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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“Handling my… well, not everything,” he said with a coy look, “but my nightmare things… has been a team effort from the start,” he pointed out. “And understandably. And the parts that you alone handle… have zero complaints.”

Raylan found himself grinning crookedly at the last. The reassurance was soothing, especially with such a compliment at the end.

"I'd say that I don't think that you're needin' more than one person to help you sleep but I realize you don't let anyone sleep with you at home. I'd like to think that at home, once we both stabilize, that I'll be able to. My nightmares at home aren't nearly as active as the ones I've gotten here."

At home I’ll be able to…

After his recent certainty that a future for them was shattered, the future returned, just falling casually out of Raylan’s mouth, and Malcolm stared at him at him a moment before his expression faltered, warmth and happiness warring for dominance there a moment until he kissed Raylan urgently.

“I’ll get better restraints,” he murmured. “Better safe than sorry.”

He wasn't quite sure what he said to earn such a crumple into earnest expression but he would take it and the kiss and warmth that followed it, curling into it as fractionally as he could in their position.

"That sounds like a plan." Had it been because of the 'at home' comment? Raylan's smile crept further up. "I still think about it, you know. What life will be like with you back there. Doc's wrong. If you can handle me comin' in at two am after being awake for three days, and possibly getting shot at, I'd be happy to share life with you."

Raylan knew he was playing two different hands of poker right now. One with Malcolm, one with Tim. He almost felt guilt about the obvious contingency plans but this was the best way to keep the peace and keep his own bit of happiness, for however long it lasted.

Malcolm’s expression was rather openly endeared. Smitten, even.

“As long as you tell me about the cases,” he suggested. “When I’m working, my hours are pretty similarly unpredictable.”

Malcolm loved him. Malcolm loved him.. Raylan didn't take that for granted, didn't take the fact that this impossibly sweet, understanding man was willing to snuggle into him after all the shit they'd seen and been through.

"All the details. All my leads. If you'll donate that beautiful brain of yours towards the effort. Give me your opinion and everythin'. Some of 'em are gruesome but I get a feelin' that that's your kinda show. Lotta mines though, I gotta warn you."

Malcolm loved him so much, he thought his heart might burst.

“Gruesome is my specialty, but I don’t know a lot about mines. …Do we have to go down in them?” he asked curiously and with maybe a little trepidation.

"No," Raylan assured with a huff of breath. "We call in specialists to do that. Most all of them are abandoned, which makes them structurally questionable. Anything that's down there, they'll bring up to us for examination. No posing of bodies down 300 feet."

"I expect it's easy for a medical examiner to determine whether the fall killed them or if they were dumped afterwards," Malcolm conceded. "Do they find bodies down there a lot? Is it a popular place to dump them?"

Exactly so. Raylan wasn't surprised, of course, but he liked watching Malcolm absorb information.

"It is. They're not checked unless someone reports somethin', so we'll often find other bodies when recovering a fresher one.. I put Cooper Bennett down a well to keep him from puttin' Loretta down one and even then, there's the question of if I killed him or if the fall did."

Not a lot of men survived full contact, close range to the chest bullets though.

Malcolm considered that.

“Where did you shoot him?”

He assumed Raylan shot this person; the pistol was his weapon of choice.

"Twice in the chest, point blank range. He went down instead of me or Loretta." He wasn't sorry about Cooper Bennett. The man was a weed-soaked shitstain.

"Trust me, Harlan was better off without it. Put a dent in the Bennett's weed farmin' too." Good things all around.

Malcolm had no doubt whatsoever that the shooting was necessary; that wasn’t why he’d asked.

“Two in the chest. You definitely punctured at least one lung. Say you hit an artery… we’re talking fatal exsanguination in minutes. But he fell 300 feet? He’d hit the bottom in about four seconds. Even feet first, it’s not a survivable fall. Luckier for him if he went head first. Either way, the impact probably killed him before the bullets. Statistically.”

"Fancy word for bleedin' out?" If it was anyone else, Raylan wouldn't ask, but he knew that Malcolm wouldn't think less of him for not going out right now to find a dictionary when there was one in his arms.

"I'd have to look at the autopsy report but I trust that you're right. Still, you know how the Law can be. Officer still fired, resulting in the death of the suspect. Always a lotta paperwork, gotta get a new gun.. Anyway, most people we find down there are dumped. Killed topside and tossed in. I bet if Kentucky bothered to find all the mines and dredge 'em, we'd find enough bodies to fill a cemetery at least."

He nodded confirmation at the question, his eyebrows raising at the final observation.

“I take it there’s no interest in doing that? Finding the missing? For their families?”

"The resources needed for no promised results while we got solid leads and people that need help now trump that. Any tip or lead we get, we follow. If we think there's someone down there, we look." They wouldn't leave people out there.

"Learn what not to say, learn what to let go, and if you can handle gettin' some shit about your suits, you'll be fine," he assured with a soft pull of his smile. "Even if they'll have never seen anyone like you."

The compliment was so sweet and so casually thrown at him that he couldn’t stop himself from grinning like the goofy idiot in love that he was.

“Being a weird outsider is my specialty, but I’m not great at letting things go. I’ll have to work on it,” he said, leaning in to give Raylan a tender, lingering kiss. He stayed in the space of Raylan’s breath to murmur “I like being in that picture with you.”

Every grin, every smile was a victory and a treat to be celebrated an Raylan found himself grinning back.

"Few lessons to be taught, you might get it," he mumbled before his lips were caught up in that kiss that had him curling in with another little hum of satisfaction. "I like you bein' in that picture with me. We're gonna have to get a sturdy bed though, get you some BDSM level strength restraints for when we're home. Make all those jokes that Klaus made at the dinner party come to life. Scandalize Winona or somethin'."

Malcolm laughs. “And your neighbours, probably,” he suggests, tracing a line along Raylan’s collarbone with restless fingers.

He watches Raylan’s face for a moment. He seems serious. He means it. At least in this moment, he really does mean it. Part of Malcolm wants to address the elephant in the room - Tim and the fact that he works with Raylan - but the rest of him shoves that part under a rug in the back of his mind. This makes him happy.

“If I only use one restraint, will you hold me?”

Raylan had to ignore the twist of self-loathing and shame that came with that suggestion, that people outside of who Raylan would choose to inform would know, but he violently shoved that knee-jerk reaction into a box and kicked it down his stairs.

Grinning at the way that sounded, Raylan lifted his eyebrows with a faint nod. "Who says you even need the one? Darlin', even if you had to be strapped down to the bed, I'd hold you if you wanted me to."

Raylan was serious. He did mean it. He just refused to make a decision that would hurt them all now when they didn't know what was waiting for them at home. Yes, it was him putting his head into the sand, but there was enough hard decisions and hard things here already. He needed good things to balance out all the hell and his own flaws and head. Ruining that wasn't something he could do easy.

"I'm sure it'd be tolerable once we're in a place that has the meds you need."

For once, the first response in his head isn’t ‘what if it’s not?’. A watery smile that’s only verging on the edge of happy tears meets Raylan’s declaration and he kisses him fiercely.

He brushes his nose against Raylan’s jaw, then rolls to reach for the far restraint.

“I’m going to use one,” he decides. He looks at Raylan over his shoulder as he buckles it. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he explains, before shifting position and reaching for him with his free hand. “Come here.”

Those were the only kind of waterworks that Raylan ever wanted to inspire; those happy almost tears at the simplest idea of just sleeping and his hands tightened on him briefly before he smiled and leaned into the brush of Malcolm's nose. How did he ever get so lucky?

"We can renegotiate later, but I'll take it for now," he murmured, scooting in and leaning into whatever Malcolm was going to pull him into, what he assumed was going to be a kiss. After it broke, Raylan kept their faces close.

"I love you Malcolm Whitly Bright. I want you to remember that, no matter what happens."

“I won’t forget,” he promised, a little blindsided hearing that name applied to him sound like acceptance rather than condemnation. “Just… don’t disappear on us,” he added knowing Raylan had no control over that, but his grasp tightened a fraction anyway.

"I'll try," Raylan promised, tangling their legs together. "However I can."

The name seemed natural in Raylan's mouth, so he didn't give it a second thought. He was sure that Malcolm had a middle name; everyone in the North seemed to, says the man with his own, but both the Whitley and the Bright had to be acknowledged. He was neither. He was both. Malcolm was a conflict of names and it perfectly fit the chaos of the man.

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065-071 » assign to oblivion / part iii

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