Malcolm Bright (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
abrightboy) wrote2030-05-05 08:18 pm
abrightboy) wrote2030-05-05 08:18 pm
Entry tags:
Voicemail (IC Contact Post) NEW
This is Bright. Leave a message.
[Something about lying to Lark seems... wrong. So he doesn't do it. But there is a brief hesitation while he wrestles with that.]
Not... the best. I mean. Some things are good and some things are really... not.
[Another brief silence.]
Everyone is leaving.
Not... the best. I mean. Some things are good and some things are really... not.
[Another brief silence.]
Everyone is leaving.
[During this nonsense.]
Mr Bright? I apologise for disturbing you, but if you would please come to the Kitchens at your earliest convenience. It concerns your Inmate.
["At your earliest convenience" of course means "right this bloody second".]
Mr Bright? I apologise for disturbing you, but if you would please come to the Kitchens at your earliest convenience. It concerns your Inmate.
["At your earliest convenience" of course means "right this bloody second".]
[It doesn’t mean right bloody now in New York.]
Why? What did she spill now?
Why? What did she spill now?
[After he's dealt with Sebastian's wound and finished the dinner shift, Malcolm is getting an evening call.]
Mr. Bright. Do you have time to talk now?
Mr. Bright. Do you have time to talk now?
[ His breath is only a little heavier than usual. But that's still a little odd.
He doesn't really get out of breath anymore, unless they've just been running. ]
Malcolm, I'm okay, but Peter got me pretty good. I'm healing it up.
He doesn't really get out of breath anymore, unless they've just been running. ]
Malcolm, I'm okay, but Peter got me pretty good. I'm healing it up.
Got... got you pretty good? What does that mean? Where are you?
[Already leaving his cabin, despite not knowing where he's going.]
[Already leaving his cabin, despite not knowing where he's going.]
[Backdated to right before the beginning of the Sticks and Stones Flood]
deuceoftears
2024-03-03 01:46 am (UTC)(link)
It's been about a week.
If now is an okay time?
If now is an okay time?
Re: [Backdated to right before the beginning of the Sticks and Stones Flood]
abrightboy
2024-03-03 02:09 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah. Do… you want to meet in person?
Re: [Backdated to right before the beginning of the Sticks and Stones Flood]
deuceoftears
- 2024-03-03 02:12 (UTC) - ExpandRe: [Backdated to right before the beginning of the Sticks and Stones Flood]
abrightboy
- 2024-03-03 02:18 (UTC) - ExpandRe: [Backdated to right before the beginning of the Sticks and Stones Flood]
deuceoftears
- 2024-03-03 02:29 (UTC) - ExpandRe: [Backdated to right before the beginning of the Sticks and Stones Flood]
abrightboy
- 2024-03-03 02:44 (UTC) - ExpandRe: [Backdated to right before the beginning of the Sticks and Stones Flood]
deuceoftears
- 2024-03-03 02:47 (UTC) - ExpandRe: [Backdated to right before the beginning of the Sticks and Stones Flood]
abrightboy
- 2024-03-03 02:49 (UTC) - ExpandRe: [Backdated to right before the beginning of the Sticks and Stones Flood]
deuceoftears
- 2024-03-03 03:04 (UTC) - ExpandRe: [Backdated to right before the beginning of the Sticks and Stones Flood]
abrightboy
- 2024-03-03 03:09 (UTC) - ExpandWarden Bright?
I have someone here with me. He wishes to make a request to the Admiral so we can better understand and empathize with one another.
I was hoping you'd be able to do that for us.
I have someone here with me. He wishes to make a request to the Admiral so we can better understand and empathize with one another.
I was hoping you'd be able to do that for us.
Edited 2024-03-03 04:38 (UTC)
Hey doc, we were talking and Kiki said she'd help teach me some skills if you'd be willing to help out.
Figured it'd be better than us finding other ways to work out our emotions.
Figured it'd be better than us finding other ways to work out our emotions.
Five minutes after Will faints dead away during patrol, Shaw comes shuffling into Will's cabin with his arm slung around her shoulder, and his dead weight propped up against her body. "It's a coma, not an injury," she says to Malcolm, panting slightly. "Help me get him to the bed? Or your cabin, or... wherever the hell we're taking him."
She is not even a little bit sentimental about people in comas, but she'd be willing to bet a lot of money that Malcolm is.
She is not even a little bit sentimental about people in comas, but she'd be willing to bet a lot of money that Malcolm is.
Malcolm drops the book he was reading as he stands and leaves it there as he steps over, looking Will over as he arrives, feeling his pulse, just to make sure.
“I’ll take him,” he says quietly, taking the arm that’s around Shaw and hoisting him easily into a fireman’s carry. “My cabin,” he says. In case she wants to come. He heads in that direction.
“I’ll take him,” he says quietly, taking the arm that’s around Shaw and hoisting him easily into a fireman’s carry. “My cabin,” he says. In case she wants to come. He heads in that direction.
Will had been the one to convince Malcolm to go to Japan, to get his tattoo done properly by the master Kiryu had gone to. Will knew it was an important thing for him to have, that it'd be good for them to spend a few days apart, that Malcolm needed to see that leaving the Barge for important reasons wasn't the end of the world.
He knew all of that, but he still felt almost comically restless as he waited for Malcolm to get back. He worked long hours (easy to do right now, with the flood influx), he spent time in Malcolm's cabin- even slept there once, just for the comforting smell. He worked on lures and paintings and fixing a tilt on the desk in his cabin.
Will is in Malcolm's cabin when the man makes it back, sitting on the couch with one hand on a dog and the other resting on an unopened copy of Exotic Animal Laboratory Diagnosis. He's clearly expecting Neal (or maybe Kikimora?) as he looks to the front door. His face lights up as soon as he sees Malcolm.
He knew all of that, but he still felt almost comically restless as he waited for Malcolm to get back. He worked long hours (easy to do right now, with the flood influx), he spent time in Malcolm's cabin- even slept there once, just for the comforting smell. He worked on lures and paintings and fixing a tilt on the desk in his cabin.
Will is in Malcolm's cabin when the man makes it back, sitting on the couch with one hand on a dog and the other resting on an unopened copy of Exotic Animal Laboratory Diagnosis. He's clearly expecting Neal (or maybe Kikimora?) as he looks to the front door. His face lights up as soon as he sees Malcolm.
Malcolm is so glad that Will - and only Will - is there when he arrives. He lights up too, dropping his bag just inside the door and running across the cabin to vault over the couch and fling himself into Will’s arms. He just breathes deeply for a moment, taking in his scent and his warmth.
“The recordings helped so much thank you,” he finally says without easing up on the hug at all.
“The recordings helped so much thank you,” he finally says without easing up on the hug at all.
Will wakes slowly. He doesn't remember falling asleep, but this is hardly the first time he's been disoriented while waking up. He feels creaky as he rolls slightly. His mouth is dry, but he doesn't have a headache (not one of his usual "oops, I lost time" ones, anyway). He can smell Malcolm and the dogs. He's warm and he can feel fur under his hand.
He finally cracks open his eyes while he pets whichever of his dogs managed to curl up with him, and it's...Malcolm, as it turns out. He clears his throat, hugs the wolf and manages to croak out. "Uh...morning?"
He finally cracks open his eyes while he pets whichever of his dogs managed to curl up with him, and it's...Malcolm, as it turns out. He clears his throat, hugs the wolf and manages to croak out. "Uh...morning?"
Edited (icon) 2024-03-26 03:02 (UTC)
The wolf startles awake, sees Will’s eyes open and barks at him. He leaps to his feet right there on the bed, licks his face, tippy-taps but misjudges the space and falls off the bed, jumps up and runs around to the other side of the bed and back to this one, barking at him again before a creak and snap of bone means he’s changing back into a human. Then he crawls up onto the bed and throws his arms around Will and just clings to him.
It’s not their usual bed. It’s the one in the room upstairs. There are no restraints. There are no personal touches.
“You were out for like two weeks,” he says, muffled, into Will’s shoulder.
It’s not their usual bed. It’s the one in the room upstairs. There are no restraints. There are no personal touches.
“You were out for like two weeks,” he says, muffled, into Will’s shoulder.
Re: A few days after the Texas Balloon Launch Breach
empathicfault
- 2024-03-26 03:20 (UTC) - ExpandRe: A few days after the Texas Balloon Launch Breach
empathicfault
- 2024-03-26 16:11 (UTC) - ExpandRe: A few days after the Texas Balloon Launch Breach
empathicfault
- 2024-03-27 20:08 (UTC) - ExpandRe: A few days after the Texas Balloon Launch Breach
empathicfault
- 2024-03-27 20:30 (UTC) - ExpandRe: A few days after the Texas Balloon Launch Breach
empathicfault
- 2024-03-27 22:03 (UTC) - Expand[Busted. He answers on audio after a moment. When he speaks, his voice is tight, like he’s trying to swallow an emotion he wasn’t expecting anyone to witness.]
…Hi. He’s… here. In my cabin. Are… why are you looking for him?
…Hi. He’s… here. In my cabin. Are… why are you looking for him?
Malcolm, sitting on the floor with his back against Will's bed, frowns when he hears the door. He isn't expecting anyone. Will's voice is reading from a textbook about birds on his phone. He pulls it closer to his hip and his knees closer to his chest and ignores the door.
Malcolm.
[This message comes on the late side - not midnight, but not too far from it either - and her tone comes with the upmost gravity, as if she's about to ask him the meaning of life.]
What was that movie you picked for us to watch that one time. In the breach.
[This message comes on the late side - not midnight, but not too far from it either - and her tone comes with the upmost gravity, as if she's about to ask him the meaning of life.]
What was that movie you picked for us to watch that one time. In the breach.
[Malcolm, settled in the crook of Will's shoulder, fumbles behind himself for his phone with one hand, his restraint jangling, until he chances upon it on the bedside table and drags it over to prop on Will's chest and read the message. He frowns to himself in thought for a moment, then responds by audio.]
...Time Bandits?
...Time Bandits?
[After his conversation with Allan, he calls up Malcolm.
And honestly he just sounds so tired.]
Hey, can you get your inmate to stop picking fights because she thinks people are being too annoying? The tiny teapot's really getting her steps in running around screaming at kettles.
And honestly he just sounds so tired.]
Hey, can you get your inmate to stop picking fights because she thinks people are being too annoying? The tiny teapot's really getting her steps in running around screaming at kettles.
.....What? [He frowns faintly.] What happened? What did she do?
[Sounding massively hungover, Trevor reaches out for what he suspects is going to be a long-running thing between him and this other warden]
My inmate's asking me for a weapon for your inmate and the Necromancer told me to ask you and I fucking hate this ship.
My inmate's asking me for a weapon for your inmate and the Necromancer told me to ask you and I fucking hate this ship.
Blitz wants to give Kikimora a weapon? All he does is complain about her stabbing him the last time she got her hands on one. What kind of weapon?
[After this.]
Hey, Malcolm. I- can't believe I'm saying this, but I need your help with a crime scene. Can you come up to the art gazebo? Maybe bring a shirt?
Hey, Malcolm. I- can't believe I'm saying this, but I need your help with a crime scene. Can you come up to the art gazebo? Maybe bring a shirt?
A crime scene? [You have his attention and his grin is audible.] I'll be there in five minutes. What kind of shirt do I need?
Re: voice, backdated to the 'Accidental' Murder Spree
empathicfault
- 2024-04-15 21:19 (UTC) - ExpandRe: voice, backdated to the 'Accidental' Murder Spree
empathicfault
- 2024-04-15 21:33 (UTC) - ExpandRe: voice, backdated to the 'Accidental' Murder Spree
empathicfault
- 2024-04-16 00:05 (UTC) - ExpandRe: voice, backdated to the 'Accidental' Murder Spree
empathicfault
- 2024-04-16 02:25 (UTC) - ExpandRe: voice, backdated to the 'Accidental' Murder Spree
empathicfault
- 2024-04-16 08:03 (UTC) - ExpandLark always knows when he's dreaming because there is always a rabbit. He doesn't follow it with Alice's curiosity; sometimes if he dreams he's a wolf he hunts it and devours it. If he dreams he's a man then the rabbit is just there in his peripheral vision in every scene.
Gets awkward in dirty dreams, actually.
This dream takes him to a city he's never visited. It smells as filthy as downtown LA ever does in the summer but the buildings are taller and clustered, and there are taxis and buses and he can hear a subway somewhere down under the street.
"New York, New York," he half sing-songs, walking slowly, watching the people across the street.
Gets awkward in dirty dreams, actually.
This dream takes him to a city he's never visited. It smells as filthy as downtown LA ever does in the summer but the buildings are taller and clustered, and there are taxis and buses and he can hear a subway somewhere down under the street.
"New York, New York," he half sing-songs, walking slowly, watching the people across the street.
Malcolm's always in New York, but... it's weird that he's here, right?
"...Lark?"
"...Lark?"
Okay.
I'm still angry, but I do feel more in control of myself. I'd prefer to meet somewhere both private and relatively neutral. The mediation offices?
I'm still angry, but I do feel more in control of myself. I'd prefer to meet somewhere both private and relatively neutral. The mediation offices?
You’re really making this sound appealing. Okay. I’ll be there in ten minutes.
[He gives Will a grim look and takes a deep breath before heading there.]
[He gives Will a grim look and takes a deep breath before heading there.]
The knock on Malcolm's door is firm and unhesitant, and as soon as he opens it she holds up a thermos.
"I made your hot chocolate. ...I'm sorry I got so angry at you. After Lark brushed me off and people kept asking stupid questions they knew I didn't have answers for, like doing nothing is better than trying, I kind of lost my temper."
"I made your hot chocolate. ...I'm sorry I got so angry at you. After Lark brushed me off and people kept asking stupid questions they knew I didn't have answers for, like doing nothing is better than trying, I kind of lost my temper."
Re: the day after her lark post; (will is welcome to gatecrash)
abrightboy
2024-05-01 10:15 am (UTC)(link)
“That doesn’t mean you were wrong,” Malcolm tells her, stepping back from the doorway so she can come in. “If you set that on the counter,” he says, tilting his head towards the thermos, “I’ll get a couple mugs down and pour.”
He closes the door behind her. Will is out with the dogs, though he could return at any time. Their signs of life are everywhere. Dog beds, treats, Will’s coat flung over one of the stools at the breakfast bar, closest to the bedroom. It’s a wearing one of Will’s shirts day for Malcolm, in fact. He’s dressed in a plaid button-down that’s a little too long in the sleeves for him. And, while there may be no dogs around right now, the parakeet swoops freely across the loft, chirping brightly. There’s a thick book on veterinary medicine sitting on top of the lid of the terrarium positioned at the end of the kitchen island, facing the living room. Inside, two colourful red and teal snakes sun themselves under a heat lamp contentedly. Malcolm steps around the tank into the kitchen and takes down two nondescript grey mugs.
Just past the underside of the stairs, by a large window with views of SoHo, New York, are two art easels and a hodge podge of various supplies. One easel has an interesting if incomplete rocky orange landscape on it. The other’s canvas boasts what might generously be assumed is the work of an uncoordinated child. Everything else - cases of weapons, large gothic paintings, etc - are the same as always, except in the bedroom, on the wall facing the bed and the door, is a large, striking and colourful painting of a boat roiling through a starry, cloudy space.
“I don’t always come across the way I intend to,” he tells her, taking the thermos once she sets it down and unscrewing the lid to pour. “And people get hurt that I don’t want to hurt.”
He closes the door behind her. Will is out with the dogs, though he could return at any time. Their signs of life are everywhere. Dog beds, treats, Will’s coat flung over one of the stools at the breakfast bar, closest to the bedroom. It’s a wearing one of Will’s shirts day for Malcolm, in fact. He’s dressed in a plaid button-down that’s a little too long in the sleeves for him. And, while there may be no dogs around right now, the parakeet swoops freely across the loft, chirping brightly. There’s a thick book on veterinary medicine sitting on top of the lid of the terrarium positioned at the end of the kitchen island, facing the living room. Inside, two colourful red and teal snakes sun themselves under a heat lamp contentedly. Malcolm steps around the tank into the kitchen and takes down two nondescript grey mugs.
Just past the underside of the stairs, by a large window with views of SoHo, New York, are two art easels and a hodge podge of various supplies. One easel has an interesting if incomplete rocky orange landscape on it. The other’s canvas boasts what might generously be assumed is the work of an uncoordinated child. Everything else - cases of weapons, large gothic paintings, etc - are the same as always, except in the bedroom, on the wall facing the bed and the door, is a large, striking and colourful painting of a boat roiling through a starry, cloudy space.
“I don’t always come across the way I intend to,” he tells her, taking the thermos once she sets it down and unscrewing the lid to pour. “And people get hurt that I don’t want to hurt.”
Soooo... your dad seems kinda into killing people?
I know what people said on the warden filter on that girl's post.
Do you know how I know?
Do you know how I know?
Edited (lol, forgot Malcolm's was private) 2024-05-02 01:45 (UTC)
Same way I know what was on the Inmate filter? Someone showed you?
They're in the Lounge, Johann half heartedly joining in the conversation.
He's been like this the past few times they've decided to get together, drinking sans sarcasm and only making one dirty joke.
He's been like this the past few times they've decided to get together, drinking sans sarcasm and only making one dirty joke.
Since Johann became a Warden and, since he expressed concerns about both his desire and suitability for that role, Malcolm has tried to give him a bit of space to process it. ...But this is longer than Johann tends to process anything.
"Johann... is something going on with you?'
"Johann... is something going on with you?'
[Shortly after Lark turns her, because Maggie has been vibrating with background stress since she overheard this.]
Hey Malcolm. Could we touch base about something? If you want to stop by, I'll make tea and we can drink it in my garden.
Hey Malcolm. Could we touch base about something? If you want to stop by, I'll make tea and we can drink it in my garden.
Um, okay. You have a garden? Sure. I'll be right there.
[And he does knock. He has a tin in his hand he repurposed from cookies Sweeney gave him. It is now full of gingersnaps that Root gave him. When she opens the door, he holds it out for her.]
[And he does knock. He has a tin in his hand he repurposed from cookies Sweeney gave him. It is now full of gingersnaps that Root gave him. When she opens the door, he holds it out for her.]
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