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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Day | Locked to Raylan

You know, he expected Malcolm to come and find him, eventually. Hell, even running into Neal made sense. He's maybe mildly surprised to see Raylan hunting for him, but it seems to be the case when he hears his name from the other man's lips just as he's about to head right into another house, rummage around, pass out for a while, whatever.

It feels less like he's been living a... relatively comfortable life, hiccups aside, and more like he's back home sometimes. Just trying to keep moving, trying to keep his mind busy because shit sucks right now. Whatever the two New Yorkers insist, he's not... feeling especially better about his memories being right on display earlier.

He pauses for a second before he breathes out a sigh and turns to face the cowboy with a nod of his head. He plasters his best grin on his lips. "Well, what's up, Raylan? Missing those little one-one-one Negan chats?"

Evening | Locked to Malcolm

It's the first time in a bit he's bothered to come home, but the relief is almost... palpable. It feels like coming home, even if there's also an edge of danger to it with Doc's general opinion of him. But fuck it, it's three against one for wanting him back in the house, so he's trying to tell him the judgement doesn't fucking matter.

"Hey, fuckers, guess who's back!" He announces after a moment, hands sliding to his hips as he looks around, wondering idly if anyone's even here.

Promises had been made, regardless of if Raylan still had his hat and badge or not and after shoving down all the coils of unwelcome anticipation on what kind of conversation that he was going to find into a spare corner of his mind, the Marshal hit the streets. Neal and Malcolm had given him the location and a great idea on how to get Negan to poke his head out, however rudimentary it was.

He was glad to see it pay off.

Negan stopping was something all on it's own - a good first sign that Raylan hoped continued as a trend.

"Actually, I kinda am. You got a few minutes that I can bend your ear without having to dodge a swing?" He gestured at his still healing face. "I'd like to avoid as many of those as I can, already hit my quota."

There's a laugh huffed out at that and he shakes his head. "Well, you don't swing at me, I won't swing at you. Sounds like a hell of a fair deal, right?"

He idly crosses his arms as he turns to face Raylan properly. "What's going on? You can come in, if you want."

He huffs his own breath behind half a smile. "Sounds like a fair deal, yeah," he agreed, nodding at the invitation and walking up the steps.

"Never much cared for talking for talkin' out in the street about things, anyway. Too many ears." He'd had enough of that for a day too.

"Alright, this way then." He nods Raylan in as he gets the door, stepping inside.

"What brings you here? Something going on?" Besides his soap opera level drama and all that, of course.

"Well-" God he missed his hat, he thought to himself as he stepped in and glanced around, finding a middle of the room neutral to stand in, "-I've actually been sent here on somethin' of a mission. One I agree with."

He let a beat pass.

"We're all gettin' called home. Like, 1306 home, not." Not HOME, home.

"Malcolm's talked to you, huh?" He huffs out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as he shakes his head. Man.

"It's not you, or Malcolm, or Neal... But Doc's got a real problem with me. Not sure it's worth the hassle it could cause you guys if I came back, you know?"

"He'll deal with it. Or I'll deal with him, onna the two," Raylan said with a shake of his head. "The time for all that bullshit is over. You haven't hurt anyone in the house and sentimentality is somethin' that we don't have the luxury of. Not worth the hassle," Raylan scoffed the last words, head pulling back a fraction.

"I already know you know what happened between Neal and I. The fist fight, the argument, the ultimatum. That's more hassle than you and Doc could stir up. So what, we have an argument in the living room and we tell him he's bein' stupid. Someone probably should, otherwise his head is gonna get too big."

He snorts tiredly, shaking his head. Well-- how the fuck can he argue with any of that really? Well, he probably could. He could be a fucking decent son of a bitch and keep himself distance, or...

Well, doesn't matter.

"Alright... alright. I'll come back."

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Malcolm is puttering around making tea, his book face down on the kitchen island when Negan announces himself. Malcolm grins broadly and launches himself at the other man. Tiny human hug torpedo incoming.

You know what, he's finding he doesn't mind that tiny human torpedo all that much, really. His arms come around Malcolm fondly, a laugh leaving him quietly. "Hey, man. Guess somebody missed me."

"Everyone missed you!" he assumes. "Do you want some tea?" He's making tea. He heads towards the kitchen. "Or some lunch? Neal left some food in the fridge."

Uh-huh... Negan's not so sure about that, but he's not going to shit all over the mood going on here. "Tea'd be great. Not too hungry right now."

He's not much of a tea guy either, but hell, he'll take whatever has a little caffeine in it. "How's everything been holding up around here?"

Malcolm gets another mug down and drops a tea bag in.

"Everyone has come back now. You're the last one that was... away."

He pours hot water into the cup.

"Neal and Raylan got into a bit of a fight, but they're okay now."

"Yeah?" He tilts his head, watching Malcolm as he works.

"Good. I mean, not the fight, but... hey, sometimes that's the only way you can settle shit." Hopefully though, they really did bury the hatchet.

"How about you... you okay?"

Malcolm laughs gently.

"Oh, I'm... as okay as I ever am. Found some medicine and... my friends have all come home. I arrived broken; I'm doing... more well than I have a right to, probably."

Doc didn't miss not seeing Negan around at all. After cleaning it up he'd been enjoying the relative peace and quiet, selfish as it was, when the house started to empty out. It gave him time and space to be alone, to think, to not have to wear a mask or go full dad mode on the house. He'd gone ahead and repossessed his old room for a night, trying to keep Negan out of sight, out of mind. Returned the library books about babies and fatherhood - he won't be needing those anymore. He did keep the stuffed toy in the closet, just in case. But he refuses to take it out and look at it. Or have it look at him, taunt him about his baby girl.

But all good things come to an end and Negan walks in on Doc sleeping on his old bed, curled up on his side facing the window. It's probably ill-advised to go poking the bear, but at least the butter knife he was threatening to gut Negan with is now out of reach, sitting sheathed in the gun belt hanging close to the door. Since when did Negan have any semblance of a survival instinct anyway?

"Oh, holy shit--" He doesn't necessarily mean to be loud, but he also didn't expect to stumble into a room he'd-- at least been sleeping in a long while to see Doc back in it. He pauses, stiffens in the doorway as he looks at the sleeping form of the man. His jaw tightens a moment.

He's been laying low as he can, keeping his ass as far out of Doc's way as possible. He's... alright, he can't say he's not suicidal at times, but he's damn sure not going out with someone's fucking butter knife-turned shiv. "If you're awake, I'm just-- gonna go crash in the garage, I guess. Sorry, man."

He wasn't awake at first but Negan gets him up. Negan seems to have a bad habit of getting him up. A quiet, disgruntled little noise gets muffled as Doc buries his face in the sheets before rolling over, shielding his eyes from the light, taking his time to stir.

Had it been someone who'd want him dead he'd be long gone by now. But Doc feels safe enough in 1306 to lower his guard. At least until he lays his eyes on Negan. Then he's sitting up and tugging his singlet down, pulling the sheets up a little while squirming and getting settled in bed.

"What are you doing here?" he asks flatly. If they'd tried talking Doc out of being a great big meaniehead to Negan, he either refused to listen or didn't get the memo.

"You mean in the house or your room?" Not that the distinction matters much in the end. He shifts a little awkwardly and crosses his arms over his chest, leans back against the doorframe rather than come any further into the room.

"Three outta four wanted me back in the house," he answers. "Guess you're overruled right now. The New Yorkers give some real convincing puppy eyes... besides they're kinda going through some shit."

And Doc might think he's a heartless son of a bitch, and in some cases that's not wrong, but how can he turn his back on his people when shit is this messed up?

"As for why I'm in your room... well, I didn't realize you were in here. Guess I'll head out to the garage."

What is this, the Senate? Doc would have pointed out this ain't a democracy, but he'd told Malcolm that this house was meant for him. And, well. It doesn't matter so much what Doc wants, even if it's going to be burdensome to have to keep an eye on Negan on top of everything else he already does for 1306.

"It is my garage." Negan's already taken this room. He isn't taking the garage also. "I will leave."

Just, give him a minute to run his hand through his hair and wake up enough to get out of bed and head downstairs.

He scrubs a hand over his face at Doc's insistence. "No, it's fine. This is also your fucking room. Man, what the hell do you want? I can crash on the couch, then."

If the garage is Doc's and the bedroom is Doc's, then he's fine crashing wherever the fuck he can for a few hours. Sleeping hasn't been coming easy, it's not like he's choosy. "Just lie back down."

If he'd cared at all about what Doc wanted, he wouldn't have come back to the house. Doc doesn't bother dignifying that kind of hypocrisy with a response. It will be a difficult road to get back into the gunslinger's good books and he highly doubts Negan would bother putting in the effort. The New Yorkers are far easier targets to manipulate after all, it would seem.

He watches Negan in the doorway for a little while, a short few seconds that felt like an eternity before he complies, shuffling and lying back down. Tomorrow theyll have the energy to argue and bicker. Right now he's keeping one watchful eye on Negan before burying his face into the warmth of the pillow and enjoying his last restful night.

Yeah, well, Doc's never stared down Malcolm's fucking puppy eyes, has he? Or had Neal cling to him and ask him to stay. It's a balancing act, between keeping those two happy and earning some of Raylan's trust back... and trying to figure out how to navigate dealing with Doc's disgust. He's not sure he's gonna be able to do it... he's too damn old for this.

But fuck it, he's not an actual danger to anyone in this house. Has no intention of harming anyone, really. What's the fucking point? This world isn't like his. It's not gonna solve shit.

When Doc settles back in, he lets out a tired sigh and reaches for the door to let himself out. "Alright, well... good night, Doc."

He's gonna go crash on the couch and hope he actually gets some fucking sleep tonight.

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065-071 » assign to oblivion / part iii

Negan | The Walking Dead

Day & Night (68)

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Day 71 maybe?

That sounds good to me!

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