abrightboy | Voicemail (IC Contact Post) NEW

"If you feel the need to, then rest assured; I'll protect them," Malcolm deadpans.

"How about a two-way protection detail," she says dryly. "A task force. Where are your mugs?"

Or maybe, she thinks, he uses teacups. He is fancy.

"In the cupboard above the sink," he tells her, gesturing to the cupboards behind her. "I literally hunt serial killers for a living where I come from. Only one of them has actually managed to stab me. ...And one zapped me with a cattle prod. ....And I got pushed down a concrete staircase once. ......And an elevator shaft. But the point is, not one of them has managed to kill me and it wasn't for a lack of trying."

"I know; you've told me."

She stands on her tippy-toes to pull down a mug - just one - and pours it full of tea, then switches off the burner and brings the mug over to him.

"Still, though."

He takes the mug, wrapping his hands around it, then pauses. "...You're not having any?" He glances towards the livingroom, the sideboard beneath a large gothic painting. "There's scotch in the decanter over there."

"Yeah?" Oh boy, scotch is way more her style than tea. She makes a beeline, bringing the decanter back into the kitchen and pouring herself half a mug's worth. "Thanks. I could spike it with tea, I guess."

Spike the scotch with tea, not spike the tea with scotch. Naturally.

"It's top shelf; that might be a crime," he teases, almost smiling for a moment, then his expression wavers and he looks down into his tea.

Shaw lifts the mug of scotch to her nose, pauses, and then give him a nod, taking it over to the couch sans tea.

"I've had a million comas," she says, as she contemplates her drink. "They're not so bad from the inside. And I've always woken up."

Malcolm slides off his stool and brings his mug over to perch at the far end of the couch.

“When I was getting ready to go to Japan, Will knew I was nervous about leaving without him. He made a bunch of recordings - just mundane stuff: reading snippets of books, reading my affirmation cards… just his own little… silly messages. He put them on my phone. So I wouldn’t feel alone.” He glances up at the ceiling. “I can…” He gestures at his face. “I can smell that he’s here. But he’s also not here. It’s like being in someone’s house when they’re not home.”

Shaw frowns in faint confusion - hadn't he been gone for just a day or two? But this is Malcolm she's talking to; she supposes she isn't all that surprised that the idea of a few days away from Will had freaked him out.

"Okay. Can you, uh..." She leans forward, clasping her mug in both hands. "Can you listen to those recordings now...?"

“I’m going to listen to some of them later. And maybe read to him for a bit. He likes that.”

He glances sidelong at her.

“It was almost a week for me,” he says, only guessing what the hesitation might have been. “He couldn’t do the whole tattoo all at once.”

"Wait, you got a tattoo?" She scoots forward a little more, peering at him, eyes roaming over exposed skin: his hands, the top of his neck.

He turns his head to look at her properly.

“Yeah. It was a gift from Kiryu. Designed and done by the master that did his. …Do you want to see it? …….Or is it going to be weird if I take off my shirt?”

"Not weird. I mean, not for me, anyway. Yeah, I wanna see it."

Malcolm shrugs and puts his tea on the coffee table, standing up and pulling his sweater and t-shirt off over his head. He turns his left shoulder towards her. A detailed red serpent winds up his upper arm from just above the elbow, then up from the back of his shoulder over to the front, where it has the weathered face of a man.

Shaw lets out a low whistle, setting her own mug down so that she can come over and get a better look.

"Pretty intricate for your first. Did you design it?"

“Kiryu’s yakuza tattoo master did, but Kiryu chose the subject - it’s the torch dragon from Chinese and Japanese mythology. He brings the day when he opens his eyes and the night when he closes them. They use his name as a word for ‘bright’. Kiryu gave me the design before he left. Will and I decided where I should get the master to put it before I went there. Kiryu said I could get it anywhere I wanted.”

"Pretty badass, Bright."

She studies it for a second or two longer, than goes to sit back down.

"You think you're gonna get more?"

“Thank you.” He doesn’t put his sweater or t-shirt back on. He picks them up and takes them to the bedroom on the other side of the space. “Probably not,” he tells her in answer to her question, picking up a plaid shirt left tossed over the foot of the bed and shrugging it on. He buttons it as he walks back to the living room. “It’s something Kiryu suggested in one of our talks. To remind me who I am.”

He sits down, picking up his tea, the slightly too long and unbuttoned cuff of the sleeve just missing splashing into it as he reaches for it.

“Plus once you’ve had one from a yakuza tattoo master, I’m not sure where you go from there,” he jokes gamely.

"When I was younger, I got tattoos for milestones I wanted to honor, or people I wanted to honor," Shaw says, sinking back down into the couch with a quiet sigh. "Variations on a theme. So, uh, if you changed your mind and wanted to get more, that could be your theme. Aspects of yourself."

"That's a good reason to do them," Malcolm says. "But I don't think it's really me. That's why I got this one so big. I think it's all I need."

"It must've taken hours. Did the pain really suck?"

"It took ages, yeah, but I have a high pain tolerance and instant healing, so it was fine. Will was worried about touching it at first, but it already didn't hurt at all by the time I got back," he replies.

"Did you get bored, just sitting there waiting? I think I would have."

"I found his technique fascinating, actually. I was pretty well occupied. I'd like to say he had a lot of cool stories to tell, but he actually barely spoke at all. Kiryu says that's normal," Malcolm tells her.

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