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

While it was true that Neal had said that Raylan could come home, Raylan took his time doing it, just in case Neal changed his mind. He wanted things to be okay with the New Yorker and the conversation they'd had with Malcolm had helped, only time would settle back the comfort and trust that had been shattered over everything. After that conversation, Raylan had gone up to the lighthouse to see Tim. Things had gone well, better than he expected, but he still needed to decompress. To wash his bruising face, take a shot and a deep breath, thank whoever was listening for what he got to have.

It felt a little strange walking into 1306 but it only took a few steps for Raylan to slip back into the coat of home he wore here, and make his way upstairs to Malcolm's room. Ever the gentleman, he does knock first, like he was warning Malcolm he was coming in before doing just that. Eyed darting around the room, they settled on Malcolm with a soft curl of his smile.

"May I come in?"

All of Malcolm’s bruises were on the inside, but they were starting to dull like the ones on Raylan’s face would in time. Raylan’s face - even bruised - still held its power and when it appeared in the doorway, Malcolm brightened visibly.

“You can always come in,” he said tugging on the far restraint he’d been fiddling with when Raylan arrived. “I had to hook two straps together on each side,” he explained. “So they’re long enough I can get myself in and out.”

"No trouble gettin' them back on a non-medical bed?" he asked as he came in and closed the door behind him. It was habit to reach up for his hat, but it was long gone and he covered the gesture by running his hand through his hair, somehow nervous for being in here again after everything.

"Don't suppose I have to ask to sit down or get in, do I?" This question came with a smile as he sat down, one hand propping over the far side of Malcolm with a tilt of his body. "Long day, huh. You okay?"

Malcolm looked up sharply to protest the idea of him having to ask to join him, but he was already sitting down, leaning over, so it relaxed into a smile of warmth tinged with relief.

“No, the hardware is actually better than what we were using before.” He smiled up at Raylan. “I held on to that screwdriver,” he said, tapping his nose.

He set he cuff down and turned more towards Raylan. “I think it was probably longer for you.” He reached up and ran a knuckle underneath one of the bruises gently. “Are you okay?”

"Good," he praised, letting his smile spread a little. "No risk of you getting hurt more."

He sighed softly at the question, eyes dancing over Malcolm's face as his cheek leaned into that touch a fraction. Was he okay? No, but he would figure out how to be. "I just need some rest is all, I'll be fine."

Raylan wanted to lean forward, to kiss Malcolm, reassure him in the best way the he knew how except- If he did, was Malcolm just going to think about Raylan kissing Tim? Instead, Raylan straightened again and pulled a foot up to start picking at the strings.

"So long as tomorrow is better, I won't complain. Neal isn't leaving or flyin' off the handle, I still have a place to call home and best of all, I get to crawl in beside you," he said, dropping one shoe after the other on the floor. "No offense to any of the other beds in Mathis but it's weird sleeping off Phillips Drive. I don't particularly care for it. Except maybe a great once and a while."

Malcolm couldn’t think about anything when Raylan was kissing him. For a moment, he thought he might. He started to lean forward a fraction, but then Raylan turned to take his shoes off.

At his observations, Malcolm smiled softly.

“You know everyone’s close if something happens.”

A beat.

“You know you can still crawl in here at any time, right?”

"That's true," Raylan grunted as he reached over his shoulders and pulled his shirt off, letting Malcolm get a glimpse at the bruises that Neal had left over his chest and side.

"You sure," he asked with a little lift of his eyebrows. "After everything, I sorta feel like I should knock and show up with flowers every time." Raylan worked his jeans off and crawled into bed, laying on his side to face Malcolm and letting the younger man have full control over how close he scooted or if Raylan was allowed to get comfortable around him.

"Like I'm already pushin' my luck somehow."

Malcolm's eyes tracked those bruises while Raylan undressed and slid into bed before moving back to his face as Malcolm scooted up close, face to face for the moment, a leg hooking over Raylan's thigh, though he would claim his Raylan-wrap when it was time.

He considered those words. He gave them the respect of genuinely considering them for a moment.

"I don't want what we had to change," he said finally, his fingers fidgeting at Raylan's shoulder. "I think my largest concern at this point is that you're overextending yourself and that, if you're stretched too thin, I'll be the first to get cut. That I'm the least suitable or the least compatible or the most difficult or the least attractive. But I also recognize that that's my insecurity, not anything you put on me. You were very clear that you didn't want to give me up." His fingers tightened on Raylan's shoulder. "I was very honest when I said I didn't want to lose you," he added, meeting Raylan's eyes. "No matter what. So... no flowers necessary. Just. Keep showing up."

Laid out in bed felt good but Malcolm wrapping around him felt better and he slid an arm over Malcolm's waist even though it left a few inches between them. It didn't matter; he was here. He was allowed to be here.

His face pinched the further on Malcolm got and he shook his head against the words. No, never. Raylan had done too much and worked too hard and bent to far to do that to Malcolm. To one of the first men that worried and fussed and loved over him, and continued to do so to this day.

"I wouldn't be here and sane the way I am if it weren't for you and Henry, you know that right? I don't. Want to give you up. Or be given up. And you ain't got anything to worry about in the beauty department," he assured as he tugged and pulled Malcolm a little closer to him, face pinching again with seriousness.

"I love you, Malcolm. You're not difficult, you're beautiful and I'm the luckiest man in Mathis for you being and still bein' here," he continued, one hand sliding up around Malcolm's jaw as he brought their foreheads together.

"I'mma keep showing up as long as you let me. Because you're amazing and I want to be here."

Malcolm took careful shaky breaths for a moment, his fingers fidgeting over to Raylan’s collarbone, lingering there in their restlessness before he tilted his chin out to claim a kiss with the desperation of someone finding something they weren’t sure they would see again.

There was no hesitation to the way Raylan's hand slipped further around Malcolm as he was kissed, body weight rocking back and then forward to put Malcolm half underneath him. Yes, Malcolm had kissed him before he left the day before but it wasn't this. It wasn't the raw fever of need and open security that they got here, tangled in bed together.

Breathless, he broke the kiss but kept their faces the fraction of an inch apart - all he needed to breathe. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

Malcolm’s fingers splayed across Raylan’s cheek, lingering there even as Raylan lifted his head fractionally to speak, and the leg hooked around his thigh shifted to hook his hip as he rolled onto Malcolm.

Are you done with me now?

No. I am not DONE with anyone.

A gasp that was some sort of gutteral sound of relief came from the back of Malcolm’s throat at Raylan’s words and he kissed him again, needfully, hungrily in response.

Raylan meant every word. There had been some idea in his head that he wouldn't succumb to baser needs, but there was no denying what Malcolm needed. What he needed to provide. What he wanted to provide.

He sunk into the kiss and rolled the rest of his weight over, one hand sliding down to push up under Malcolm's shirt. Their tongues wrestled and Raylan breathed his own note of pleased relief before breaking the kiss with a roll of their foreheads.

"Are you sure?"

Malcolm swallowed heavily, a little breathless when he answered.

“I’ve been sure since you made me eggs after the moonshine party,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly.

He broke a glass. He bled all over their floor. They had to tackle him, screaming and thrashing, to the ground. And then they put him at their kitchen table and Raylan served him eggs. He’d already saved his life in the lighthouse and helped him get cleaned up and on his feet. By the time he put the entirely too large serving of eggs in front of him, it was over.

He’d just thought that Raylan and Doc were a couple back then.

His fingers trail up Raylan’s cheekbone to thread through the hair at his temple tenderly. “I’ve been sure every day since.”

Raylan's breath caught in his throat equally as Malcolm answered, dark eyes studying what he could see of Malcolm's features, of those blue eyes that trusted and gave him so much and asked so little in return. Head tilting into the touch, Raylan lowered himself back down and kissed Malcolm more sweetly, breaking it to keep their faces close.

"I love you, Malcolm Bright. And I will spend the rest of my days here provin' it at every opportunity." An opportunity that was before him now too, and a hand slid up under Malcolm's shirt, running his thumb back and cross against Malcolm's side. It was a silent ask. Did Malcolm want to do this?

Malcolm reached for the hem of Raylan’s undershirt, pulling it off over his head and tossing it over the side of the bed.

That was a yes.

He leaned up to kiss him again, fingers sliding up into his hair.

He hummed a throaty sound as he got to lay their chests together, tongue dipping into Malcolm's mouth to draw him out into a less chaste dance. His closest hand slid up Malcolm's arm and pulled it down to the bed where clever fingers worked the restraint open so he could toss it casually off the side of the bed.

"We're workin' on better," Raylan murmured, hands moving down Malcolm's body until his thumbs hooked on his own boxers, tugging and working them off. But once they were lost in the shuffle of feet, Raylan hooked a leg around Malcolm's and rolled over, taking Malcolm with him.

Those sleep pants needed to get somewhere that wasn't between them.

Malcolm was distracted by Raylan’s face for a moment and by kissing it again before he managed to wiggle out of his track pants and kick them onto the floor. He glanced over his shoulder when they fell, then the full weight of his attention fell squarely back on to Raylan.

“I still have extra shampoo in the drawer,” he murmured before claiming another, hungrier kiss, hands sliding over Raylan’s shoulders and then back and down his chest.

"Good, then we don't need to go anywhere and risk your sister seein' either of our asses," he chuckled as he met the kiss with equal fervor, hands sliding up Malcolm's thighs to smooth around his hips and up his back and back down again before he was sliding his hand between them to capture their cocks in his palm and give a teasing stroke.

"But you don't want it or nothing, so maybe not," he teased, nipping at Malcolm's lips playfully.

Malcolm breathed out an almost self-conscious laugh at that. Already hard in Raylan’s hand, the stroke elicited another sound from the back of Malcolm’s throat as he ground into it. He clearly didn’t want it at all. A messier kiss followed as he shifted his hips to put more friction on Raylan’s length in that hand.

“Humour me anyway,” he murmured into Raylan’s mouth.

Raylan smiled into the kiss, tongue wrestling with Malcolm's before he broke the kiss with a lift of his head. "Can I tell you somethin'? You got any idea how many times I've thought about those lips of your wrapped around me?"

It was a chance; they hadn't branched out much, Raylan hadn't asked, Malcolm hadn't offered, but now was as good a time as any.

The corners of Malcolm’s mouth lifted a little.

“You think about me?” For some reason, he’d assumed that their time in the bedroom was contained there for Raylan, that he didn’t think about Malcolm like that all the time. His smile lifted a little more and a little more naughtily and he pressed a brief kiss to Raylan’s mouth, and then his chin, and then his collarbone, working his way slowly down the other man’s body, glancing up at him from just below his sternum.

"Course I do," he husked in return. "I think about you all the time." And he did. Oh the dirty thoughts that had crossed his mind, laced up under the love and protectiveness he had for Malcolm. One in particular that was highlighted with the hitch of his breath as Malcolm looked up at him from under those thick eyelashes, delicious lips curled in a intoxicating smile.

"I love watchin' you enjoy yourself." The admittance came through a tight throat as his hands resettled on Malcolm's elbows, the rest of his too soft flesh out of reach as dark eyes watched the new yorker from above. "But I'm guessin' you already knew that."

His smile spread to a grin.

“I deduced it,” he admitted, shifting further down to set a kiss above his belly button and along his pelvis and one more to the inside of his thigh, his hand sliding down the other thigh and back up and across to skim his balls and grasp his length, giving it an experimental stroke before looking up at him and sliding him into the moist heat of his mouth.

There was an involuntary shudder of pleasure across Raylan's stomach, accompanied by an equally half had breath as his legs spread to make room. Even though he knew it was coming, seeing Malcolm down there looking up at him filled him with a sweet anticipation that broke with the press of him into that moist heat.

Raylan's eyes fluttered with a throaty groan that he couldn't control, fingertips trying to find purchase in whatever they could and settling on the sheets beneath him as his head rolled back for a half second. He forced himself to open his eyes, to look down, to savor every second of it as his hips lifted.

"You're so goddamned handsome," he managed out of a tight throat, one hand lifting to card into Malcolm's hair and settle there. It was no pressure as to how fast or how much Malcolm took, he was in control of that, but Raylan wanted to touch him.

Night 66

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