Voicemail (IC Contact Post) NEW

[abrightboy]

This is Bright. Leave a message.

Comments

[empathicfault]

Will smiles back, blinking sleepily at Malcolm. "Good morning. You rea-"

His sentence is interrupted by the sudden addition of a pack of Twizzlers, crinkling onto the bedsheets between them. It's a sealed pack, plastic-wrap intact, and Will just stares at it like it's insulted him.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm sees it and pushes himself up onto his elbows, looking Will over with amusement.

"Where were you hiding that?" he asks, endeared.

[empathicfault]

"I wasn't," Will replies, mildly amused. He picks it up, checks it over, and then holds it out for Malcolm. It seems normal, but that's strange in and of itself here. Hmmm.

As he looks up and into Malcolm's eyes, he finds himself laughing. "Seriously, I don't know where it came from."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm grins and rolls onto one elbow, facing Will, so he can open the package and take out a Twizzler. He gives Will an impish look and then takes a bite. "My favorite breakfast, right after your scrambled eggs," he teases.

[empathicfault]

Will laughs. Eyes twinkling, he replies, "Don't lie. I know the eggs come in second place."

A bright blue feather blows out from Will's mouth. It lands on Malcolm's cheek and it's unsurprisingly soft. What is surprising, however? The comforting warmth emanating from it.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm grins, absently plucking the feather from his cheek, distracted by all the happy Will for a moment.

“Only if you bring the Twizzlers,” he retorts with a grin. The sunlight from his window seems brighter… except it doesn’t seem to be coming from the window; it’s coming from him, or close to him, at least.

He looks at the feather grasped between his thumb and fore finger. “…This isn’t Sunshine’s.”

[empathicfault]

Will's head tilts as he pulls himself up on his elbow and looks at the held feather more closely. "It isn't. That's a bluebird feather. Haven't seen one of those in a while."

He's in full Analysis Mode now, looking entirely interested in this weirdness in front of him. "So I've been mildly cursed, or...this is a flood, probably." The autopsy report for Elise Nichols drops to the bed- again, from his mouth- with a satisfying 'thwack'.

Will looks from the report up to Malcolm with an amused (if slightly helpless) smile.

[abrightboy]

“A flood where you literally produce something related to what you’re… feeling? Or, maybe, more like what you’re communicating. This feather is warm to the touch and bluebirds are symbolic of happiness.” He grins at Will coyly. “Not that I need that to tell when you’re happy at this point. You have very distinct m…” While he’s talking, what appears to be a human eyeball appears near his mouth and drops onto the bed between them. He frowns his inquiring minds frown and leans a little closer to peer at it. “Well. That’s different.” His gaze strays to the autopsy report. “Who’s Elise Nichols?”

[empathicfault]

Will reaches out to touch the feather as soon as Malcolm mentions it being warm. As he feels that, he smiles, amazed he could somehow produce something so nice and--

Well. That's an eyeball. It doesn't look like it's wet and the iris of it is beautiful. Will leans in to try and make out more details, his head nearly bumping against Malcolm's. He's somewhat lost in thought, but Malcolm's question pulls him out.

"Elise was Garret Jacob Hobbs' second-to-last victim, and what got me into the Minnesota Shrike case. My first time working with Jack. My first time meeting Hannibal." He wonders, too late, if he shouldn't discuss things from home. Especially Hannibal.

But nothing happens, at least for now. He continues with his interpretation, building off of Malcolm's guess on this flood. "It's the beginning of a mystery, full of possibilities. I'm pushed into it but find myself enjoying the hunt for answers. And you..." He gestures to the eye, "You're seeking insight? Or...communicating your observations."

[abrightboy]

"Trying to... see," Malcolm notes. "There's no optic nerve... nowhere one would have been attached, but..." He picks it up in his fingers. "It feels real." JT would have asked him how he knew that. He holds it up for Will to see better. "A real eye that's never been anyone's eye."

[empathicfault]

"Never. But it could've been yours. The color's spot on." Will has spent more than enough time staring into Malcolm's eyes to know. He does so again now, looking absolutely adoring.

But well, he's getting distracted, and this flood at least seems rather fun. "We should preserve it. Although I admit- I don't know how to do that..." Surely someone on this boat does. "Think it'll last until after coffee?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm grins. "If it doesn't, I'll probably make more," he says impishly, setting the eye in Will's palm and giving him a kiss before clambering over him to pad over to the kitchen to start the coffee.

[empathicfault]

Will kisses Malcolm back with fervor, taking the eye and looking it over for imperfections- relative to Malcolm's actual eyes, of course. Will stretches out, eye being raised over his head-- and then the dogs are on the bed, joining Will now that they know everyone's awake.

"Hey! Hey, good morning, guys," Will says, giving each one a good rub in turn. After he's done with Buster and has moved onto Winston, he adds, "You guys are lucky, you don't have to worry about the floods. They nev-" Oh, there's a small pile of dog toys growing, including a tug rope and little plush versions of each of the dogs. Will laughs.

"Okay, I'm not minding this flood so much. So far," he adds, and finishes rubbing he dogs down. His murmurs spawn a couple more dog bones, but he doesn't seem to mind. It's not long until he's up and joining Malcolm in the kitchen. "If I make eggs, will you eat them? Or is this a Twizzler-only breakfast?"

[abrightboy]

"I will definitely eat eggs if you make them," Malcolm says with a smile, pouring water into the french press. Little paper hearts flutter onto the counter.