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I HAVE COME TO SPREAD NEWS OF THE NEXT REVOLUTION AHEAD OF US.
A REVOLUTION THAT WILL END THE WORLD AND HEARLD THE NEW ONE.
CORRECTION: HERALD
A REVOLUTION THAT WILL END THE WORLD AND HEARLD THE NEW ONE.
CORRECTION: HERALD
Edited 2021-09-21 03:32 (UTC)
NO I'M ACTUALLY VERY SOBER BECAUSE I'M A RECOVERING ALCOHOLIC.
THIS IS, FORTUNATELY, VERY TRUE AND REAL.
CHANGE IS COMING FOR ALL OF US.
AND IT WILL BE BEAUTIFUL.
THIS IS, FORTUNATELY, VERY TRUE AND REAL.
CHANGE IS COMING FOR ALL OF US.
AND IT WILL BE BEAUTIFUL.
Edited 2021-09-21 19:58 (UTC)
THE CHANGE IS COMMUNISM.
IT'S COMING WHEN ALL THE OTHER IDEOLOGIES COLLAPSE IN ON THEMSELVES.
AND IT'S BEAUTIFUL BECAUSE IT'S A FAILURE.
IT'S COMING WHEN ALL THE OTHER IDEOLOGIES COLLAPSE IN ON THEMSELVES.
AND IT'S BEAUTIFUL BECAUSE IT'S A FAILURE.
HAVE YOU EVER SEEN THE RUINS OF THE PAST AND MARVELED AT THE BEAUTY AND SUFFERED THE VOID THAT OPENED UP IN YOUR HEART AS YOU GAZED ON A FUTURE THAT NEVER WAS?
IT'S BEAUTIFUL.
AND DEEPLY DEPRESSING.
IT'S BEAUTIFUL.
AND DEEPLY DEPRESSING.
I NEVER WENT TO COLLEGE.
TOO EXPENSIVE.
I BECAME A COP INSTEAD.
NOT AS EXPENSIVE.
TOO EXPENSIVE.
I BECAME A COP INSTEAD.
NOT AS EXPENSIVE.
I WAS TOLD THAT JUST ABOUT ANYONE CAN BECOME A POLICE OFFICER.
AND THAT INCLUDED ME!
OF COURSE I WAS ALSO TOLD THIS BY A CRIMINAL WHO LIKED LYING TO ME SO WHO KNOWS?
IT'S A MYSTERY FRIEND.
AND THAT INCLUDED ME!
OF COURSE I WAS ALSO TOLD THIS BY A CRIMINAL WHO LIKED LYING TO ME SO WHO KNOWS?
IT'S A MYSTERY FRIEND.
NO ONE IS MORE SPECIAL THAN THE NEXT PERSON.
ANYWAY I AM A COP.
BUT I ALSO QUESTION THE VERY NATURE OF MY EXISTENCE AS ONE.
I CAN ONLY HOPE THAT MAKES ME A BETTER ONE.
BUT ENOUGH ABOUT ME-
WHAT DO YOU DO?
ANYWAY I AM A COP.
BUT I ALSO QUESTION THE VERY NATURE OF MY EXISTENCE AS ONE.
I CAN ONLY HOPE THAT MAKES ME A BETTER ONE.
BUT ENOUGH ABOUT ME-
WHAT DO YOU DO?
USED TO BE?
SO WHAT, DO YOU NOT STEAL ANYMORE?
SO WHAT, DO YOU NOT STEAL ANYMORE?
Neal is not investigating lights. He's not testing them. He hasn't even heard about anything being wrong with the lights. He's kept to himself as much as possible, doing odd jobs for Bonnie and small assignments for ADI and talking to few people outside of his general acquaintances. Even those exchanges have been politely meaningless, but as charming and cheerful as he can possibly be.
He's getting used to being lonely again, which is good. He should have been working on that from the start.
Today he's out doing an odd job he kind of regrets offering to help with--a cranky old woman who frequents Bonnie's wants to put up Christmas lights outside her house. Neal, idiot that he is, volunteered to help when he overheard.
So here he is, weaving a strand of lights around the banister of her stairway, silently grumbling to himself about the cold and how his boots weren't made for this kind of snow.
He's getting used to being lonely again, which is good. He should have been working on that from the start.
Today he's out doing an odd job he kind of regrets offering to help with--a cranky old woman who frequents Bonnie's wants to put up Christmas lights outside her house. Neal, idiot that he is, volunteered to help when he overheard.
So here he is, weaving a strand of lights around the banister of her stairway, silently grumbling to himself about the cold and how his boots weren't made for this kind of snow.
Malcolm, still feeling raw after the whole mold and de-molding situation, hasn't been out much himself. Still, he can't stay in his room all the time. His claustrophobia starts to claw at his mind like a deep-seated itch.
He hasn't seen Neal since he gave him the friendship bracelet. He hasn't seen a lot of people since he was handing those out.
But that's... Neal up ahead. At some random house. He frowns. Is he hallucinating Neals because he misses him? Stop it, Bright. He squeezes his eyes closed, then opens them again, but Neal is still there. And now he's looking in this direction.
Malcolm raises his hand in an awkward wave. Neal could pretend he doesn't see it. It is, Malcolm supposes, an out for him.
He hasn't seen Neal since he gave him the friendship bracelet. He hasn't seen a lot of people since he was handing those out.
But that's... Neal up ahead. At some random house. He frowns. Is he hallucinating Neals because he misses him? Stop it, Bright. He squeezes his eyes closed, then opens them again, but Neal is still there. And now he's looking in this direction.
Malcolm raises his hand in an awkward wave. Neal could pretend he doesn't see it. It is, Malcolm supposes, an out for him.
Neal blinks in surprise, starts to raise his free hand, realizes that if he does the friendship bracelet he definitely hasn't worn on and off since he received it would show, and lets go of the lights to raise his other instead.
"Hey," Neal says, taking a few steps toward him, immediately concerned. "How are you feeling? Are you doing okay?"
"Hey," Neal says, taking a few steps toward him, immediately concerned. "How are you feeling? Are you doing okay?"
Oh god he knows Malcolm was sick when he gave him the bracelet. Because you were acting like a weirdo lunatic, Bright. Even more than usual, he reminds himself.
"Oh. Um. Yeah. They barely had to cut me. Right as rain now." He kind of wraps his arms around himself. "Much better. Thanks. How are you?" he asks with such an earnest attempt at being casual that it comes off as not casual at all.
"Oh. Um. Yeah. They barely had to cut me. Right as rain now." He kind of wraps his arms around himself. "Much better. Thanks. How are you?" he asks with such an earnest attempt at being casual that it comes off as not casual at all.
"Good," he says, genuinely relieved. "I know a few people lost digits. At least one person lost an arm."
He manages not to openly shudder at the thought, but the bleakness that flickers across his face is clear evidence of how he would feel himself in that situation.
Neal wants to say something to help Malcolm feel better, but he isn't sure what he can say. He wouldn't want anyone alive and vaguely familiar to see him right now if he'd been in Malcolm's position. He wants to reach out and brush a hand against Malcolm's arm, reassure him in some little way, but Neal keeps his hands firmly tucked into his pockets. The better way to do this might be to keep talking. Not bring attention to the self-consciousness. Let Malcolm see that it hasn't influence Neal's opinion of him.
Even if he doesn't think Malcolm needs his good opinion.
"I'm all right." His smile manages to look genuine, and the wistfulness in it he doesn't have to fake. "Wishing I could see Paris. Wishing even more I could make a weekend trip to New York, but I don't know if the ADI would be exactly pleased with the idea."
He manages not to openly shudder at the thought, but the bleakness that flickers across his face is clear evidence of how he would feel himself in that situation.
Neal wants to say something to help Malcolm feel better, but he isn't sure what he can say. He wouldn't want anyone alive and vaguely familiar to see him right now if he'd been in Malcolm's position. He wants to reach out and brush a hand against Malcolm's arm, reassure him in some little way, but Neal keeps his hands firmly tucked into his pockets. The better way to do this might be to keep talking. Not bring attention to the self-consciousness. Let Malcolm see that it hasn't influence Neal's opinion of him.
Even if he doesn't think Malcolm needs his good opinion.
"I'm all right." His smile manages to look genuine, and the wistfulness in it he doesn't have to fake. "Wishing I could see Paris. Wishing even more I could make a weekend trip to New York, but I don't know if the ADI would be exactly pleased with the idea."
New York. That gets Malcolm's attention.
"New York? You want to go to New York?" He pauses awkwardly, then powers through. "I could go with you. Like. Make the trip with you not... go with you with you." He winces. "I mean. I'd like to go to New York, too, if they're okay with it. We could travel together." Unless Neal would prefer to just run far and fast right now.
"New York? You want to go to New York?" He pauses awkwardly, then powers through. "I could go with you. Like. Make the trip with you not... go with you with you." He winces. "I mean. I'd like to go to New York, too, if they're okay with it. We could travel together." Unless Neal would prefer to just run far and fast right now.
Neal smiles at that, keeping his expression calm and even and not at all reactive to Malcolm's verbal stumbles. "That would be great. I haven't seen Rockefeller Center done up for Christmas in way too long."
He's about to say something else when the old woman from Bonnie's plugs the lights in. They're painfully bright, and Neal holds up an arm to try and shield his eyes, glad to see Malcolm is out of the immediate blast radius.
"Oh, sorry dear, I think maybe these aren't the kind I wanted."
A little chill walks its way down Neal's spine, goosebumps pebbling the back of his neck and his arms. It's like knowing you've been made during a high-stakes con. It's the only feeling he can think of that compares.
She unplugs the lights, muttering to herself as she goes back inside, but the feeling doesn't go away.
He's about to say something else when the old woman from Bonnie's plugs the lights in. They're painfully bright, and Neal holds up an arm to try and shield his eyes, glad to see Malcolm is out of the immediate blast radius.
"Oh, sorry dear, I think maybe these aren't the kind I wanted."
A little chill walks its way down Neal's spine, goosebumps pebbling the back of his neck and his arms. It's like knowing you've been made during a high-stakes con. It's the only feeling he can think of that compares.
She unplugs the lights, muttering to herself as she goes back inside, but the feeling doesn't go away.
"Are you okay?" Malcolm asks, gesturing to the house. "Did it blind you? Those things were crazy bright."
“Yeah,” Neal says quietly, tone unsettled. “Yeah they were.”
He shakes his head, flashing Malcolm a smile with its own wattage a little bit dimmed. “I’m fine. Just going to be seeing spots for a week.”
God, does Malcolm not feel that? Neal closes his eyes—or rather they flicker closed for an abnormal half-second—-as he gathers himself and tries to refit his comfortably friendly mask.
He can’t keep himself from glancing over his shoulder to make sure nothing is there, though. He laughs faintly, trying to make it a joke. “I swear, an automatic door could open around me lately and I’d get tense.”
He shakes his head, flashing Malcolm a smile with its own wattage a little bit dimmed. “I’m fine. Just going to be seeing spots for a week.”
God, does Malcolm not feel that? Neal closes his eyes—or rather they flicker closed for an abnormal half-second—-as he gathers himself and tries to refit his comfortably friendly mask.
He can’t keep himself from glancing over his shoulder to make sure nothing is there, though. He laughs faintly, trying to make it a joke. “I swear, an automatic door could open around me lately and I’d get tense.”
Edited 2022-01-05 02:57 (UTC)
"Trauma," Malcolm assures him. He gestures around. "Do... do you want to get a cup of coffee? I mean. If you're free now."
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