[He doesn't look good--several days abusing yourself chemically and physically will do that to a person--but he does at least seem... calmer, maybe is the best word. Neal blinks.]
You don't need to--I'm okay. I'll be...
[What is he saying. This is Shaw on a mission.]
...Where are we going?
You don't need to--I'm okay. I'll be...
[What is he saying. This is Shaw on a mission.]
...Where are we going?
Neal, I should like a moment of your time when you have it. I realize you're in the midst of some difficulties but... when you can.
[text, a few days after Eiffel's return and associated events]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
reformedsinner
2024-01-07 03:31 am (UTC)(link)
I'd like to speak with you.
Please let me know when you're available.
Please let me know when you're available.
It's one of those nights where Raylan has gotten Willa's permission to sleep somewhere else and he was almost starting to not feel guilty for it. Almost being the key word. He still hadn't heard more from her on how she might feel about Neal coming home with him, and he was torn about the choices that laid in front of him. Sprawled on the couch with Neal's head in his lap, Raylan considers his newest glass of whiskey with a pensive face, off hand brushing back and forth on Neal's chest, before looking down at the New Yorker.
"I was thinkin'. 'Bout you leavin'.. I think its time for me to go too. To go back to the real world... That wouldn't.. take the shine off anythin', would it?"
"I was thinkin'. 'Bout you leavin'.. I think its time for me to go too. To go back to the real world... That wouldn't.. take the shine off anythin', would it?"
Edited 2024-02-04 03:25 (UTC)
Neal raises his eyebrows, surprised but also not. Roman is graduated. Willa is... well, from what Neal can tell, she's settling into her own, and she doesn't seem ready to leave even though he's pretty sure she came here to start because of Raylan. Raylan doesn't do well with idleness.
He shifts one hand from where it rests on his stomach to take Raylan's free hand. "Why would it ever do that?"
He smiles, a little nervously. "It might actually answer a question I've been having trouble with myself."
He shifts one hand from where it rests on his stomach to take Raylan's free hand. "Why would it ever do that?"
He smiles, a little nervously. "It might actually answer a question I've been having trouble with myself."
[He doesn’t put on too much fake happy for Neal. He won’t buy it anyway. But he does contact him by video instead of in person. Just in case he can’t keep it together.]
Hey. I talked to Raylan yesterday. He’s going with you, huh? Well, I guess technically you’re going with him.
Hey. I talked to Raylan yesterday. He’s going with you, huh? Well, I guess technically you’re going with him.
[He was wondering when Malcolm would call. He didn't want to do it first, wanted to give Malcolm a chance to figure out what he wants to say, but much longer and he was going to break and call Malcolm anyway.]
Hey. Are you in your cabin? Can you come to mine?
Hey. Are you in your cabin? Can you come to mine?
[Shaw told Eiffel the news. And the only thing keeping him from pissbolting to Neal's room is that - he's not sure where his might be now.
But he has a walkie talkie.]
Neal oh my god where are you RIGHT NOW
But he has a walkie talkie.]
Neal oh my god where are you RIGHT NOW
[After this.]
Um. Hey. Since you're in charge of Counselling now, I think I have to tell you that I messed up.
Um. Hey. Since you're in charge of Counselling now, I think I have to tell you that I messed up.
His own birthday passed unremarked during the Breach and in the shadow of Will’s coma. He hadn’t even had time to tell Neal about the coma, as a matter of fact, before they were swept into the Breach.
But Saturday morning, Malcolm shows up with a cake he requested from John Doe, rich chocolate and blueberry, like the one John asked to sample so many months ago, and a french press full of coffee and knocks on Neal’s door with a game attempt at a smile on his face.
“Happy Birthday!” he gushes when the door opens, and the sincere enthusiasm of that requires no mustering on his part. “Cake for breakfast is a valid birthday choice, right?” He pauses. “Oh. Wait. Do you have company? Am I interrupting?” It hadn’t occurred to him until just now.
But Saturday morning, Malcolm shows up with a cake he requested from John Doe, rich chocolate and blueberry, like the one John asked to sample so many months ago, and a french press full of coffee and knocks on Neal’s door with a game attempt at a smile on his face.
“Happy Birthday!” he gushes when the door opens, and the sincere enthusiasm of that requires no mustering on his part. “Cake for breakfast is a valid birthday choice, right?” He pauses. “Oh. Wait. Do you have company? Am I interrupting?” It hadn’t occurred to him until just now.
[From his office, after this.]
Hey. Um. I messed things up with Eiffel. He was trying to tell me I don't have feelings again and that is... not my problem. And I pushed back. And I hung up. So I probably broke everything that you fixed.
Hey. Um. I messed things up with Eiffel. He was trying to tell me I don't have feelings again and that is... not my problem. And I pushed back. And I hung up. So I probably broke everything that you fixed.
[Neal is on his patio with a sketchbook, which he sets aside after he turns on his communicator.] ...Malcolm, you get to push back on something like that, first of all, and secondly--you don't have to report every fight you have to me. If Eiffel wants to tell me about it, he's welcome to, and you can tell me whatever you want, but I'm not going to judge either one of you for having a rough conversation. I might have advice on how to make it go in a better direction, next time, but I'm not going to judge you.
You know the first ever documented midflight sex act was in 1785? Two lords wagered the modern equivalent of
[a pause for calculation of guineas to pounds, adjustment for inflation, and translation to USD.]
between 90k and 100k dollars today depending on variables in inflation. One of them had to have sex in a hot air balloon 'one thousand yards from the Earth' to win. Don't actually know how that turned out for the one that was supposed to do it.
[a pause for calculation of guineas to pounds, adjustment for inflation, and translation to USD.]
between 90k and 100k dollars today depending on variables in inflation. One of them had to have sex in a hot air balloon 'one thousand yards from the Earth' to win. Don't actually know how that turned out for the one that was supposed to do it.
Well, Mr Caffrey. Perhaps we can talk about the negotiation of my magic back after all~
[Shaw lets herself into Neal's cabin wearing the tank top and sweatpants that she'd slept in, hair still damp from the shower, and drops herself right down onto the couch with a heavy, tired sigh. Her eyes fall closed for a few long minutes, but then she cracks one... and then cracks the other, squinting hard at the ceiling. Were they always so high in here? They weren't, right?]
[No, indeed they were not.
A freshly-showered Neal wanders into the room with Dog Eiffel at his heels, wearing pajama pants and no shirt as yet, which lets Shaw get a glimpse for the first time of the scars he's acquired since his last time on board. Not a lot, just a few, but they're noticeable.
He grins when he sees her.]
Hey stranger. I didn't even have a chance to tell anyone I'm awake.
A freshly-showered Neal wanders into the room with Dog Eiffel at his heels, wearing pajama pants and no shirt as yet, which lets Shaw get a glimpse for the first time of the scars he's acquired since his last time on board. Not a lot, just a few, but they're noticeable.
He grins when he sees her.]
Hey stranger. I didn't even have a chance to tell anyone I'm awake.
The Thursday after the crunchwrap debacle and his conversation with Walter at the chapel
abrightboy
2024-08-01 09:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Will had succeeded in making him feel still… valuable, however hard Walter battered that so soon after the whole crunchwrap disaster. Cherished, even. But Will has graduated now. Today. Or… maybe last night? Hard to be sure. The point is, he wants to do something special. He wants to make him dinner. A nice dinner. A dinner Malcolm needs to take one of his Special Dinner pills for. But he doesn’t know how. He’s dying to tell Neal the news, though, and he knows he won’t lose patience with Malcolm’s inexperience if he asks for help cooking something. He’ll actually tell him what to do.
So he knocks on Neal’s door, hoping he’s not busy.
So he knocks on Neal’s door, hoping he’s not busy.
Edited 2024-08-08 22:34 (UTC)
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