empathicfault | IC Inbox

[Shaw only hears Will's end of his conversation with Sweeney, but all the same, she can read between the lines. An hour or so later, she pops up as he's walking the halls, sliding out of a stairwell to walk side by side. In a low, relatively light voice, she says:]

Entertaining the idea of revenge, are we?

[ The slide up to him gets more of a reaction than the question, as he double-takes at her appearance. ]

I'm not planning anything. Just glad that something might actually happen in response to this one. Wish it had been handled when it was my friends getting hurt, not me, but- [ He shrugs, performative. ]

Oh, I don't think you're planning something, but tacit approval to someone who respects you and would do anything for you--

[She clicks her tongue.]

That still drives me nuts, you know. The fact that all anyone talks about is the response; the reaction.

Oh, the fact that half the people here know who Peter is and that he's here as an inmate and still treated him like an angelic little boy? Yeah, what a surprise.

[ He lets out a small sigh. ]

You know this one hits close to me, Shaw. You know why, right?

Yeah, I remember. And I'm not saying it shouldn't. But play this out. Sweeney's an inmate, which I guess is "convenient" when we're talking about revenge. But it harms his progress. It sets him back, and he's already been stuck here for, what, years?

[ Will waves off the concern. ]

...yeah. Three years. And I doubt it'll get that far. People are motivated. Something will be done this time. People decry Malcolm's methods, but you can bet he'll get something in there that'll make Peter regret his actions. Or at least regret the consequences and maybe make him think about his actions. No direct revenge necessary then.

Besides- [ He looks directly at Shaw now, eyes discerning. ] How do you know that'll set Harkin back? That it'll harm his progress? He's had people telling him to 'suck it up' and 'turn the other cheek' for over a couple of years now, through all sorts of inmates beating the crap out of him. He's one of the least instigative inmates on the Barge. How much has that done for him?

Edited 2024-03-23 02:03 (UTC)

[She slows her pace, enough that she can turn to face him fully without having to worry about watching where she's going.]

Okay, first - do you think I'm saying "suck it up and turn the other cheek"?

Edited 2024-03-23 02:04 (UTC)

[ Will stops walking altogether and runs his tongue over his lips. ]

No. You're not saying anything at all to him. You're just spying on my conversations with him and trying to use that to get to me. What he hears from the warden silence and the lack of action is confirmation that the system is broken. He can't rely on it, but he's expected to. He's told he has to, if he's ever going to leave here.

..."Get over it." [ Said like he's just now remembering. ] That's another one he's heard a lot. Anyway, I don't want to reinforce that, so I won't.

How about inviting him to come on patrol? How about recruiting him for a protective rotation on James, or the people James is worried about, or a guard detail on Peter? How about keeping in contact with Peter's temps, making sure they're all up to speed, and making damn sure Peter doesn't get his hands on a knife again?

Choosing not to take violent revenge clearly isn't all Sweeney needs to do to graduate, yeah; if it were, he'd've done it by now. But it's just as clear that the Admiral doesn't approve of violent revenge, which means it would harm his progress. I don't want that. I know you don't, either. So don't tell him to get over it, but don't make coy little hints encouraging him to go on the attack, either.

The patrol that gave him the worst possible first impression of you? The protective rotation James wouldn't accept? Pretty damn sure he's already keeping in contact with Peter's temps. He's proactive about that sort of thing, not that it does any fucking good half the time.

[ He's quiet for a long moment, almost seeming like he's not going to answer the rest of it. But Shaw's used to his long pauses by now, and he takes this one to close his eyes and heave a sigh. ]

Do you know what the percentage is of graduates who happen to graduate shortly after committing some horrible act of violence? I'm sure we could figure it out if we just looked at the numbers. Hilbert and Henry hop to mind. Kiryu was so sure Nie Huaisang was close to graduation that he left, and his sword recently cursed the whole damn ship.

So no, I don't think we do know what the Warden cares for or doesn't care for, as far as redeeming inmates. Just what gets wardens demoted. Even that is a little blurry. I'm tired of my brother thinking he has to bear the burden of every misbehaving miscreant here, just...take his hits without complaint. He's a fucking god, he shouldn't be treated like a punching bag.

What about telling him about what you did, then?

[Shaw leans against the wall behind her, folding her hands over her chest as she looks at him steadily.]

Defending yourself, trying to keep Peter from fleeing, using B's alarm, getting us to you fast and getting Peter caught fast. Was that system broken?

No. [ He takes a breath in and lets it out in a sigh. Some of the tension drains out of his shoulders. ] That part worked just fine.

It was the part where I didn't let him know what had happened and he had to find out from Gaius' public post. He'd been sticking around me more to try and help with this, and I'm sure he blamed himself for not being there when the attack happened. I'm trying to- to give him some agency in this.

[Shaw is quiet as she thinks this over, flicking her eyes up to the ceiling before dropping them back down to him.]

Okay.

[She gives him a small nod.]

I get that.

[ Will freezes for a moment, raises an eyebrow at Shaw. He's not disbelieving, but he is a little surprised. ]

...you do?

You're right that Sweeney's not the type to instigate fights, so we're mostly talking about the principle of the thing, right? Whether it's good for you or for him to encourage retribution even in the abstract.

[She lifts a shoulder.]

So, yeah. I do. Your argument makes sense.

[ Will had gotten himself rather puffed up in his anger, ready to rail and rant for a long time- even if it was only in his own head. Shaw had effectively punctured that and he takes a moment to rub his eye and recollect himself. ]

Okay, then. Thanks.

It's not something I'd be looking for, generally. Peter hurt the people who care about me a lot more than he hurt me. But...I also know how tough that can be to endure, sometimes.

Since the coma, Malcolm has been, perhaps, a bit more of a barnacle in regards to Will. Just at night. And in the morning. And on any occasion he gets to see him in between.

This particular evening, Malcolm is curled up against Will’s side on the couch, a little distracted considering his earlier conversation with Shaw when he finally has to just ask out of nowhere: “Social groups have rules and rituals, right? That’s not a weird thing to suggest.”

Will might not have been aware of the lost time before, but he certainly is now. They've been somehow even more physically close and affectionate than they had been before. Will think it feels like a second-wave crush, all over again. He's happy to let it carry him along.

And their form of courting tends to be a lot of discussion, so he's not too confused when Malcolm brings up social dynamics out of the blue. He tilts his head a little as he thinks about it and then responds, "They do, but I always got the feeling that one of the rules is that you're...not supposed to talk about the rules. You're just supposed to know them somehow."

Considering Will's condition, most people would think he'd have an advantage there, but- emotions don't come with logical explanations for what preceded them. He was usually doomed before he even got started.

"...Maybe that's how I got into trouble. But... there wasn't a way to discuss it without bringing them up," Malcolm says. He pauses thoughtfully, then says "You know how Shaw and Neal and Eiffel hang out all the time since they became Breach siblings in the zombie thing? With the walkie talkies and the code names and the movie nights and all that?"

"Oh. Yeah." So that's why Malcolm brought it up. "I didn't know that started with a breach. Too new, too...busy feeling feral after that one, I guess."

He knows where this is going now, but he'll let Malcolm decide how to approach it.

Malcolm pulls his knees up a little more, so he's more fully curled against Will.

"So... I called Shaw to ask if she'd scheduled the mediation with Jedao and she brought up the Breach and I told her not to worry; that I wouldn't try, like, muscling in on their time or anything. Annnd she said I was self-sabotaging by being all defeatist and I told her it was deduction, not defeatism, because... basically, when you're the only one that doesn't get a bowling shirt, nobody has to tell you that you're not on the bowling team." He tilts his head up to look at Will. "She basically said that they're not even a group, but... they clearly really, really are. So. I don't know what to do with that because it wasn't like she said 'we'd like you to hang out with us' or 'you can't hang out with us', she just said... I shouldn't assume I'm not in the group that isn't a group."

Will listens and hugs Malcolm a little tighter as he explains. It sounds rough.

"You were trying to head it off at the pass, so to speak," he paraphrases, then licks his lips. "And Shaw- she doesn't read those things well, either. She probably doesn't even know...that they're absolutely a group."

He looks down at Malcolm with a faint, commiserating smile. "She might've had a point about it being a little defeatist. Maybe she wanted to spend time with you like...you had in the Breach? Navigating around 'don't worry, I'll leave you alone' can be challenging. What was she like in the Breach?"

"Most people don't need to navigate around it. They want the out." He considers the question. "The same but patient. Not so high strung. And I wasn't suggesting... I'm fine to spend time with her, but the group is their thing and I didn't want her to think that I thought I got some sort of free pass to it because the Breach put me in it." He pauses. "I wasn't even all the way in it there."

Will hums thoughtfully, even as his hand brushes up and down over Malcolm's shoulder and upper arm. "What makes you say that? Did they have meet-ups that didn't include you?"

“Yeah. I actually skipped out of an activity I did regularly to attend… their movie night.”

That’s a little on the nose when he thinks about it.

“And I think they were involved in plotting to overthrow the company we worked for.” A beat. “Without me.” If that needed clarification. “I liked it there.”

Will lets out a little snort of disbelief. "What was this place, anyway? Was it evil? You said it was some sort of research facility...what did it research?"

He'll address the rest later, but that second part seemed slightly more contextually important.

“Lots of stuff, I guess. I was working on some sort of time-space portal thingies,” Malcolm tells him. “Shaw said there were human experiments going on. I guess I looked into it and didn’t find anything compelling? It’s already getting fuzzy.” And he’d had more pressing issues than Breach stuff when he got back.

Will makes a face at the phrase 'human experiments' and rubs at his eyes. "Yeah, I've heard how that goes. That...there might've been something to that. I've never seen us have a breach where nothing suspicious is going on." Although maybe he'd just gotten 'lucky'.

"Time-space portals do sound fun," he admits, with a small smile. "And you had another activity during their movie nights? What was it?"

"...I played a strategy card game with some friends from work. It was called Wizard Council," he admits. Then there's a hesitation before he adds "And I... flirted with the girl that worked at the bar really badly and awkwardly but somehow she still wanted to talk to me." He pauses. "Shaw was going to try to help me with that... situation."

"Okay, so- you sound like you were pretty 'in' to me. Shaw was helping you out. It sounds like you could've gone to movie nights sometimes if you wanted. And there was a group of people you played card games with. That's...a lot, actually." At least it is as far as Will's concerned.

He smiles then, slightly mischievously. "What was the girl like? I don't know, I think you undersell how cute you are when you're awkward. She might've appreciated it."

“Shaw was helping me. But they had movie night the only day I always had other plans. And she trusted Neal.”

He pauses at the question, though Will telling him he’s cute when he’s awkward pleases him as much as any compliment from Will. A lot.

“…It was Laura Moon. She owned the bar.” He looks at Will uncertainly. “She seemed… actually interested when I talked to her.”

Will grins and nods. "She might've been. Hard to say with these different worlds." Especially with how they fade for most people.

He shifts a little, more to get Malcolm more comfortable than anything else. "I think..." he starts, reaching up to run his fingers through Malcolm's hair. "You had more connections there than you realize. And you might have more here too, it's just- filtering through your real-life memories. But if I say any more, I'm going to risk sounding hypocritical."

He plays with Malcolm's hair a little more, thoughtful, then adds, "You know you have me here, right? It's always nice to feel included, but- we're our own group. Always."

Malcolm nods thoughtfully at the first part, soothed by Will's fingers in his hair. The calm it brings helps him see things more clearly. He suspects Will knows that.

At the second part, he smiles softly. Warmly.

"I do know that. And if I had a thousand friends, I'd still come back to just you and me at the end of the day." He pauses, glancing down for a moment, drawing a pattern on Will's knee with his fingertip while he gathers his thoughts, then looks up. "I think... everyone that was... relatively easy for me to get on with leaving so close together is... still making everything hard. Even breaches when I'm not even me. Or... at least, coming back from them."

You're the guy with all the dogs, aren't you? Got a question for you.

I am, in fact, the guy with the dogs. What can I help you with?

Got a pup the other day and she's too small for the collars I have. She keeps slipping the lead.

You got anything small or at least adjustable?

Did you? Congrats.

How small are we talking? Is she a puppy? We should be able to find something that'll work as long as she's not a small-breed dog.

And...uh, you don't strike me as the type to go out of your way to get a Chihuahua.

Hardly. Malinois, but the equipment I have is for wolves. She's only about twenty pounds right now.

Malinois. [ Will says it with a smile. ] There's a few of those on board now.

And sure, I think the kennel has an adjustable collar that should fit her. Could do a harness too, if she's particularly good at pulling out of it.

Good working dog. Not as neurotic as shepherds.

Harness will work, too.

Meet you up top?

Meet you there.

[ He clicks off the feed and stops by the kennels on the way to the main deck. They've had a lot more animals lately, but thankfully for this situation only a few of them have been dogs. So he doesn't have to dip into his own resources to find a good collar. He brings two sizes of harnesses, because those are less adjustable.

It takes him maybe ten minutes tops before he's up on the deck. He didn't bring his own dogs (this time), but he's hoping to see Jacob's puppy. ]

[Of course he brings Mae. He's on deck with her, working on her attention with a pocket of treats and an actual clicker. She's doing well, but smher attention changes to Will as he approaches.

She's a little thing, black points and mask atop mahogany fur, but focuses quickly back on Jacob when he stands up.]

Thanks for this.

Graham.

[Her voice is hoarse; tired.]

How are you holding up?

[She thinks she's sending this outside of a dream. But she can't be positive.]

I'm all right. Nothing I haven't dealt with before, even if this version's a bit extreme.

You? I know you've never had...positive experience with anything like this, yourself. Are you able to hole up in your cabin?

I'd rather work.

[With a tinge of bitterness, she adds:]

They can get to me in the cabin, anyway.

...ah. Yeah, Malcolm's isn't great for that either. Mine might be safe? You can spend your time in there if you'd like.

I'd spend more time with you, but Hannibal's almost certain to show up. Makes me feel like even I don't want to hang out with me.

You mean you don't want me to punch him in the face...?

[Shame.]

I tried to kill Malcolm's dad in a dream. I think.

[ Will laughs bitterly. ]

Good. I swear, when I graduate, the hardest thing I'll ever do is not putting a bullet in that smug bastard's face.

[ He pauses, lets out a huff of a sigh. ]

I've seen him, too. And- for the record, I certainly wouldn't mind you punching Hannibal. I just don't want him suddenly gaining the upper hand, like I so often remember him doing.

[She scoffs, quietly.]

I'm not scared of him.

[ Will lets out a surprised chuckle. ]

Yeah, don't imagine you would be. Glad to hear it.

You really are a ten. Am I condescending? Like. Naturally?

[ He holds off on his usual "who said that to you?" because he imagines it's on Johann's post somewhere. And he thinks about it. ]

You're also a ten. I was just trying to give Johann some leeway with the 'objectivity'.

And you can be condescending. I'm not sure if it's natural- in fact, I don't know if it's possible for it to be natural, because the act generally requires intent. I'm guessing that when people might notice such a thing coming from you, it's when you're trying to be helpful and someone's being oversensitive about it.

And if that's the case, I have a few people from 'home' I could introduce them to.

Fitz’ math was wrong.

Oh, okay. Sounds like I've got it right, then.

[ A bit of a pause. ]

Do you care about Fitz?

I don’t know him. This is, like, the second time I’ve talked to him and the other time was maybe my second day.

Does that mean that you don't care about him? Are you worried about what he thinks?

Oh. …I don’t know. I guess on some level, I worry what everybody thinks.

Mmmm.

[ It's a thoughtful hum. ]

My shift's over soon. Do you think you could wait a half hour for me to collect some more of my things to bring over to your place? I thought I might move my paints over, if you wouldn't mind it.

And then I could show you what I think of you, and make the argument that my positive opinion matters a great deal more than one sensitive stranger's negative one.

You’re going to bring your painting stuff? …I can move the credenza with the terrarium so you can set everything up by the window. It’s better to have natural light, right? Or. What passes for natural light?

[Will always knows the best distractions.]

[ Bingo. Will smiles, quietly pleased with himself. ]

I- I mean, you've seen my cabin, right? I can paint anywhere, I just need the space for it. So I can just put it where it best fits and...where you don't mind if I set a dropcloth. And possibly disturbing pictures. I'd been thinking the extra room, but...

[ If Malcolm wants him downstairs, he'll hardly say no to that. ]

Have you seen the art on my walls? Anyway, just because you did paint in the dark doesn't mean you have to. I'm going to move the terrarium so the space is ready when you get here.

[He wants to be able to watch Will paint. He wants Will painting to be part of their living space; a thing that happens in their living space.]

Edited 2024-04-27 17:11 (UTC)

[ Will's voice is warm. ]

Okay. That does sound nice.

If it looks like you're going to disturb Sin and Star too much, though, wait for me. I know you can move the terrarium on your own, but it doesn't mean you have to.

If I wait, you'll still set up here?

[He doesn't have to make it easier and more tempting?]

[ Will's chuckle is somewhat surprised out of him. ]

Of course. I'd like to be down there, you know. But I didn't want to take over all your space. I'm not really used to...bringing much with me, I guess.

I want you to be everywhere in this cabin. I want to see you everywhere here, even when you're not here.

[ Will hums with contentment. ]

Well...I think the dogs have shed enough that they've seen to that. But I'll stop worrying about it.

See you in a half hour with way too many paint supplies, then?

Edited 2024-04-28 03:30 (UTC)

Yes, please. I can't wait. I thought of a good place to move the snakes.

See you soon, then.

[ It's honestly a little difficult for him to wait, as Malcolm seemed so happy with the prospect. There's also the possibility that more social things will fall apart, but they've dealt with plenty of those and they will continue to. All it is will be more stepping stones on Malcolm's path to his Becoming.

So it's only twenty minutes when Will practically kicks the door in. The dogs bounce in happily, unleashed today. Will had thought his enhanced strength would help with this, but canvases and easels are still unwieldly- and he grabbed more items than he should've.

So he bursts in, with an energy he rarely has after shifts. He immediately sets things down as Winston and Buster run off to find Malcolm and lick him in greeting. ]

Hey. I'm home.

[ He says it quietly, but Malcolm will surely hear (regardless of doggie distractions). ]

[The dogs bound in and Malcolm knows what that means. He greets them each with a distracted ruffle of their fur, then homes in on the warmth of Will’s arms like a heat seeking missile, smiling at the words as he finds him and wraps him up tight in turn.]

I missed you.

I was gone a few hours!

[ But he says so with a quiet and pleased chuckle. And he leans into those arms. This is not the small happiness he found after bringing Wally home, or the heavy intensity of seeing Hannibal in the BSHCI. This is being so full of Happy that he doesn't know what to do with himself, feeling like he's going to burst with unburdened delight. ]

....I missed you, too. You said you found a good spot for the snakes?

[ Mentioned before he distracts the both of them from their intended activity. ]

[Malcolm pulls back just enough to grin at him, then takes his hand to bring him over to the end of the kitchen island facing the living room.]

What if we put it along here. [He gestures along the space with his free hand.] They’ll still be out of the way and we’ll still be able to see them all the time, but then you can have the entire space in front of that window for your stuff.

And they'll be able to see us, too. That's perfect. Okay, let's move 'em over and then I'll get my painting supplies all organized.

[ Neither should be too difficult between them, considering their combined strength. As they work on it, Will notes that they're in sync again (often a pleasant realization on his end).

Once the terrarium is properly in place and the snakes are resettling, Will stops to stare at it, stepping as far back as the couch in the living room. ]

It really looks like it belongs there, huh?

It's like a slithery room divider or a living art exhibit. [Enthused with a big grin on his face. And the thought continues as he bounds over to where Will dropped the art stuff.] Speaking of which... what are you working on? Have you started the self portrait that got wrecked again yet?

[ Will looks down at his canvases and smiles somewhat shyly. ]

Nah. It didn't feel right when I tried it again. I'll remake it eventually. At the moment, it's...I'm not sure what it'll be, other than a landscape.

[ One that Malcolm can get a peek of, if he looks. It's still in its early stages. Will, regardless, starts setting up the easel and then backs up and takes another look. His eyes slide towards Malcolm. ]

Would you want to try it with me sometimes? There's plenty of space to paint side-by-side.

[Malcolm admires the canvas, only tearing his eyes from it at Will’s invitation, turning his head to look at Will’s face.]

I’d love that. It wouldn’t disturb you?

[ Will scrunches his nose up and shakes his head. ]

Hardly. I tend to be less disturbed the closer you are, rather than more. I mostly do this to relax now, anyway.

[ He scoots his easel to the left, leaving space. His smile is evident as he winks at Malcolm. ]

Let's steal another easel from the art gazebo. I'm pretty sure they won't mind.

[Every time he tells himself to stop being weird and needy and imposing himself into all of Will’s space, Will tells him to get in the space already. And yet, it still hits him with that flood of surprised intense warmth, this notion that he can’t impose here, in their home, because Will wants him to fill all its corners the same way he wants Will to fill all its corners. He sees you, Johann had said. He doesn’t entirely trust his voice at first, nodding eagerly, then giving in and throwing his arms around Will and holding on tight.]

[ Will hugs him back just as tightly. He does have a tendency to catch onto Malcolm's feelings and just sit with them sometimes, but in this case he thinks the happy overwhelm is coming from both of them. Will spent such a large portion of his life like a ghost, haunting other people's presences with no impact of his own. Even his farmhouse was full of decisions and items of other people.

He felt like he existed when he was around Hannibal. An entity with its own thoughts and desires, despite Hannibal's overpowering personality. Now? Here? He feels like a person. Like he can grasp what he wants with his own hands. Like this place is his now, too.

Maybe it's a strange time to be this emotional- it's not one of the alloted 'best moments in someone's life' that most people go through. But fuck it, that's how they are. It isn't until he sniffles that he realizes he's crying, and that makes him laugh. He knew people sometimes cried when they were happy, he just never figured he'd be privy to the sensation. ]

Hah. I don't know...don't know how to thank you for everything you've done for me. Looking forward to finding out, though.

What I’ve done for you…? [Spoken with his own laugh, but that’s kneejerk, that reaction to the suggestion that he has things to offer in this setting. That what he’s done for Will could possibly compare to what Will has done for him, just because what Will has done for him has changed not just his life but his entire concept of life and self and what to live for. But he remembers his presence in Will’s mind palace. The place that shone. The place that was always bathed in brilliant light. To me you’re radiant. He smiles against Will’s shoulder, calmer now. Still feeling intensely warmed inside but also contented.] Maybe… we’ll just keep doing those things.

[ Will knows the disbelief, because he feels the same every day. Just unending delightful surprise after surprise. He's sure it'll eventually settle, but even then?
The contentment he expects they'll find with each other will be new. It's the reason they work, and the reason they'll be good together. ]

Yes, let's.

Malcolm waits for Will to get back from the kennels... restlessly. He's scared now. Specifically, he's scared for Will in a way he hasn't been since they connected. There's an aborted attempt to work on his mess of a painting that he started while painting with Will. There's an aborted attempt to read, the book left face down on the couch. He's managed to make tea. His cup is full of cold tea by the time Will arrives. He's sitting on a stool at the kitchen island, facing the door, trying not to look like He's vibrating out of his skin.

Will comes back from his shift a little early. He felt a headache coming on and knew it was time to pack it in. He'd like to get back to his- Malcolm's- their cabin before it fully settles in.

When he opens the door, Buster zooms inside to say hi to Malcolm, but Winston sticks within petting distance of Will. He sees Malcolm immediately (obviously) and gives him a lopsided smile. "Worried about me, huh?" He opens his arms wide. They could both use a hug right now. "I'm right here. I'm all right."

Of course Will understands without even having to ask. Malcolm slides off his stool, spares Buster a couple scritches, and shuffles over to Will to drop himself into his arms.

“Collins is still here. That demon… kid… thing is still here,” he points out, muffled, into the collar of Will’s shirt.

"I know," Will says, quietly. "And if it's not them, it'll be someone else. Even if we're not here, we stick our noses into trouble too much to not have someone who wants to shut us up."

He pulls back far enough to rest his forehead against Malcolm's and look into his eyes. "But we are survivors. We both are. We made it all the way to the Barge and we'll make it off the Barge, too. And if I can do my best to make sure you don't get hurt, you can do the same for me."

There's something else, too. But it would be absolutely unfair and manipulative to bring it up now. He's just glad he can recognize that. It'll just have to sit at the back of his mind until the panic and anxiety are gone, on both their ends. It does happen occasionally.

“I will do that,” Malcolm whispers with fierce desperation, his fingers fidgeting at Will’s shoulders, his right hand shaking noticeably.

Will reaches up to rub circles in Malcolm's shoulders, and he leans down to kiss him. Gentle. Quiet. Somehow still intense. "Come on. Let's sit."

It gives him the excuse to reach for Malcolm's right hand with both of his own, and guide them both to the couch in the living room. No tea, no snacks- hell, Will hasn't taken his shoes off yet. But sometimes things are more important in the moment. Winston settles his head on Malcolm's lap the moment they sit, recognizing the distress.

"If... something happens," he finally says, after being easily and silently led to what feels like one of their safest places, one of the places they always go to connect and to just be with each other. "If something happens, I know Lark will turn you again. He invited you to the pack himself." He feels like that's of particular importance to Will, that he wouldn't lose that.

Will's smile comes easily in response to that, because it really was one of the first thoughts he had on hearing the news that John Gaius was moving on. Malcolm knows him so well.
"If he'll turn Maggie, he'd turn me. You're right, there."

Will looks up, taking in a big breath and letting it out in a long exhale. "I knew he wouldn't be here forever. Just like anyone else, I guess. So I'd been emotionally prepared for the healing to go at any time." He looks to Malcolm. "Did it blindside you?"

Malcolm swallows heavily and squeezes his eyes shut for a second and nods, then opens them. He's a little disappointed and a little embarrassed, honestly.

"People call him a god. I just... thought he could do it from anywhere. I knew he'd leave; I just thought it would carry on when he did."

"Ah...I'm sorry, Malcolm," Will replies. He puts an arm around Malcolm's shoulders. "I didn't think...our different backgrounds probably caused some different expectations. But you know... we're safer here than anywhere else we'd want to go, right? We die, we come back."

"I know that," Malcolm concedes, leaning into him, resting his chin on Will's shoulder so he can nuzzle Will's jaw with his nose. "But I don't want you to suffer that, either. You've suffered enough," he murmurs.

"Thank you," Will says quietly, shifting to accept the nuzzling happily. They've gotten used to this, moving with each other and finding comfort as they can. "Do you realize that I very rarely suffer here, though? Things can be physically painful, but it's not...when you're all right, it doesn't matter."

He rests his cheek against Malcolm's head as he thinks it over. "Remember when I told you I didn't get scared anymore? I've realized I do. It's just...not for myself. I do for you, occasionally. Worried that we'll be pulled apart somehow. But I'm not worried for myself anymore."

Malcolm smiles, almost despite himself, but also in genuine happiness. His one hand’s fingers find the fabric of Will’s shirt at his chest and shoulder to fidget lightly at, where a saw blade recently tore apart the flesh beneath.

“I… told Collins that his consequences were my idea. I might be in trouble if he gets his ability to kill back any time soon.”

Will takes a deep breath in and out, but that's the only sign he heard Malcolm for a moment. He smiles slightly.

"You know, I bet that stung him more than any death threats or attacks he got. And I doubt he's getting his restrictions lifted anytime soon. Still...maybe we should be careful when the temp wardens change over," he adds, thoughtfully. "I don't think he would enjoy finding out what happens if he does significant damage to you."

Malcolm turns more towards Will, which puts him half in his lap and lets him slide his arms around Will’s neck.

“You know, sometimes people try to rile me up by suggesting… doing something to you or… coming on to you. And they always seem kind of surprised when I’m like …try it and sorry not sorry about any missing body parts you escape without,” he says with a shrug. “Reasonably… objectively, I know you can handle yourself. It’s just… I can’t…” he trails off, his brow creasing faintly. But Will knows what he can’t. “I just can’t,” he whispers.

Will easily loops his arms around Malcolm more as they shift. He smiles at first- it's true- but it's hard to hear Malcolm continue, saying what he can't do, emotionally.

"I know," Will responds quietly. "And I can't say I'll never get hurt. But...I will do everything I can to keep it from happening. I'll be careful. And-"

He'd been heading straight for it, but he falters now. Hesitates. "I don't know why I'm taking so kind to graduate, but I'll figure it out. I'm trying. I'm...sorry, I can't even give you that guarantee."

As soon as Will starts apologizing, Malcolm shakes his head firmly.

“No. What are you talking about? You’re doing fine. It’s fine. We’re fine here.” He kisses him gently. “You’re doing really well. Gaius was here for ages, you know. It takes as long as it takes.”

"It's-" He stops the sentence in its tracks, biting his lip. "There's been a lot of them lately," he eventually says, quietly. "And I understand why, everyone gets so closely connected here. Even I've found a few people. Some graduations tip others over the edge, tug on those entangled strings of fate to pull others onto the opposite side."

But he'd essentially cut ties with several of the people he'd been talking to, and he's too damn stubborn to get dragged. He has to find his own way. "The longer I'm here without managing it, the higher chance the Admiral loses me," he mutters. "And I'll be dead again. There's no afterlife in my world- if there was, it surely would've come for Hannibal Lecter already. I can't come back and find you if I'm...non-existent." Anything else- anything- he is confident he can handle. But he hasn't been able to plan around that.

Malcolm fiddles with Will's collar for a second, mulling that over, then looks up, meeting his eyes.

"You know... I don't trust a lot of things. Systems. Most people's intentions. ...Myself. But I've never doubted for one single second that you'll graduate. Never once. And I still don't." He shrugs, casting around for a way to deal with it. The Thing they can identify to put paid to the irrational fear and mark it irrational. "Do you feel like... there's something you're doing or not doing that's......."

His voice trails off as something occurs to him and he looks a little sick. He remembers Kiryu's warning. He was just talking to Lark about it. About how what Kiryu advised about Will helping him wasn't right for their situation. He frowns faintly and swallow thickly, his gaze dropping back down to Will's shoulder. "Was Kiryu right? Am I holding you back?" he asks in all seriousness.

Will's gaze had gone distant as he thought through the possible things he's missing- and wondering if it's the obvious. He can't renounce his connection to Hannibal and mean it. He still can't even say he wouldn't protect the man if he arrived- Will's done it before, after all, and in situations where he was actively planning his murder. If he can't even say that much--

Malcolm's questions finally pierce his consciousness. His eyes focus back on Malcolm's in confusion. "What? No, no. You're the reason I have faith I can do this at all. I don't even know if I'd actually want to, without you here. If wanting to help Shaw was the only thing pulling me forward..." He drifts momentarily, then shakes his head and squeezes Malcolm closer to further anchor himself. "How would you possibly hold me back?" Wait a moment. "Kiryu said that?"

When Will pulls him closer, Malcolm rests his head on Will's shoulder. It's calming him, Will's embrace, his words. It's stopping the sudden fraught realization from turning into a spiral.

He takes a breath.

"When everything blew up with Shaw after Avalon, everyone who came by to see me told me that it was selfish, to be upset about how she handled it, because you're dead and she's the one that can get your life back and I should just... remember that and stop... making a fuss and let her work or I could impede your graduation." Even though he still adamantly denies fussing or stopping her. "And then when we were starting mediation, I guess.... I told Kiryu that you help me with.... some of the interpersonal issues I have with people and.... some of my emotional issues and... the arrested development. And stuff. And he said if I talk to you for help or... whatever when I'm upset about something, and ask you to work on my problems instead of your problems, then I could impede your graduation. By using you. Selfishly." Will probably remembers the conversation where Malcolm asked him if he was using him. Now he knows where it came from. "And I tried for a little bit..." Will probably remembers that, too, the very brief period he had to draw Malcolm into talking about what was bothering him. "But then I talked to you about it and you said they didn't get us, how we work together. How we help each other. And I don't think you're.... behind but if you feel like you're behind and don't know why... I had to check. People said it could be me before." He lifts his head to look at Will. "You really think it's not me?"

Will listens, his gaze falling on the weapons displays as he does so. He remembers talking about this, but not as a recurring issue. At the question, Will kisses the top of Malcolm's head.

"It's really not you." He says it quietly, but his voice is certain. "In fact, I don't even think I'm behind, necessarily. It's just...I'm always difficult, apparently, even when I don't want to be. And when self-proclaimed monsters and murderers with an exponentially higher kill count than I have get their lives back in a matter of months, I start feeling...jealous. And petty. And like I'm not working hard enough. I start thinking I'm not sacrificing enough for this, and then I throw the whole line of thinking out." But it always does come back, eventually.

Malcolm shifts over a bit more, to properly straddle his lap and look him directly in the face. Down into his face, as a matter of fact; the only time he gets to view that angle.

"I don't find you difficult," he says with a smile. He gives him a tender kiss. "I think it'd be weird if you didn't harbour the slightest resentment towards a process where people who refer to themselves as literal monsters and have conducted murder sprees - like, multiple each - here on the Barge suddenly graduate just like that. I mean, I think Johann has made a lot of progress since I met him. A lot. But... more than you? I wouldn't think so. But it's hard to say how far along the yardstick anyone is when it's invisible." He tilts his head slightly, considering it. "Do you have suspicions about what you're supposed to do or learn?"

This? This is nice. If they're going to be broaching a heavy topic like his own personal graduation, he wants it to be like this every time. With a smile and a kiss and thoughtful questions. It does a lot for his own mood, as he looks up into Malcolm's eyes.

"I'm sure Johann and Edwin had farther to go than I have. But sometimes the big steps are easier. If what I needed to know was something like...learning that I was a person, deserving of grace, then hell- Hannibal could've graduated me," he posits, rolling his eyes.

Serious guessing does dim his smile, somewhat. "...I'm worried it's going to be something I can't give up. What if the yardstick thinks that I need to be a total pacifist? Or that I need to forget about Hannibal entirely?" He breaks eye contact and looks at Malcolm's shoulder. He doesn't like having to bring up Hannibal in this context, but of course he's there. "I don't think I'm actually capable of that."

“It can’t be something that’s not possible,” Malcolm tells him. “Your abuser can’t just be… cut out of you like he’s a tumour. He’ll always be part of you. And I think you’re even aware of where he is in you and… what he gave you that wasn’t… horrific. And what was. And I think that’s the most anyone can do with that. I… have a hard time accepting that my father gave me things that weren’t awful. I… remember when I thought he wasn’t awful, but… it feels like it was… fake. And that makes everything that I got from that time feel cheap. I think you have a healthier relationship with that part of your life and that part of you than I do. I don’t think Hannibal is the stumbling block,” he muses. “And total pacifism hasn’t been required of any graduating inmate that I know of, so I don’t think he’d just pick on you.”

Malcolm gives him another kiss because his mouth is right there and he can while he thinks.

“It’s about deserving a second chance, right? Living a better, richer, happier life than the first time. You sacrificed yourself to protect people from him. Maybe it’s about protecting people while also protecting yourself.”

Malcolm's reasoning hits home about Will's self-awareness. He knows the places Hannibal has grown into and wrapped around, the good and the bad. He had to, in order to know himself as more than just a product of Hannibal's whims.

He's quiet for a few long seconds, eyes unfocusing as he thinks over Malcolm's second observation. "Yes," he murmurs, then looks up to Malcolm. "No more sacrificing. Not from me. But I do like helping people. The ones that get overlooked, the lost, the...strays. Like me." He smiles, amused, because it's very damn obvious where that comes from. "And I also like making sure whoever willfully hurts them...that they see justice." Bloody justice. Maybe that's the problem? But would trying to stop himself there constitute a sacrifice? He'll have to think that over.

“That’s part of protecting them,” Malcolm says. “And that’s what we’re going to do. But. …Without getting ourselves killed.” He runs his fingers through Will’s hair, from his temple to the nape of his neck, then his fingers fidget there, with the curls that rest against his skin. “We have something else besides the mission to live for.”

Will shifts very slightly to stretch his neck out a bit and give Malcolm more space to play with his hair. The look on his face says that it feels blissful. Of course, that could be what he's hearing from Malcolm, too.

"We do," he says, voice deep and warm. "Isn't that amazing? It feels like a miracle." Will supposes he did die to get here, so maybe it is.

Malcolm grins at him and gives him another gentle kiss... and then another.

"It's the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me," he says earnestly.

Will leans up for yet another kiss, smiling all the while. "You do make me feel like I'm close to graduating. Just a couple more jigsaw pieces to slot into place...and then we can start putting our plans into action."

He feels considerably better, having more avenues to pursue and also some reasonable arguments against the things he was loathe to try. Maybe they really can both have this. Maybe they both really deserve it.

Fidgeting with a curl behind Will’s ear, Malcolm shifts his weight slightly, more a nervous gesture than anything, though he also still looks content, a smile lingering on his face.

“Will… I’ve been thinking. If I get another inmate after Kikimora? …I’m going to keep my deal and use it for something for us. For our future. When I promised my first two deals to my inmates… I couldn’t think of anything I would want them for anyway. I didn’t come here to get paid. But… this? Our plans? Our life together? When the time comes, I want to leave here with you and with everything we need to live exactly the life we want to have. I want that. So, I just… want you to know that I concretely am already working on giving up sacrificing myself to help people. I still want to help them, but… I want something for me too.” A beat. “That’s okay, right?” If you’re not an inmate, is it just selfish? After all the times he’s been told he may be acting selfishly in regards to Will, he retains some concerns about that. He hopes that’s overthinking it, though, because this decision feels… right.

It's difficult for Will not to interrupt this, because it's just so exciting and touching and- well, it's obvious on his face that he appreciates the idea. His own fingers squeeze loosely into Malcolm's back and by the time Malcolm finishes? Will is grinning.

"It's okay. It's more than okay, it's...good, for you to be compensated for your efforts. For you to be appreciated, by being given something you want. For you to know just how much you deserve to be happy. You- I feel that's a big step, for you." He leans up and places a few soft kisses on Malcolm's jawline and speaks quietly into his ear. "How does it feel, to talk about this out loud?"

Malcolm’s smile at Will’s endorsement gets even wider at the question.

“It feels like speaking the future into existence,” Malcolm tells him, turning his head just enough to nuzzle his cheek. “And… liberating. Like I can take your hand and go anywhere.”

"We're about one Deal away from that literally being true," he murmurs, happily. "And just my graduation away from asking Iris for a trip together. It'll be glorious."

He reaches up to touch Malcolm's face, running his fingers over the other man's temple. He moves slowly, softly- almost with worship. He can't imagine a better fate than intertwining his with Malcolm's, twisting them together to form a single golden thread.

Before he gets too distracted with his adoration, he realizes he should bring up one small word of caution. "Whoever you get for your next inmate'll be lucky. But if they hear that you gave your Deal to the past couple, they might want an explanation. Why they're different. What will you tell them?" His expression is encouraging. He's just trying to watch out for Malcolm's occasional blind spots. And he doesn't want Malcolm to feel discouraged for this decision- ever, if he can help it.

He lifts his head enough to look at Will's face, but not enough to dislodge his touch.

"I'll tell them that I'm different. That I'll put as much of myself into ensuring they graduate and that I won't abandon them, but that I... need to look after myself, too. I need to secure my future and theirs. ...Do you think I should preempt the question? Bring it up upfront?" he asks.

Will's smile turns almost playful at hearing that. It didn't seem to catch Malcolm off-guard, so that's encouraging. He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, at Malcolm's question. "It might depend on who you end up with, but I don't think so. Let them ask, if they really want to know. And if so, maybe it'll eventually help, to know that you're practicing what you're preaching, eh?"

Will's fingers trail up to comb through Malcolm's hair. "We're going to have to start planning more concretely," he says, sounding delighted. "Like, what's the first Deal? The interdimensional houseboat, right?"

Malcolm nods seriously in agreement, turning his head to give Will’s wrist a stealth kiss as it moves alongside his face before looking at him again.

“If we end up with nothing else, deal-wise, we need that. That’s everything. So I guess we should get working more diligently on the design, so we’re ready for that,” he says, excitement ramping up in his voice as he talks. “I know you have what we already talked about stored up here,” he adds with a smile, touching Will’s temple gently. He saw it there.

After talking to Maggie, Malcolm knows he has some apologies to make, but he doesn’t go home to make them. He goes to the kennels, to Will’s work area, and finds Winston lying off to the side. He sits quietly next to him, crosslegged on the floor, absently scratching behind Winston’s ears as he watches Will work.

Will's a little busy cleaning a couple of snake enclosures, but he finishes quickly once he notices Malcolm in the area. It looks like Winston's taking care of Malcolm, leaning up against him and thumping his tail rhythmically, so Will doesn't disturb them until he's scrubbed up and ready to join them.

"Hey. Rough day?" he asks, sitting down next to him.

Malcolm nods and, leaving one hand absently on Winston, he leans against Will.

"I messed up at the turning."

Will's brow knots as he tries to think back to Maggie's recent turning. Or maybe it was another one?

He puts an arm around Malcolm's shoulders. Comfort first. "You did? What happened?"

“Maggie called me to come have tea. So. I already had an idea that it probably wasn’t… wolf bonding time. She said that Sweeney and Iris aren’t back in the pack and she was letting me know because telling them I was glad they were back was rubbing their faces in it and made it worse for them because they had to correct me about it,” Malcolm tells him. “I thought Lark had come around. …I was sure he’d come around and it would be okay and then they were there… “ He trails off. “Sweeney did tell me that he wasn’t, but… he always said that and if they come to all the stuff we do… what’s the difference anyway? A lot, apparently,” he answers himself. “And I wrecked the ceremony for them by bringing it up.”

Will listens, but his look of confusion and concern doesn't really settle at all. Will hadn't been sure what Iris and Harkin's status ended on but he'd been trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth during the Turning.

But...yeah, that this was a special circumstance made sense. He lets out a sigh. "Did she say it like that?" He doubts it, but he'd like more details. "How did she put it?"

He closes his eyes for a second, and thinks. Thinks. He opens his eyes and looks up at Will.

"She definitely said it was rubbing their faces in it, talking about them being back. And all that. She said she had to stop herself from interrupting everything to stop me."

Will looks distant, briefly, and hums thoughtfully. "She didn't interrupt things, though. I caught a little tension, but nothing unusual to our group. If anything, the ire was towards Lark." And not unreasonably so, in Will's opinion. "I don't think you ruined anything."

He rubs at his face, eventually brushing back his hair with his fingers. "And if anything was off, it's because no one came back to us with the results of the whole...mess with Iris and Harkin. And I get that, but it's not our fault if that means it gets awkward."

"...She did say that someone should have told us," Malcolm recalls. "She said she should have, actually."

He pauses.

"I still hurt their feelings, though. I still owe them an apology."

Will nods at hearing that Maggie thought so, too. The rest? It has Will half-smiling. He leans over and gives a kiss to Malcolm's temple.

"You are," he says definitively. "A very good person. I don't know if you owe them an apology. But if you want to ease any possible hurt caused, then that's a good thought."

Will kisses him - at work! - and calls him a good person and he can't help a dreamy, almost dopey, smile.

"You don't think Sweeney is mad at me?"

"I don't think so. He does shove things down..." Will chews on his lower lip, thinking that over.

He looks up to Malcolm again, smiling. Realizing what he's about to say, and how much he means it. "Still, he's family, right? I don't know how you're both handling that, but it's...closer than Pack, to me."

Malcolm smiles softly.

"You know... I thought they were the same thing. But. Maybe they're not?"

Will shakes his head. "They might be closer to each other than most things, but...no. If they were the same thing, I think I would've been a lot more comfortable with the concept of family."

“You weren’t comfortable with that?” Malcolm hadn’t noticed. The evolution of their little family has seemed very natural to him. Right. “…Did… people who didn’t really value you try to call you that?” he asks.

"It's more that I didn't really have one. Just my dad, and he didn't have any idea what to do with me. There was a couple of times, when he was fixing up a boat and let me help, that I thought I might've...felt it. That's it."

He draws his knees up and leans slightly more fully against Malcolm. "Hannibal did call me family, though, yes. And it was manipulative. But it was also true." He takes a deep breath in and lets it out in a sigh. "I think family are the people you are connected deeply to, through fate or circumstance. You don't choose your family. You do choose to be Pack. And you are both, to me."

When Will leans closer, Malcolm nuzzles against Will’s jaw, a gesture of comfort that he doesn’t notice has come naturally to him with Will. His finger fidget absently at one of his buttons. He smiles at Will’s conclusion, though.

“You chose me for both,” Malcolm says and his tone makes it clear how stupidly happy that makes him. Maybe he thought Will was interesting and attractive, but he wouldn’t have considered he had a chance there if Will hadn’t initiated the idea. And maybe he was a wolf first, but it was Will who suggested he could be one too and they could have another connection that way. Will offered him what felt like impossible dreams until they became real and Will understands the significance, for Malcolm, of someone choosing him. Choosing him and not changing his mind. Choosing him when there were plenty of other options. “And I choose you.”

Will accepts all the attention readily, something he never thought would come naturally to him. He looks pleased as he leans farther into the nuzzling, making it easier for Malcolm.

As for what Malcolm says, it's true- Will could've let the moment pass, could've pressed down his jealousy over Malcolm's awkward non-flirting with Shaw, ignored the unseen attention Malcolm was getting from Norton and Neal. He could've let it all go and worked on his own mess of a relationship history by himself.

...but it's not in his nature to deny himself, anymore. So where does choice fit in, there? Perhaps it's all merely semantics. Besides, hearing Malcolm choosing him back has him grinning like a kid with a school crush.

"Mmmhmmm," is his very eloquent response. And then, "I love that I make you smile like that."

Malcolm grins down at his knee. “It’s starting to feel more natural. Smiling.” He looks up with a grin that says he’s teasing when he adds “It doesn’t even make my face hurt anymore.”

That makes Will laugh a bit. "Same here, if I'm honest. Still hurts my face, though." His eyes are twinkling. He lets out a happy sigh that coincidentally lets him breathe more of Malcolm in.

"Hey," he says, after a moment. "I'd like to...talk to you. Just- more about future plans," he adds, before Malcolm gets worried. "I know we're getting deals after I graduate, but...I wanted to make sure. I want to stay on until Harkin graduates. It might be a while. Are you okay with that?" He realizes it could be misinterpreted and adds, "I'm sure we'll go visit people, get off the boat sometimes, but as far as where we're living...I want it to be here."

“I’m okay with that,” Malcolm says. “We have to take care of our family, right?” he confirms. “…I never told you,” he suddenly realizes. “When you were in the… coma. One day, when he came to get the dogs for their exercise, he asked me when I was going to ask you to marry me. So I… told him that we’ve already talked about it. I hope that’s okay.”

Will chuckles a bit. "It is, it's very okay. Damn, I probably should've talked to him about it myself, but I'm not all that great at...being a good sibling. I'm glad he's got a couple of others that are better about it."

He's not, really. He's a jealous and possessive creature and he would rather have his brother all to himself. But that- and his feeling like he doesn't have a good handle on actually taking care- has him giving space to Red's other Breach family. It's fine, as long as he doesn't think about it too hard.

"Anyway- I'm glad he knows. I'll tell him about our plans, too. I just don't want him to think...I'm another person promising to be there for him. Especially if we get dragged out sometime." He licks his lips. "First day after I graduate, let's head to Lark's world, yeah? Just in case that matters for...where we go back to, if we get lost." He doesn't want to risk them going to separate worlds, especially if they don't have their transportation yet.

Malcolm had talked in vague terms about the ring Will had given him after the space station when people saw him wearing it and asked, but he hadn't spoken, specifically, about marriage. That felt... more private. But he hadn't thought Will would mind Sweeney knowing and he's glad he was right.

The suggestion lights up another smile. "I'd like that. And you can see our house for real. We can set it up and stuff. So it's ready any time we want to stay."

It is a little more private, but- well. Harkin's family. Malcolm was right on the money.

At Malcolm's confirmation, Will lets out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. It was just a stray thought that had them both pulled back 'home' and with no way to return, he just- he couldn't stand that. But they'll set it right as soon as they can. Make Lark's place 'home'. "That sounds great," he replies. "I'm still not sure how much we're going to take to Los Angeles, but I suppose we'll see. I'm used to colder weather."

But thinking about it is honestly relaxing. He's never been so full of plans before- well, maybe when he was working with Jack on catching Lecter. "Lark said I'd probably like most of the Pack there. I might even be looking forward to meeting them. A little."

"We'll be right by the water! Maybe we can have a boat!" He's been keeping the secret of the fully stocked fishing room, complete with a fly-tying station, that he had Lark install for Will and he will giddily do so right up until Will walks into it. He pauses. "...Do you know how to drive a real boat? You must do, right?" He grew up on one. He knows how to fix them. It would seem to follow.

Will has to grin now. Of course they'll have a boat. If they're lucky, it'll even be close to their house- it's supposed to be beachfront property, right? "Well, it's more piloting, unless you're talking a motorboat. But yes, I do. I'm used to sailboats and- as you might guess- the big clunky setups that are the houseboats. I imagine I can figure out just about anything else pretty quickly, too."

He shifts in position slightly, looking up at the ceiling as he casts himself into this possible future scenario. "I could teach you anything you want to know. We could even get a bunch of parts and a decent hull for cheap and fix one up ourselves. By the time you get done with that sort of project, you know it better than your own body."

Malcolm's eyes widen. "We can build a boat engine?" he exclaims. "Ourselves? A working boat engine?"

Will is delighted by this reaction- Malcolm can probably see that, even if it doesn't actually show up on his face. "We sure can. Just have to take it slow and careful and...honestly, a little lazy. That gives it time for problems to pop up. I, uh...I actually fixed up a boat and sailed it across the Atlantic, once. To Europe. Had a couple of minor issues, but nothing too big."

“We could park our timeship for a bit and just…… sail around the world? On a boat we made?” Malcolm clarifies, even more awestruck and excited.

"It'll take a while to make it, but- yes," Will says, punctuating it with a grin. "Why not? We'll be able to do anything we want. We can even get really clever with it and keep the timeship on the boat...just in case we need a miraculous getaway. For some reason."

Will appreciates that this became the topic of conversation. Sometimes Malcolm just needs reminding that he has a lot to look forward to. Even perceived harms are not that big in the grand scheme of things, here.

In his excitement, Malcolm shifts to face Will more, going from crosslegged to his knees, staying close enough not to dislodge the arm around him. "Maybe we can make it easy to slot in somehow so it's like.... the bedroom and then if there's a problem it'll be like a panic room and an escape pod all in one!"

"Yes, exactly," Will replies, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Although it's telling that's the first thought both of us had. Think we're planning on getting into trouble a lot?" He bets they will. Maybe not on Lark's world, but...probably there, too.

“Unless trouble knows what’s good for it and stays away,” Malcolm says with a grin. He leans in to give Will a kiss, then stops and glances around. “…Am I allowed to do that at your work?” he asks, suddenly concerned.

Will chuckles, and it comes out as a low, pleased rumble. "I don't think the snakes and the dogs are going to care too much, honestly. Maybe the rats, if they're paying attention," he says, cheekily.

With a lazy smile, he adds, "I really don't think it's a problem unless it interferes with my work. And- forgive me for saying so, but even you can't keep me from making sure animals are well-cared-for."

"Thank God," Malcolm tells him, then leans over to claim that kiss. "I'm so glad you exist."

Will takes that kiss happily, smile still playing on his lips. "I still find it...miraculous, that you exist," he replies smoothly. "Looks like we're both lucky."

“And for pretty much the first time ever,” Malcolm teases back. He steals one more kiss, then glances around. “I’ll talk to Sweeney maybe after the port,” he decides. He looks at Will again. “When is your shift done?”

You wanna get off and go take on this city?

I'd love to. Should I assume you're going to stay in the city until we leave? It looks about the size you're comfortable in.

There are parts of this mile-high hotel that allow dogs.

[That would be a yes.]

Edited 2024-05-15 17:34 (UTC)

There had better be, for a structure so huge. You better show me, if you find it first.

Do you have a list from the Admiral already? I bet that's a good way to get to know the space.

Mostly cloth - for making clothes, I guess - and a whole lotta African spices. Some electrical stuff, too; I guess that's for the engine room.

Shouldn't be too hard to find. I'll want to check with Harkin about his inventory list, too. But for once I don't think we're going to have to scrounge.

...maybe we should stock up on modern gadgets.

Anything specific you're thinking about?

Uhhh. I actually don't know. Laptops? Smart phones? Or the parts for either. I haven't heard of anyone ruining their communicator, but I'm sure it's happened before, right?

Your wife might be a better person to ask about that.

Yeah. But there's no real internet on the Barge; our stuff from home doesn't pick up crap.

Well, yeah...there's no network. Someone smarter than me might be able to build one, but- you don't need internet for a laptop to be useful.

I'm just saying, we've seen a lot of magic lately, maybe we should refocus from spell components to technology while we've got the chance. I know I'm more comfortable with it.

[ Will, you're literally a supernatural creature. ]

I never really thought about it, but-- yeah. Not a bad plan.

I also had another idea, if you're interested. You wanna try some crime-solving, Shaw-style?

Oh, yeah? I'd love to.

I mean, there's a lot of people down there, there's got to be some crime to solve. What's Shaw-style like?

Hard and fast, but with more thinking than it used to have, and no collateral damage.

We've test-driven disaster response plenty, but we haven't gotten to do any prevention beyond patrolling. Sounds like a good opportunity to work on Graham-style too, yeah?

That's...yeah. That's exactly what I was thinking. I'd like to test some of this out in a real world, even if it's not the one we're used to.

...I'm starting to think that no world is really like the one I'm used to, actually. It'll be interesting to see how this one operates.

From what I can tell, people are people no matter where they are.

You don't have the same up-close vantage point that I do, however.

Okay, I can buy the people here being pretty different because the Admiral seems to exclusively shop around for weirdos, but this is Earth. A hundred years into the future, but still Earth with humans.

A messy display of brilliant colors and ideas, from what I see. But different places seem to produce different themes. The Barge is, obviously, a mess. The last port we were in had everyone practicing memento mori. You and Root are more focused.

And my world? Everyone was too self-centered to notice anyone else's discomfort, much less pain. Here? I don't know yet, but I'm sure to have an idea after I've been down there a few hours.

Huh.

You'll tell me if it sucks too much, yeah? I wanna do this with you, but not if it ends up being a particularly crappy place.

I'll let you know if I need a break. Thanks.

[ He realizes he's actually starting to get used to Shaw's concern. And even if it's because that's part of the job, it is still nice, to expect it. ]

I might be all right, though. I actually have ways to deal with it now. I'm not constantly at the edge of my...capacity.

Meet you on deck?

I'll be waiting for you.

[And trying her best not to be too impatient about it. She wants off this hellboat.]

[ Will knows Shaw's itching to leave, so he doesn't take long. He just puts a couple of coins in his pocket- to fidget with, they won't be usable as currency- grabs a bottle of water and is half-done with it by the time he reaches the Deck.

He's not sure if Shaw's going to be bringing her dogs, but Will's leaving his until he has a good idea of the people in this new space. So he is unusually unburdened as he puts up his hand in a lazy wave at her. ]

Hey. Let's see what they've got, eh?

[Shaw, too, is dogless, though that's only because she'd briefly gone on ahead to secure a hotel room for the week. This will be her first proper exploration of the city, though, and itching to leave is an understatement. She'll give him a nod in greeting, but won't waste time chatting on deck; she'll wait until they've gotten off the ship and out of the airport before she asks:]

So what do you think? You wanna jump right into the thick of things, or do some shopping first?

You never know how long crime-solving is going to take.

[ He mentions this with a small smile. He's clearly glad for this field trip. ]

So let's get the shopping over with. Shouldn't take long, and I'm sure we'll find out what the 'bad part of town' is in the meantime.

A city this big? I bet it has more than one.

[And off they go: off the ship, out of the airport, and towards the city, empty shopping bag and full shopping list in tow. Once their feet hit proper city pavement, Shaw takes a moment to tilt her head back and exhale, looking up at the skyscrapers.]

It's good to breathe real air again.

[Possibly real. Probably real.]

[ Will's sigh is less one of relief. He settles into the feeling of a city -thousands and thousands of people zipping by, everyone within eyesight possibly adding a little bit more weight to him- and breathes the air deep. ]

Yeah. Set foot on the ground, look up at a sky...not that the one we have on the Barge isn't pretty, but. I do miss being on a planet sometimes.

[ And he knows why she likes it. This feels real and right to her. He wants Shaw to soak this up as much as possible- she's had to deal with far too much reality-bending lately. ]

So...I saw a sign for a market on the way out. Looks like it's to our right? Or we can try the tower, but I'm guessing you'd rather stay out here.

Mm, indoors is still on a planet. It's not any worse than being outside, and definitely nothing like a spaceship or space station.

[And a massive mile-high hotel does sound cool.]

So what do you think? You afraid of heights?

Haven't seen a cliff I wouldn't jump off of yet.

[ Har har. He smirks at Shaw, then adds slightly more seriously: ] No, no problem with heights. Let's head in, then.

[ The walk is longer than it looks, but the entrance they step into is full of elevators and shopping signs and (thankfully) air conditioning. There's also a directory front and center as well, although it's less like a map and more like a station for holographics. Some people stand at it, tilting and zooming their own unique maps with a few hand gestures.

Will walks towards it, but a woman passing by presses a hand to his shoulder and says the words, "Flat. 2439." It's clear and has no emotion attached to it, and the woman immediately continues her way out of the tower. Will just watches her leave, his brow knitted in confusion. ]

[... Huh.

Shaw doesn't even bother to ask if he knows what she's talking about: from his expression, it's clear that he hasn't got a clue, and how could he?]

I'm not sure I like her tone.

[Shaw deadpans, but then adds:]

So what do you say? Should we take her up on the random offer that might be a trap?

[ Will snorts in amusement when Shaw mentions her tone. And that question? It has an easy answer. ]

Well, I'm not going to be able to focus on shopping now. You think maybe that constitutes for an address in here?

Twenty-four thirty-nine-- in a building this tall, that could be a floor number.

[She turns to head towards the building map, but then stops, looking back over at Will.]

I should tell you up front - there's a chance this is Root having a little fun with us. It's her style.

Could be.

[ At the warning, he tilts his head and smirks. ]

Hey, if she wants to play host to us unraveling a mystery...who am I to stop her? Might be fun anyway.

And if that's not it...

[ She pulls out her cell phone (just because she can't connect to any sort of cellular network here or on the Barge doesn't mean it's not useful for other things) and snaps a photo of what she thinks is the most relevant part of the map, then makes for the elevator. ]

You want to take point, with me as backup?

[ Will follows, but not before snapping his own picture. ]

Sure.

[ They are, unfortunately, not alone on the elevator. These have to take nearly a city's worth of people up and down, after all. There's not a floor 2439, so after some deliberation Will presses the (digital) button for floor 24. As he pulls away to stand nearer to the window, he sees someone using a mirror to flash on the ground outside? Huh. ]

It's not a bad way to explore the place. Guess we'll see where this puts us.

Will! It’s a city! I… have some stuff to do today [Surprise stuff for Will but shh shh.] but tomorrow I want to go on a date. A real date. …With you, if I wasn’t clear. Dinner and… other date stuff… I haven’t worked out yet. But it will be romantic, I pronise!

[ Will laughs in response, because this is pretty adorable. ]

I assumed it was with me! And okay, I'm doing inventory runs today anyway. And I'll probably need a break back on the ship. But a date night sounds...nice. Anything I can bring?

Nope! Just yourself. …Are we coming back to our cabin tonight? Or do you have something else in mind? I just… don’t want to not see you until then.

No, of course not.

We should probably plan on going back to the cabin for tonight, at least. Cities and I...we don't always get along all that well. I want to be ready for whatever you've got planned tomorrow. They do have dog-friendly places, if you want to get a hotel that night, though...

In my city experience, everywhere is pet friendly if you pay them enough. [He grins and winks.] …What’s your favourite smell? [No reason.]

Well, I don't know if we're working with your usual city budget.

[ He grins, amused. The question gets him looking up towards the ceiling. ]

I don't suppose I can just say you, can I?

[He grins, delighted.]

That smell will definitely also be there.

Well, good. That's the most important one.

Hmmm...let's see. The smell of a forest after a heavy rain is coming to mind right now. Maybe because it's been a while.

Oh, I like that. Good one! [He makes a note in his phone.] Um. Do you want to maybe meet up somewhere for lunch later?

I'd love to. I'll call you if I get a good break, okay? You do the same.

Shaw's apparently going to take me out to find some crime to solve, too. So we'll see how that goes.

Crime? What sort of crime? [Magic word.]

Well, we don't know the city yet! But probably prevention, if we can manage it. I think she's trying an wardening exercise, though, or I'd already have invited you along.

[ Sorry, Malcolm. ]

She wants to see if I can figure out my own 'style' of crime-solving. I haven't really been tested in a non-Barge situation that way. Not yet, anyway.

Tell me all about it when you come home tonight? Oh! I'll bring something for dinner, okay? And you tell me all about that crime thing.

[ Will laughs. ]

Of course I will. I doubt we'd be able to keep ourselves from talking about it, even if we were trying.

And I'll still see if we can meet up for lunch.

Okay. I'd like that.

[About to sign off to bound to his self-assigned Chores For Love, he pauses suddenly.]

...Be safe, okay? If... if you need help you can call me. I'll come right away from anywhere.

Of course I'll call you. I might even call you if I'm getting overwhelmed by the environment, too. But I'll be careful.

You be safe, too.

I will. I'll see you at lunch or at least at dinner.

I love you.

I love you, too. See you soon, Malcolm.

[His heart is bursting. Bursting.]

See you soon.

[And off he goes. Lots to do.]

Hey

Saw the announcement.

You doing okay?

[ Will had not seen the announcement. There's a couple minute delay on this reply. ]

I'm okay.

But this place sure does feel like a bad joke sometimes.

It's fucking bullshit.

If you need anything, let me know.

Or if you want to let off some steam or something.

[Sweeney doesn't know what it would be, but he's here for it. He'd just started to learn to accept the graduation of cunts who piss him off, but that's way different when it's the piece of shit who gets off on killing Will.]

[ Will muses on what he needs right now. Letting off steam sounds necessary. And maybe...reminding himself that he actually likes this place, despite being trapped here. He has his brother, and he's a wolf now. ]

Would you be up for a run with me in the Enclosure? I want to go as fast and as far as my furry little legs will take me.

Sure

I ain't been on 4 legs in a while.

When you wanna go?

Then we should fix that.

Give me a half hour? Just have to wrap up some work.

I'll see you there.

----------

And dutifully prompt, Sweeney's working on a cigarette, leaned against the wall by the Enclosure door, when Will arrives.

[It was Avalon's own question about how Will is taking it that makes Malcolm look at his role in it a different way. Finally he pauses agonizing over whether he did harm to Will by having a role in it long enough to call Will and ask.]

....Is it weird that I helped them? I didn't think of it as hurting you. I kind of thought of it as protecting you because I'd have an inside track on their state of mind, but now they graduated and I think I helped.

I'm sorry.

[ Will is practically speechless for a moment before he reparses the sentences and- yes, that is what Malcolm means.

What he ends up doing instead? Is laughing. A sudden burst of it escapes before he manages to stop it in a cough. After all, neither of them react well to being laughed at, generally. ]

Malcolm, you don't- I'm sorry, but. You did protect me. Avalon's not going to attack me again. They're not going to hurt anyone, most likely. And I've been trying to help, too, I just- I couldn't walk them through it all, and...

You have nothing to be sorry for. I promise.

[He isn't sure, when Will laughs, if it's the good kind of laugh or not and that is much more benefit of the doubt than he gives anyone that's laughing at something he says when he's trying to be serious. He relaxes a little when Will clarifies.

He didn't really think Will was mocking him, but it's good to know for sure.]

Really? It's... you're okay?

[ He takes a moment to really think about it. ]

I'm...dealing with my petty jealousies, but overall? I am okay. As much as I'd like to wish we were on a schedule and beholden to some sort of karma point system, we're really not. And I'll take the wait, if it means no one else is gonna be tortured into suicide again by them.

You had the right idea, getting them there faster. I'm glad you did.

That's a relief. I'm... they asked me if you were okay and it occurred to me that I didn't really know and I was kind of mad at myself that... it didn't even occur to me. But I don't want to ever hurt you again. I hope... I wish I was getting you there faster. So you could be alive for sure.

[ He smiles shyly and looks down. ]

You are doing a lot more than you think. You make me feel safe. It lets me...work on the rest. Without looking for a trick. I don't know how much longer I'd be here without that, but I bet it'd number in the years.

You didn't hurt me. Really. I'm glad you're doing what you do. The way you help, it helps me...figure out how I want to go about things, a lot of the time.

Avalon actually asked if I was all right?

Yeah. And... they wanted you to be, when they asked. Acknowledged that it might be understandably hard.

I'm glad you find me... helpful. And... I know you know I'm always going to stick with you.

I do know that.

And...helpful is an understatement. I think of you when I feel like I'm handling a situation badly, when I feel like my instincts are starting to run away from me. You're the example I'm trying to emulate.

…I am?

[He’s not sure he can be anyone’s example. He thinks he’s barely holding it together. …He’s an example? For the best person he knows?]

Really?

You really, really are.

You care so much, so genuinely, so abundantly. Too much, sometimes- and I'm trying to help you with protecting yourself when you need to. But when I'm...not feeling like being my better self, I borrow your love and I let it guide me.

[Malcolm smiles in unfettered delight, even if he does - out of habit - direct it towards the floor.]

You’re always, always welcome to as much of my love as your heart can hold.

[Once he's regained consciousness after the Hannibal attack. He still sounds bleary and a little woozy.]

Hi Will. I don't know if you're back and I don't want you to worry. I'm in the infirmary. I'm okay. They just want someone to come get me. So. Let me know when you're back.

...Will?

Hi Will. It's me again. I'm okay. Just let me know when you can come and get me.

Hi Will. I don't want anyone to see me here and ask questions. I'm going to sneak out when nobody's around. I'll see you at home soon.

Will? Are you there?

Will? ...Will? I'm going now. Back to our room. See you there

Will had a lot to do when he came back. But all-in-all, it was a fairly quick clean-up, thanks to his brother. And finally, he checks his communicator to see just how many messages Malcolm made while stuck in the infirmary. He's expecting more than there is, and that's...well, he's not sure what it is.

Upon listening to them, he realizes the last one was a few minutes ago. With a frown, he rushes into the hallway and sees Malcolm hobbling down from the elevator.

"Malcolm, what the hell?" he says, far more worried than anything else. He rushes forward and- ignoring a couple flashes of Hannibal's attack in his mind- reaches out to support him.

Malcolm’s expression brightens when he hears his voice and he looks up from where he’s carefully putting one foot in front of the other.

“You’re back!”

He lets Will get an arm around him, looking up at him sidelong, a little uncertainly. “Are you mad at me?”

"Mad? I-" Will looks extremely confused, for a period of about three seconds. Then he laughs, even if there are tears in his eyes and he's sniffling a little bit. Emotions are a little tough right now. "No, not at all."

He leans his head on the side of Malcolm's, just feeling the warmth of Malcolm's body. "I was worried. He- he did a lot of damage. And you should have someone helping you here."

He smiles warmly at Will's feet.

"I do have someone helping me here." Now, anyway. "I didn't know how long you'd be gone, but I don't want everyone to find out I got hurt like this. I thought... I could wait for you at home. He's gone-gone now, right? You can stay overnight?"

"Yeah. Flood's over, I can stay," he says, slightly concerned about Malcolm keeping it quiet. But...well, Will would too, honestly. And he would really like Malcolm all to himself for at least a day or two. "Here, let's focus on getting you settled. Couch or bed?"

They're almost to the door. It's good to have a plan.

"Couch until bedtime?" Malcolm asks. "I want to have sort of... normal nights. I mean our normal. That's one of my favorite things. I missed it a lot when you couldn't stay. He doesn't get to take them now that he's gone."

"No. He doesn't." The way Will says it, it's very final. Not that he will find any arguments here. "Couch it is, then."

From there, he focuses on getting Malcolm the rest of the way into the apartment. It smells- even to a standard human nose- strongly like vinegar. That unfortunately can't be helped.

As they shuffle to the living room, Will can't keep it in anymore. "I'm sorry he hurt you, Malcolm. I'm- really sorry." His jaw is set and a few tears find their way silently down his cheek.

Malcolm looks up at him, gives him as much of a squeeze as he can manage.

"You're not responsible for what he did. And you warned me and I still provoked him." He grunts faintly leaning up to kiss his cheek. Worth it, though. "You're not him. And you're not responsible for him."

"Don't shift," Will scolds, although there's not much feeling to it. He presses a kiss to the side of Malcolm's head. And then he admits, "You know how...mixed up inside of me, parts of him are. And this was...personal."

They've reached the couch, so he immediately shifts into fussing. He settles Malcolm against some pillows, in a nest of blankets. He uses the one they both settle under together as an actual blanket for Malcolm. And he makes sure he leaves a spot to the side of the head of the 'bed', where he can sit. They can still be close.

"I'll get you some water. I don't suppose anything else sounds good?" Couldn't be. Will had a tough time eating for weeks into his own recovery, and he wasn't food sensitive.

"Having talked to him pretty extensively, I can say very confidently that he doesn't love how much better than him you are. But also he does. He may have welded bits of him into you forever, but they don't make you part him because the horrible things he did were choices." He glances at the kitchen at Will's question. "Do we have any ginger chamomile tea left? I think... I'd like some tea. And water. I feel like a desert."

"I'm not surprised," Will replies. "I'm pretty sure we do, unless Hannibal drank it," he adds with a rather sour tone. Because he expects to find small little pieces of Hannibal all over their place now.

He doesn't respond to the rest of Malcolm's assessment with anything other than a thoughtful look. His mouth opens as if to add something, then shuts again. And then he's focused on making sure Malcolm's comfortable. Once the blankets are perfect, he sits down and leans over, gently encircling his arms over Malcolm's shoulder and kissing his lips just as gently.

"I love you. I know I'm only going to the kitchen, but if you want me for anything, just yell for me. Okay? I'll be right here." And maybe that sounds too patronizing, but Will feels a little like he'll implode if he doesn't assure himself of this. He's here. He'll be here.

Malcolm doesn't find it patronizing. He smiles.

"Remember what I told you when you called, before you came home? He didn't change it," he says looking up at Will with a dreamy expression that is 90% smitten and only 10% bloodloss.

Edited 2024-06-24 00:00 (UTC)

Will looks into Malcolm's eyes and then smiles, closing his own. He is tired, but he is also so satisfied to both hear this and realize it's true. Maybe things have changed a little, here or there. But Malcolm still loves him just the same.

"He didn't change it," he happily concurs. "You were right."

And that's more important than the majority of the worries swirling around in his head. Anything else, they can work on later. Together.

Will reaches for and gently squeezes one of Malcolm's hands, then forces himself to stand up. "I'll be right back." He leaves to make the tea, glad for how open this layout is. He can keep Malcolm in his line of sight. "Looks like we'll have some time to catch up on our movie list, here," he says, raising his voice a bit.

Malcolm peers over the back of the couch at him as he works, just eyes and hair visible from the kitchen.

"And books!" he calls back cheerfully. "Are you going to bring the dogs back tonight or tomorrow?" he asks.

"And books," Will agrees. He gets the water, and...the tea is still here, so he sets the kettle to boil.

"As for the dogs, let's give it an hour or so and see how we feel. I don't want to leave just yet." Not when he just got here, and Malcolm just 'escaped' the infirmary. "Edwin has them now. They should be fine. They like him a lot, you know." Something occurs to him. "What would you prefer?"

"Edwin loves them, too," Malcolm muses. "I think... stay with me tonight and get them tomorrow. Or... maybe even Edwin could bring them here," he suggests.

"Let's check on it tomorrow, then," Will replies easily. "If Edwin's too busy to bring them, I'll go get them, but- time with you only does sound good, right now."

He returns with a couple of water glasses, figuring he could use the hydration himself. "I feel like I need to...re-align myself, after all that. And you need to do that too, just physically. So we'll take our time and heal." He hands one glass to Malcolm, as long as he looks like he wants it now.

Malcolm takes the glass with the hand of his good arm and clicks it gently against Will's glass.

"To healing," he says, then takes a drink. He looks at Will. "We're okay, right?"

Will's smile is a little strained, but he's still smiling. "I will be more okay when you're healed up. But yes, we're okay. As long as you think we are." He sort of adds that into the sentiment, because Malcolm needs to know it's not just a decision on Will's end.

"And if...if there's anything you want to know about him, or what he said, or- any of it...you only have to ask. I don't want you to feel like there's any place in my memory palace you're not allowed to go."

Malcolm's whole face softens and he leans over - despite the effort required - to give him a gentle, tender kiss.

"I was mostly worried about... him doing the thing my dad does. Subtle little... seeds planted to drive a wedge in." He pauses. "I want to ask you what he wrote to you, but it feels like asking to see your text messages. I trust you. I don't want to sound like I don't. I'm just curious."

Will takes the kiss happily and smiles at the ground when Malcolm notes it'd be like reading his text messages. It's more personal than that, but Will's committed to being honest with Malcolm. It's always been to Will's advantage when Malcolm does know more. They help each other figure these things out.

"You can read them. I wouldn't be surprised if he left things to find for weeks to come, at this rate." He lets out a small sigh, partially because there's a part of him that's thrilled for the easter egg hunt he's apparently been put on. "He found the sketch I had from Christmas and left a bunch of those, too. I've been...collecting it all behind the canvases near the easels." He's a little reluctant to leave the couch, but he knows how Malcolm's curiosity works. So he asks, "Want me to grab them now?"

"Would that be okay?" Malcolm asks, watching his face. He pauses. "You'll sit here again when you bring them?" he adds, out of apparently the same anxiety Will is feeling.

"I will, although I'll have to-" He hears the whistle starting up. "-get the tea, too," he finishes with a bit of a laugh. He's made his decision, he seems sanguine about it. He leans over to give Malcolm a peck of a kiss on the side of his head. "But I'll be back as soon as I can."

He gets up to get the kettle, and moves efficiently. Turning the burning off, setting the hot water to steep, and setting a timer. Within a couple minutes (probably punctuated by both of them checking in with each other), he's returning with a significant stack of papers, considering Hannibal was only here for half a week. The drawings are under the letters, which rest on Will's lap as he sits. A couple of large rocks jutting out of the sea is depicted in the top-most drawing.

"Here's everything I'd found so far," Will says. He licks his lips, biting them a bit. "I'm sure there's more. I'll keep an eye out. Feel free to start wherever you want."

Edited (clarity) 2024-06-29 21:37 (UTC)

Malcolm settles against him and nuzzles Will’s cheek with his nose before turning his gaze to the papers. He takes the stack, flipping through the letters briefly before deciding to start with the drawings. He assumes the first is the cliff Will threw them over.

Good times, clearly.

He presses his own lips together briefly, then flips through the next couple. He holds one up. “…This one is you.”

"Yep, it sure is," Will replies with a small sigh. It's a classical full-body portrait of him from behind...in the nude. The pose recalls renaissance-era statuary, every line glorifying the musculature. The slightly turned face and messy curls makes it clear that it couldn't be anything else, but the scar on the right side of his face sets a time.

Will has difficulty knowing what to even say about it, so he just stares and finally lets out a disbelieving laugh. "I hate that he apparently could draw that from memory. Feels like finding out that my bully in grade school not only likes me, he's been writing my name in his notebook and drawing little hearts around it."

Even with everything Malcolm knows about Hannibal, he still thinks of him as Will’s ex. Will’s abusive ex. Their relationship, as far as he understands it, was emotionally intimate, not physically in the way that his is with Will. But it still doesn’t feel weird that Hannibal would imagine Will like this. …Not the nudity, anyway.

“He’s put you on more of a pedestal than I realized. Like. I understood that he’s obsessed with you, but… you look like the statue of David. That’s… a whole marble plinth he’s got you up on.” A beat. “You are this perfectly proportioned, though. Good eye on his part.” And he shuffles that one to the back. He stares at the next one for a moment. It’s a woman’s face, but her hair turns into… Will’s face. He frowns faintly. “What am I looking at?”

Will scoffs at the last bit of commentary, and it's partially being unaware and partially embarrassment at the compliment. "Maybe after the whole werewolf thing..." he mutters, but there's a smile on his face.

Once the next drawing is viewable, though, his face falls. It's a nice portrait of them both, if a bit surreal itself. In the picture, they're turned away from each other. His own face portrayed a myriad of emotions- anger, sorrow, wistfulness, resolve. Alana's was serene, her eyes closed. If Will's mind didn't work a mile a minute, he might have had some time to enjoy it.

"That's Alana Bloom," he replies, taking in a breath and blowing it out. "Before we fought the Red Dragon, he told me...about his promise to her. That she could be blind and forget what she saw, when she caught him attacking Jack. But if she didn't, he would come for her someday. Maybe..." Maybe he'd done it. Or was planning it, at the very least. "I can't imagine even any version of me that...continued would let him do it."

"He sees you as intertwined in some way," Malcolm remarks. "Isn't he the one that dated her?" Will had wanted to, if he recalls correctly. Then Hannibal framed him and she believed it.

"He is," Will replies, feeling his mouth go dry.

"And I- I was so angry when I got here. At her, especially. Because she was so smart but couldn't figure out she was dating a murderer. Because she tried to save me and failed. Hannibal would absolutely use that to try and cement my...new life."

Malcolm tilts his head slightly to look at Will.

“Your ‘new life’ with him?” he clarifies with a more cautious curiosity.

"...yes." Will lets out a sigh as he thinks about it further. "But there was also...he said to me- well, to Francis, but he knew it'd make it back to me- that 'blood and breath are only elements undergoing change to fuel your radiance.' Well...my 'radiance' was too newly formed. He'd want to protect his new baby monster, until I figured out what I actually wanted."

He opens his mouth, but doesn't say anything for a long moment, before seemingly acknowledging something to himself and continuing. "And if it served his own interest, all the better, right? I doubt he'd understand why I'd be hesitant to kill Alana, if I was so angry with her."

He hopes he'd be hesitant. He hopes he'd keep Hannibal from going through with it. Maybe she's not one of the best people in that world, but she was still trying. She does not deserve to be livestock.

“He made the same mistake with you and him that people make with me and you,” Malcolm notes. “He thinks because you connected so strongly that you’re the same.” He puts the drawing to the back. “You’re not the same.”

He studies the next picture. “I feel like I should have… some reservations about how well he could draw you from memory. Like. Every little detail, down to where you carry your tension.”

"Parts of us are the same," Will gently corrects. "But not that. I wouldn't want to 'get back' at Alana, not when she was doing her best with the information she had. Even if the circumstances...make me angry."

The next drawing is less his usual style. However, it still features Will, leaning over a desk with dark creatures in the dark behind him, growing increasingly grotesque as one looks up and back. Notably, the wendigo and ravenstag are both there, antlers merging near the top of the drawing. Both are looking accusingly at the viewer, eyes a stark white. Winston looks at Will with concern from the bottom right. And yes, even asleep, Will looks tormented, shoulders drawn together, hair scraggly curls. He's wearing what he usually wears to sleep, an undershirt and boxer briefs.

"Yeah, I'm wondering if I'm ever wearing a full outfit in any of these..." Will murmurs. "But I always suspected he had an eidetic memory. And he's probably pushing that angle anyway because he's jealous. He wants both of us to know how intimately he knows me. He expected I'd treat you like Molly, and...leave out some things."

“Parts of you are the same and it tricked him into thinking everything was,” Malcolm says. He’s sure of this. He smirks at Will’s assessment of Hannibal’s jealousy. “It would be petty to enjoy that, right?”

Will smirks and snorts in amusement. "It is, which means you should indulge that feeling. Try it on, like a suit. I think that one would fit you well, personally."

But he seems more than happy with Malcolm's assessment. He suspects the full reason might not be quite that simple, but that's probably a big part of why Hannibal 'miscalculated' here.

"He doesn't usually draw things like this." He notes, finding himself continuing to stare at it. "He prefers classical beauty, and usually saves the beautifully macabre for his 'other' art."

“I… don’t think he killed anyone here. He needed the outlet, maybe.” Malcolm tilts his head to look up at Will again. “Is it weird that I don’t think he even intended to kill me?” he asks.

[the message comes a few days after Will has removed his artwork]

My sincerest compliments to you, Will Graham. I had not meant to take your artwork for an extended period of time.

Oh, I see. Uh...thanks? Have to say- I like art thievery a lot better than the recent massacres we've had with a lot of our new inmates. I personally would've been happy to let you borrow- or hell, keep- something of mine if you'd asked. But I'm aware others might not feel so generous.

You're Thrawn, right? -well, abbreviated. I'm not going to pretend I can pronounce your full name.

I apologize for my theft. I wished to examine these works more closely in solitude and felt that my usurping the gazebo would have been ill-advised.

Few humans can, at least correctly. 'Thrawn' is my Core name, not an abbreviation. What do you prefer I call you?

You can just call me Will. Or Graham, if you prefer. I'm not too picky about my forms of address.

It's a good thing you didn't usurp the gazebo. That'd really put people in an uproar.

If it does not matter, I will likely default to Graham.

Yes. Albeit my murder of Astarion seems to have already accomplished that.

May I beg a few moments of your time to ask about the paintings?

I suppose it did.

And of course. I'm not...uh, properly trained or anything. This is something I learned in the gazebo. So I might have some gaps in my knowledge, terms and things like that.

On the contrary. Your work speaks volumes of who you are, where you come from, your philosophy and your strategy.

For example: you are uncomfortable in society as a whole, and prefer solitude. You would like to hide in nature if you could. Your brushstrokes are not only bold, they are stacked pigment, like the trees you want to disappear into.

[ There's silence for a moment, and then: ] Oh.

Well, now I'm really interested. What sort of questions do you have for me, if you've managed to figure out that much already? Usually, I'm the one telling people 'way too much' about themselves.

[he considers which question he wants to ask Will the most, before landing on;]

May I have one of your pieces for my office?

[ Will chuckles, a little surprised. ]

Sure. Would you like to come to my place and take a look? I do most of my painting there. There's a couple of pieces I'd like to hold onto, but you're welcome to any of the others.

It would be an honor.

I'm in Deck 3, Cabin 7, in that case. Please come by when you have a chance.

I shall.

[He signs off with that severe-sounding promise. After he's had time to answer his other correspondences, Thrawn sets out to pay a call to one Will Graham.

If he had any kind of societal tact or cared about it in any way, he may have realized it might not be best to show up in the garb of a high-ranking naval officer but Thrawn has always felt most comfortable in the most uncomfortable of clothing and wears it like armor whenever he has to come into contact with the unknown. He doesn't do it to impress or intimidate his host, which also has led to some misunderstandings in the past: He does it because showing up in a poncho tends to get worse looks]

[ Will's used to people at the FBI Academy wearing suits for armor- a naval uniform doesn't seem to phase him at all, as he opens the door. Neither does the rest of Thrawn's appearance. He smiles, interest sparking in his eyes. ]

Thrawn? I'm Will Graham. Pleased to meet you. Please, come in.

[ The cabin is large, too large to be an inmate's cabin. It's a two-floor studio apartment, modernly (or modernly for 2021)-styled place, with expensive materials and extremely comfortable furnishings. The main bedroom is probably in the loft upstairs, but there is a large bed taking up the open space next to the kitchen. The bed appears to have leather restraints laying on top, secured to the bedposts.

The kitchen counter is what one sees when entering, with the bed to the right and the living room to the left. A small hallway leads back behind, mostly notable for the corner that holds bowls for feeding animals. There's a tank with two vibrant red-and-black snakes facing the sunken living room. Outside the many windows are the sights of New York City from about four floors up and a sunny Earth day.

This isn't Will's style at all, with very little nature around. However, it is all open, befitting a person who wants to see any threats coming. And there are a few touches here an there that suggest Will- a whittled and rough wood statue of a wolf, soft comfortable plaid shirts laid atop a chair, hiking boots near the door. ]

How have you been finding the Barge so far?

I am he. Well met, Will Graham.

[The stiff, formal introductions over, Thrawn enters the home of what's fast becoming one of his favorite artists.

The restraints are immediately clocked, though Thrawn's initial hesitation is calmed by the secondary realization that Will wouldn't be stupid enough to leave this indiscretion lying about. Whatever activities he and this other person - for there is another person - are up to, it's entirely consensual from what Thrawn can surmise. Which actually comes as a relief; he hadn't wanted his first interaction with Will to delve into so awkward and personal a topic, even if open concept living quarters were the norm here.

He next turns to every living creature who isn't Will in the room, gazing at the snakes and, strangely, the bowls. There's residue heat from dogs, he thinks, his infrared gaze lingering once before returning to Will himself.

This isn't his quarters, but he's made himself a home here, buried in the embrace of another.

He's been silent, and only now checks in that Will asked him a question. He answers, as he always does, with the care that such a question prompts]

As a ship, a frustrating series of locked doors and incomprehensible design. As a prison, far more akin to a luxury cruise vessel than anything previously encountered.

As a collection of people, I find it exhilarating.

[ Will notices Thrawn's attention to the surroundings- of course he does, it's the first thing Will does when in a new place. So he waits, and he'll be happy to repeat the question if needed-- but no, his new acquaintance has it.

The assessment has him smiling, amused. ]

I would say that's extremely accurate. Although from my perspective, I would have to sometimes replace 'exhilarating' with 'nauseating'. Here, come on through the living room, our painting area's in the back.

[ That has the added benefit of showing Thrawn more of their place. The living room, not entirely viewable from the entrance, is elegantly adorned, with brick walls, bookcases, and a large, comfortable couch. More notable are the display cases of weapons on either side of the barely-used fireplace. There's a long notch or hatch in the ceiling above it.

On the left wall are two large art pieces, in ornate frames.

The incongruity continues here, with comfortable throw blankets on the couch, some ratty-looking dog toys and beds, and- yep, there are the two dogs, curled up on the couch next to each other. Winston raises his head and thumps his tail against the couch a little. Will seems to automatically scratch his head and tell him quietly that he's a 'good boy'. ]

These are my dogs, Winston and Buster. I...you probably don't have dogs wherever you're from. But I'm sure you've seen them around. The Barge has a lot of them now.

[His eyes silently take in everything, already studying the two paintings with care as he passes them. The same painter did both, with a striking use of black pigments and haunted expressions. Thrawn eyes Will and then bends down to pet both dogs.]

I have. Solace and Elvis.

[Thrawn stands to move to the middle of the room, for a better view of the whole of it. The weapons warrant a closer inspection; they, too, are art.]

The other man who lives here. The two of you share a strain of...intense pathological disturbance. Woven into each other's lives so thoroughly that even from immensely different backgrounds and schools of thought, you've managed to find common ground in what the two of you hold dear.

[ Will doesn't exactly smile at the assessment, but he does look almost desperately fond. He stares at the floor for a moment, as if trying to hide a blush. ]

Yes. My partner is Malcolm Bright. This is his cabin, which I imagine you already knew. All the weapons are his.

[ The display cases are fully of weapons of a large variety types, clearly all from different eras and different civilizations. Nearly all of them are in excellent usable shape. The display cases themselves only use a simple lock, and- notably- neither of them are locked right now. There is a spot missing for a short, but very thin blade. ]

We've both been subject to mental and physical torture at the hands of serial killers. It's difficult to find people who understand what that does to you.

[this is cataloged with interest. Most people who display weapons don't go through the trouble of maintaining them to this caliber, or if they do, they certainly don't leave the doors unlocked.]

It would explain why you seem to be expecting trouble here.

[He says, gently opening and then closing the case door without taking anything.]

Strange that that could be read as a threat, but I'm not sensing hostility from you.

[ Will was lost in his thoughts for a moment, so he blinks with slight confusion. ]

Expecting troub-? Oh, because of the weapons? No, that's more of a hobby of Malcolm's. And both of us know that almost anything can be a weapon. Don't need a mace or a sword to kill someone.

[ He licks his lips for a moment. ]

There's no hostility, though. You're one of the most interesting people to come onto the Barge in a while. You're analytical and extremely observant. It seems like you're able to understand people from the outside in. I do the same, but it's more...from the inside out.

No, you don't.

[It does make things more efficient, but he has his suspicions about this pack he's been hearing about and acknowledges that there is more to Malcolm and Will than appears at first glance

He makes no outward movement at the word interesting, but Thrawn does blink once when Will describes himself in turn]

An enviable skill. I regret that I often categorize living beings into threats, allies, enemies, but I have never been able to understand them as they wish to be understood. One of my greater failings.

Understanding them doesn't make it all that much easier, trust me.

[ He says it wryly, then gestures to one corner of the large living room. There's light pouring in the window of a kitchen nook, and an easel poking out from behind a corner. The last stop on Will's inadvertent tour. ]

Most would prefer that you have the same level of understanding that they do, so they feel familiar with interacting with you. But people especially hate when I notice things they hadn't intended to reveal, sometimes even to themselves. I might've been well served by your categorization system. Even as an adult, I often didn't catch threats in time.

[ He walks over and onto the tarp laying on the floor. There are two easels next to each other, one with a rather juvenile-looking picture of a dog. The other is clearly Will's, as it has multiple canvases and a couple of sketchbooks next to it. The portrait on the easel is one he's been struggling with for awhile. The layered paint is still there, but there's a strong frustration to this one. Blues are all but banished from the man's 'face', with only a small hint of them left among the yellows and oranges. Streaks indicate Will putting his fingers into the wet paint and tugging.

Will lets out a sigh, seeing it's that one. ]

Most of my art, I don't really have a use for. It's just getting out all the emotions so I can organize them more easily.

[Thrawn isn't given much for overt emotional expression, but his eyes grow narrower and he's more stiff and cold when looking at this latest painting of Will: it's akin to him recoiling in horror.

Not terror - horror. A dread of seeing one's fate in immaculate detail.

He scans the painting again, to grow used to its presence if not the repulsion it evokes]

I understand.

[He's not an artist himself, but Thrawn likes to sit and observe art around him more than anything. It's akin to meditation. He glances back to Will, but doesn't ask who is in the painting. It's not anyone on the ship, clearly: anger and obsession so intermingled would be far more present in Will's day-to-day interactions. Suffice it to say he will not be borrowing this one any time soon, unless it's to meditate on his own enemies he has yet to annihilate]

....I believe I enjoy your true-to-life landscapes most of all.

[ Will gets ready to take that portrait down, but catches Thrawn's immediate reaction and stops for a moment. Honestly, he should have guessed this would be the reaction.

He lets a heavy breath out before carefully setting it aside, and pulling one of the landscapes he has out of the more dry paintings. A jet-black wolf with shining yellow eyes in a winter woods landscape, this time. The wolf has a thick winter fur coat, with occasional raven feathers sticking out of it. ]

I do paint these when I'm...doing better. The last one was the result of a particularly bad flood. The last threat I failed to catch in time.

[ He opens his mouth to elaborate, but just shuts it a few seconds later. He's not sure he could sum up everything about it without that frustration coming back ten-fold. So he just gestures to the one he got out. ]

I don't think there's other influences on this one. It's the rare painting of mine that's just me.

Edited (missed a sentence) 2024-08-14 19:42 (UTC)

If you paint to process your emotions - as evident here - then repressing them will do you no good. Even terrible failures and threats must be considered before one is to achieve peace.

[Thrawn replies, his features smoothing out a second or two later, back to normal. He won't ask Will to elaborate: it would feel like poking a raw wound]

So I see.

A magnificent creature in his element.

[After this.]

Will has gone back to work, of course, since Malcolm got himself healed. Malcolm shows up there one afternoon, hands in his pockets, glancing around like he's shopping, looking to see what Will is up to and if he seems busy out the corner of his eye.

It's only the second time he's ever just shown up at the kennels while Will is on shift. At least he's not a puddle on the floor next to Winston this time?

He peers at a snake in a tank for a moment, slightly distracted by it.

Edited 2024-07-04 19:25 (UTC)

Will knows he's there, even if he's feeding the swamp dragon in the other room. He's too familiar with the scent, and he notices Winston go off to greet the man through the open door in his peripheral vision. Unfortunately, you have to be very careful when feeding him and make sure he doesn't get too agitated, so he takes a minute or two to get everything out slowly and carefully. And then he slowly and casually walks to the door, because post-meal there might be some fire-burps.

Once he shuts the door, he smiles at Malcolm. He knows something's probably not going well, but why not start off a little more positive. "Hey, there. Everything okay?"

When Will approaches, speaks to him, Malcolm smiles. It’s small and tinged with sadness, but it’s genuine.

“Hi. Sorry to…” He waves his hand at the room. “I just… I just needed to see you.”

Will nods and pulls him into a hug, because he's pretty sure Malcolm needs one.

"Well, it's good to see you anytime," he murmurs into Malcolm's ear. "Did something happen?"

As soon as Will pulls him into the hug - shows him its okay - he clings to him.

“Johann came to see me,” he says, pressing his face into Will’s shoulder. “He’s leaving.”

Will hugs tightly back, rubbing Malcolm's back a little. "Oh, Malcolm. I'm sorry."

After a moment of quiet and hugs, he asks, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't... know," he says honestly. "Just... like....... the other week when he wanted me to let him heal me he was all 'you're not alone; I'm on your side' and now he's just... leaving." He takes a breath. "That week when I was... injured, Thomas came to visit and he said he's leaving too, but not yet. Just soon. And they both said they'd be happy for us to visit... Johann said he expects us to visit, but... it still feels like when Raylan and Kiryu and Francis all left in a row," he rambles. "So I came down here, because..." He looks up at Will's face. "I just wanted to see someone who won't leave without me, I guess."

Will pulls back enough to look Malcolm in the face, then leans forward to gently kiss him on the forehead, the cheek, the mouth. It's a reverent movement, to remind Malcolm how cherished he is.

"And I won't. I'm sorry you have to go through this again."

The tenderness of the gesture makes the tension in his frame ease tangibly. His fingers fidget absently at the seams of Will's shirt at his shoulder and his waist.

"Neal's been in a coma for a long time. I know it'll be okay even if it's just you and me left, but... I liked... having friends." His arms slip back around Will and he holds on tight. "But if I can only hold on to one thing that I've never had before, I'd choose this."

Malcolm's sense of loss is tangible to Will. He lets himself feel it for a moment, gently pressing his forehead against Malcolm's, letting the tears well up. One of these days, it'll be Will's turn. Shaw's in a coma right now, but the regularity of it makes it seem less worrying, somehow. It makes her less likely to disappear.

"You still have friends. And we will visit them, but...it's still a break. They're difficult to reach. And it still hurts...I don't think any of it is going to feel real until I'm free to go."

He doesn't apologize this time. It's just how it is. He leans into Malcolm and hugs him tightly. "The moment I graduate, we see how many places Iris is willing to take us. I've been making up a list."

Malcolm looks up at him with wide eyes.

He holds tight to their plans; they mean everything to him but... Will making a list is Will making it tangible in some small way.

"You made a list? What's on it?"

"Hmm...let's see. First, we're headed to our place on Lark's world, but after that..." He fishes his communicator out of his pocket and starts perusing it, finally opening a little notetaking function. "Raylan Givens in Miami. Aaron Stampler in Nie Huaisang's world." He points out the parenthesis and reads it out, "Chinese ghost magic?" before continuing.

"Francis Crozer on his world. Kikimora, Boiling Isles- watch out for the boiling rain. Johann in whatever world he's gone to- haven't checked into that yet. Kiryu Kazama on his world. Help Root and Shaw with the Machine whenever they go back. Visit Maggie whenever she goes back. Go on an adventure with Iris. Back 'home' to apologize to Molly. Spread the 'Good Word' wherever possible."

Malcolm listens raptly, tilting his head to look at the little screen. His eyes glisten a little by the time Will is done. He looks up at him again.

“You really, really thought about it. Like planning a really real trip.”

Hey, with Shaw down - I know you've got people, but if you need a warden for anything, you can let me know.

Also, if you're planning any trouble, I'd appreciate you letting me know.

[That last bit is a tad toungue-in-cheek, but a guy's got to try.]

[ That gets a good chuckle from Will. ]

No plans, other than what I'll do after I graduate. Might be a little trouble there, but I'll be out of your purview by then.

...thanks for reminding me, though. I'm a little surprised Shaw hit her four-month mark again, this time. But having a regular rhythm to it does make it seem less...worrying.

Well, that sounds like my kind of trouble, either way.

I'd say don't graduate while she's out, but I don't think she'd mind, if it came to that.

I bet it would be.

And I'll do my best not to be too good and graduate while she's out, promise. But yeah, even if I did, she'd be the one who got me there.

She would, although you would, too.

How are the dogs?

The dogs are doing good. I've been able to relax my training around them lately- John came by with these collars that make them intangible if someone attacks them. So no more drills to get to the safe points on the boat every day.

I think Buster's taking advantage already, though. He was so well-behaved, and now he's getting a little rebellion back into him. [ Will doesn't sound mad about this at all. ] Keeps trying to pretend he didn't hear me.

Oh - wow. That's pretty handy, isn't it. I'm glad they have that.

[He has always been acutely aware that animals can suffer when people try to find ways to hurt each other on board.

Although he laughs at the idea of such a smart dog taking advantage. He's not surprised.] Well, at least if he's ignoring you, you know he heard you to be actively ignoring it. Maybe he's just trying to get some extra treats out of you. Libby will do nearly anything for extra treats.

Oh yeah. Buster frequently wants to eat everything and fight everything. As long as I keep the fight part under control, I'm not going to worry as much about the rest of it.

[Steve laughs a little.] That sounds like a good plan.

Well, if you ever think it'd help to burn off some extra energy playing with some more dogs, give me a call.

But I would like to check in with you every couple of days in general, if that's okay. Just until Sameen wakes up. I'll try not to be too annoying.

[ Will laughs. ] I doubt I'd ever find you annoying.

So sure. I appreciate the check-ins, actually.

Ah, don't say that. I might take it as a challenge.

But good. I don't want to overdo it, but everyone should have someone checking in.

Multiple someones, really, given how this place gets.

any objections if I bring over one of the lovely new board games?

[Surely he'd heard about the admiral granting the request that he and his grandmother and Malcolm came up with together. As they continued to spend more time around each other, that first hunt had been one of the only moments that brought anything even slightly real out of Walter. But the schedule of this moment is a time Will will realize Malcolm is likely busy or absent altogether.]

[ It's curious. Although Will might be able to guess why Walter's reaching out now. ]

New board games? No, none at all. Come on over.

Great! Malcolm was really helpful suggesting I could go for the exact state in a specific year. I might not have thought I could even copy the games in my cabin.

[Walter is over soon enough. He's bearing three board games under his arm and is laying one of the boxes down on the counter right away.]

Consider this one a gift to my favorite sleuths on the ship. Who also have a nicer room for more people to play it in.

[It's 1960s Clue, the box announcing the detective game is for 3 to 6 players. These come from his grandmother's house in 1989 after all and were bought over time, mostly for his mother. The other two that are laid out on a larger table for closer consideration will be for two players.

The second is Pente, a Go ripoff that should appeal to Will's dramatic mind.

The third one is Sorry. HM.]

[ Well, Walter's right. Will can already tell that Pente will be his stand-out favorite. Sorry is...supporting his guess over what this might be about. But for now, Will turns to look at Clue. ]

Well, thank you. Although obviously you can come grab it anytime, play here or in a common room if you want.

How's the new cabin, by the way? What did you get that has...what, 70's board games in it?

Awww, thanks. [For Cluedo privileges.]

Oh, it's Grandma's house. Well, inmate sized. She was my special person, she thought I'd like it though we had to hammer out the details afterwards. The tupperwares on the second shelf [with its orange mat! You are stuck with it!] are all her, I'm afraid. I'm sure she would have liked you, but all this was a little much for her. [Honestly, she was probably keeping her distance because of that handsome evil European man as well... Kind of a miracle nothing happened, actually.]

[ Will looks up at the shelf and smiles a little. ]

I did see an older lady walking around, with all the other guests. I actually took care to avoid her- my visitor was...not someone I wanted meeting new people. Or any people, really. I hope she found someone to keep her company, at least. I take it you're both very close?

Yeah, she had good times in, like, the lounge, the greenhouse, [Sardonically.] other areas with plenty of open space and witnesses. She passed away before I was 18, unfortunately, but yeah, I'd say we had a very special bond. Went all out with the notes and stuff. It was... precious, though I'm not happy about how many other people were hurt in the flood.

[He looks at Will, sympathetic. It must have been difficult for him and Malcolm to struggle with this even for a few days and surely can't have helped the "unwellness" Malcolm felt after the flood. This must be why he's showing a lot of attention to the matter, and Walter is willing to be taken a bit away from his point because of it.]

[ Will waves his hand, as if to wave off the sudden concern. ]

I think, with this place, you have to take the precious moments with as much weight as the hurt. Because...unfortunately, people seem to get hurt in every flood, no matter how benign it seems. There was one that took our worries away, and Malcolm nearly died.

[ That one's been on his mind, as of late. ]

I'm glad you had some time talking with your grandmother again...even if it was just through letters.

More than letters in some other ways, at least, [Walter says fondly, pointing into that shelf in the kitchen.]

I'm sorry he went through that, or that you did. Malcolm keeps telling me what's not to like about the Barge. I thought he just had a really different experience from most of us, but maybe he's been downplaying things...?

[Still, this is a segue into The Topic, he's not dwelling on the special people themselves any longer...]

Neither, actually. I think he's been downplaying how bad his situation was at home. And I've barely talked about mine at all, lately...I can tell you, if you'd like.

[ He looks over to the living room and gestures that way. ]

But we should probably sit down, in that case. It's a lot to...take in.

Honestly, I came to talk to you about yet another secret third thing. Let's sit down. Drinks?

[He'll follow but he can also serve, he is very trustworthy!]

Ah, I think I'm supposed to ask you that, but...sure. Scotch if you're going alcoholic, iced tea in the fridge if you're not?

[ He knows how Malcolm treats his inmates, and that he'd want Walter to feel comfortable and able to use things here. ]

The secret third thing doesn't have to do with the recent mess involving brainwashing and murder, does it?

[Malcolm really does make this too easy. Walter really could screw with them if he wanted, though for now he doesn't.]

Iced tea for both of us, then? [Doesn't want to misunderstand.] Since, yeah, that, it's serious.

[ Will and Malcolm are both pretty confident they've seen the worst humanity has to offer and lived to tell the tale about it. At the moment, Will is more concerned about backsliding than he is about Walter causing a problem. ]

Iced tea, then. Thanks.

[ He almost asks more, but decides to let Walter broach the subject. So instead he heads over to the living room and sits on the couch, petting Winston on the head as he comes over. Buster realizes he's not getting attention and immediately jumps into Will's lap. ]

I should've asked before, but- are you okay with dogs?

Totally acceptable. [Teasing:] Cats are absolutely better, but it's all good.

[He's carrying over the drinks. He sets them both down. He sits in a separate section from Will. Takes a deep breath. Then:]

Okay, so... [This is really a dam-about-to-break moment, though Will would need more sensory input to be certain of exactly how.] Look, I know I'm going to sound like a douchebag going [facetiously bright] "we're both people who care about Malcolm!!" [But:] But... I seriously need some perspective because I can't help thinking he handled everything about the announcement during and after the investigation in the absolute worst way imaginable. And I am not trying to use hyperbole.

[ Will takes a sip of his iced tea as Walter goes on about the incident. His eyebrow raises, but he hardly looks surprised. He certainly doesn't look upset. ]

Asking for perspective shows that you're asking the right questions. I'm not going to fault you for wanting that.

[ He stops and licks his lips briefly before continuing. ]

Say you were in a similar situation, here on the Barge. A warden kills another warden, with an extremely premeditated poison. But you go to confront them and they seem...blank. What do you do?

[This wasn't exactly what he expected and he thinks it's a very detached tack for Will to take but unlike some people in his opinion, he isn't unprepared to be surprised, so, fair, that's the whole point. He drains a sizable section of his cup and then firmly puts it down, counting points off with his hands.]

Full disclosure, my first priority is incapacitating the attacker with a weapon so they don't hurt me or anyone else. I might have a harder time noticing their affect, but they also have a harder time wandering off.

[He dares Will to judge him for this. Walter has no illusions that it's unnecessary anymore.]

But I'm no sadist, so sure, let's say the minimal response needed clues me in that the attacker is acting weird. I still probably call Trevor or Zack for physical backup. I tell Malcolm why I did what I did, and before this I would have asked him what he thought, but after this, I don't know, maybe Lark. [He gives Will a Look. There are multiple reasons he has an issue with-] Your question presupposes I know the two guys are wardens, which means I know exactly who they are, and I've got to say that makes Malcolm's whole bit about Abel not knowing anyone sound like BS.

[ Will listens quietly, and- rather than judge him for this, Will is slowly nodding with the idea of incapacitating the attacker. It's the first thing he thought, too.

The last bit about the assumptions leads Will to point a disapproving glance Walter's way. He's surely better than this, to throw out a distraction like 'who recognizes who'. ]

You can recognize someone and never have talked to them- not 'known' them- easily.

[ He taps his communicator, currently on the coffee table, and moves on: ] Okay, three things with that solution. I'm assuming you're calling people you do know, and probably trust. As an inmate, you also have the more ethically-convenient step of notifying your warden and letting them figure it out.

So, as soon as this event comes out on the network- and it will, there's always a witness or rumors or someone investigating- you will be screamed at. Or, I suppose, in an inmate's case, his warden will be screamed at. Because information was kept from the Barge public, you see, and that makes everyone- inmates and wardens alike- mad as hell. Nearly everyone here is used to having a great deal of control, at least at one time. It's tough to deal without, to know that you weren't even looped into the brief danger.

More important than that, though, is my second point. Without knowing at all what's happening or how the 'killer' warden ended up in that state, keeping this quiet instead means that no one knows when other people, who are also mind-controlled, kill other people. And then it becomes a massacre of one half of the ship against the other. Now, in this case that didn't happen, but it easily could've. It might've been magic doing it, or some super-advanced weapon or- anything, really. It is important to share information when anomalies like this occur, no matter how uncomfortable it is.

[ He left a hole there for Walter to poke at, and Will wonders if he'll bite. ]

Thirdly, you'd incapacitate the attacker, and I would, too. But Malcolm didn't. Do you know why?

It's because he couldn't spare any time before checking to make sure Abel was dead. If there was any chance that Abel could survive, Malcolm had to try and help. He didn't know what was in that syringe. The implications were that it was to kill, but what if it just made Abel ill, put him to sleep? Start him on an unapproved vitamin regimen? He made sure Abel couldn't be helped first and moved on from there.

Yeah, one of the things I'd do later is scroll the comments in Abel's posts for friends.

[That's his interjection with the communicator thing - he doesn't think it's a pedantic point that Malcolm thought of the situation like Abel was so new that nobody cared he was gone, when the pacing of how the information came out was totally different. He's otherwise listening diligently, though his arms cross at a certain point, which becomes the first thing he addresses:]

Reporting immediate defense of myself or another to my warden is a cop-out? Or blaming my actions on his negligence? No, I don't think so. It's because if my warden judges my actions unjustified or covered-up, he can do practically whatever he wants to me. He can turn me purple.

[Norton's post was clearly an influence in this... but why purple? What mental symbolism does that have for Walter? Maybe someday Will would find out.]

I hate to say this, but checking on the victim is a to-do list item on more than one hand for me. [He's holding up his hands like it's #6 that went past his five fingers.] I hope I can make him comfortable or dignified when I've done everything else I can, but saving him? On the Barge? I've [miming it] kissed that instinct goodbye. If long-term consequences are what really matter, then soon enough he'll be revived, or magic will heal him from whatever else. I'll be asking someone for help with either of those, not doing it myself. Based on the system here, preventing the trauma that the attacker could inflict on someone not yet involved is arguably a lot more important.

Okay then... let's agree that keeping the barge in the loop is important. So important that asking Lark what to do before the announcement counts as passing the burden to him and covering it up. Therefore, Malcolm made an announcement. But he'd ruled out sharing all the exact info he thought he had at the moment, so it went like this instead. [He huffs through his teeth a few times, trying very hard to not cut really deep in his impression of Malcolm. He manages to proceed a slight deeper breathiness.] "Hey guys, what should we do? And by we, I mean the nine wardens and three inmates I personally trust, the rest of you can buzz off until we're done." How on Earth is that better than filtering to those people in the first place?

[ Will nods at the interjection- might be a good idea. And then he lets Walter speak, his face impassive. He sips his tea. It's nice to be the one with experience for once, and he recognizes that at least some of this is fear. There's been a lot of fear on the barge lately.

He takes a moment to shift in his seat, using the time to compose himself for this response. ]

Putting it out there that someone is killing people is important, in case it's not an isolated incident. It could be time sensitive. Both Malcolm and I have extensive experience with this. Once he could focus on people who could help handle this- yes, it took him apparently too long to reply to people's inquiries. Because he was coordinating with the people getting Hilbert to safety. And yes, Zero is safety in this instance. Because Malcolm recognized that Hilbert might be a victim in this too.

[ He raises his gaze to stare into Walter's eyes. His own are steely and unyielding. ]

The victims always matter. Not even I or Malcolm will be here forever. Death has weight out in the real world. The resurrection system here is just...training wheels.

Have you heard about what happened when Malcolm almost died? When he was nearly bled out by a vampire?

What this is training me for is vampires turning out to be real in my world, whom I'll have to preemptively kill, which would be a real shame because I'm sure some of them are very nice.

[That Walter can spout off something this frivolous and manic is a sign that he hasn't totally lost his comfort around Will. Though he's lost his comfort around other things. Maybe victims don't matter to him if they're vampires. The other man clearly understands they both have a lot to say, and he appreciates that. It isn't like talking to a brick wall, but it is... like swimming uphill. Though Walter's eyes are lidded in a saddened concern.]

Malcolm has told everyone who will listen, [and some people who won't...] not just me, that this is the greatest place ever, he can't get enough. He told me floods and breaches weren't so bad and in ports he fought zombies and space pirates and won. ["Street thugs" on a "space station" were his exact words. It sounded so cool. Now Walter isn't sure.] That he's never been killed, look at him. Did the vampire strike during the guilt-free flood, or something else...? He was shocked when I talked about emergency contacts, and I'm getting worried it never occurred to him to actually have a teleporter and healer and fighter on speed-dial...

[Any info about events before Walter's time is catnip to be honest. If it's less nutritious than some of Will's other bait, so be it.]

Hilbert's history here is another high priority for me, if I can ask. There are inmates who get twisted by their powers, or just psychologically triggered, in Zero. Does everyone actually know he isn't like that? It can be the right choice even then, but... [Why does he hate Hilbert so much? But Walter turns his head a bit, not taking that angle as he's sure it'll receive defensiveness. Better to let Will bring it up, though he'll likely think of it as "something Walter didn't know".] Malcolm decided that on his own, with his few friends. He didn't exactly put it to a vote, and I can't say delayed replies is the word. He was never going to include us at all, and he came off like he was taunting us about it. Lynch mob for Hilbert, sure, but why not worry about lynch mob for anyone acting weird and trigger-happy wardens while we're at it?

[Getting worked up again.] Because someone on the barge has killed and might kill again? Even if it happened recently, that's not news to me, not any that gives me more information to act different. [That are borne of fear.] That's not a big red button moment. That's a day that ends in Y.

[ Okay, maybe it isn't the right moment for story-time. He suspects Walter can teeter on the edge of panic for a while, but he doesn't want to be responsible for being the one to hold him there. He does nod when Walter asks if it was the guilt-free flood, but he doesn't come immediately back to it. ]

Malcolm does love this place, and I do, too. It gives us connections that we've never had in our respective universes. Actual friends, healthier relationships. For the two of us, we were both ostracized from society, only allowed out to hunt down active serial killers and then looked down upon for how well we did it. I gave up trying to gain acceptance, but Malcolm was still trying. This place...it's hard to describe just how different it is. How much kinder the people tend to be.

But I am well aware there's a lot of this place that's inherently terrifying for most people. The unreality aspects are awful for my warden. The murders are...a lot of people try to brush them aside, because it's too scary to acknowledge. There's a loss of control.

But Malcolm and I- we had all that back home. And Malcolm focuses on the good parts he's...never had before. Hyperfocuses, even. [ He pauses to consider something, then looks up to Walter. ] Do you know much about Autism Spectrum Disorder? I'm not sure what year you're from.

[Everything Walter's suspected for ages has been confirmed, and the only saving grace is that Will's presence pushes Walter's needle towards pity for the malleable, dysregulated emotions that drove the two men there instead of fury at their subsequent choices. In a smaller voice, hand against the side of his face.] Oh my god, he seriously will dig this hole through the center of the earth into some dark matter alternate universe...!

[Teetering is exactly the word to latch onto, that could destabilize Will if he isn't careful - the flashes, black and white back and forth, like the tokens in that Pente game. It's louder than Walter's emotions have ever been before, the first time they've struggled against the boundaries of their compartmentalization into physical evidence that Will hasn't pushed to examine. It's not just fear. There's empathy.]

I'm from 2021. The discourse has evolved a lot in the past few years - I have to dial references back for people like Lark, even. So, yes, stimming, inertia, special interests, I'm quite well-versed... I've wondered for myself to be honest. I was also born in 1981, though, you know? I certainly have friends in that community and, you knoooooooow... [he says in an almost comedic way] maybe new friends. I have a guess where you're going with this. The blanket nest would have tipped me off if nothing else.

[From a low point:]

I know that things have always been hard for Malcolm, and the bullying and abuse have severely compounded that. But he's also a warden, and I don't get why he picks some of these hills to die on. [You don't die on hills! You scamper down from them to live! Walter learned that!] With inmates. And people he still thinks of as inmates.

[ Will nods, glad Walter's from further on than him, rather than behind. He saw the advances and progress made in the mental health community, although they do still have a long way to go. When Walter mentions the blanket nest, Will chuckles. ]

The blanket nest is also a wolf thing, too. Just so you know.

I'm not exactly autistic, myself. But a lot of my symptoms and behavior manifest the same way. Especially the overstimulation and the shutdowns. My condition is so unique that they don't have a name for it, but I read people's body language and cues too well. My mind handles it by essentially recreating what a person feels at the time. My- well. I've been told it's akin to pure empathy.

What Malcolm had was an early diagnosis, that was then completely ignored and hushed up. Can't have him out in high society if he's... [ Will trails off, not even wanting to use the words. ] And then everything happened with his father, and the trauma of that compounded it. His mother took the 'visionary' approach by trying to stand tall through it, which meant she scolded him for any autistic traits and basically forced him to mask, through trauma, at all times. And then when he went to the FBI, he had to put on even more of a mask.

Here has been the only place he's felt safe enough to explore who he is, because everything has been pushed down for so long, he's not sure what's him and what's the 'rules' he had to learn. I've been helping him with it. And yes, since he's new to it, he's going to mess things up, take stands in the wrong places and come off even more strangely than usual. I don't think he did so here, but hopefully we'll get some critiques that aren't bathed in anger or passive-aggression and we can get somewhere.

What would be good is for him to come out with the fact that he's autistic. In fact, there's a lot of neurodiversity here, maybe I should offer a lecture...

Edited (word change) 2024-07-09 19:32 (UTC)

[Walter nods with dark eyes. Malcolm was poised to shut down as it was, and his mother might as well have been a movie star. Everything was hard. All of a sudden when Will leads up to that ending, though, lifts up his hands.] I was going to say "are you crazy" for a second before I thought better of it under the circumstances. [But he really thinks Will is lowballing how indifferent it sounds.] I concur it would be good for him in the long term, and good for other people. And it's a very personal choice. [Ulla. He is thinking of Ulla. Sorry for his condescension, dear sweet beautiful physically-monstrous Ulla.] But in my not-so-professional opinion, he can't do that right now. Not while this is fresh in people's minds. Obviously you know that autistic behaviors aren't always accepted. Sometimes because of real mistakes, sometimes just because they're different. More awareness also means more "autism isn't an excuse to be an asshole".

Think about it! Is there one person on this boat who already knows what autism is? [Off chance this will rustle up Misty lore, though he doubts it in the focused moment.] I'm going out on a limb and putting my money on Eiffel! [Remembering at the last second he mustn't shout it (all the more so if he shares some sensitivity) he pinches his thumb and forefinger together to dramatically stage whisper,] Eiffel! Hilbert's friend! Who already thinks Malcolm keeps fucking up. [Eiffel hasn't made a statement on the matter just yet, but in the unlikely event he actually approves of this as a warden, Walter thinks he'd go out of his way to set the record straight, considering he's observed him on the network in the first place.] Heck, I think John Doe would take to the idea like a fish to water. "I'll serve your safe foods at our group dinner but I'm very disappointed in you."

[At least Walter's got someone who'll listen to his shaggy dog stories... hyperlexic, Will might think of it as - not just the general sense of a skill, but an imbalanced communication profile that affects reciprocity.]

It was one thing when he was giving tough love to Ken. He was the odd one out in his approach when the others were pretty sure Ken is the victim with his ex-girlfriend, you know. [Walter's undecided on this. Ken's an inmate for a reason and his crimes occurred in Barbieland.] I came over a while ago thinking to ask him about it, he'd seemed snippy on the network for a while, but he was hurting after the flood, I didn't want to give him more shit. [In that blanket nest...] Now, though? If his situation is really holding him back, what happens next time? They're convinced he's abusing his power and don't let him use Zero and the guy gets away?

[ There's a series of eyebrow raises as Will listens, this time. Will's demeanor continues to blank out, a way he's trying to deal with the roiling emotions of Walter, but some of this is certainly things Walter faced in the past. Keep quiet, keep your head down, only inject yourself when you need to, etc... ]

First, I wouldn't ask him to do it now. Hardly. I don't think anyone wants this mess going on any longer than it has to. I'd wait until some other unrelated mess is happening, at least. I'd also probably keep my offer separate from whatever talk we had.

But I do think all the people from fantasy worlds or- hell, even fifty years in the past- would do well to learn about this. People are more open-minded here, in my experience. And if they're not going to be, I'd rather have that out in the open for everyone to see.

Eiffel...well. He can take his opinion and shove it.

[ Will's jaw sets and his eyes focus with intensity at a spot on the floor. After a couple of moments, he takes another breath and shakes his head as if trying to clear it. He lets out a small sigh. ]

Maybe Malcolm's been a little snippy because my...visitor stabbed him in the gut and several other places, and he felt like he had to hide it from people. I finally convinced him to let someone in to get it healed.

Common sense carries the day...

[Walter lowers his hands gracefully with palms out. He does feel bad and blame himself about jumping to his conclusion, though it's one of the only harsh statements he'd outright like to take back. He wants control and for that matter wants this to be a situation he can control through controlling Malcolm's behavior, the way that's become and not always been easy for him.

It seems wise to listen to Will about the others on the barge he's known better for longer - though he wonders if this resentment that's manifested multiple times is what's holding Will back from graduation, conveniently allowing him and Malcolm to circle each other like fish, each providing the sweetness and sourness the other can't express as freely at the moment... Then he swears.]

God damn it. [That bastard visitor. Though Walter doesn't use the term because they visited the barge, not him.] I have tried to support him through that, insofar as he let me know anything about it. But... this isn't a one-off thing, neither Malcolm in particular getting hurt nor anyone else. If so many people say they're getting more scared when he tries to act like everything is running smoothly... what do you think?

[It really is something he should be asking Malcolm. Maybe he'll be fully prepared for that soon. Walter's not sure how many more stories he or Will can handle.]

What I think...is the last time he was seriously injured, he posted on the network about it. Mostly to ask for help. And after he was healed, it became a witch hunt against him for wanting some form of acknowledgement that what he went through was fucked up. So he's doing the opposite this time.

What he hasn't entirely learned is that there's no pleasing everyone, no magical approach that will keep people unshocked by this place and what happens here, so he might as well do what he thinks is right.

[ Will stops opining for a moment and looks Walter in the eye. His stare is piercing, as if he were picking up a piece of Walter's soul and turning it over in his hands. ]

What I'm not entirely sure of is why you're asking me this. You're either scared of being hurt here and upset that Malcolm isn't assuaging your fears in some particular way, or you're scared that Malcolm being ostracized for one reason or another is going to reflect poorly on you. Am I hitting close to the target?

Because—

[I see him differently and how am I supposed to graduate now?

All at once directly from his brain, the vision is visceral, much harder to look over from multiple perspectives as from the inanimate Penta game itself. It's a memory of taking the box somewhat newer than the others down from the top shelf, with its crisp corners in his small hands. The ceiling of the cabinet is actually more exposed to his eye than if he'd had an adult's height when this happened. Then a small dot stirring his vision. One of the game pieces slips out onto the floor, "ping!", and then with the eerie glistening of some thin net that comes into focus, a lot more.

The spider's web was too wide across the corners of the closet, and at the scrape of the game box, it snapped.

Walter isn't necessarily worried by this moment of connection. Perhaps if he saw the contents he'd be a little more unnerved, but he thinks the distinction between his real feelings and Will's inference is subtle enough to not be concerning. Spiderwebs have a million little facets, like diamonds. How could Will looking at his face see the face Walter shows to other people?]

Yeah, I was scared. When he didn't want the rest of us to know about the investigation, I didn't know that would play out anywhere near as well as it did, especially when they had other theories. I don't want to tell my friends "my warden is super great and committed and you should really go ahead and trust him, just ignore the time he put someone in Zero, the gossip about that is so exaggerated".

[Walter gives a smile. He can't do sincere, but he can do "tired". From his emotional outburst, after all.]

I wanted another side of the story. You know, like you promised in the warden ledger. So I guess I'm ready for the real deal now.

Edited ("somewhat newer" + "than the others") 2024-07-28 06:21 (UTC)

[ Whenever this happens with Will- when a strong image just burns itself into his brain without an invitation- he takes notice. So here he sits with it, not replying to Walter in an overly-long pause.

But when he does come back, he looks Walter up and down with a raised eyebrow but a mild expression. He dips his head in acknowledgement. ]

The real deal? You haven't been here long enough to know how this place works. Literally anything is possible here. Some months, a flood or a port or even just certain inmates are going to seem targeted to make you deal with hard truths that you won't be able to control.

[ He sighs. ]

I'd say maybe Malcolm and I have been here too long, gotten too used to how things go- but I went through the messy process of self-discovery back home. I'm sorry this whole thing has scared you.

You know Malcolm is never going to be the guy you want when handling public relations, right? I'm not arguing that. But he will be the one to save your life. That's always his highest priority. That's what he did here.

And you're going to have to be honest with Malcolm, eventually...if you want to revive yourself and leave this place. I suspect that's going to be difficult for you.

[He thought the real deal was reasonable enough - that as roundabout as it seemed to ask someone else, he had come for a "translation" from Will and was now prepared to talk to Malcolm himself. But the thought as he'd told to Yelena that wardens and inmates completed each other (and Walter has glossed "complement" that way, because inmates are inherently broken)... So what, is Malcolm's inability to recognize his grandmother supposed to be a sign that Walter needs to move the fuck on?]

Yeah, well, that's what my file is for, isn't it.

[Perhaps Will knew that Malcolm hadn't read it and Walter hadn't confided about it. But - why? Isn't the point that Walter wouldn't have done this work out of his own free will?

He shuffles, picking up his iced tea.]

Look, I'm getting a feeling that reviewing the instructions for the games will be a little much to process. I can leave all three of them for tonight, come back tomorrow.

[ Will's eyebrows raise at the mention of Walter's file, as if asking "Is it?" But he doesn't speak the words.

As Walter declares he's leaving, Will gives him an amused smile. ]

Of course. And thank you. I'd love to play another game with you anytime.

Hi. I didn't want to show up at your work... all the time. So. I thought I'd call. Hear your voice. If you have a couple minutes.

You can show up at work all the time. The kennels are mostly open to the rest of the Barge because it's therapeutic to pet them.

Feeling like you could pet some dogs? I'm just watching the place right now.

[Even though Will can't see him, he can probably hear him perk up cautiously. And he can probably hear him already moving, a door shutting as he goes.]

It's really okay? I won't get you in trouble?

It's really okay. Get on over here.

[ '-so I can hug you' is left unsaid but is extremely implied. ]

[When he gets to the Kennels and he spots Will, he hesitates uncertainly in the doorway for the slightest fraction of a second and then just... practically lunges into Will's arms, his voice a little muffled by Will's shoulder when he talks.]

Did you see the whole... crunchwrap discussion on the network?

[ Will is happy to give him a big hug when he comes in. He's not sure what went wrong, but they'll get through it. ]

Crunchwrap? Like the...Taco Bell monstrosity?

[ That's a no. Also? Not a topic he expected to come up. ]

Trevor was asking about them on the network. Someone asked for them from one of the kitchen staff, I guess. I warned him about Taco Bell and told him he didn't have to make every weird food anyone asks for. But he said they were going to do it so I told him he needed a sandwich press. I've seen those things on TV. He asked me to come down and help them. I told him I didn't know anything about making food. He said he'd show me. So I agreed to go help.

[All in public, of course, because Malcolm is the best at filtering.]

Once I got there... [He trails off.]

Ah... [ Will suspects he knows what happened. ] Were they trying to make a bunch of them?

Some. He wanted me to take all the three stuffings and fill the tortilla with equal parts of each. But he didn’t have anything to measure them with. He said to eyeball it. I asked how much those things even hold. Like. A visual reference. I don’t know how much people put in them. They’re huge and the smell of ground beef makes me nauseated. He said just to put stuff in until it was full. If it got over full then take stuff out. So I did that and figured out the amounts and put the first one in the press and when I was just starting the second one he told me to leave. But I figured it out just like he said to and he didn’t let me try it when I knew what the portion looked like. I did it and then he made me leave. I warned him when he invited me that I didn’t know how to do it and he said he’d show me and then he didn’t show me and I figured it out anyway on my own and then he gave me the boot in front of everyone. He said he didn’t think I could work under that sort of pressure, but he didn’t even let me try after I knew how.

[ He listens quietly and nods along up until the 'he made me leave' part, at which point he seems to get lost in his thoughts and frown a bit. Yes, they're still hugging. And no, Will isn't separating anytime soon. Instead, he's rubbing circles into Malcolm's back. ]

That's rough.

You and Trevor have gotten along pretty well before, haven't you? This is the first time I've heard of him being short with you.

Yes. But... he contacted me during the thing with Hilbert. He's friends with Hilbert. I thought the conversation went well at the time but... do you think he did this to embarrass me on purpose? To get me back?

No. Trevor's not that sort of guy. He doesn't put any stock in embarrassment. He'd rather hash things out, if he has a problem. He'd tell you if he was really pissed off about the Hilbert situation.

But also, cooking is an anxiety-inducing job. It tends to leave anyone working it with their nerves fried, as they try to make sure they handle the timing of everything correctly. If he was in cooking mode, he probably didn't have the patience to watch you figure out what he meant by 'eyeballing' the amount.

Or he might've realized he put a task to you that was as tough as you said, that you weren't just being hyperbolic about the ground beef, and that he was doing you a disservice dragging you in there. Maybe it was a combination of both.

Either way, the problem wasn't really you. It was a bad situation.

But I said I didn't know how. He practically... cajoled me into going anyway. In public. It shouldn't have been any surprise that I didn't know how. But he kicked me out when I figured it out! I did it. I did it like he said. And then he kicked me out. In front of everyone. Even though I pointed out that I had worked out what to do! Are you sure he doesn't take an eye for an eye and an incident of public shame for an incident of public shame? I didn't even do anything to Hilbert except protect him from getting harmed any further.

Malcolm...hey, look at me.

[ He pulls back far enough for Malcolm to be able to look at his face, so he can see the truth in it. ]

I'm sure. Trevor's not a high-society guy, dealing in passive-aggression. He wouldn't do that to you. He either didn't listen to your words, or he didn't interpret them literally. It was a mistake on his end.

[ Despite the sad look in Will's eyes- this is all a reminder of how poorly Malcolm's been treated all his life- his lips quirk up into a small smirk. ]

Trust me. This is my area of expertise, right?

[Malcolm holds his gaze for a moment and then nods. He does trust Will and Will's perception of people. He's right about that.

Malcolm hesitates a moment and then confesses.]

I still feel bad.

[ Will pulls Malcolm into a tighter hug then and speaks into Malcolm's ear. ]

I know. I'm sorry.

[ He kisses Malcolm's head, just above that ear. ]

Do you want to talk it over? Or would you rather take a break from this?

I want to talk about it. I still don't... I still don't understand it. He could have let me prove myself after I figured it out. I bet I could do it, then. I didn't... how was I supposed to know how much stuff goes in one of those wrap things? I didn't have any frame of reference.

You didn't. I think he assumed you had a different frame of reference. You're from a time when these exist, but that doesn't mean you've even eaten tacos, much less a crunchwrap.

"They didn't smell good," Malcolm mutters petulantly. But then he lets out a breath. "It's... it's probably not a big deal or anything. I just.... I just get kicked out of a lot of stuff without actually being given a chance and..." And? He considers that for a second. "And when he said no, really, come down here and help us; I'll show you....... I believed him. I don't... habitually trust that sort of thing - I'm usually so, so careful - but I did trust him and... I feel like I got tricked."

"He let you down," Will replies quietly. "Him doing it out of a lack of consideration for you, rather than malice? That doesn't make it feel any better."

Will traces the curve of Malcolm's jawline with one hand, his thumb rubbing gently against Malcolm's cheek. "That makes it worse sometimes. I know. It was that way with Alana, most of the time."

Malcolm looks up at him, that contact from his fingertips so soothing.

"It hurt like this? Why didn't she..... care what she did to you?"

"She cared. But she didn't understand me. So what she thought of as help, or for my own good, often made things worse. And it made me realize that...we didn't know each other."

He lets his breath out in a sigh, but he doesn't look mad about it. If they had this discussion a year ago, it would've been different. "There were a few times she got things right, though. I learned to pick those times out and cherish them. Not until I was...here, admittedly. But I did."

"I guess that's the kind of thing that here is for..." He pauses thoughtfully. "I'm kind of mad, though, that everyone in your life was so selfish that a psychopath that bonded by stabbing was the most considerate one."

Will smiles, in that way that makes it look almost like a parody of a smile. "Amazing how that worked, yeah. I did often think that I was diving straight into psychopathy, considering what was expected of me and what I was being treated like. I don't think I'd ever consider people akin to cattle like Hannibal did, but..." But the worthless people far outweighed the good. Hell, the utter monsters far outweighed the good, too. He still doesn't feel entirely comfortable giving form to these thoughts.

"I was astonished, and then glad, to have it confirmed to me multiple times that people here didn't think I should've been...treated like that. Alana gets something of a pass because she was at least trying...even if her ego got in the way. Even if it hurt more sometimes. At least she did care about what happened to me."

“Well…” Malcolm slides his hands up Will’s chest to loop his arms loosely around his neck. “I care what you want. I didn’t realize at first that that was some next level thinking, but I’m going to keep doing it,” he promises.

Will breaks into a light laugh. His smile softens into something more genuine as he looks at Malcolm. "Apparently it is. ...thank you."

He pulls his hand back to put both of his arms around Malcolm's waist. "I'm sorry you had a disappointing experience. I've taken care to not...do anything like that to you, but if I do? Please tell me. I'll do what I can to make up for it." He wants Malcolm to know he'll always be there, at least. That he won't be a pillar that crumbles away when Malcolm least expects it.

"I... think you understand how.... how I work inside too well to do that, but... if it happens I will definitely.... look into why you're so distracted that you didn't notice," Malcolm says, serious but also smiling at him.

[Shaw is not a panicker - not even when her inmate unceremoniously disappears from her warden item, and she's well aware that there are only two potential causes of that, one significantly better than the other. Still, there's a note of urgency in her voice as she says--]

Graham, check in.

[ Will responds near immediately. ]

Checking in. Everything okay on your end?

[ It's a little early for a flood, isn't it? ]

[ Oh, thank god.

This is, she thinks, a conversation best had in person. ]

Come by my cabin for a sec?

O-kay...? See you in a few minutes.

[ He's not sure what's up, but it doesn't sound like an emergency. So he gets up, rubbing Malcolm's shoulder a little (so he doesn't fall asleep all the way without Will there), murmurs that he'll be back soon, and heads over to Shaw's.

He walks over to her place with his hands stuffed in his pockets. The ship itself is louder than usual- probably signs of a headache on the horizon- but nothing unusual is going on.

He knocks on the door, his best guess that this might be related to the dogs. ]

Edited 2024-08-08 16:54 (UTC)

[Shaw pulls the door open just a second or two after the first knock, motioning him in (upon which he is promptly and enthusiastically greeted by Jet and Bear) and tossing him her warden item. Her expression is unreadable, but her eyes are intent and alert as she says:]

Someone'd better play "Pomp and Circumstance", because you're not on there anymore, cowboy.

[ Will greets the dogs first, as is proper. He gives them both plenty of petting and says hi. Chuckles escape from him, a response to their enthusiasm.

But his eyes narrow in confusion as she tosses him...her warden item? He stares at it somewhat blankly as her words sink in. ]

I...are you saying I graduated? I'm...

[ He doesn't finish the sentence, instead letting out a flummoxed scoff. ]

But I didn't...nothing unusual happened today.

It was building slowly until you finally popped?

[She guesses, and then shrugs.]

I dunno. The Admiral didn't even give me the courtesy of a message about it, let alone an explanation.

'Popped'?

[ He raises an eyebrow but he's smiling. The news is starting to reach his face. ]

Okay, I- I did it. We did it. I...would've thought the Admiral would at least tell you, but who knows? Maybe he enjoys surprises.

[Shaw moves into the kitchen, opening up an upper cabinet and stretching up to retrieve a bottle.]

When I called you, I didn't know if you'd graduated or if you'd just disappeared; if you hadn't answered within the minute, I was gonna go scope out your cabin. You want some scotch?

I would love some scotch.

[ He follows Shaw, settling near the kitchen counter. ]

That reaction's fair, of course. I've been on there almost a year and a half. That must've been concerning. And here, weird surprises are usually a bad thing, not...this.

God. I'm alive. And I can leave the boat. And I can help you, when you go back.

I haven't been concerned. Especially not lately. Some jobs take longer than others.

[ She pours them each two fingers - then pauses, thinks, and adds two more. They're celebrating, after all. ]

And I'm looking forward to having a new consultant.

[ He looks like a contented cat, now. ]

I meant more my disappearance off the item, but- noted. You've always been fine with however long it takes. Took, I suppose.

Are you still going to try asking for Root's life, for your Deal?

[Before answering, Shaw takes her drink over to the couch and sits, resting a hand on Bear's head. ]

That was the plan. Can't now.

[ Will follows her, sitting on the other side and petting Jet. ]

I thought that might be the case...are you certain? Have you asked the Admiral about it?

Zhao said it wasn't possible; given his situation, I figured he'd know. But... yeah. Asking the Admiral can't hurt, sure.

[ She pauses. ]

I was concerned when I noticed you were off my item. And I'm relieved as hell that you didn't just disappear.

...ah. Yes, he'd probably know. Sorry to push it.

[ He nods at the second bit. He also takes a sip of his drink before continuing. ]

I feel like you should get cookies, too. Not just as a reward, but an indicator that you've done it. Or at least something.

Cookies? Oh, Root's definitely gonna bake me those.

That's true. You already have a veritable cookie-making machine here. You won't be deprived for long.

Speaking of, if you want anything to go with that scotch...

[ She nods towards the fridge. ]

[ Will laughs. ]

Nah, I already have a plate waiting for me today, I'm sure. Any other time, and I'd take you up on that.

Ah, hell...I'm going to have to start working somewhere else. The kennel's full up on wardens.

At least you already have a full kennel in your cabin. You got any ideas yet?

[She has no idea how much he's been anticipating that this moment would happen soon, and planning and preparing accordingly. But she, for one, isn't surprised that it's happened now.]

Edited 2024-08-10 14:09 (UTC)

I was going to join Food Inventory and work with Harkin. But Jesse got to it first.

[ He likes Jesse and thinks the job suits her, so he's not particularly upset about it. It's just too bad the timing isn't a little better. ]

I don't know. Guess I'll see what has openings. The only thing I'm actually qualified for, ironically, is counseling.

[Shaw hmmms, studying him.]

Do you hate that idea?

I- what, seriously?

[ He almost dismisses the idea automatically (like he would at the FBI), but the question makes him think about it. ]

Well, I definitely know what not to do... and I don't think I'd hate it trying to do that sort of work here- maybe. Huh...

Edited (clarity) 2024-08-14 03:02 (UTC)

If you don't hate the idea, I think you'd be good at it.

[She pauses, and then amends:]

I think you'd be good at it either way. But it's only worth doing if you don't hate it.

I could give classes on the basics- Psych 101- so people might actually know what trauma is. How to work through it, that sort of thing...

[ He looks thoughtful. ]

Yeah, I- I'll give that some serious thought.

[ Will laughs, then- a little nervous chuckle. It's still a little surreal to be entertaining the thought after everything, but something seems appropriate about it. He goes back to nursing his scotch. ]

I'm glad to have some things to figure out, now. I- I'd like to keep patrolling with you, if that's all right. It's been good structure for me. Keeps me from becoming a complete hermit.

[Sweeney hadn't been ready. How could he be? All he knew was Jax was licking his face to wake him up. With a quick scratch of the hackles, Sweeney pushes himself up to sitting. He squints, trying to figure out why things don't feel right. The floor doesn't offer a great vantage. When he stands, everything falls into place.

OH.

A swell of emotions crash over him. They're complicated at best, but when he gets to the other side, they've settled into 'overwhelmingly positive'. Sweeney pulls out his comm.]

Hey

You got a sec to come by your place?

Sure, I'm not busy. See you in a few minutes.

[ He makes sure Malcolm is awake (they'd been dozing on the couch). Then he heads down to Deck 6, curious if Harkin has something new he's been working on (he was always making or growing or working on magic). Or maybe there's something else going on. It's always hard to tell, considering how busy the ship is.

He knocks on the door, waiting a few moments before opening it. His brother knows he's coming.

Will promptly stops in his tracks, however. He didn't expect to see grass on the ground in front of him. ]

At the knock, Sweeney makes his way in time to see Will's face. It's worth it. Jax cross to Will, his tail wagging happily.

"Guess it kinda says it all." He shrugs sheepishly. "Better than I could, anyways." Sweeney tilts his head and swings a thumb over his shoulder.

"Yer cookies are inside, if yer feelin' peckish."

Mostly, he just wants to give his brother some time to process. It's A Lot.

Will is rather frozen in place, the implications of this (and cookies, he's definitely heard about those) finally starting to settle in. But once Jax reaches him, the freeze breaks and Will crouches down to pet him. "Hey, Jax. Got your yard back, huh?" he murmurs as he rubs behind the dog's ear.

By the time he stands up again, he's shaking his head and letting out a couple of chuckles. "This is... what the hell. I graduated? I must have." He lets out a noise, something between a laugh and a scoff, and looks to his brother for (another) confirmation.

As Will finishes with Jax, Sweeney closes the distance. The man's question is answered by a wide grin and hearty, one-armed squeeze around the shoulders.

"Aye, Pup. You did." It's such a warm feeling, and Sweeney isn't sure what to do with it. Still gripping Will, he turns back enough to survey the façade with a squint, as if he's never seen it before.

"So why don't ya come in an' show me 'round the rest'a the house."

Sweeney hasn't looked it over; texting Will was the first thing he'd done. The only other was feeding Jax before he sat to wait. It's not his house after all. It's weird enough when it's the one room; no way he's wandering the place without proper invitation.

Will stops questioning at that point, and he grins at the ground for a moment (which has him actually grinning at Jax, who is very happy about it). Smile still in place, he leans against his brother's weight briefly- acknowledgement and appreciation of the one-armed hug.

The suggestion gives him something to do while he continues to chug through all that this means. "Yeah, sure. Of course. Let's see it," he says, sounding more confident with every step towards the house. "Although the front room's the best part."

He walks in, and the front room is both bigger and slightly less crammed full than it used to be. Piano, living room side, bed side- and now there's a hallway in between, where the little half-bath used to be. A plate of homemade chocolate-chip cookies is on the mantle of the unused fireplace, higher than Jax can reach. And of course, anything Sweeney's brought in still remains.

"This is weird," Will notes, but then he laughs at himself. "He says, on the interdimensional spaceship. Yeah, the layout's the sa- oh, no stairs, though." He's started walking through to the hallway, and where he indicates seems to be a closet. "No second floor, I guess. Not that I ever used it."

Sweeney lets him lead the way, his smile not lessening.

The only things that are noticeable of his are a rug and pillow on the floor next to the bed and two hodge-podge stuffies on the nightstand.

"Maybe you can ask fer it? If ya e'er get ta wantin' it." Sweeney wets his lip. It brings up an obvious question.

"You gonna move back? You an' Malcolm?" It sounds silly out loud, and he shrugs it off.

"Or like...trade off or somethin'."

He shakes his head and waves his hand. "Nah. We'll stay at his. And I never even cleared out the previous owner's belongings from most of the second floor. The indoor space wasn't what I bought it for." No, it had been for the location and the windows.

As he continues, the hallway opens up on the left to a little room- it was probably a dining room at one point. Everything's cleared out except for the desk in the center. "I get distracted easily," he tries to explain sheepishly. "I'd grade papers here." On the right is a door, which Will opens to a bathroom. Not huge, but still has everything one needs to get clean. There's a 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner bottle of Old Spice in the shower caddy. A delicate framed picture made of dried flowers hangs on the way. It doesn't suit Will's tastes at all.

Continuing down what was once a hallway, the kitchen is large but somewhat sparse. It befits the house's previous identity as a farmhouse- lots of space for a big table and the means to cook mass amounts every day for the hungry workers. There's a door in the closest corner that Will tries- "Ah, mudroom's here, and the door in the farthest corner is the pantry. The last owner left some plates and pots and the like. Most of it's in good shape."

Jax pushes into the mudroom and comes out with a rope toy. "Annnd Jax clearly remembers where I put away most of the dog toys," Will adds, with a pleased smile.

He follows dutifully, fondness keeping his eyes bright as Will walks him through the experiences, as well as the space. The one area he doesn't go into is the bathroom; he lingers outside the door as his brother has a look. Sweeney doesn't comment, but is happy to move on and enjoy Jax's delight.

"Good thing the prick put all the things in it when he gave it to ya." He means the Admiral expanding his cabin. The cunt didn't have to, after all. Sweeney's mind wanders some, and a tangent curves sharply.

"This mean you an' Malcolm are gonna get married?"

Sweeney's supportive of the idea, and he knew that they'd been waiting on Will's graduation. That just isn't going to hinder it anymore.

It certainly is a walk down memory lane, as Will hadn't seen some of these places in four years now. But Harkin's question brings him right back to reality. His eyes widen as he realizes all that it means.

With a small, joyful laugh, he says, "Yeah. Yeah, it does. I just have to ask him. See what he might want to do for it."

That's good to hear, a nice encouragement that positive things are continuing to happen. It lets him ease into the new situation. Sweeney still isn't confident that he'll be able to bring himself to use the bathroom.

"I'm sure the two'a you will come up with somethin' grand." He leans in with a touch of mischievous conspiracy.

"An' terribly romantic."

Will chuckles again, shaking his head lightly. "Ah, that'll probably be mostly Malcolm. I have a more difficult time with...er, planned events. But we'll figure out something good, I'm sure."

This is a Lot. It's all a lot, and there are going to be more changes soon. Good changes, but he feels the thread of uncertainty curling around his finger. Will lets out a long breath, pats Jax, and turns to look at Harkin. How does he tell the man he's not planning to leave the Barge for a long time, without breaking out the promise that Sweeney's heard a bunch of times before?

Well...maybe he doesn't. There's too much to focus on right now anyway. Instead, he heads for something adjacent. "We'll probably enlist you for help, whatever it is. I'll think of something good to offer for it," he adds with a pleased grin.

He can't help but chuckle.

"Plenty worth seein' you smile. An' do that kissin' shit at the end," Sweeney pokes brightly. "I've done a few weddin's in my time. Nothin' super modern, but I'm sure I'll f'gure out somethin' if Malcolm needs a hand."

Sure, he'd done the handfasting for Steve and B, but the whole point of that was to make it old-fashioned.

[A little over an hour after this, as a voicemail:]

Hey. Malcolm told me the news. I was actually bothering him about something else at the time, so, sorry about that. We've been... No, I should say I pushed him away. You might have your concerns, I know... Anyway. I just wanted to say: congratulations.

Thanks. No need to apologize- warden-inmate business comes first while we're here, anyway. Sorry to hear you two on the outs.

Hey

You ok?

Mostly. I'll be much better a day or two out from this. A few more showers couldn't hurt, either.

I saw you. Harkin-you, after I'd infected you. But that wasn't real, right? You didn't see me in that other place?

[Did he? Sweeney isn't sure. He was pretty fucked up.]

Pretty sure I didn't see you at all.

And I wasn't infected.

Or didn't stay that way if I was.

[That's worrying on multiple fronts.]

Did I hurt you?

Senior Will seems to be quite busy. [ It seemed only fitting that he should stop calling the other man as a donor as if they were still strangers. So the previous inmate turned warden got a new form of formal address from his temporary inmate. ]

So this young monk wouldn't want to take up too much of Senior's time.

But if it is possible, does senior think he will be able to talk to the esteemed Admiral on Wu Xin's behalf about releasing the holds on the meridians? It was suggested to this one that there might be the possibility where the Admiral has the power to place a hold on my previous abilities instead of a physical hold on my body. As such, this young monk may work to relearn an internal force from scratch. An empty cup can refill slowly drop by drop, but a full cup with a lid upon its waters will be useless as it is.

[ It would take a decade to reach the levels he was before he boarded the Barge, but he was quite certain that even half a year of cultivating his internal force would make him more useful than the average person. ]

The previous events have proven that this vessel is far more dangerous than originally anticipated.

[ Oh, he's 'Senior' Will now? It makes him smile. ]

Hey, Wu Xin- just so you know? You're still my priority here. So don't feel bad about taking up time. Even when we're not paired anymore, I'll do what I can to help you out, okay?

That being said...I can ask for you, but I still think it's unlikely that the Admiral will allow it, since it's a change to your body. But tell me- is the block causing you discomfort or pain? Problems of that nature? I'm not sure what putting holds on the meridians looks like, especially if you're highly attuned to the change.

I do want you to have means of defending yourself, though. The Barge is not usually...that bad, but it's never completely safe here. So we'll work something out, if the Admiral doesn't go for your request. I know you probably haven't extensively used weapons, but that I'm sure I could get for you. Is there anything you'd be okay with using, or trying? I can arrange teaching for whatever it is.

[ That bright a warm feeling to the young man. He liked that priority, and although he was the priority for many people back where he was from, it wasn't the good type.

It might be because of that that he was a bit more open to answering the next question. It wasn't something he told anyone about. ]

No, not pain. It is simply an adjustment, but not a physical discomfort. The body feels colder now, fatigues easier. Weaker without the ability to draw on that inner force and relying only on this physical shell.

[ Ah, perhaps that was why that acquaintance of his who went through the same thing was always in a fur coat. ]

But that is not something that the release of meridians would return since it is the cultivation of internal force itself that allows all that.

[ Wu Xin smiled gently at Will's a sincere words. ]

Defense is not an issue... After all, this young monk can run.

It's not always an option, running...but I have to admit that you were more adaptable than I was to that madness. Thanks again, by the way.

[ It might be possible to hear the smile in his voice. ]

Okay, that gives me enough to start from. I'll go ahead and ask. Did you run into anything that was...tougher to deal with, in there?

[ Everything? ]

Thankfully the hallways were long and varied, and there were many heroes willing to help.

[ Wu Xin honestly never had to do so much running in his life, or, at least, so much physically running from a battle. ]

But senior is quite welcome.

[ Yeah, that's not exactly an answer, but Will understands anyway.

Will doesn't address it just now. There's a short pause, as the Admiral gets back to him immediately. He'd thought it would take awhile. ]

Can I ask what previous abilities you'd be having a hold placed on, instead of the meridians? I'm not sure what's possible in your world. I assume these are 'more than most humans are capable of' sorts of abilities?

[ That was a difficult question to answer. ]

Humans are humans. Without knowing what other humans of other worlds are capable, I cannot speak for them.

The average man use muscles for their everyday work. The farmer pushes the plow with what strength he has in his arms, trained up from lifting and pushing.

Martial artists learn to use both muscles and their energy. In a person's body, there are pathways for the energy to run, that is what we call meridians. Blood have their vessels, energy have meridians. Now, as martial artists train their true energy with various different schools, they are able to apply that force into everyday things. A palm strike with just muscles could break a table, but depending on a person's force, it could break the table, shatter the chairs around it, or even bring the establish down.

There are levels of abilities in my world. At the highest level, it is said that they have reached the celestial realm and can traverse the world with a thought. Time slows, their abilities are unimaginable. I have never seen one and is unsure if such a person exists at that stage at this moment.

But at the level beneath beneath that, the heavenly realm, a sword strike from a master of that realm can bring down hundreds or thousands, wreck buildings and carve a line right thriving a city... A state which I have not reached.

[ He smiled gently, knowing that was a very long introduction. But now was even the harder thing to answer, what he could do. ]

But I have trained my inner force energy to the level of the freedom realm, the one beneath heavenly, which does make me one of the more established martial artists of my world and possibly the best or top handful for my age.

But force is force, like muscles, that is the state of the person. There might be different ways of cultivating a force that gives it a different flavor of it, but that is just the method in which it was cultivated. What senior might be asking would be the skills that we learn that utilizes these forces.

And... Ahhh... How to explain this. I might have under my sleeves learned quite a number of secret arts, which... May be powerful form of techniques that utilizes my inner force in ways that would be 'more than most humans can do'. They are a varied collection, from lightness abilities used for travel to abilities of the heart that could be used to mesmerize another. And various types of martial arts, of course.

Like the defensive shielding was one of them, and the only one that I could channel energy to utilize, it seems, as it is a form of inner energy that is different from the collection of other arts I have learned.

It is quite difficult to explain it really.

No, I think that will help a great deal. Thank you. Give me a moment.

[ And after a couple minutes of a pause, he returns. ]

I'm sorry, Wu Xin. The Admiral didn't go for it. You'll have to wait until you have a permanent warden.

I know this probably goes against your monk-like tendencies, but- let me know if that cold feeling gets worse, please? We'll try to find another workaround, in that case.

That is quite alright. This young monk thought it was worth a try. Thank senior Will greatly for making the attempt.

The ship is quite warm really. With it feeling like spring all around, there is little to worry about. And the wardrobe senior Will brought me includes the thick winter blankets that were used during the days when white carpeted the temple grounds. It is plenty enough.

You know, sometimes I really miss being able to track your location. Check in.

I'm on Deck 2 right now, or at least I think it was Deck 2 last I saw the Barge. If you've run into the other me, watch out for bleed- well, I am now, too. Lots of blood, though, from seemingly nowhere.

[ He sounds a little dazed. He's trying his best to stay focused, though. ]

I haven't, but Avalon has. You're bleeding?

Yep. Shoulder, didn't hit anything vital. I guess I didn't have enough scars there already.
Avalon okay?

Concerned about you.

Yeah. [ His laugh is rather mirthless. ] Honestly, I don't blame you. I'll be all right, though. Just trying to make sure the least amount of damage gets done.

Why don't we come find you? Three heads are better than one.

That would be great. If I get back into...normal space, I'll try to head for the Infirmary or Counseling. I'll try to let you know if I make it.

I know you will, but- be careful.

Yeah. And if you see my inmate, Hua Binan - we're trying to stick together, but it's easy to get lost.

I'll keep an eye out for him. I know how it is out here.

Wu Xin's hopefully staying safe in his cabin, but...I know he's prone to wandering. If you see a young bald monk, make sure he sticks with you, yeah?

That's the guy who calls everyone "Donor", right?

That's him. Bright, energetic, stubborn as a mule. He might be fine- I got the impression he knows how to fight, but. Just in case.

that was fast

No kidding. I was surprised, too. Barely had time to get tired of relaxing.

I suspect the Admiral's starting me off with an easy one because he knows I'm here for a good long while.

Hey Pup

Just wanted to let you know I'm up and moving.

Appreciate you taking Jax.

Hope things are going well.

Thank goodness, I was worried. Glad you're up.

Things are going well over here.
At least so far. Malcolm and I are enjoying the cruise. Hope you get to do the same.

Ulla's pretty much constantly in the water, by the way, so go join her when you get the chance?

Yeah, we have plans for tomorrow.

You been spending time together?

Sure have. Malcolm days it's the first time he's relaxed

maybe ever? Probably in decades.

And you know me, I have my fishing.

Laura there with you? We all missed you, but she stood sentry by your side.

She is.

I hope she didn't give you too hard of a time about it.

[He knows she wasn't necessarily eager to trade off shifts.]

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