim continued. "Already knew you were strong, stronger than we give you enough credit for, but what you did to protect him, to protect me?" The sniper made a few aborted noises, as he picked up words and set them down as inane. Eventually he leaned back and looked into Raylan's face, bloodshot eyes searching.

"I cannot imagine you're alright, Raylan. Tell me, what am I missing?" He whispered back the words that the older man had used on him just the night before.

Somehow, Raylan's next breath was easier to take with Tim wrapped around him such a way and he relaxed into the hold a little more weightily. He did need the reassurance. "Doesn't need to be said, strictly speakin'.. but I can't say I don't appreciate hearin' it."

Tim pulled back and Raylan met his eyes without hesitation, but not without some pained sadness in his eyes.

"You're gonna tell me I'm silly. But I risked everything and now everything's different in a way I didn't expect it to be. You were fine with me goin' over there every other night, you know what it is to be trapped in your own head. Everyone's so damned worried about what my dick is doin' to realize it's not in rotation most of the time. Yeah. Malcolm is important to me, just like you're important to me. And Henry. I can't leave any of you alone. I won't leave any of you to bein' alone. I can't. Not anymore. Not after so many people failed to make that bar. Not since I know I can. I am good for them, just like I am good for you and you're all good for me. And I know everyone wants my everything, but I promise that y'all would get tired of me. I know you would."

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