072-078 » pages of possible futures

[villagemod]

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: Mathias Township proper
WHEN: Days 072-078
WHAT: The future is set in motion once more.
WARNINGS: (PM this account to have a warning added!)
NOTES: Plotting post over here! Next log will be the weekend of July 31.
MOD NOTE: The week did not go as planned. Apologies for the delay on this log and thank you for your patience!

RECOMMENDED ♫ Marco Beltrami "Bad Omens"

DAY 072
“The visions are fragmented and a dark cloud spreads
like spilt ink across the pages of possible futures.”
— Garth Nix
Blue skies greet residents on this bright new morning filled with summer sunshine. It's a day when birds would normally be singing, when there would be boats taken out on the water, children laughing and running through the streets. But in Mathias there is only silence, eerie and almost deafening in its absoluteness, and those blue skies do not stretch on forever. Far off on the horizon are dark clouds stretching ominously in all directions, never moving closer or farther away. They are always there, dark and angry, as if waiting... For what, who can say, but they will remain there for the days going forward, circling the town like a shark circles a meal.

Despite that dreadful darkness in the distance, there is some good news. Residents will also wake to find that their previously missing belongings have returned to them. Clothing and other personal effects are right where they should have been, as if they have always been there, and there is no sign of them having been returned by someone or something. They're just there.

That is, however, the extent of the good news. Residents who visit the Town Hall will find the bulletin board much changed, and those who have thrown caution to the wind and made use the sedatives found within Baneberry Hall will begin to find themselves changing as well. They are easily distracted while awake and plagued by nightmares while asleep. They dream of Mathias burning, fire spreading from the east until it consumes everything in its path. With increasing intensity as the week continues, they will wake with terror gripping their chests and sweat covering their too-hot skin.



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. 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.

---

DAY 073-075
With those dark clouds still hanging on the horizon, some residents may find themselves watching the ocean a little more closely, searching for signs of whatever it is they are beginning to sense is approaching. If they do, they will find those signs, for every so often a dark shape will appear from out of the water before disappearing a few moments later. Residents are welcome to try getting a better look at those shapes, though moving to higher vantage points will be ineffective and swimming may not be the best investigation method.

Nightfall strengthens the sense of that elusive something. Though nothing can be seen in the darkness, there is something out there. They can feel it when they are outside themselves, a heavy presence that their animal instincts warn them against, urging them to flee to safety indoors. But once inside, they can hear whatever is out there in the night, the sounds horrifying and yet utterly indescribable and beyond the limits of their perception.

There is no way to glimpse what might be making those sounds, nor is there any way to properly record them, though attempts may be made to do so.

---

DAY 076-077
The strange occurrences of recent days continue as something attempts to lead residents out into the southern forest should they venture within view of the treeline. Unrecognizable voices may call out incoherently or the sounds of someone moving through the trees may pull at their attention. Or, perhaps, a dark figure entering the forest will catch their eye, pulling them to follow the possibly feminine figure with no discernible characteristics.

Whatever it is, it will lead them along the paths or even away from their relative safety, winding this way and that until they're completely lost within the expanse of sun-dappled trees that seem innocent and threatening at the same time. There is nothing left to do but continue following that figure that is always just ahead at the edge of sight.

Eventually, the trees stop and there is a stretch of clearing, the sky a crisp blue overhead, sun shining down and yet—

That dark figure is still shrouded in shadow, as are the other four that have joined it. All slight with long hair, something feminine in the way they stand with hands held out at their sides, facing outward in a line along the edge of the ravine that borders the township, though for some reason their features cannot be focused on enough for true comprehension. They stand there in silence as if waiting, so close to the edge that a strong wind could easily knock them over into oblivion. A concerned resident might try to stop them; a curious one might try to finally get a better look at the figures that led them to this place. Regardless of the reason, any movement into the clearing toward them will end in the same result.

All five figures step forward as one and disappear into the nothingness below.

The ravine so deep that the bottom cannot be seen and wide enough that the other side is tantalizingly out of reach. At first, there is the sense that safety is just beyond if only they could get there, but with that sensation is also the knowledge that if they stay here, death will be a certainty. The edge seems unsteady, like getting too close would set it crumbling and send them tumbling into that as well...

That is when those who do venture to the edge see the truth of the ravine and what lies beyond it: nothing. There is a neverending dark nothingness below and beyond this ravine, beyond this town, and there is something staring back from within the dark.

---

DAY 078
As morning arrives in Mathias, so too does the storm. Those clouds that hovered in the distance move in quickly, plunging the town into a twilight-like darkness. The rumbling that breaks the silence is like that of a thunderstorm but infinitely more ominous, signaling something approaching that is not meant for the world of man. Within just a few minutes, the residents will learn why as lightning arcs across the sky, the cracks of powerful energy echoing through the air. Those branching spikes at first remain in the sky, but then suddenly they crash down to meet the earth, striking the Lighthouse. The sound of splintering wood and pierced metal fills the air, followed moments later by the roaring crackle of a fire raging into existence. Those cracks and crashes continue as the lightning moves inward, hitting the forest, the beach, and the Grey Gull before moving down Phillips Drive to attack the homes left rotting by time.

While the lightning eventually retreats to the sky, the fire spreads with purpose. It leaps from building to building, consuming everything in its path. It is a living, breathing thing driven by a need to devour. There is no stopping or controlling the almost sentient entity, for it does not behave as fire normally would — it skips buildings before doubling back, burns when there's nothing to fuel it, and seems to almost actively pursue residents fleeing to safety. Ultimately, the fire consumes everything east of the Library, from Jackson Boulevard to the beach and the northeastern forest to the Lighthouse; for an unknown reason, it does not venture farther inland than this.

Ash falls from the sky like snow throughout the town as the eastern half of Mathias glows a terrifying raging red. Residents may seek sanctuary in businesses along the square or in areas in the western half of the town, though the latter will not be without its own risks and consequences.

---

SANITY LOSS

There are multiple opportunities for sanity loss within this log. All instances of such should be reported before the next log.

— BANEBERRY SEDATIVES These will effect all who have taken them, regardless of type, quantity, or frequency, until the storm on day 78. Each night of nightmares will result in 1 point of sanity loss for a potential total loss of 6 points.

— FIGURES IN THE FOREST All who witness the figures jump into ravine will suffer 3 points of sanity loss.

— SEEING BEYOND THE RAVINE Any who see the truth of what is beyond the ravine will suffer 7 points of sanity loss that cannot be recovered. Additionally, any Madness that results from this sanity loss begins immediately.

— DEATH BY FIRE All who are killed by the fire lose 3 sanity points and gain the Madness pyrophobia for seven days, which should be reported. The pyrophobia will be experienced at an intensive level for the duration of the Madness.

---

CONDITIONS UPDATE

— THE WEATHER Summer has arrived in Mathias, bringing with it warm days that average 70°F and comfortably cool nights.

— THE FOG has maintained its recent 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 have ceased for the moment but they're sure to begin again soon.

---

OOC NOTES

— ENDGAME We are officially heading into endgame. Over the next few months, things will begin ramping up and moving toward the always planned conclusion, with the last log projected to go up between the end of October and middle of December.

What does this mean? Essentially, hopefully, this will mean more opportunities to dig into the mysteries and lore of the game, as well as more chances for your characters to creep toward insanity. However, how things progress and what information comes to light will depend upon character interaction with the setting and involvement with the mysteries of Mathias.

— ITEMS FROM HOME All items from home have returned to the exact state and location in which they were last seen. This includes all clothing and possessions they had on their person when they arrived in Mathias (or, for arrivals in the previous log, what they should have had). Items from home that were left behind by other characters no longer in the game have also returned.

— THE FIRE A rough representation of where the fire spreads is available over here.

— REMINDER There are a lot of moving parts to this log, as there will be for all logs going forward. Read the narrative and all OOC notes thoroughly and carefully. Ask questions if something is not clear, but please also look through questions others have asked for further clarification.

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[walkingtrigger]

Those dark eyes, the earnest look in them made Tim want to relent. Raylan made a compelling case for continuing but instincts that had saved the Ranger's ass on numerous occasions were churning his gut.

He wanted to let go but at the same moment felt his grip tighten and with it his resolve.

"I think we're best served to take the hint," he said and for the first time he deliberately stepped back, seeking to pull Raylan with him. "This doesn't feel right, and it ain't just about the town wanting to keep us away."

If anything Tim was starting to feel a pull forward. There had been movement in his peripheral vision and it had taken every ounce of self-control to keep from turning towards the motion. His senses were at in theater levels and screaming TRAP. With each passing breath he felt a growing urge to pull Raylan further and further away.

'You can't have him!' The thought came unbidden and Tim might think more on it later but right now he took a second step back, grip tightening as he was almost to a point that he'd have to try to drag the cowboy if Raylan didn't relent.

[tinstar]

There was something about the way Tim's hand tightened around his arm, the way Tim's face pinched with a very real concern that the Marshal couldn't ignore the plead that was underneath it. It was for Tim's sake that he relented and stepped forward with Tim's backsteps.

"We're not gonna get another chance," he tried, a last ditch effort, even if Raylan didn't realize that's what it was from where he was standing. "The fog is gonna come back, choke this place out, the Lodge it's just-"

But Tim was still moving and Raylan was moving with him, working their way slowly back towards sanity. "It's okay."

It wasn't okay.

[walkingtrigger]

If it worked best in Raylan's mind to frame his retreat as yielding for the sniper's sake? Tim would take it. Because there was a healthy amount of truth to that perspective. This was Tim who wanted to fall back. Whether that was because he was starting to get ants in his pants, or he wanted to get Raylan the fuck out of the woods.

Spoiler. It was both.

It was both and Tim kept them moving. Back through the trees, towards the clearing that would put them back into Mathias.

"It is okay," well no, none of this shit was okay but this decisions? In this moment? "You look like you could use something to eat? How about you come with me ..." he began then paused briefly because down by the ocean might not be the most comfortable spot. "Is there still cocoa in 1308? How about I do the cooking for a change?"

[tinstar]

There was no room in his head right now to frame this in logical terms, in the terms of the trauma he suffered seeing what he did; framing this as a concession to Tim's senses was better. It followed his instinct too - Tim didn't often object to something, being who and what he was, so if Tim said they should retreat, it made the idea more palatable.

Raylan followed, step after step with only a few inevitable glances back as he imagined all the answers that they were walking away from. It's right there.

But he wasn't so far gone that he would tear out of Tim's grasp and run that way.

"Probably," he answered to the question of cocoa at 1308. "Lotta people been stayin' there with the way nights have been. Have you been okay?"

Better that question than following up how poorly Raylan had been taking care of his most basic needs, half evident by the bags under his eyes.

[walkingtrigger]

The way Raylan kept glancing back, it would be a lie to say that Tim wasn't tempted by the idea of answers being just within reach. Then his pragmatic side kicked his mental ass and pointed out that the idea of Mathias just willy nilly giving up her secrets was wishful thinking. Get Raylan back to the relative safety of Phillips Drive.

The younger marshal kept ahold of his partner's elbow as they began to pick their way through the last stands of trees. It was a perp hold but it would allow Tim to keep that physical contact once they were out in the open, where eyes could find them.

Raylan was asking questions. Questions that were not 'the lodge is right there' and Tim was happy to jump on the conversational gambit.

"I've been okay," he answered with deliberate neutrality. "Won't say the sleeps been as good as it was a week ago, which is pissing me off because I'd gotten use to that solid sleep." When scared, freaked out and anxious as hell, getting pissed at the world was typical Gutterson go to response.

"You're looking a little ragged," he pointed out feeling a sense of relief move across his shoulders as they broke clear of the tree line. "When was the last time you slowed down enough to eat or catch more than thirty minutes?"

[tinstar]

Raylan didn't believe him but that didn't matter and was rejected into that pile before it got all the way across his mind. A week ago, Tim had been in his house, now he wasn't. Raylan didn't let that thought get to his tongue either.

Once they broke free from the tree-line, Raylan looked back one more time. Leaving was logically a good idea but he couldn't help the urge to break free and scurry back. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that if he got Tim killed, a) Tim died and b) it'd be another strike on the 'using people' list that Tim had started and Doc had filled out further.

"Doesn't matter. There's too much to do, too much to figure out." There's also no mirrors outside. Raylan had kept himself quiet about it so far in the hopes that it would go away, that he could just avoid it until it did. "I catch a nap at night if I can, I'm fine. What were you doin' out this way?"

[walkingtrigger]

'out this way?'

Raylan made it sound like Tim had moved to the back forty. There was something there, a pocket of pus under a blackhead that needed to be picked open and flushed. It hadn't been lost on Tim that his perspective on moving to King Lane and Raylan's were quite a bit different.

The sniper wasn't sure why that was, as it didn't feel like he'd gone that far. Regardless, it had become somewhat apparent that Raylan seemed to feel differently and they might need to talk about it. Not now though. Right now it felt like the older marshal was on the edge of a complete collapse and the last thing he needed was poking at more scar tissue.

"Checking the bulletin board again, to see if anything had chanced from a few days ago," he began still trying to coax and herd Raylan towards 1308. "Taking a break from staring out at the damn ocean and seeing a whole lot of nothing for my effort." That came with an underlying snarl. The Ranger was definitely frustrated with that bit of bullshit from Mathias.

"Hoping for a reprieve from whatever is fucking with my head down there. Each day it's gotten worse. Feels like my skin is trying to crawl off my bones."

[tinstar]

"Anything answer my message?" Not 'any one'. Anything was more appropriate; if Mathis was going to respond, she would be classified as a 'thing'.

If he was honest, he was glad to have Tim's eyes locked somewhere that needed watching. He'd seen the figures in the water the day before he got lost in the forest with Jeff and they'd left him with a disquiet that was fed by the sounds and bumps haunting them at night. None of which was helped by Raylan's lack of sleep.

"You shouldn't be up there. I won't stop you but you shouldn't be up there."

Raylan was mostly easily herded until they got back onto Phillips Drive, where his feet slowed back down to dragging his heels. He just realized he had no idea where the mirrors outside the bathrooms were. Shit. The idea of seeing anything in reflection, even himself made the idea of going back into the forest logical enough to follow all over again.

[walkingtrigger]

"Mathias is passive aggressive," he said in a dry tone. "Doesn't simply leave you a note, has to get increasingly bitchy night after night."

He made a weak joke of it only because he trusted that Raylan would pick up on the admission Tim had just made. That things were getting worse, and it was no doubt leading up to something ugly on the horizon.

Which dovetailed right into the older man's second statement. Tim took a deep breath and he nodded. "You're probably right," he acknowledged, but when he looked up to his partner's face, his eyes were heavy with the reality that this was the job. He would keep holding point.

When Raylan started to slow, dragging his heels, Tim expected to have an argument coming his way. But when he looked up at the man's face, it appeared as if all the color had drained out.

"Raylan?" He said with a worried sharpness, moving to set one hand at the small of the cowboy's back, the other on his elbow. "What's wrong?"

[tinstar]

Raylan had noted the admission. Tim had admitted it and was choosing the rockier path again. He couldn't stop him. He didn't have the mental acuity to try; that had been given up in his last 2 tries. What Raylan needed was his job and what he was good at. None of what Mathis supplied was what he was good at.

"I don't know where the mirrors are in the house," he whispered fearfully, eyes locked on 1308 and 1306 as his hand started working again at his sides, ring being worried in between it all. "I can't remember."

Tim's hands on him was the only reason he wasn't backing away; the urge to go back was still there. He could go to that other house, across from the graveyard, he knew there weren't mirrors there except in the bathrooms.

[walkingtrigger]

Wait. What?

At first Tim wasn't sure he'd heard right and he turned to look at Raylan with a quizzical expression on his face. But when confronted with the way the older man was staring at the houses, as if they were about to draw on him, and the worrying of his horseshoe ring? The sniper was forced to accept that he had just heard right.

It made no sense and for a couple of breaths Tim's brain refused to process what was happening in front of him. When he was able to throw off preconceived notions, his expression softened. Whatever was going on behind those dark eyes, the demons Raylan was fighting were very real and very dangerous. The Ranger had experienced this with fellow servicemen in the throws of a PTSD episode.

"That's why I'm here," he assured Raylan and his tone was we do this all the time, nothing to see here normal. "I'll go on point, you cover my six and we'll sweep the house. Just like clearing it for perps. I'll take care of the mirrors, but I need you to cover me, okay?"

[tinstar]

He hated this weakness, this fear he couldn't shake or break at the root like he had everything else. He was slowly recognizing what this was, but it hadn't settled in his head yet. Raylan had done very well to avoid mirrors since he got back from the forest, in a blur that eventually found him sat in his chair at 1306.

Running away from fear was also not generally in his repertoire and Mathis hadn't pushed him to a point where he picked it up quite yet, so Tim's assurances were taken with a thick swallow and a shallow nod and the deep, deep desire to have his gun on his hip again. Not that it would help. There were monsters here who were not men and did not bleed. That was outside his forte.

Raylan nodded again with a shaky breath. "Okay. Yeah. Okay." I trust you.

[walkingtrigger]

"Okay," Tim confirmed, giving Raylan's elbow a squeeze and if his fingers lingered a little as he drew them along the older man's lower back, off his hip? Well so be it.

The sniper moved forward, thinking to keep them moving to try to keep Raylan from having time to overthink and panic himself all over again. He didn't know how the older man felt, but Tim always had to battle with the anxiety of waiting. Once he was in motion, everything came into focus.

Using a crabwalk approach, which allowed him to keep an eye on Raylan as well as the house, Tim lead them up the porch. He glanced back at his partner, giving him a nod, then took the door with the same skillful confidence as he would back home.

Usually his eyes were looking for movement signalling a perp. It took Tim a half beat to remind himself that he was after mirror and any obvious reflective surfaces. Just to be on the safe side. In typical Gutterson style, there was no fuss. Anything that could reflect an image back on Raylan was efficiently taken down and spun to face the wall, the Ranger using his body as a shield between Raylan and the mirrored surface.

Tim lead the way, clearing one room, then the next and the next always checking back to make sure Raylan was still with him. As soon as they had the lower level cleared, he tried to lead the older man towards one of the more comfortable sofas.

"Sit here while I get these things stuffed in a closet," so there was no risk of one of them tipping over and becoming a problem. "Do you want me to clear upstairs?" Tim wasn't keen on getting that far away from his partner, even leaving Raylan alone long enough to shove shit in a closet made Tim feel twitchy.

[tinstar]

One of Raylan's hands moved across to touch Tim briefly in return, a passing anchoring point before the sniper took the lead. It helped that it was habit to fall in line behind someone - Just clearing the house - and Raylan did so with another uneven breath.

They paused on the porch and Raylan nodded back, and followed him in a few steps behind. It felt wrong to do this without a gun or a bat or something, creeping around corners like his reflection or something worse was going to eat them. It felt wrong to be doing it at all but the vicegrip around his chest argued that point quite loudly.

Raylan wasn't sure what he would have done if it weren't for Tim's thoroughness, even if he had posted up in the other house. He was grateful for the smaller man's swift actions, taking what would reflect back down and off the walls. It was only once they'd cleared the level that he breathed a little easier, the stressed flexing of his hands eased a bit.

He'd stand, but he'd stand mostly in the area directed, however fidgety he remained. "Yeah. Sorry to ask it. If you could, I'd.." Feel better. "Meantime, I'm gonna.. find a bottle of 'shine, just.. something to take the edge off."

[walkingtrigger]

Moonshine sounded like a great idea and Tim nodded, without thoroughly thinking this through.

"Sure," he agreed, already starting a mental list of where he needed to pull stuff down upstairs, intending to make quick work of it. Something was niggling just off in the peripheral of his conscious thoughts, but he couldn't quite nail it down and in his urge to get the house secure for Raylan, he ignored it.

"I'll be right back," he promised, touching Raylan's shoulder briefly, as much for himself as for the older man, before moving off to head upstairs.

[tinstar]

Raylan nodded, worrying his ring again as Tim darted off upstairs and glanced around the house with an uneasy look. Jeff and Athena would be home at some point. No doubt they'd notice. Maybe they wouldn't, maybe he could avoi- Yeah right.

Wringing his hands together, Raylan headed into the kitchen and dug around under a counter. No shine. He moved onto another one and another one, leaving doors open in his wake until he found the last two bottles stashed away.

"I'm gonna havta refill," he muttered to himself as he sunk back onto the floor and popped the cork off, leaning his long and tired limbs against the wood as he stared at the ceiling and listened to the scratching that he wasn't sure was really there. The echoes of everything they'd all been hearing over the last few nights never really left him in the daytime, or at least, it wasn't today.

[walkingtrigger]

Probably for the best that Raylan went for straight out of the bottle. Tim had not thought to secure the glassware in the cupboards.

It was possible that some of the scratching Raylan heard was Tim upstairs making a nuisance of himself. All the mirrors and pictures came down, including what was in the bedrooms and bathroom. The mirror in the bathroom he had shared with Raylan and Jeff was anchored into the wall leaving Tim with a decision.

The logical move would be to cover the mirror with a sheet and towels but as he stood there, holding a towel in his hands Tim felt a rush of fury wash over him. Anger that he rarely allowed out past his stoic demeanor rose up like bile after a night of heavy drinking and he felt his jaw working as he stared at his reflection. His reflection in this fucking mirror, in this fucking town, that was hurting the man he loved and leaving Tim unable to stop it.

He knew that if he felt this way, what Raylan might be feeling could be ten times worse, but at that moment Tim Gutterson was just pissed. Wrapping the towel around his hand, he hauled back and aimed a punch square for his reflection in the mirror. Glass spidered from the point of impact, allowing Tim to throw a couple more cathartic punches before the shards fell out of the frame and across the counter.

"Shit," he said softly as he looked at the mess. Shaking out the towel he laid the fabric across the worst of the mess and said a silent apology to Jeff before leaving the bathroom.

Making one last sweep, checking behind doors for any glass, Tim cantered down the steps.

"Clear upstairs," he called out as he walked towards the kitchen. "Tell Jeff I'm ..." Tim's voice trailed off as he couldn't immediately set eyes on Raylan and a jolt of panic shot through him.

"RAYLAN?!" he shouting his partner's name even as he stepped into the kitchen and found the older marshal on the floor. Concern for his partner was stark on his pale face and in his blue eyes, only slightly abating when he saw him on the floor.

"Comfortable?" He asked. Leaning a hand on the counter, as he caught his breath and steadied his body against the adrenaline surge he'd just experienced when he couldn't find Raylan.

[tinstar]

The glass breaking was a new noise, recognizable among the others he heard and while his gut told him to go check, his body refused. He trusted Tim to yell if shit was hinkey. Raylan felt hinkey enough as it was, head swimming with flashes of the ravine and what it held there - The women jumping in, the feeling that he should have gone in after them and the conflict of instinct against compulsion.

Time meant nothing - Tim could have been gone five minutes or an hour and Raylan wouldn't have registered it, eyes glazed and lost off into nothingness until Tim was screaming his name like a madman. He jolted a little in his position on the floor, making his eyes all wide and wild again as he searched Tim's face for a hint as to what was wrong.

Tim was scared for him. Shit. Everything in Raylan screamed for him to fix it, but he didn't know how. He didn't know how to fix himself.

"It doesn't move. The ground," he answered lamely before pushing himself up to his feet and circling around the edge of the counter to slide the bottle in front of Tim. "I heard glass upstairs. What happened?"

[walkingtrigger]

"Looked in the mirror and just hated my hair," Tim responded with a quirk of his lips.

He glanced at the bottle and then turned towards the fridge. "How about I make you something to eat, hmm? I meant what I said, you looked comfortable on the floor." It was a discreet encouragement for Raylan to sit back down, and if the older man needed to be on the floor? Then he should absolutely sit on the floor.

Tim's instinct was the reach for the bread and sliced cheese, but he stopped himself at the pantry door. Glancing back at Raylan, Tim grabbed something out of the pantry, but then went to the fridge. He puttered, clattered and rattled about in the kitchen though he never moved to turn on the stove.

Eventually he came to where Raylan had chosen to alight, a bowl in his hand and a soft smile just upturning the corners of his lips.

"Don't know that it'll win any awards for nutritional value," he said as he held the bowl out to Raylan. "Though there's eggs, milk, fruit and nuts?" In the bowl was a banana split. Actually it was vanilla ice cream with a banana cut up in it and sprinkled with walnuts.

"Thought about using the cocoa for chocolate syrup, but figured it would melt the ice cream."

[tinstar]

Tim had smashed them for Raylan. If he was of sounder mind, his chest would have swelled, but as it was, he was left in a thoughtful state of shock about it. They could have covered it, though breaking it was a neater, shorter option. But Tim had done it. Cleared both floors, saving Raylan from the terror that caused no physical harm.

That wasn't done out of pragmatism.

He eyed the sniper as he followed back around and slowly lowered himself to the floor. The floor felt safer, saner somehow. Secure in a way he didn't really understand, and his eyes tracked Tim's shoulders as he moved around. With Tim getting into the fridge too, Raylan narrowed his eyes. All until Tim turned around.

"Wait," he said shifting to sit up a little straighter, one leg folded in under the other as the moonshine was set aside. "We have ice cream?"

It wasn't Legos or Saturday morning cartoons, but Raylan loved ice cream on the basis that all humans loved it. Some part of him was always going to be an eight year old fisting a cone that is being greedily consumed.

It was weird, but Tim couldn't have done anything more perfect for the situation. Raylan took the bowl, crossing his legs as he settled and looked back up at Tim.

"Get two spoons, you're splitting this with me." Not because he couldn't put it away all on his own. He could. But he wanted to share it.

[walkingtrigger]

"Well," Tim said with a slight waggle of his hand. "We had ice cream sandwiches." He'd peeled off the sandwich part and helped himself to the ice cream.

Though the meger fare was meant for Raylan there was no question of Tim refusing that request. He reached into the drawer and collected the two spoons before stepping up beside the older man and lowering himself down to sit on the floor next to him.

If Raylan felt safest on the floor, then they would sit on the floor.

Handing over a spoon, the smaller man wracked his brain briefly for a conversational gambit. But each opening question or statement that came to mind was quickly shuffled away. He was desperately curious about what had happened that Raylan was in his current state, but it seemed to him that the older marshal needed a break from whatever was haunting him. Raising the topic felt almost cruel and while Tim could be cruel when necessary, this didn't feel necessary.

He briefly toyed with tossing out some bullshit bit of small talk, but it seemed to him that he and Raylan had never needed idle chatter to fill a space. Especially as they had settled into their partnership, stakeouts had been quiet but it had been a comfortable sort of silence; companionable.

So with conversation off the table Tim decided to pursue another, thoroughly adult and reasonable route of interaction. He began to wait till Raylan's spoon was heading for a bit of banana, or a walnut and then he scooted in there with his spoon for the attempted steal!

[tinstar]

"Oh, the fanciest of ice cream cold cuts." But only because it was vanilla.

Raylan grinned as Tim dug into the drawer and returned with two spoons, settling himself into a more comfortable position where Tim would fit in next to him seamlessly. He couldn't say why he found the floor safe, likely because of the embrace of the cabinets gave him a protection from bullets and Arlo seeing a young target to turn his fury onto.

Taking the spoon, Raylan had zero reservations about diving in and scooping a bite into his mouth, eyes smiling at Tim and a little less heavy for it. There was no darkness here. Nothing to drag or chase him into the pit, just ice cream and Tim. He was grateful for the lack of dive into what made him the way he was right now; it would hold. It would all still be there once this little bubble Tim had built popped back into their reality.

Besides, apparently, he had to defend his fruit and nuts!

Tim's swipe was half successful, managing to touch the nuts Raylan was going after before the Marshal pushed his spoon away. It was a brief moment of chaos before Tim got the bite and Raylan found himself grinning as he dove in for another bite while Tim's spoon was busy.

[walkingtrigger]

The kitchen was quiet, save for the sound of clinking spoons, slurps, and soft masculine chuckles as Tim fenced with Raylan for fruit and nut privileges

As the older man proved to be more experienced at ice cream defending, the younger marshal went for the next level of attack! Getting a little dollop of ice cream (not enough to be wasteful) on his spoon, he quickly moved in with the intention of attempted to smear the ice cream on Raylan's nose.

[tinstar]

Raylan blinked, head pulling back a few inches with it as he registered what just happened before breaking into an earnest and deep chested laugh before clearing his spoon, smearing it's back in cream and striking out to mark Tim's cheek.

"Wasteful." It wasn't really an admonishment.

[walkingtrigger]

Tim had been certain that Raylan would never waste ice cream in retaliation, so the spoon landed on his cheek, smearing the cream over his skin. The sniper blinked, quite possibly resembling a started owl, before he began to laugh.

"So that's how it is, Givens?" He teased before reaching to dip his finger tip into the melted ice cream along the side of the bowl. Fingertip armed, he was heading for an ear!