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
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Voicemail (IC Contact Post) NEW
This is Bright. Leave a message.
[ Continued from here. ]
Will thinks over Malcolm's question. Of course he doesn't think Malcolm's stupid to make any decision on this, but getting past that and to the heart of the question...
"I do think that maybe you're too scared it won't help. That you can't let anything try, because if it doesn't help and you get...out of hand, then it's too late," Will replies quietly. "I wish I could give you advice there that isn't just to let it happen."
He sighs and looks up towards the ceiling. Because as much as he'd like a partner in this experience- "I don't want you to follow my path. And I'm not going to let you get demoted. But if you don't let the reins loose a little, the unknown fear will always remain that- unknown. And that means the fear doesn't have a limit, as to how large it can get. I know how consuming that can be."
But he also knows that just makes it harder to let go. The worse it got, the tighter Will clung to his control, until it had been forcibly taken away, multiple times. "Maybe you can let yourself enjoy what you know you enjoy. We'll go running more often. But if something pops up and concerns you, just think of...whether you really don't like it, or whether it's a path you've long since turned away from out of fear. And maybe see if you can get comfortable with the idea of your pack helping you with it." And now that he has it all out, he looks slightly uncertain. "Does that make sense?"
Will thinks over Malcolm's question. Of course he doesn't think Malcolm's stupid to make any decision on this, but getting past that and to the heart of the question...
"I do think that maybe you're too scared it won't help. That you can't let anything try, because if it doesn't help and you get...out of hand, then it's too late," Will replies quietly. "I wish I could give you advice there that isn't just to let it happen."
He sighs and looks up towards the ceiling. Because as much as he'd like a partner in this experience- "I don't want you to follow my path. And I'm not going to let you get demoted. But if you don't let the reins loose a little, the unknown fear will always remain that- unknown. And that means the fear doesn't have a limit, as to how large it can get. I know how consuming that can be."
But he also knows that just makes it harder to let go. The worse it got, the tighter Will clung to his control, until it had been forcibly taken away, multiple times. "Maybe you can let yourself enjoy what you know you enjoy. We'll go running more often. But if something pops up and concerns you, just think of...whether you really don't like it, or whether it's a path you've long since turned away from out of fear. And maybe see if you can get comfortable with the idea of your pack helping you with it." And now that he has it all out, he looks slightly uncertain. "Does that make sense?"
Malcolm nods, his eyes large and trusting, but also… longing.
“I want… I want to just…. be part of it. I guess… I mean everyone makes it look so natural that I thought when I changed, it would be part of my nature.” He puts a hand on Will’s chest. Lets himself just feel Will’s heartbeat for a moment. “When I was thinking it over… Neal and Raylan suggested that maybe I wanted it for the wrong reasons. After the moose, Lark disappeared, and I thought… what if he made a mistake? What if they were right and I made a mistake? But then you were going to turn and…. it was exciting. Going down a new path with you that isn’t yours or mine. But I wanted to do it. I wanted to. And I wanted to say something even up to the moment it happened, but I didn’t want to ruin your day by being selfish because I knew how much it meant to you, but all of it… it won’t go away.” He looks up from his hand to Will’s face. “How do I let the reins loose?” he asks earnestly. “How do I… let something happen? I want to feel something… that isn’t this. I’m always a square peg in a round hole and I want to feel something else.”
“I want… I want to just…. be part of it. I guess… I mean everyone makes it look so natural that I thought when I changed, it would be part of my nature.” He puts a hand on Will’s chest. Lets himself just feel Will’s heartbeat for a moment. “When I was thinking it over… Neal and Raylan suggested that maybe I wanted it for the wrong reasons. After the moose, Lark disappeared, and I thought… what if he made a mistake? What if they were right and I made a mistake? But then you were going to turn and…. it was exciting. Going down a new path with you that isn’t yours or mine. But I wanted to do it. I wanted to. And I wanted to say something even up to the moment it happened, but I didn’t want to ruin your day by being selfish because I knew how much it meant to you, but all of it… it won’t go away.” He looks up from his hand to Will’s face. “How do I let the reins loose?” he asks earnestly. “How do I… let something happen? I want to feel something… that isn’t this. I’m always a square peg in a round hole and I want to feel something else.”
Continued from here.
Absolutely. Lounge, right? I can be there in ten minutes.
Absolutely. Lounge, right? I can be there in ten minutes.
Edited 2023-09-28 01:45 (UTC)
I'm already there.
Well, outside the door since I don't have the goddamn key.
Well, outside the door since I don't have the goddamn key.
[After some of some of this]
Malcolm, darling, I think your inmate might be upset about something. [He shows Malcolm a video of an upturned table with dishes smashed and food scattered.] She came into the dining hall, pushed the table over, made a general mess of things, and then Sebastian came and picked her up and tossed her outside and banned her.
Not sure he has the authority to do that.
Anyhoo, it was the most excitement the dining hall's seen since Envy's portal killed people over their prandial plates.
Malcolm, darling, I think your inmate might be upset about something. [He shows Malcolm a video of an upturned table with dishes smashed and food scattered.] She came into the dining hall, pushed the table over, made a general mess of things, and then Sebastian came and picked her up and tossed her outside and banned her.
Not sure he has the authority to do that.
Anyhoo, it was the most excitement the dining hall's seen since Envy's portal killed people over their prandial plates.
...What? Where is she? Did she say what set her off?
[The middle question is rhetorical. He's pulling out his Warden item now.]
[The middle question is rhetorical. He's pulling out his Warden item now.]
[Arthur's tone is Pissed, with a side note of Very Tired.]
Bright, come get your fucking inmate from the wardrobe before she tries shoving over a shelf instead of ripping everything on it to shreds.
Bright, come get your fucking inmate from the wardrobe before she tries shoving over a shelf instead of ripping everything on it to shreds.
Norton just called. I'm already on my way. Is anyone hurt?
Good evening, Dr. Bright.
Have you been made aware of your Inmate’s recent vandalism of the dining hall area?
Have you been made aware of your Inmate’s recent vandalism of the dining hall area?
Yes, thank you. The calls have been rolling in. Was anyone hurt?
Oh. Thank you. I appreciate that.
[And he wasn't expecting it, but he's trying not to sound like that. It doesn't feel fair to be a little surprised.]
[And he wasn't expecting it, but he's trying not to sound like that. It doesn't feel fair to be a little surprised.]
Malcolm, you there?
[ It's a little strange. He's calling in the middle of the day, for one thing. It's during his shift. He doesn't have it on video, and he sounds rather tentative. ]
[ It's a little strange. He's calling in the middle of the day, for one thing. It's during his shift. He doesn't have it on video, and he sounds rather tentative. ]
Yes. Are you okay? [Because he sounds wrong and Malcolm is already texting Yunlan to come cover him.]
[The video flicks on and Malcolm is in his own cabin, hunched over ginger tea at his kitchen island. He didn't sleep last night. It's not a subtle effect on his face.]
About what?
About what?
Well. That conclusion wasn't ideal. Not that Neal regrets the part where he stepped in when Jesus started down the inevitable 'here is why it is in fact all your fault, Malcolm Bright' road. He regrets the way it ended. Not much else.
Neal knocks lightly on the bathroom door. "Malcolm? Do you want me to head out? I'm sorry, I just-- I couldn't take listening to someone telling you why your concern for Will is the fucking problem."
Neal knocks lightly on the bathroom door. "Malcolm? Do you want me to head out? I'm sorry, I just-- I couldn't take listening to someone telling you why your concern for Will is the fucking problem."
Edited 2023-10-11 21:29 (UTC)
There's a pause, then "Don't go," he calls back weakly.
Kikimora doesn't exactly know how to look at Malcolm at the moment.
She feels...strangely guilty. Because while she still feels she had the right to throw a tantrum all over the ship, she's been hearing things from her time up in his loft that make her think that maybe this was...not the most ideal time to do so. These last few days she's heard snippets of conversation between Malcolm and others about Will Graham, someone she barely knows except as an offshoot of her warden. Evidently he's killed someone.
And the screams in the middle of the night. They make her shudder.
She patters down the stairs and settles her hands in front of her, waiting for Malcolm to see and acknowledge her presence.
She feels...strangely guilty. Because while she still feels she had the right to throw a tantrum all over the ship, she's been hearing things from her time up in his loft that make her think that maybe this was...not the most ideal time to do so. These last few days she's heard snippets of conversation between Malcolm and others about Will Graham, someone she barely knows except as an offshoot of her warden. Evidently he's killed someone.
And the screams in the middle of the night. They make her shudder.
She patters down the stairs and settles her hands in front of her, waiting for Malcolm to see and acknowledge her presence.
Malcolm’s phone is sitting on the kitchen island. The screen is cracked. He’s making popcorn. He’s filling an absurdly large bowl. He turns around and spots her there.
“Kikimora! When did you come down? You walk so quietly. You’d be the mistress of stealth magic. If… that was a thing. What can I do for you?”
“Kikimora! When did you come down? You walk so quietly. You’d be the mistress of stealth magic. If… that was a thing. What can I do for you?”
There's no knock or other signifier, but the next time Malcolm opens his door, he's met with a simple cotton bag, large enough to hold two black tins. One contains Irish breakfast tea. The other holds five neatly rolled joints. There's no note.
[When Norton hears a sudden, harrowing scream from next door, his immediate assumption is that someone's murdering Malcolm. Or possibly torture. Neither are that unlikely on this ship, alas. He leaps up from the settee, tea cup spilling across the floor, snatches up one of the pistols from the small arsenal hidden in a trunk at the foot of his bed, and dashes into the hall.
If he could burst into Malcolm's cabin, he probably would, so as not to give a potential murderer warning of his arrival, but since that's not an option he pounds on the door instead.]
Malcolm, petal, are you all right?
[He thinks there are three likely ways this might play out. Malcolm opens the door and is fine, just loudly stubbed his toe or something silly and they can laugh and go about their business. Malcolm's murderer answers the door and either A) attacks Norton too, or B) tries to cover up the situation. Or no one answers the door, no response at all, in which case he'll need to call someone to open it.
Or, fourth scenario, he thinks belatedly, the scream was on account of some kind of entirely consensual kink Malcolm and Will are getting up to and they're all about to be a teensy bit embarrassed.]
If he could burst into Malcolm's cabin, he probably would, so as not to give a potential murderer warning of his arrival, but since that's not an option he pounds on the door instead.]
Malcolm, petal, are you all right?
[He thinks there are three likely ways this might play out. Malcolm opens the door and is fine, just loudly stubbed his toe or something silly and they can laugh and go about their business. Malcolm's murderer answers the door and either A) attacks Norton too, or B) tries to cover up the situation. Or no one answers the door, no response at all, in which case he'll need to call someone to open it.
Or, fourth scenario, he thinks belatedly, the scream was on account of some kind of entirely consensual kink Malcolm and Will are getting up to and they're all about to be a teensy bit embarrassed.]
[Neal is willing to answer the door, but Malcolm insists. He opens it, his face a little hollow and tearstained.]
Oh. Hey. Um. [He attempts to look casual. He fails.]
What’s… um… Is everything okay?
Oh. Hey. Um. [He attempts to look casual. He fails.]
What’s… um… Is everything okay?
[Rather than speaking over the network, Crozier seems out Malcolm with the intent of just talking to him and seeing how he’s fairing. It seems like there are quite a few large feelings floating about here and there, and being on the Barge long enough has made him spot a telltale ramp up.
Frankly, it was always going to happen with personalities like Malcolm or Shaw.]
Frankly, it was always going to happen with personalities like Malcolm or Shaw.]
Malcolm’s doing better today. Will was allowed to stay the night before. He’s a little more certain he won’t be completely banned from seeing him. But he’s still mad at a few people.
Francis isn’t one. When he opens the door and sees him there, his tired face lights up a little.
“Francis! Come in!” He steps back. “I still have some coffee. I can make tea? Or would you like something else?”
Francis isn’t one. When he opens the door and sees him there, his tired face lights up a little.
“Francis! Come in!” He steps back. “I still have some coffee. I can make tea? Or would you like something else?”
[Once the signs flood is over, Jedao waits for a time when Malcolm and Kikimora are out and about doing their work study repentance before jimmying the lock with his mind and slipping into the room. There's a weird impulse to take something from the fridge, as per Malcolm's own invitation, even though he doesn't even like food. He also ignores the weapons case, despite a vague coil of interest in his chest, and heads for his target. In the end, he doesn't even have a full cup - closer to a quarter cup of glitter, discretely removed from the art room. He sprinkles the glitter over Malcolm's sock drawer, closes it, and is out the door again in under a minute.]
Hey. Sorry I missed last week.
You need another week off or something?
You need another week off or something?
A lot went on last week. I can make this week. How are you doing?
I'm told I've done you a serious unkindness. That wasn't my intent.
I wondered if I might ask your own thoughts on the matter.
[In the spirit of humility, Jedao is wearing a very sparkly blue sweater.]
I wondered if I might ask your own thoughts on the matter.
[In the spirit of humility, Jedao is wearing a very sparkly blue sweater.]
[God, he doesn't wanna do thiiiiiiiis. Being an adult fucking sucks.
But he's doing it for Neal, because he said he'd try, and he has to at least hold out some hope that Malcolm will give him the time of day.]
So, uh. Parley?
But he's doing it for Neal, because he said he'd try, and he has to at least hold out some hope that Malcolm will give him the time of day.]
So, uh. Parley?
…Like in a pirate cease fire sort of way?
"Will."
The noise filters through his subconscious, intertwining with dreams of that cliffside driveway, the black blood in the moonlight, the very real feel of blood-drenched fabric clenched between his shaking fingers...
"Will, it's time to wake up," comes the clipped, accented voice to his right, outside of the warm bed. "Your paramour will be suffering with pavor nocturnus soon."
Will frowns, squeezing his eyes together, before finally opening them onto a confusing sight. Hannibal, somewhat dressed down without his vest or suit jacket, is standing and folding clothes. Will looks to Winston, still fast asleep on one of the dog beds. He looks back up to Hannibal.
"I admit, I didn't expect to be here, either. I thought you had banished me from your thoughts after taking up with Mr. Bright on a more serious basis."
"Not possible," Will says quietly. As he croaks the words, he realizes he's speaking aloud.
Hannibal's lips curl ever-so-slightly into a smile. "Indeed. Well, I will simply have to cherish the time we now have together. You may perhaps want to ready yourself for Mr. Bright's episode. I suspect it will be grander than most."
The noise filters through his subconscious, intertwining with dreams of that cliffside driveway, the black blood in the moonlight, the very real feel of blood-drenched fabric clenched between his shaking fingers...
"Will, it's time to wake up," comes the clipped, accented voice to his right, outside of the warm bed. "Your paramour will be suffering with pavor nocturnus soon."
Will frowns, squeezing his eyes together, before finally opening them onto a confusing sight. Hannibal, somewhat dressed down without his vest or suit jacket, is standing and folding clothes. Will looks to Winston, still fast asleep on one of the dog beds. He looks back up to Hannibal.
"I admit, I didn't expect to be here, either. I thought you had banished me from your thoughts after taking up with Mr. Bright on a more serious basis."
"Not possible," Will says quietly. As he croaks the words, he realizes he's speaking aloud.
Hannibal's lips curl ever-so-slightly into a smile. "Indeed. Well, I will simply have to cherish the time we now have together. You may perhaps want to ready yourself for Mr. Bright's episode. I suspect it will be grander than most."
Malcolm is in his bed, in his cabin on the Barge, with Will. No. He's in his bed, in his loft in SoHo, alone as always, waking with a start. Straining at the restraints, a scream muffled by his mouth guard. No. He's in the Woodsman's cabin in the forest and the restraints are attached to the ceiling, crusted blood in his eyelashes. Another shape hanging slouched from another set of restraints as his eyes adjust to the dark. His father. No. ...Isn't it supposed to be his father? It's Will.
"Will. Will, it's time to wake up."
He doesn't know he's speaking outloud in his sleep, straining at the restraints.
Where's his father?
His father has the knife.
"I was always a good father," he says. "You were never a good son."
He plunges the knife into Will's chest.
Malcolm wakes screaming Will's name, sitting bolt upright, reaching as far as the restraints allow, in the darkness in his cabin on the Barge. Shapes start to emerge. He blinks into the darkness and turns, heart pounding in his chest, to look at where Will should be...
"Will. Will, it's time to wake up."
He doesn't know he's speaking outloud in his sleep, straining at the restraints.
Where's his father?
His father has the knife.
"I was always a good father," he says. "You were never a good son."
He plunges the knife into Will's chest.
Malcolm wakes screaming Will's name, sitting bolt upright, reaching as far as the restraints allow, in the darkness in his cabin on the Barge. Shapes start to emerge. He blinks into the darkness and turns, heart pounding in his chest, to look at where Will should be...
…A body? What happened?
They're not sleeping so much, anymore. Just catching an hour here or there. The Barge is a little too active for either of them to have much of a chance at it. Sill, Will wakes from a two-hour doze on the couch, dog on his lap and a blanket tucked around him. He rubs one eye and then risks cracking it open to see the fake light pouring in the windows.
"Mmmf. Morning," he croaks as he straightens up and cracks his back.
"Mmmf. Morning," he croaks as he straightens up and cracks his back.
Malcolm is in tree pose with his eyes closed when Will wakes up, so it's his voice that stirs Malcolm from his thoughts. He smiles and opens his eyes.
"Hey. I made coffee." He gave up on sleep after watching Will doze for a bit.
"Hey. I made coffee." He gave up on sleep after watching Will doze for a bit.
He hasn't been by here in weeks and he's only coming by for one reason. He knocks lightly on the open door.
"Hey. You have a minute to talk?"
"Hey. You have a minute to talk?"
Malcolm looks up from his notebook, looking faintly surprised by who's standing there.
"Um. Sure."
He gestures to the chair across from him and closes his notebook.
"Um. Sure."
He gestures to the chair across from him and closes his notebook.
...Not since the Halloween party. Do you need help looking?
Malcolm comes around the corner on the way back to his cabin and he almost runs into him. And when he sees who he almost ran into, he just stops and stares.
"....Lark?"
"....Lark?"
hey. hope the breach didn't suck for you. and hope it's okay for me to contact you like this but
is there any chance we can meet? soon? or like whenever is best for you.
let me know
is there any chance we can meet? soon? or like whenever is best for you.
let me know
It wasn't bad at all. I hope it treated you okay too. I'm free now, if you want. Where do you want to meet?
Yeah. He’s back. Are you okay? How are you feeling?
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