empathicfault | IC Inbox

It takes Avalon a moment to find Will amongst the plethora of new minds on the Narrenschiff. He feels different from how he had before they had lost their powers, but they have no idea what the difference is. Before they connect fully, he might feel them brush his mind a few times, as if moving on in their search and then coming back to him. His mind has been silent before, so they could be wrong.

When they feel more confident that they have the right mind, they switch to words. ::I heard what the Captain said about letting wardens go home, but if he has trouble with supplies, removing mouths to feed would be an easy choice. Do you think he needs us for something?::

Will wasn't expecting this, but he wasn't completely surprised by it, either. After all, John had offered to share messages telepathically. Other people who could talk that way would be able to do so.

He doesn't notice until the words begin, but he'd been bristling for a short while at seemingly nothing. This explained it. Once identified, Will's defensiveness eases down. Funny how Avalon's become someone he trusts, lately.

::I think he does. Either he needs the living souls to provide a battery, or...I'm not sure. Maybe we're a bartering chip? Whatever it is, I can't imagine it'd be good.::

They feel him tense at their mental touch, then start to relax when he recognizes them. ::Would you prefer the communicators?:: They trust their telepathy more than the Narrenschiff’s network, but they think private communications could still be secure.

::The Barge has encountered other ships before, but I only know what others have told me. I could see the Captain wanting to use us as a battery.::

Edited 2024-10-12 03:19 (UTC)

Will sends a mental shake of the head. ::No. No, this is good. I don't know if I trust the network, being 'gifted' to us by the Narrenschiff as it is::

He sighs. ::I missed the other ships, too, but I came in shortly after them. I heard some terrible stories, and I think people were still hurting from it. This is- it's not as structured. It's not structured at all. It's clawing, desperate, but trying not to be::

::We should try to be as prepared to defend ourselves as we can, I think::

::I heard that no one graduates or gets deals here, but not much else. If they have difficulty with supplies and no goal to work towards, then why stay?::

They lay back in their hammock, staring up at the ceiling. ::What feels desperate? The people here, or the ship itself?:: They can sense most people here, but have yet to try to reach out to anyone directly. Some people are perceivable but unreachable, and some feel completely nonexistent, just like people on the Barge.

[Malcolm hasn’t come home yet. When he calls, Will probably recognizes that he’s sitting in a back corner of the greenhouse with his back against the wall. He can see the pond from here.]

What if I Become by evolving into a bad person so slowly, I don’t even realize it’s happening? Does it work like that?

Will, who had been looking forward to a break from picking up charred furniture, stills in place. He looks at the video and tilts his head to the side, practically burning a hole in his communicator.

"That's how it was for me," he answers truthfully. "But it was fully orchestrated to be that way. If you're concerned about it, it hasn't happened."

He'd been leaning against a wall, but now he pushes off of it, making his way towards Malcolm as if they're magnetized to each other. "What did happen?"

"I saw Justine in the counselling office. I asked her why she attacked Walter when John told her not to. She said John's not the boss of her. I asked her why she did it. She said I can't understand. I told her it wasn't right to take revenge when the people involved had resolved it between themselves. She said I'm disgusting and everyone hates me and they love her and... I didn't care. I didn't feel anything. I always feel something. But in that moment I looked into her smug, spoiled brat face and just... didn't care." He pauses. "I think I broke something. In me, I mean."

He frowns. He needs probably more details to pick this apart, but can at least see where the discussion got twisted. And what Malcolm's major concern is.

"There's a lot of possible explanations for what happened and why you didn't feel anything. Only one is that you're turning into a psychopath. And despite what your entire home world seemed to be constantly trying to convince you, that isn't the most likely option."

He stops looking at the camera, if only to make sure he's not going to trip on anything. "What if you just realized it wasn't worth entertaining the obvious bait she threw in your direction? Most people are capable of at least...toning down their emotional responses, when they have a reason to. What if you're starting to learn that skill?"

He considers that.

"...She is just... really spiteful and self-centred."

"She's high society, too," Will points out. "Quite a few decades away from what you're used to, but I think you can identify some of those issues a little more easily. Maybe you've built up a wall or two."

And it's a little unfortunate, because Will had seen some potential in her beyond the opulent displays and aristocratic crap. Justine is brilliant and loves learning. He suspects she's very clever and might actually enjoy working at the counseling office, if she breaks further away from her society's standards.

But- well...Malcolm's growth was always going to be that of a bull suddenly finding itself in an antique store. The destruction was likely to be beautiful. Will found himself interested in seeing where this might take them.

He gets to the elevator and- thankfully, those all seem fine. He hits the button for the Deck.

“…Yeah. Maybe she just reminds me of all the ladies that are mean to my mother at galas.”

He pauses.

“I’m pretty sure Arthur doesn’t think I’m an exemplary warden anymore, either. I… had opinions. About what was fair for Walter being fair for Justine.”

"I think...it might be a little early to tell that. We're all still reeling from everything that happened- Arthur doubly so. And I don't know if you've noticed, but his temper can flare. Any thoughts he sent your way might cool as we get back to our routines and rebuild our senses of safety."

And if Arthur didn't tell Malcolm that directly- and he didn't, if Malcolm was 'pretty sure'- then it's too early to call that.

"Do you have opinions on what you want from Justine? For her actions against Walter?"

“I want her Warden to take it seriously and talk to her about it, then speak to us about what he thinks fair, meaningful consequences would be. But he’s in a coma. I don’t want anything from Justine. She thinks she can do whatever she wants to whoever she wants and it’s fine. I warned John about her total sense of impunity. That needs to be addressed. Whether everyone loves her and thinks it’s cute or not,” Malcolm says.

Could I curl up with you for awhile?

[ Will hadn't heard who had made it from the other boat, only that few had. He'd been hoping for Signy, but knew it wasn't likely. His voice is gentle and quiet when he speaks. ]

I'd like that. I have a very comfortable couch if you want to come to Level 3. Or I can go to you?

"I can come to you. I don't mind."

She'll knock on the door a few minutes later in human form, barefoot and wearing a long dress. Hjerte is perched on her shoulder, and when Ulla leans into Will as soon as he opens the door, Hjerte wraps a couple tentacles around Will's neck in a hug of his own.

[After this.]

Hello, Will. I'm contacting you on behalf of Vincent Valentine.

Do you require any assistance cleaning up the counselling offices?

Malcolm listens to the message, then shoves his device in his pocket and runs out of his cabin barefoot and with his shirt sleeves unbuttoned, the pause to put on shoes or tidy himself up deemed a waste of precious time.

"WILL!!" He runs down the hall. He can detect Will's scent, but they live in a room on this hallway and Will comes through here multiple times every day. "WILLLLL!!!" He gets to the stairs. Up or down? Up or down? He looks down, hesitates a moment, then runs up.

He stops at each floor above him, stepping out into the hall to see if it smells particularly of Will, then he ducks back into the stairs and keeps heading up.

On the deck, he finally scents him and follows it, still at a run.

"WILL!!!!!" he calls as he goes. He sees Winston before he sees Will leaning on the rail. "Oh. Winston, thank god. Where's...?" He sees him and bounds over. "Will! Are you okay?"

Winston gives Malcolm a somewhat mournful look before turning to where Will is leaning, face turned upward and staring with naked fascination.

He looks down when he hears yelling, and that one word. Is his name Will? He'd thought...well, it doesn't matter what he thought. He smiles a little, until he realizes the man in front of him is in such distress. His face immediately falls.

"I suppose so, but I...don't remember anything. I'm sorry." He searches Malcolm's face. He wants to stop that pain. "You know me well. Can I ask how?" he asks gently.

He can't make himself look less miserable. He wants to touch him, but doesn't feel like he can, so he lingers slightly further away than he normally would, trying not to allow any tears to actually spill. Jedao said it would wear off. He said it would wear off within the hour. Right? Right?

But Will is looking at him without any recognition, much less the warmth he's used to. But there's something different there as well, and part of him wants to know more about it but....

That question. He can't speak right away. He shifts his weight, just watching his face for a moment.

Malcolm's eyes drop and he looks at the centre of his chest instead of his face.

His mouth feels so dry when he speaks.

"...We're supposed to get married soon," he tells the buttons on Will's shirt.

They're that close? -they were that close. He feels the loss keenly.

Will starts crying, soundlessly. He blinks the tears out, so he can see Malcolm's face. He feels a deep, hollow place in his chest, the very spot Malcolm is staring at. He wants to fix it.

He reaches out and- gently, so this man can pull away if he wants- tips his chin up so they're looking at each other. "Can I kiss you?"

Malcolm’s very damp eyes slowly shift focus to Will’s face as his chin is lifted, blinking surprise at the grief there.

He frowns faintly. He… wants to do that?

“You… don’t know me.” That makes his voice break a little. “Do you think it would help?” he asks with a very guarded hopefulness.

Will gives Malcolm a small smile, even as the tears roll down his cheeks. "I don't know anyone," he admits. "I'd like to know you. Maybe it'll being something back?"

He sounds hopeful, even if it's more for the chance to kiss the man in front of him than anything else.

A couple of tears slide down his own cheeks, but he manages a small, hopeful smile and nods, leaning up to meet the kiss, hesitantly setting a hand on Will's upper arm to steady himself and to make some sort of contact.

Will reaches up again, this time to cup Malcolm's face. He hadn't noticed the ring on his hand- it'd been comfortable and settled there. But he sees it now, realizing it for what it is even if not all the aspects folded into it.

His kiss is soft but not hesitant. It's not quite the same- there's a certain amount of control missing. But that's at least somewhat made up for by his eagerness. Once their lips touch, he presses in and lingers, as if savoring the sensation.

When he pulls back, his eyes are closed. They slowly open and search the face in front of him, now much closer than before. "....Malcolm?" he asks. That sounds right. "Is that your name?"

Malcolm's eyes go wide, his grip tightening on Will's arm.

"Yes! Yes, that's me! Do.... do you remember me?" he asks earnestly. "Do you....... do you remember us?"

Will blinks, then his eyes half-close. "I remember...something. Being warm. Being bathed in sunlight, and..." He hesitantly wraps his arms around Malcolm, leaving his hands on Malcolm's back. "-doing this. You're...like me, somehow? And that's important."

Malcolm is warm, and that feels right, too.

His expression warms faintly at that, though it only lights a corner of an otherwise baleful look. When Will's arms wrap around him like they always do, he slides his own arms around Will, too.

"We are the same," he promises.

He glances down at Winston, then up at Will.

"Do you know that's your dog?"

"Mmmm" and a closed-eye smile is the response to Malcolm hugging him back. His arms squeeze a little tighter, holding onto the only life preserver he's found.

He looks up at the dog. "Oh?" he asks, with hopefulness. "I thought...maybe. He came over to be pet, and has hung aroun-" He cuts himself off, narrowing his eyes at the dog and then asking, "Winston?" The retriever mix wags his tail and spurs Will on. "That's your name, huh? And you're the best, most loyal dog there is, aren't you?"

That gets the wag really going and Winston finally stands up and comes closer, with a small bark of excitement.

Will is still hugging Malcolm tight, and is unlikely to stop before Malcolm does. But he gives Winston a grin. "And I like dogs, huh?"

"You've got about half a dozen at home. Just two here. Winston and Buster. And we have two snakes, too. And a parakeet," Malcolm tells him, watching his face, still clinging tightly.

He looks briefly confused, and probably not for the reason Malcolm would expect. After apparently doing some mental calculations, he looks at Malcolm and smiles. "Here is home, though. Isn't it? I...know there's another place. But..."

But it's not home.

Malcolm is very charmed by that.

"Here is home right now. Because you and me are our 'home'. Forever."

He closes his eyes, letting himself bask in the saying of the word. "Forever."

He can feel memories coming to him, like little wagging dogs. One by one. Most fundamental first. That's Malcolm. And Winston. And his brother and sister. And that he won't ever go back where he came from. The only thing waiting for him there is-

He frowns and his eyes blink back open. That doesn't stop the imagery, changing from dogs to a single giant stag in a wintery forest, stamping its feet and charging whatever comes near it.

He feels a drip on his forehead and reaches up, only to feel a scar with his fingers. He starts searching his face, finding two more. "Why- why did people attack me? I'm-" He cuts off. Maybe he's a bad person. Maybe he doesn't want to know.

Malcolm's expression, starting to brighten, creases in concern when it starts. He recognizes what it is to see a horror movie in your head that you can't stop. Intimately. He sprays his hand on Will's chest.

"You have a unique ability to connect to people. To anyone. To understand them. Some people where you came from... they wanted to use it. So they used you. And you got hurt. But you're not going back there anymore. You're staying with me. I won't let them hurt you again."

He looks up at Will's face, determination in his features, but also a little shame: he hadn't protected Will from Justine's little game.

"You're staying with me now." He takes off his ring and holds it up for Will to look at. "Do you remember this?"

Will's eyes look around, even as they partially squint due to the the oncoming headache. He worries his lip with his teeth at hearing he can connect with people, but- oh yes. He was very useful. Jack's bloodhound. The FBI's mad dog. Takes one to catch one.

He can feel his mind spiraling around various awhile truths, and he almost clutches at his head. But Malcolm's question distracts him from the slide and he looks up with wide, vulnerable eyes that make him look almost a decade younger. They focus on the ring, then on his ring. "Something about broken...ceramics. And the cracks."

He says it uncertainly. It's a bit of hope in this ocean of painful interactions he's suddenly finding himself in.

Malcolm watches his face carefully.

"Do you remember giving it to me?"

He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to summon the memory. He's close, he knows it, but he feels like he's trying to swim through a heavy current. Too slow. And there are too many things trying to pull him in different directions.

"No one's born broken..." is what he murmurs after a moment.

"Someone breaks us," Malcolm whispers. "Let's..." He glances around. "Do you think it would help to go to our cabin?" he asks. "Do you think... seeing your things and.... and your art would help?"

Will sniffs, and the tears that he sheds upon opening his eyes are his own. He knows who broke him now. He knows there are others that made it worse. He's scared to look any further, but it'll probably still come.

But for now, he looks at Malcolm and nods and hugs him tight. "If it's both of ours. I want to be...safe. My head hurts." He breathes out a deep but shaky sigh. "...can you help me there?"

Malcolm nods, stepping out of Will's embrace just enough to take his hand and hold it tight, staying shoulder to shoulder with him as he starts them towards the stairs. He's concerned. He's very concerned. He doubts she thought to test this drug on werewolves. What if it doesn't work like it's supposed to? What if he has holes afterwards, like Malcolm does, except the holes are his time on the Barge. His time with Malcolm. He tries not to catastrophize, but his stomach is churning. He takes a deep breath through his nose and pushes it out through his mouth as they walk. He can't have a panic attack right now; Will needs him.

"I can show you some pictures when we get there. Maybe... maybe they'll help you remember. Maybe they'll trigger your memory of those times."

Will snorts, shakes his head- and immediately regrets doing that. "It's coming back, but it's...a lot. The- the actions I've taken and things I only saw. Feelings I've felt."

He puts his arm around Malcolm's shoulders, leaning fully on him. "You're the only part that isn't...sour in some way. And I had to leave my whole world behind before I met you."

Malcolm manages a weak smile at that. And at Will wrapping an arm around him. He’s a genius even without all his memories. He slides his own arm around Will’s waist. Extra support. For at least one of them.

“We’re all from different world’s here. You and me… we decided not to live in yours or mine. Do… do…” he looks up sidelong at Will, trying to make himself form the prompt, but this is so part of their heart… it takes him a second to make the words come out. “Do you remember where we decided to go?”

He squints a moment, then relaxes a bit. "Our own place. Away from everything...but only if we want that. A ship. We want to travel, and help people. I want to destroy the bad ones."

He's not surprised by that, but it does make him frown again. He knows the last bit, but he doesn't feel it yet.

Malcolm can see that it's more like watching something on TV than something that's happened to him, but it's a start. And if he keeps him talking about his time here, maybe it will distract him from the details of Hannibal flooding back.

"Do you remember the day we met?"

Will's still leaning on him, but this question gets an easy smile. Apparently, distracting him is working well. He doesn't even have to mentally reach for this one.

"Mmmhmm. It was the second day I was here. I was sure people were going to shove me into Counseling right away, so I...I wanted to see what I had to contend with. Didn't expect to find someone who'd see me so well. We talked, for hours. It was an instant connection."

That warms Malcolm’s smile a little as they near their door.

“I didn’t realize you were… attracted to me,” he says. “I was just happy that you seemed like you wanted to be friends. You had to come over here…” He unlocks the door with his free hand and pushes it open. “And… tell me…” He steers Will through the door without letting him go, giving Winston room to get in before kicking it shut. Buster runs over in the meantime, sniffing eagerly at Will. “Do you remember that night?” Malcolm asks hopefully. “It was hands down one of the best nights of my whole life.”

Now that they're not on the stairs, Will's feeling a little steadier. He still leans on Malcolm, though, not feeling at all like letting go.

This doesn't become a problem until they're inside they're cabin, where everything feels and looks and smells right, and Will nearly instinctively crouches down to pet Buster as he wags and ruffs at him. "Hey, Buster. I'm home," he says quietly (but with emphasis) as he rubs the dog's back.

Malcolm's words finally click with him as he remembers everything that was said and done that night, and his face flushes a bright red. No need to wonder if actually remembers. "I- yeah. Pretty sure it was one of mine, too. I was fully expecting you to tell me it wouldn't work for some reason, but I had to say something..."

Malcolm smiles when Will blushes.

"I'm glad you did. My quality of life is vastly improved. Do you want tea? I can make the peach and ginger one?" he offers. "Or peppermint?"

"Peppermint," he replies with confidence. "I'm rather nauseous. I'll...go sit on the couch?" The dogs already seem to be trying to lead him there. He looks a bit torn, though. He doesn't want to leave Malcolm's side. The man's pretty much anchoring him to reality right now.

“I’ll just put the kettle on really fast and I’ll come with you?” Malcolm suggests, hurrying to do it before Will gets too far, then he runs ahead to get the blankets ready, their blanket poised to wrap around their shoulders once they settle in. He snuggles up against Will’s side, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Does this feel familiar?” he asks, once they’re all wrapped up.

Will allows himself to be wrapped up, leaning against Malcolm as soon as he's able. "It does," he murmurs. "It feels right."

The soft flutter of confusion is slowly easing out of his voice, being slowly replaced by a measure of control. He licks his lips as he sits there, pets his dogs and leans against his fiancé, and he lets himself breathe. A stopgap before what comes next.

"There's something...else. A part of my world that I...I don't want to touch it. But, it's-" He shifts his head a little to look Malcolm in the eyes. "It's going to come back anyway, isn't it?"

Malcolm presses his lips together.

He wishes he could say 'no', but...

"Stuff from before the Barge?" Malcolm clarifies. "I.... I've been told it will all come back." He pauses. "Well. That it's all supposed to come back. I'm sorry."

Will nods, looking somewhat resigned. He leans his head against Malcolm's.

"And you love me anyway," he adds, as if daring Malcolm to say otherwise. He's clinging to a world he has the barest details on.

“…Anyway?” Malcolm snuggles closer. “I don’t have any highground on the horrors, Wiil,” he says. “I don’t have any love you, though. All of you. Everything about you.”

That settles him, at least for the moment. He rumbles out a content 'hmmm' and hugs Malcolm tight.

And then he stills, hugs Malcolm more tightly, and then he starts shaking. He finally gave up on Not Looking, so- you donn't have to look alone- it's all- I AM alone!- tumbling out. Like his sanity in a brain fever or his mind spraying into the droplets of blood on the air.

He grips Malcolm tight, groaning at the weight of it all. The 'horrors'- that's not an exaggeration. He remembers the induced seizures, the gutting, the people who died under his watch. He remembers-

"Hannibal." It's the barest whisper.

[ooc: that was I DO LOVE YOU, THOUGH. Fucking predictive text on my phone changing it after I typed it properly.]

Malcolm's brow creases at that whisper.

"...Yeah. The void could have kept him," he concedes. No love lost between him and his ostensible rival, though he doesn't feel in any danger of losing Will to him these days. He presses a kiss to Will's temple, fingers fidgeting with the hem of Will's shirt. "Do you remember your Becoming?" he asks softly. It's one thing he knows is particularly meaningful for Will from that time. The before him time.

[ooc: I figured it was something like that!]

"My..." He heaves a breath, in and out. Because he does, he just has to reach for it. "Blood...and breath..." His voice is shaking. He clears his throat. "They are elements to fuel my radiance."

His shaking slows and he looks up, looks Malcolm in the eyes. "Just as the source of a fire is burning. He...said that to me. And I said it to Francis to entice him. We baited the hook."

“And then killed him,” Malcolm fills in, because he knows this story. “But that stuff… it’s not what makes you radiant.” He takes Will’s hand and lifts it so Will can see the ring on his own finger. “The radiance comes from inside you. Like me. You can tell because it shines through the cracks.” He pauses, holding Will’s gaze for a moment. “We’re the same,” he says soberly.

Looking at Malcolm, the weight seems to be back in Will's eyes, the tiredness- but also that little bit of delight that almost always accompanies talking with Malcolm.

"We are," he says quietly. He raises his other hand and captures Malcolm's between his own. He squeezes it. "But you shine so brilliantly."

He still has tears in his eyes as he leans over to kiss Malcolm, gently. "Sorry I worried you. I've got the most important parts back."

“You didn’t do anything except make me happier than I even thought I could be,” Malcolm tells him. “But I’m… I don’t know if I can… “ He closes his eyes for a second, takes a breath. “She almost took you away from me. Just. Out of pure carelessness and a lack of regard for anyone else’s existence. And she’s an inmate so we’re supposed to just let that stuff go and I don’t know if I can.”

Will's still a little disoriented- that was a lot of emotional scarring to place so nearly back onto him. He feels exhausted, but he can bet Malcolm's feeling that way, too. The possible loss was so, so much.

"You don't have to. You're not her warden. If she'd done this to you-" With Malcolm's memory issues? Will's eyes darken. "-I would've already demoted myself. But it was me. And I'm here, and I'm all right. It's safe- and justified- to let yourself feel anything you need to.

Malcolm presses his lips together for a moment, studying Will’s face again, every angle, every line, every scar.

“We’re supposed to get married soon,” he says softly. He shifts around so he can slide both arms around Will’s neck and press their foreheads together. He breathes his scent deeply for a moment. “Is it stupid after all that that I’d feel better if we picked a date?”

Malcolm mentioned that you were one of the ones who got fucked with.

You were kind when Arthur got fucked with. So... if there's anything I can do to help, please let me know.

Hi, John. Thank you for the kindness.

[ His smile is warm and he looks a little surprised. ]

I'm doing better than you might expect. I've lost memories before, and this was...almost nice, in comparison. But....

How are you doing, John? I know things have been rough lately. You want to come by and chat, have some tea...?

[ He looks a little surprised, but happily so. ]

Sure! Should I- do you like cookies? I have some around, I could bring them for the tea.

I do like cookies. Thank you. That sounds nice and cozy. It's not like the weather is much different, but we've been feeling like being cozy lately.

Any favorites? I have a few kinds.

Hey

Heard a bit about what happened.

You ok?

I'm all right. But she got me with it. I've been through a worse process before, so I'm not too poorly off. Scared Malcolm to hell, though.

She didn't get you, too, right? I know she hit Maggie.

Edited 2024-12-12 00:33 (UTC)

No.

[She wouldn't do that shit, Sweeney's certain. Quickest way to get cut off by your patron.]

Got Iris too, I heard.

But consensually

Or something

Should I check in with Malcolm or will it make it worse?

Malcolm would probably appreciate it.
I know it's worse for him. His dad would pull his victims in by drugging the food of anyone who wandered by.

And he's already been lectured at for having feelings about it.
Hell, I've been lectured at for Malcolm have feelings about it. As if I needed to leash my dog or something.

[ He also has some feelings, apparently. ]

I'm glad she asked Iris, at least. If she'd asked me I probably would've said yes.

I'm sorry that you had to deal with that.

Insult to injury

Was Malcolm also dosed?

[Not that it would likely change the man's feelings, but Sweeney would like to have the facts before broaching the topic.]

Edited (Additional text) 2024-12-12 03:34 (UTC)

No, thankfully. It was just me.

[ Will would be on the verge of being demoted if she'd hit Malcolm with that. The guy already has brain damage and issues with memory loss. ]

[There's a brief pause.]

You want me to do anything about it?

To her, I mean.

[You know...retaliation.]

Avalon finds Will in one of the hallways. They wear the form of a small husky, and they have a bag strapped to their back to hold their orb and their clothes. Their item hangs from a chain around their neck.

They nose Will, then reach out telepathically. He feels accessible, at least at first glance. ::Do you need help staying warm? I can stay in this form if you would rather not touch me as a person.::

Edited 2024-12-27 05:04 (UTC)

"Well hello, there," Will says warmly, even before Avalon reaches out to him. He pets their head and scritches lightly between the ears, not pausing when he hears their mental voice. He's starting to get used to it, and it certainly doesn't hurt that they're in his favorite form.

"I could always use a little help, it seems," he says aloud, mostly wondering if Avalon could use the assistance themself. "You just be in whatever form is comfortable for you."

They close their eyes when he scratches behind their ears, leaning into the touch. ::That feels nice.:: They have no idea how else to describe it, but it feels nice.

Since Will can hear them, they see no reason to shift back and then have to put their clothes on in front of him. ::I guess Malcolm could help you out easily enough. I have someone who is comfortable touching me more often, but this form is useful for other people.::

Edited 2024-12-31 18:12 (UTC)

"Yeah, I've been making the rounds as a wolf, myself. I used to be one of those people who was far too careful of who I got close to. So I feel for those dealing with that during this flood."

He pets them lazily, with experienced fingers. He knows firsthand now, how nice it is. "Although the more paranoid probably won't take us up on our animal forms. Too worried about what the wardens might be trying this time, or trying to avoid the 'brainwashing.'"

He's been hearing more about Walter's 'ideas' lately.

::My inmate this month prefers me as an animal, at least for this.:: They might want to spend more time as an animal after this. ::She thinks graduation is possible for others, but not for her.::

Wu Xin had seemed like someone who would trust the wardens, but they only met Walter once. ::Is Walter someone who would worry about brainwashing?::

After the party winds down and, last to leave, they're walking out of the Enclosure, Malcolm takes Will's hand. He feels like he's walking on a cloud, but he's still excited to surprise Will with the little project he put together this morning.

When they reach their floor, Malcolm grins at him and his grip on Will's hand tightens and he breaks into a run, tugging him along until they reach their door.

Taped to the door at about eye level is a handwritten sign that says Honeymoon Suite.

Malcolm grins at him. "This must be our room for tonight. Would you care to do the honours?" he asks, gesturing to the door.

Will raises his eyebrow as Malcolm starts running. But there's been a smile on his face pretty much the whole day and it's certainly not disappearing now. He speeds up and marvels at how fun it feels to run, even on two legs. Especially when they're rushing towards their own space.

It's not until they reach the door and he sees the sign that he realizes what's going on. He breaks into a joyous laugh and a small, muttered, "When did you find time?" The 'honours,' though- he nods. And in one motion, he'll move to try to sweep Malcolm off his feet and into Will's arms in a princess carry. It'd be a gamble beforehand, but after his turning? It shouldn't be a problem.

And okay, this is Malcolm's threshold already, but he's still going to be carried across it. Will reaches for the door handle once Malcolm's sufficiently situated.

Malcolm honestly wasn’t expecting Will to pick him up, but he was delighted by it and hooked an arm across Will’s shoulders to make it easier.

“When I sent you ahead to check everything was set up okay,” he murmurs into Will’s ear. “I had everything ready. Just had to put it out.”

And when they get inside, Will will see what ‘everything’ means: there are roses on the kitchen island, next to a sweating ice bucket with a champagne bottle sticking out of it and a platter of fruit beside it, there are rose petals scattered across the floor and on the bedspread.

“I asked Edwin to keep the pets until tomorrow afternoon,” he says, grinning against his jaw before placing a kiss there.

It really is funny what things they'd rather do differently than most, and which 'normal' things really struck their hearts.

This is definitely the second, and Will's smile is bright as he leans down for a kiss, even while he's still carrying Malcolm. He feels like he's overflowing with joy. Maybe that's also Malcolm's feelings, but they're one and the same much of the time now.

"Didn't want them to see anything too scandalous, I see. And managed this all behind my back. My husband is so clever." Will kisses Malcolm again, biting his lip as he pulls back.

Malcolm looks absolutely giddy in the wake of that heat and that compliment.

“I have to be, or I’d never be able to surprise my husband,” he replies, reaching up with his free hand to start unknotting Will’s tie as he tilts his head to press kisses along Will’s jaw. “Open the champagne,” he murmurs next to his ear. “I want to celebrate the best day of my life.”

Good day, Warden Graham.

May I speak to you about a request concerning your inmate?

[ Now this is unexpected. ]

Yes, of course. What's going on?

Nothing to be alarmed about.

Wu Xin, as you are no doubt aware, has a particular diet that requires him to abstain from any animal-based foods.

We were discussing the nature of end-of-year gifts and I wish to request an item on his behalf. Warden Tendi and I are working on a replicator for Maintenance, but I would request a small, food-based one from you to be placed in Wu Xin’s possession.

Is this doable?

Edited 2025-01-21 18:58 (UTC)

That's...great. What a fantastic idea.

I can put in a request for it. I've been trying to think of luxuries he'd enjoy- and accept. that's one I'm sure he'll appreciate.

Would you like to leave a note with it? Tell him it's from you?

I am glad you believe so. Yes, please.

No - only if he asks, and then you may tell him.

[Malcolm sees this message and before responding or doing anything else, calls Will, speaking into his communicator with increasing urgency.]

Will? Will? Will are you there? Please tell me you're not hanging on a hook somewhere. Will? WILL?

[ The look he gives his communicator is fond. ]

I'm okay, Malcolm. I'm just upstairs. Haven't felt up to heading out yet.

Oh thank god. Okay. Good. Um. I'm going to go see if I can help. You know. Get people off hooks, apparently.

[ He frowns. It's more at himself than anything. His head hurts and it feels like he's learning his coping strategies all over again.

Both lives are yelling at him that he should be out there, stopping this. ]

You want help for your help? This is our field.

[Malcolm's brow creases with concern.]

Only if you're up to it. Don't rush yourself back into the field, Will. There's nobody here who thinks your value is tied to whether you catch the latest killer.

[ He takes that in and then nods. ]

Right...right. I'll... I'll just see you out.

[ He's already on the way as he says that. He'll meet Malcolm at the door and pull him into a hug. ]

Thanks. Be careful, if you can?

[Malcolm tucks his face against Will's neck, smiling against his skin and clinging to him tightly.]

I will be careful and I'll check in and then I'll come home and make you dinner and tell you all about it.

[ Will hugs him back tightly. He is newly touch-starved, and Malcolm is his nourishment. He'll step back only after Malcolm starts to pull apart.

Malcolm's words are a balm. Will gives him a bashful grin. ]

Sounds perfect. [ He smooths his hands over Malcolm's lapels, as if that does something. ] Go get 'em, tiger.

[It does something. It charms him immensely. It makes him feel connected to Will.

He gives his husband a tender kiss.]

I'll miss you until I get back.

Hello, Will. Are you feeling better after the breach? Do you want to come over to my cabin for awhile?

Hello, Ulla. I do seem to have gotten it out of my system. More importantly...it seems like other people might've finally gotten it out of their systems.

I'm free now. Want me to come now or wait a few minutes?

Now is good. I'll see you in a few minutes.

[ He arrived quickly, within a couple minutes. He'd only been doing some light reading, and he'd honestly rather be spending some time with his sister.

He knocks on her door and waits a moment before trying the knob. If she's still in the water, he doesn't want her to feel like she needs to get out. ]

Ulla's been in human form this whole month because she expected trouble after Cat King's fights right after they were paired. She wanted to be mobile. So the water in the cabin is all the way lowered, and Will isn't waiting long before she opens the door, pulling him into a hug.

"Do you want to curl up together in the grotto, or go sit in the chairs on the balcony?"

He hugs her back, lingering.
He's been lingering a little longer ever since the breach.

"Let's go to the grotto," he replies after a moment of thought. "Curling up sounds rather decadent right now."

He gives her a tired smile. "I'll follow you down?"

Ulla has a whole nest of pillows and blankets set up and waiting, with Hjerte already there. He would have come out to join them if Will chose differently. She sprawls on her side next to Hjerte and beckons welcomingly to Will. "I'm always happy to curl up with you, you know. It feels good. Like home."

It's a standing invitation. And she'd welcome the comfort right now too. As soon as Will joins her she'll curl into his side, resting her head on his shoulder and draping an arm across his waist. Hjerte will settle in the curve of Ulla's waist and drape a couple tentacles over Will too.

"Feels nothing like my original home, which is also good." Molly would curl up with him sometimes, but it always felt forced. Like he was taking on the persona of all those sappy Lifetime movies they'd watched together.

This is different. This recalls him and Ulla in the forest, curled up with each other for warmth. Never being alone. His arm goes around her shoulder and his other arm is relaxed (but palm up) so Hjerte can get a couple tentacles on him. He hasn't grabbed a blanket yet, but even just sprawled out on all these pillows, this feels decadent.

He lets out a pleased 'mmm' and lightly leans his head towards hers. "How are you holding up, Ulla? Truly." Inmates are often capable of awful things, but the Cat King just won the prize for Most Horrific Murder on Board in Current Memory. Being in charge of that? Well, it makes him glad for Wu Xin.

Ulla hums her acknowledgement. "It's the only thing I miss about my old home." She knows about wanting to leave that behind.

"I'm alright," she assures him softly, with a sigh. "Now, anyway. Hanna graduated afterwards, which helps. At least he gained something good out of the wreckage. The worst of it was... how guilty I felt knowing the pair of them had a fight before the breach. Realizing I chose the wrong restrictions in response."

She hesitates, then adds, "That, and it was fire. I've burned three times now. Once in my world, nearly to death. I was boiled alive once here; I've died a few times on the Barge, but that was the worst of them. And I was tortured with fire in someone's nightmare mindscape. It's the only injury that really shocks or scares me."

He hugs her closely, hearing about the fire. "And of course he chose it," Will murmurs, a coldness in his tone. It's one that surprises even him, and he makes sure he breathes before softening his words.

"I'm sorry, Ulla. What an absolute worst-case scenario. I don't blame you for feeling guilty, but you couldn't have known just how...creative you temp inmate was. Don't beat yourself up too hard about it."

"It was... awful. Terrible for Hanna. Taylor was furious and hurting, of course."

She pauses to consider her words. "But at the same time... for me, this wasn't as bad as some of the times when I was monitoring the unpaired inmates. This was horrible in the moment, but by the next day I was myself again. It didn't eat away at me and leave me exhausted, or at a breaking point. I didn't have to deal with an unpaired inmate killing my inmate, or one unpaired inmate executing a revenge plot against another. I wasn't responsible for every side of a feud, trying to manage everyone's safety and anger at once. That left me so drained that it sent me off the Barge crying to Warren."

There's a slight shake of her head against his shoulder. "It's the reason I moved to the infirmary. I couldn't take it anymore. I was so worn out that I'm not sure whether I would still be on the Barge at all if I'd tried to keep doing that job."

It sounds truly exhausting, as well as terrible and infuriating. Still, Will suspects there's something else going on. He nods and nuzzles his head against hers a bit, softly- old habit from being a wolf with her. It's meant as a comfort.

"I'm glad you switched, truly. And I'm glad you took a break when you needed to. You didn't let the job break you. I've had a...bad history with that in the past." And yet, he's smiling a little fondly, more because thinking about his time with the FBI only highlights how far he's come here.

"I did...want to ask you something. It's not entirely off topic, but it'll probably seem like it. Have you ever heard of Autism before? It's a mental condition. Malcolm's autistic, actually."

Ulla sighs appreciatively as he nuzzles her tightening her arm around him in an affectionate squeeze.

But there's a soft sound of surprise at the seeming subject change.

"Yes. I've been reading a lot of neurology and psychology and psychiatry books in the past few months, because I wanted to start thinking about spells that might serve in place of different medications. In case Malcolm is ever stranded without his again." It just hasn't occurred to her to apply any of that to herself.

"Oh," he says. Pleasant surprise makes way for a touched smile. "That's so thoughtful of you. Although with those medicines, it's probably mostly dealing with his cPTSD and how that affects so many of his systems."

He can feel himself wanting to go into it. He tends to wander when the topic is Malcolm. So he tries to come back around.

"I mostly asked because I suspect you might also be autistic. It would explain why you felt more overwhelmed in a situation with more people, not all of them people you knew. Not only that, but you were also managing expectations. I'm sort of to the side of autism, but- that sounds like it'd send me into overwhelm, too."

He's used to people not taking the armchair diagnosis well, but Ulla doesn't have any of the context or societal history of what people thought they new about the condition. "It would also explain why you and me and Malcolm got along so well, so quickly...breach aside. What do you think?"

Ulla will come back around to the topic of the research she started for Malcolm, but she's thoroughly derailed by Will's diagnosis.

"You mean it's not just one more way I'm strange and will never fit with anyone?" Hold on a moment while she recalibrates everything. "Not that my life is like that now, but it used to be. The old instincts are still there. They'll always be there."

Under the surface, even if they fade to whispers rather than shouts as they're proven wrong time and time again.

"Warren once had to tell me it's normal that I don't feel attracted to people unless I love them. That some people are just made like that, it wasn't only me. I'd always thought it was only one more thing wrong with me."

[He can't even wait until he sees Will at home or back at the office. He goes straight back to their cabin after training and calls him.]

Will! Guess what? Lark is going to train me to be super good at sniffing so I have a wolf thing I can do that doesn't involve killing stuff with my teeth. He was just teaching me!

[ Will's already smiling when his camera turns on. He's in the office- technically- but he's putting out food in the cat room, which is part of his heading out routine. ]

Of course. What a perfect idea. How's he starting you out on it? Sniffing a bunch of different smells, I'd...guess?

[Malcolm laughs.]

Yes! But I had to find him first!

[ Will grins, looking like he's holding in a laugh himself. ]

Did he hide all over the Barge? Sheesh. I'll have to practice that with you, too- although it might get pretty boring. We know each other's scents pretty well. I could have you track Buster?

[ At that, he's leaving the cat room, and Buster barks at him with excitement. He heard his name! ]

Yeah, you'd like to play a game with us, wouldn't you?

Just around the Enclosure. I'd love it if you test me sometimes! You can make it harder, since we know each other's scent so well, by hiding all over the Barge. [He grins.] Want me to come find you right now?

[ He laughs again and looks around the office. ]

You can see where I am! But- hmmm.

[ He considers it and then smirks. ]

Give me ten minutes to leave the dogs at the kennels with B, and then five to hide? We'll play some good old hide n' seek.

[He looks delighted.]

All right. Fifteen minutes and I'm coming!

[And he waits exactly fifteen minutes before heading to the counselling office - Will's last known location.]

It's not hard to catch the scent of Will in the counseling offices. At the moment, there's a stronger scent around the main waiting area and near the cat room.

Not nearly as strong is the trail leading out into the hall, dispersing and mingling with other people as it is. But it does lead down the hall...and to the elevators.

Malcolm follows it, moving almost cautiously around the office, the cat room, into the hall.... but he catches it leading in the direction of the elevator and jogs down the hall. Still scenting it when he gets there, he steps inside. It's strong in the little box, but which button did he push? He crouches down and examines the button, integrating a little good old fashioned Earth forensics in noting which button seems to most recently have finger oils on it. If he gets to that floor and he doesn't catch the scent, he'll get back in and try another button that looks recently pushed.

There's actually two buttons that have the telltale little smudges- the one for the main deck, and the one for Level 6. They both smell like Will, although everything in the elevator does.

Edited 2025-03-02 17:47 (UTC)

He picks 6 first. The upper deck seems too wide open. Will is more wily than that.

He steps out of the elevator and inhales deeply.

It's a good guess- which is why it's not what Will picked. His scent trails out of the elevator for about ten feet and then fades.

The scent fades and Malcolm realizes Will doubled back. That means the deck. He starts to walk back to the elevator then pauses and peels off for the stairs, heading up to the deck that way and creeping out onto the deck, sniffing at the air.

And as soon as Malcolm steps onto the Deck, the trail's much harder to follow. It's stronger in some places and then fades. It's not like there's wind here, but there are other people passing through. Considering how often it starts suddenly smelling like someone else, it seems that Will might've intended that to help.

But if Malcolm keeps following the broken-up scent trail, he'll eventually reach the stairs leading to the upper deck.

Malcolm looks up, then moves carefully and quietly up the stairs, inhaling for the scent before peeking over the top of the stairs.

He's not immediately obvious. His scent gets stronger, though- he's more recently been here. Maybe he even watched in the spot next to the stairs for a minute before heading down the right side of the Upper Deck.

It's not hard to follow his trail from here. He's tried to hide it by doubling back a couple times, but it leads into the Lounge.

It's stronger in some places and weaker in others... Will's so clever. He tries not to be distracted by that.

He moves carefully across the deck, following the trail, and finds his way into the Lounge.

He wasn't really visible from the few windows outside the Lounge. However, as soon as Malcolm walks in, he'll see Will leaning against the bar and facing the door. He's a little sweaty- he clearly just got here.

Will's grin is a little more wolf -like than usual, as he pushes off the bar. "Knew I made it too easy for you."

Malcolm grins at him.

"Maybe you wanted me to catch you," he teases as he walks over. When he reaches him, he doesn't hesitate in throwing his arms around his husband and giving him an enthusiastic kiss.

Will lets out a small laugh of joy as Malcolm approaches him. They kiss, and Will's arms automatically go around Malcolm's waist.

"Maybe I did," he replies as they finally separate. "Because I knew it would lead to this. And maybe I'd like to catch you sometime, myself. But that's...more recreational." He leans in close, but doesn't go for another kiss (not yet). "Would you like something to drink before we head home?"

“I could go for a whiskey,” he admits. “Even though it involves at least one of us letting go…”

Hello, my name is Anduin Wrynn. We haven't spoken before, but I'd like to talk to you about the idea of helping people prepare for life post-graduation.

I saw you offered a sign-up sheet at the counselling office. Have you had much interest? I wondered if something more formal might help, for people who are uncertain where their interests or skills may be of use.

Good to meet you, Anduin. It's a relief to hear someone's interested in this. I've had a few people sign up to offer instruction, but we've also only had a few people show any interest.

That's not much of a surprise, considering the recent Breach and flood were rough on a lot of people. There's a lot of focusing on their current situation, rather than looking to the future. It's the sort of thing that runs in cycles around here.

I set up what I did rather informally, because I've seen at least a couple of attempts to formalize support systems fall apart. But I'm not against giving it a try. Are you thinking of something less like a therapist and more like an advisor role?

I thought perhaps, a day where people might try jobs. Someone who currently works in the kitchen letting new people try cooking, someone versed in medicine talking about how training works in their world and letting people try things (safely!). We'd need some volunteers to help us, but I'd like to think I'm reasonably persuasive.

[Will knew what Malcolm had gone to the library for. He was there when Malcolm took the call from Arthur. It's not even an hour later when Malcolm quietly lets himself into their cabin, but the emotions coming from him aren't the defeat or self-reproach that the two blooming black eyes he's sporting might suggest he should expect. There's a sort of peace in him now.]

Will? I'm back.

[He glances around the open space as he toes off his shoes into the boot tray by the door. He still wants his hugs. And maybe the bag of frozen peas. In that order.]

[ Malcolm is easier to read than most, to the point that Will doesn't even have to see him first anymore. Their knowledge of each other, Will's heightened senses, and the heart on Malcolm's sleeve...it all makes inhabiting his husband's emotions easier.

So while at first, Will can tell there's a shift and a calm? He doesn't know how it went until he sees those black eyes. His upper lip curls up a little, but he still manages a sad smile as he approaches. ]

Welcome back. Come here.

[ Hugs first-- and last. Peas in the middle, after some comfort. Will wraps his arms around his husband and rubs his back, careful to avoid touching the bruises on Malcolm's face. When he speaks, it's into Malcolm's hair. ]

You seem...relieved.

[He all but melts into that embrace, smiling against Will’s shoulder at the remark. This is honestly the best. Why does he leave their cabin? Oh, right. Helping people. They have family now. Yoga. Still. This is the coziest and the warmest right here.]

I realized I’ve been banging my face against a wall and… it’s never going to help. People always… dismiss my perspective because of losing control of my emotions. I kind of… get the blame for escalating discussions into arguments because I fail to control it. But… I didn’t lose it today. And Arthur said I’m an idiot and I’m selfish and I harm people all the time because I don’t have any empathy and I… know he’s wrong. I just know that and it’s like that time with Justine. I just. I don’t care because he’s wrong and he doesn’t want to know the truth.

[ Will's fingers stop rubbing Malcolm's back and dig in a bit, at hearing that summary. But- it's a good thing, ultimately. Malcolm came out of it so much more okay than when he had strife with Neal, over a year ago. ]

You know...you're starting to sound like someone who trusts his own brain a little. Someone who doesn't accept everyone else's total authority over him.

[His smile broadens a little, though the lower part of his cheek is still pressed to Will’s shoulder and he will feel it more than see it.]

I’ve been exposed to better metrics of what’s reasonable and what’s real and what’s worthwhile since I met my husband.

Oh, yeah? He must be a great guy.

[ Will pulls back, a smirk on his face. He's not going to ask more questions or to try and 'fix' the situation, like he has in the past. The details don't matter. This is the fuel that Malcolm needs for his own Becoming. If it ends up being destructive, at least it will be outwardly so.

He squeezes Malcolm's arm lightly, then brushes past him to head to the fridge. ]

Come on, let's get a cold pack on that. Then we can head to the couch, get the blankets and the dogs and the Twizzlers. The whole shebang.

[Malcolm grins.]

I feel like I'm being rewarded for something. [Joking.] Can we have that hibiscus tea too? [He follows to the kitchen, where the ice pack is anyway.] I like the smell.

You can.

[ Will takes the bag of peas out of the freezer and wraps it loosely in a towel. Then he hands it over to Malcolm, and heads to the stove to start the water boiling. ]

And maybe you're rewarding yourself a little. I told you the steps you needed to take for yourself were ones that only you were capable of making. If you look back today, you'll see that you've walked a very long way. Today's another milestone.

[Malcolm smiles lopsidedly and takes the ice pack, pressing it to his face. He can’t actually see Will anymore, but happily he can still hear and smell him as he moves around.]

You are a great guy.

[He thinks about it, the picture Will has painted.]

…I can… definitely see how I feel differently about some things. And… I think it’s easier to take being misunderstood and rejected for that when… I know I have people in my life who do understand me and who won’t ever reject me. Having a solid rock foundation to stand on makes it way easier; I’m not going to lie.

[He falls thoughtfully silent for a second.]

Arthur says I’m selfish because when I ran into Sokie in a common area or answered an open post on the network, I talked to her without understanding everything she was going through. But. Isn’t that how everyone talks to anyone they’re just getting to know?

[It’s not the desperate plea for direction he might normally put out there after a situation like this; it’s a musing over the one thing he really didn’t understand. Something to analyze for the future, not ruminate on from the past.]

[ And Will can catch that. Just like Will can feel the truth of him- him- being a 'solid rock foundation.' It makes his heart feel like it's glowing. He licks his lips and leans against the counter next to the stove to think the question over. ]

It is how most people do it. However, most people- as a rule- don't have as much difficulty with social cues. It's possible that she said or did something that most people would interpret as 'leave me alone' or 'I'm too messed up for this' and that you interpreted as 'try again later.' And that's always going to be something of a stumbling block, I think. Not much to do about that, other than try to right yourself and apologize.

There's also...I suspect you hyper-fixate on someone who you'd like to be a friend, and then they keep coming up in your mind and you interact with them every time you see them in any context. It's happened a few times, and I think this was one of them. Now I like that amount of attention, but it's too much for most. It comes across as desperate. That aspect of it you can probably mitigate, in the future.

Yeah, I... think I can.

[He maybe got carried away. He has to be cool about stuff like that. That's all.]

She did tell me 'not yet'. But. Maybe she was just being polite. [He can concede that.] Anyway, I can't apologize to her. I'm not allowed to talk to her. But I asked John to convey my apology last week and I told Arthur I'm sorry for hurting her today, because he says I did, but I don't know if he'll pass it on.

[He takes the ice pack down from his face.]

How bad does it look? I haven't seen it, but it's throbbing. [And the blood on his cuff and around his fingernails on his right hand say he had a nose bleed he had to stem with his hand.]

[ Will peers, and then nods. ]

It looks like it's going to turn that ugly green color the bad ones do, before turning the rest of the bruise palette. Doesn't look like your nose is broken, though...miraculously. Arthur can sure throw a punch.

[ He turns the sink on, and makes sure it reaches a comfortable temperature before gently pulling Malcolm's hand under the water. He rubs some soap over the fingernails before washing them off. ]

Perhaps if it happens again...someone telling you to back off- you keep your distance and let them approach you the next time? That way they'll know that you'll give them the space they need.

You've made enough friends here that you should know- it's not a fluke. You really and truly do connect strongly with some of the people here. You don't have to hold out for others, in hopes they'll tolerate you later. You're worth more than that, sweetheart.

[He considers that while Will carefully scrubs at the crusted blood on his hand, then slowly nods acceptance.]

And I don’t really… need more than I have now. I think it’s like… you know when someone has lived through deprivation and then, for the rest of their lives they hoard food and overeat, even though, by logical metrics, they have plenty and access to it whenever they want. They just have… a particular anxiety around that… trauma. And someone that doesn’t understand what they’ve survived - not just know, but understand - they can mistake it for selfishness. And… maybe it is, objectively; keeping all that food for themselves. But… it’s not about self-aggrandizement for them. It feels like it’s about survival. The lizard brain doing what the lizard brain does. My lizard brain pushes me to… to collect connection, because I’ve existed in deprivation of it and humans require community of some sort to survive. But there are interconnected layers of trauma in there, competing for resources…

[His voice trails off and he looks at Will, then he looks into the sink, watching blood swirl down the drain.]

He said I don’t see people as people, that I don’t engage with them emotionally and everything I say dehumanizes them and I shouldn’t be a counsellor and I don’t deserve to be a warden. [He huffs a faint laugh.] Possibly the world’s fastest slide from exemplary warden to not being worthy of being a warden at all. [He looks at Will again.] That’s when the switch flipped in me. That’s when I actually did disengage emotionally. It happened like he flipped a switch inside me.

[ Will nods through the explanation Malcolm is giving himself, how Malcolm's lizard brain has taught itself to work, in order to feel like a human being in a society he's been taught to need. It's a start.

He looks up when he feels Malcolm's eyes on him, and continues to watch him for the rest of it. ]

And I kept trying so hard to help people and then was told that I was manipulating them gleefully. I gave my life to hunting down murderers but people still treated me with disdain. It wasn't until I stopped and decided to use them for my own gains, that they suddenly thought I was the nicest guy. Here to help.

[ That's not fair. He shouldn't compare people where he's from to those here. They're not the same- or maybe they are but the ratio of worthwhile people to the others is higher. It just hit so close to home, that feeling. ]

You hit your limit. You are defining the shape of yourself by testing these boundaries. And perhaps that'll even help with what Arthur was complaining about...because you get so invested with most people who'll interact with you. For those less invested, it can start to seem like pressure for them to 'perform up to your expectations.' It's like...blowing a measurement device so out of range that it reads as zero. Less investment will mean they can see the feelings that are there and not feel overwhelmed by them.

[ Getting those fingers as clean as they're going to be, he brings them up to his lips and kisses them gently, before starting to dry them with a towel.]

But that part doesn't really matter, because the switch flipped. You don't have to understand it, you just have to know who you are and what you'll take.

[He smiles, charmed, by the kiss to his fingers.

Who you are and what you’ll take.]

I think… I’ve never actually known. It’s weird, right? I’m thirty-three years old… thirty-four? Do birthdays count here? And all I’ve ever been able to identify is one thing I’m not.

[He looks up to meet Will’s eyes again.]

He didn’t hit me because I insulted him. Well. No, I mean, apparently he finds everything I say somehow insulting. But. He wasn’t listening. He spent twenty minutes telling me how it should be clear to me that he intended to listen to me because he called the meeting and that’s what that means to anyone with a brain… and then he didn’t. Listen. So finally I asked why he came. Was it only because John asked him to? That’s when he let fly. He called me an idiot and he called me selfish and he called me a bad counsellor and a worse warden… or maybe the other way around and he thought that was fine. A reasonable and fair way to make his point. Which was… that I fail at being a human being, I guess. But ask why he was having a meeting he clearly didn’t want to have: that’s crossing a line. I’m a little bit sad because I knew he didn’t like me, but I used to respect him. But… I’m also… relieved. Like you observed. I’m relieved that it’s over and I don’t have to worry about it or invest in it or… care about it. Is… you said I was testing the boundaries of what I can take. That’s how you described the work we did in the Enclosure. Is… did I make progress on Becoming?

Edited 2025-03-17 19:46 (UTC)

[ Will retreats into his mind for a few moments as Malcolm recounts the experience, face blank and eyes focused strongly on nothing in the middle distance. But then he blinks and he's looking into Malcolm's eyes again.

At the question, he breaks into a small but extremely pleased smile. ]

What do you think? It's yours, after all.

[Malcolm considers that.]

Do you think I can learn to tell when it should be over and make it over before it... starts?

[ Will considers his response. The kettle interrupts him and he heads to turn the stove off, and set up the tea. ]

I don't think there are rules that you don't define yourself. I can only guide you on the path, you have to take the steps.

But trust me when I say it's already started. At some point- and maybe more than once- there will be a significant leap you have to make. You will find yourself prepared to make it. You're doing that right now, preparing. Building your faith in yourself. Shedding your shame. That's you.

[ He looks back up towards Malcolm. The smile is no longer on his lips, but still in his eyes. ]

...You're still going to like me when the shame layer comes off like a snake's skin, right?

[He asks it like it's a joke but there's a nervousness behind it. If he gets rid of too much, changes too much, will Will still want what's left?]

[ Will grins brightly. It turns into a smirk as he speaks. ]

I will. I could never dislike a form that you choose, something that makes you happy.

Besides, what do Sin and Star look like after they shed their skin?

The same. [Conceded.] But... their skin isn't accidentally a disguise. [He reaches out for Will, for whatever he can grasp at with his fingertips: the edge of Will's shirt, the pocket of his pants.] Though... you do already see through all disguises.

[ Will sets the teapot down to steep, which happily leaves him open to put his hand up to cup Malcolm's chin as he looks at him. ]

I do. You'll only be revealing more of what I already see.

[ His voice takes on a slightly amused tone. ]

Might wanna look more closely at our snakes, though. They shed when they're getting bigger, right? And I think they're always more vibrant when they're done.

[Malcolm smiles.]

Well, okay they're bigger. And shinier. They didn't mess up that skin with dust and scratches yet. ...Do you think if the shame layer falls off... some of the shallower scars will go with it? Not the ones that made me. Just some of the ones I got along the way since then.

I do think that. I think you'll shed scars you didn't even know you had, ones you're only able to recognize as they fall away from you.

[ He steps forward and gives Malcolm a gentle kiss. After fixing his eyes with Malcolm's (rather bloodshot, but still beautiful) ones, he moves back to the tea. ]

Put that pack back on your eyes, sweetheart. You're turning even more colors now. I'll guide you to the couch after I get the tea in the living room.

[Malcolm smiles in the wake of the kiss, and at the instructions, he brings the ice pack to his eyes again. The cool lessens the throbbing in the bridge of his nose and he breathes out in relief.]

Maybe you can read to me?

[Since it will be kind of hard for him to watch TV like this. Or read a book himself.]

Once we get settled over there.

I'd love to.

[ After about half a minute of moving everything into the living room, he's at Malcolm's side again. After placing a kiss to the back of Malcolm's head, he considers a moment and hefts Malcolm up into a bridal carry, a small smile on his face. ]

I've got you, you just keep that pack on. What should I read? I've just got some entomology studies, at the moment.

[It surprises him, but pleasantly, when Will picks him up and he steadies himself with his near arm looped around Will's neck.]

Oh? Are they about the role of insects in decomposition? [Asked with interest.]

[ Will chuckles. ]

You got me. Found it in the library, and it seems to be from a few years ahead of us. The section I'm reading now is detailing how a certain type of silverfish seems incentivized towards a corpse in the very early stages of decomposition, when there's usually only blowflies. They tend to throw off time-of-death estimates, because they go to town on the clothes. Lazy forensic specialists, beware.

[ He gently sets Malcolm down on the couch. Buster has been following them and jumps up on the same time, near immediately trying to get in Malcolm's lap. Will drapes the blanket over and around Malcolm, and the dog wiggles and runs out from under it with a small yap. ]

That's wild! Does it happen in a particular climate or can it happen anywhere?

[Will sets him down and Buster jumps up only to be indignant in being thwarted by the blanket and Malcolm laughs.]

Was that Buster? [Didn't feel like Winston.] Where did he go?

[ Will finally lets himself laugh, too. Meanwhile Buster does a circle and plops down next to a pillow. He looks for all the world like he's pouting. ]

It was Buster. I like to keep him on his toes sometimes. Otherwise, he'll start thinking he owns the place. He is...currently sulking on the floor, but I'm sure he'll come up again soon.

[ Will grabs the book he'd been reading and sits next to Malcolm, close enough to already be leaning on each other. ]

And I think that particular subspecies appear in high humidity areas- average seventy percent or more, but I'll have to check. The tea tray's on the coffee table, by the way.

[ Even if he's sure Malcolm can already smell it. He'll let Malcolm get his own tea, at least. ]

I love that. [The bug facts.] Can they calculate how much it throws time of death estimates off by?

[He leans forward and carefully finds his mug by feel with his free hand, the other hand still holding the ice pack on his face. He curls against Will's side once he has it in his hand.]

Is it a significant amount?

[ There's a short pause as Will opens the book and looks through a couple pages. ]

Anywhere from 12 hours to five days. Because the clothes are eaten in the earliest stages of decomposition, and silverfish larvae with adult silverfish are indicative of the active decay stage, it can be anywhere from 4 days to 15.

[ He continues, almost smoothly transitioning into reading aloud from that point in the book. He pauses at one point to note that this type of silverfish- Ctenolepisma devriesiana- otherwise acts the same as the subspecies he's familiar with, the common paper silverfish. ]

It just seems to have evolved to 'get the jump' on the other carrion insects. I'd bet that they're attracted to something the blow flies give off, personally.

But they don't feed on the body or the blow flies?

They don't feed on the body all that much, but they do lay eggs on it. They're not expecting people to come by and remove the clothes, after all. They also--

[ He flips back a few pages. ]

They tend to be an indicator to other carrion insects that the buffet's ready, too. So things like dung beetles and moths might arrive earlier as well, which would muddy the data even further. Give the body the look of being in early active decay, even if it's still in the process of bloating.

Wow! That could mess up the investigation, messing with the timing of alibis… unless the victim is wearing a smart watch. Those things are the best thing to happen to murder investigations. They tell you the exact time the victim’s heart stopped beating.

After Varker's ambush attack, Malcolm fled to the cabin he once again shares with Will and only Will (with visits from Walter, though he's curious if Walter will stop coming for a bit in the wake of the flood).

Completely uncharacteristically, he doesn't even look around to see if Will is home when he bursts through the door. He slams it shut, throws every deadbolt and the chain, not mindful at all of the blood he smears on them or the door or drips on the floor as he then hurries into the bathroom.

Once he has his deeply torn forearm and opposite hand in the sink to inspect, he can actually wash some of the blood off and assess the wounds. Not good seems like it would be an obvious conclusion, but he is literally looking for something to bandage them with while trying only somewhat successfully to keep his oozing wounds over the sink.

At first, it seems like Will isn't there. He seems to just appear in an instant, standing behind Malcolm.

"Stop." His voice brooks no argument. Assuming he's listened to, he'll be carefully wrapping one of their fluffy, superabsorbent cotton towels around the deeper wound.

His face is blank, focused on his task. He's putting pressure on it, and he knows it probably hurts. Hopefully not enough for Malcolm to pass out. "What happened?"

Malcolm looks up and finds Will's face in the mirror when he speaks, his attention taken from his vague mission to Stop Bleeding.

"You're home!" He sounds happy about it.

The pressure does hurt, but not an unbearable amount for a man with as high of a pain threshold as he has. He is starting to get a little lightheaded. He's not super concerned yet.

At Will's question, he looks down at his arm and hand. Will is holding a towel on his right arm, on where that jaw had clamped down and locked. He tilts his head slightly.

"A giant lizard man tackled me down the stairs and tried to eat me." He frowns faintly. "I didn't know we had one of those."

Will's eyes narrow as he sorts through his memory. "I talked to an asshole that might've had some scales. But he was obnoxious, not homicidial."

Which meant there would be no hunt later, not even the planning of one. Will lets out a huff of annoyance, but immediately refocuses on the wound. "Grab that towel with your other hand, I'll try to help wrap it around the fingers. Don't move the arm I'm holding. Is he in the hall now?"

"I didn't hear feet on the stairs behind me. I stabbed him in the mouth. In the inside of the mouth. The top mouth. He was still shrieking when I ran out of the stairwell," Malcolm explains, trying to fumble for the towel without moving his arm. His fingers are... less responsive than he was expecting, even on his good hand, which is... granted, on his torn up arm. He looks at Will in the mirror suddenly. "Oh. I'm going to need a new knife."

"We have plenty," he replies, tone as flat as his expression when he meets Malcolm's eyes. "And sounds like we risk the hallway, then. Move with me, I'm going to keep your arm level. Come on."

As soon as they're clear of the cabin, he's going to use the waypoint to take them to the Infirmary. Hopefully, Ulla will be there, because this is a concerning amount of blood. Or Shaw. Not knocking the others, but he trusts them.

In the meantime, he'll rely on Malcolm to keep talking. It'll give him an indication whether Malcolm's about to pass out or not.

Malcolm does, indeed, keep talking, even as he's starting to pale noticeably.

"The hallway? Where are we going? Oh, the infirmary? Are you sure we can't take care of this ourselves? I didn't think it looked that bad. ...Oh, is it that bad? I did have a passing thought that it maybe went bone deep in a couple of places. Still. I think you were applying good pressure. I'm more concerned about my hand, but I don't think there's nerve damage. I kept my fist closed when I ripped it out of his mouth so I wouldn't drop the knife but also so my ring wouldn't slide off in his mouth. Honestly, I kind of hope it chipped his tooth on the way out. But I didn't want to lose it. Remember the day you gave it to me?" He tilts his head to the side a bit so he can look up at Will as they appear in the infirmary. "I think about it all the time," he says with a dreamy look. His voice is definitely weaker now, but he doesn't seem to notice. "That was the best day of my whole entire life up to that point. But you're like one of those Olympic swimmers that keeps beating their own record."

Will's jaw sets and his throat works when Malcolm says he 'didn't think it looked that bad.' It's shock, that's all it is, but he feels a rage building up in him that he can't let out right now. He'll sort it out later.

By the time they're at the door, Malcolm has turned to far nicer things, and it helps Will to relax enough to smile at him. "You do that, too. Just so you know."

And then they're whisked to the spot just outside the infirmary. Will pulls him inside and he yells. "Emergency! We've got an emergency here! Multiple deep lacerations on the arms and fingers." He tries to make it to the nearest bed with Malcolm, but if his husband passes out before that, Will's going to go down with him. He won't stop holding pressure on the deepest wound, and he wants to give Malcolm a soft fall.

Will's shouting at the infirmary people now and there's commotion. Why are there so many injuries right now? He's still mostly managing to put one foot in front of the other, stumbling into Will a little as they head towards a bed.

"It's just some... chewing..." he says faintly as Will manages to get him onto the bed. He's not sure how much of his own power he's using. Probably less than he's feeling like he's using. "Maybe Ulla can come over and take a look." Malcolm you're not in your cabin anymore.

Whoever is here is not fast enough for Will. Now that he has Malcolm on a bed, he has more time to worry.

It's barely a few seconds before Will is shifting around. He rearranges the towel (now extremely bloody) so the bed helps apply pressure and he can hold it with I've hand. The other he uses to dial his communicator and call Ulla.

"Ulla, Malcolm just got mauled," is his greeting for today.

Edited (ihu autocorrect) 2025-06-19 23:24 (UTC)

"Where are you?" And she'll slither to the nearest waypoint and arrive at the infirmary momentarily. She's healed, but there's a faint scent of her own blood on her.

"Is it only cuts, or does anything seem broken?" Hjerte is already softly singing numbing spells so that Malcolm won't feel the pain intensify as Ulla heals him.

Malcolm giggles.

“Lots of skin is broken,” he tells her giddily.

Will rubs his face, frustrated. The smeared blood doesn't help him look like the reasonable one here, but he doesn't pay out any mind.

"Deep bites on the arm, through the muscle. Unsure about the other hand. No bones fractured, from what I could tell. He's lost a lot of blood. Idiot went to our cabin rather than here."

It's only then that he clicks the scent of blood on her and realize it's hers. "Are you all right? The same lizard man got you, too?

Clearly Malcolm has lost too much blood.

Hurriedly, she assures Will, "I'm alright, tell you about it after." Her voice is about to be occupied.

She sings a wordless song, and Malcolm's wounds start to knit themselves together. After a minute, Ulla takes hold of Will's hand and moves it away, the pressure no longer needed. She keeps singing even once Malcolm is healed, washing the blood away from him and from Will, leaving them both clean, even if the smell of blood lingers in the air. And she'll give Will's hand a reassuring squeeze before she releases it.

The healing leaves him intact and clean, if pale and drowsy.

“I knew you’d do housecalls,” he tells Ulla. “Was that Hjerte singing with you? He sounds like Pavarotti.” He notices her tail and points at it. “You’re a fish today! Where’s your bowl?”

"Malcolm," Will says, and while it could sound like an admonishment, it's really fond. He leans down and kisses his forehead. "You're in the Infirmary. Rest, sweetheart."

He squeezed Ulla's hand back, a little harder than intended, and now he gives her a strained smile. "You're a master of your craft. Thank you. I hope that didn't take too much out of you." He's never sure with magic.

Edited (clarity) 2025-06-20 03:04 (UTC)

Ulla brushes Malcolm's hair back from his face, and Hjerte slides down her arm to curl up by his shoulder for the time being. "I would make house calls, if you asked," she tells him.

Then she wraps an arm around Will and leans into his side. "I wanted to help. You don't owe me thanks. And blood amplifies magic, which makes cuts easier to heal than most injuries. For complex healing spells, sometimes I cut myself or my patient solely for that."

Malcolm lifts his now healed left hand, looking at one side and then the other.

“There’s not even a mark,” he marvels. “Well, except the one that was already there.” He tilts his hand slightly so Hjerte can see. “Where they put the pin in when I broke my first metacarpal bone.” He tilts his head to look at Hjerte. “I had to get out of shackles to stop this killer from murdering my mother and my sister, but here was the problem: the diameter of the shackles was three inches and the diameter of my hand was five inches. So… I had to make my hand three inches. That’s just math,” he explains sagely. “I think that hungry lizard misunderstood what kind of rat I am in a trap. But I didn’t let him eat my ring.” He tilts his hand another way so Hjerte can see that. “Isn’t it beautiful? Will gave it to me.”

Will leans against Ulla, hugging her close in return.

"I suppose we're lucky that he bled all over everything he could, then," he says. The words are sharp and his eyes flash briefly with a bit of anger- he makes sure not to point it in her direction. "I'll call you directly next time...it's probably too much to hope that there won't be a next time."

He shifts back to look her over, now that the danger has passed. "You said you'd tell me about what happened? You really okay?" He figures she must be, if she could do all that healing, but still...

"It's lovely," Hjerte assures Malcolm, draping a couple tentacles across his shoulders. "Will has good taste in jewelry and in people."

In the meantime, Ulla murmurs to Will, "I'm fine, promise. Hjerte kept me in one piece while he had my throat so I couldn't sing, and then Jedao intervened before any damage could be done besides a sore throat and some bite marks on my tail, both already healed. No real harm. To me, at least. Hjerte knocked out some of his teeth."

"Which mouth?" Malcolm asks Hjerte with interest when Ulla mentions Hjerte knocking out some teeth.

He doesn't look at Hjerte, but the compliments on his 'good taste' cause his worried look to soften. It sounded like Hjerte really saved the day, as well.

"I'm so glad you have him," Will murmurs. "That he could protect you." Since they are no longer wolves. Will cannot be near her constantly, ready to rip the throat out of any threat that comes near her.

He nearly smiles as he adds to the questions. "I assume that was Hjerte's magic that was knocking the teeth out?"

"She throws me away from her if she gets into a close-range fight," Hjerte notes, amused. Clearly no harm came to him from being tossed across the deck.

Ulla nods. "That way at least one of us is free to sing." No regrets on her part either.

And for Malcolm, she adds, "His upper teeth. I think the blood in his eyes distracted him enough to make him let go, so I'm grateful. And really, gnawing on my tail afterwards was hardly worth mentioning. Transformation is considerably more painful and dangerous."

"I stabbed him in the top mouth," Malcolm tells them. "In the top of the top mouth. It made him let go of my arm," he explains, tilting his arm slightly to see where the wounds had been and finding the bloody towel, though his arm is now miraculously clean. He picks it up. "Oh that's where my blood is. No wonder I'm dizzy."

"You lost a lot more than that," Will grumbles. He licks his lips, pausing before continuing. "Ulla used it to help with the healing. But there's even more in the cabin. Been a long time since there was such a mess in there." That was Hannibal's visit, of course.

He thinks for a moment, then adds, "It's possible that all three of us are a little too used to this, by now."

"Can I come home with you and clean it up?" Ulla asks. It's much more practical to let her, and silly for Will to worry about that. "Cleaning spells are easy. I scoured the barnacles from my nursery walls when I was still a baby."

Malcolm looks up at Will. He's mad. ...He's not mad at Malcolm. At least, Malcolm is pretty sure of that.

He's distracted for a moment when Ulla offers to come over and clean up his mess. She's always welcome, of course. He smiles and nods his consent. If it's okay with Will. He looks at Will again.

"Are you going to bite him?" he asks carefully.

Ulla asks and he rubs at his face. Malcolm's okay with it, and so Will nods, too. "That would be great, Ulla. Thanks."

But Malcolm must've noticed his stiffness- or more importantly, why he's holding himself so stiffly. He can practically feel the leash he's holding himself on. He doesn't react to the question for a moment, other than closing his eyes.

"No," he says, deep regret in his voice. "I'm not going to bite him, and I'm not going to stab him. I'm going to call Norton, and I'll...get some details." He knows Norton well enough that the man will understand where he's coming from.

Ulla rests her head against Will's shoulder, giving him a sympathetic squeeze. "Taylor might need to assure herself I'm really in one piece, too. She probably already knows, but is not happy either."

Ulla reaches into her bag, pulling a shrimp from a container of water there and setting it on her shoulder. She murmurs, "I'm alright, sweetheart. Barely hurt and already healed, I promise."

He's still watching Will. Still concerned.

"...You don't have to... not do... anything. I don't... want you to be someone else. I just don't want you to get demoted, either."

Will hasn't seen how Taylor can be, but he can certainly guess how she feels. Her abilities would mean she has to hold back pretty heavily, too. He nods at Ulla's reassuring words, even if they're not for him.

He then looks towards Malcolm, rather like a guilty puppy that got caught chewing up a shoe. It's partially how he's feeling and partially a defense mechanism- better this than going dead silent and angry. "It's not exactly something I can 'dial down', Malcolm," he says with a sad smile. "Better to just...be a good upstanding warden while I'm on board."

Malcolm watches him with half-focused eyes, but not for lack of trying.

He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it, then finally settles on "When can we go home?"

"Anytime," Ulla tells Malcolm, giving Will one more squeeze before she lets him go. "But let Will help you, I don't think you've fully recovered from the blood loss yet. You should eat and drink once we're there. Will can get that while I clean up."

Ulla pokes her head into Will's office, after making sure he's not with anyone. "Are you busy, or are you free to talk a little?"

She's on foot today, in an ivy-green dress.

Will smiles and stands when he sees it's her. He gestures towards the empty chair across from him.

"No, not too busy. And I could use a break, anyway. How've you been? Everything been settling down for you?"

It better have, he thinks.

She hugs him first, then perches with her legs folded up in front of her chest, elbows resting on her knees. Hjerte affectionately twines a lock of Ulla's hair around one of his tentacles as she speaks.

"Yes. I wanted to tell you that I did more research after we talked about autism, and it feels right. I told Taylor. And it also... helped, a little, in the aftermath of the last breach. In asking for what I needed."

Edited 2025-07-11 21:09 (UTC)

The hug back is easy for Will, in a way no one who knew him back home would've believed. He gives Hjerte a smile as he pulls back, too. He doesn't close the door to the office- only because he and Malcolm are the only ones in, at the moment.

"It's often underplayed, how important it is to be able to identify mental conditions. There are so many simple solutions when you can recognize the problems for what they are," he replies, sitting back down in his chair. "I imagine Taylor was supportive?"

Because they truly do seem like the best for each other.

"Of course. But she asked me whether there's anything she should do, even though she and Warren are the only people who are never tiring. Well, Warren's often irritating, but that's different." He likes to cheerfully annoy her for her own good, but he doesn't exhaust her. "I told her she doesn't need to change anything, I just wanted her to know."

She purses her lips. "After the breach, Taylor wasn't the problem. Four years of breaches, and this was the first that gave me a parent. ...He wants to adopt me."

So that's been something to wrestle with.

Will sits ready to accept some news, of possibly something with mental health or the breach. But somehow he's still not ready at all when she tells him about a parent.

He blinks, he takes a breath. "Really," he finally says. "How do you feel about it?" And who is it? But they have time for that later. There must be an ocean of mixed feelings she's going through.

"It's... hard. His brother is easier. I've never had an uncle, so there are no old feelings to untangle when it comes to Istradez. He hugs me and braids my hair. But Mikodez..." Ulla shakes her head.

"I don't know how much I'm struggling with him and how much I'm struggling with the father who raised me. I do know that he's a trained spymaster, and all his instincts are to not be straightforward. But I told him he has to be, where I'm concerned. And he said he would."

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