apocalypsehowcomm | log - too tired for title whee - closed to B1 and A4, open to those likely to wander by

Who: B1: Closed to Neal and residents; A4: open to B1 and those who wish to poke their heads in because socializing and open doors
When: Early September--on a Sunday and then the following Wednesday. Why the following Wednesday? Idk man I just picked something.
Where: B1 on Sunday, and A4 on Wednesday IG???
Summary: Meredith invited Neal to visit, and Neal suggested making it a mingle for both apartments. Then Malcolm invited Neal over and Neal decided to do a solo trial run or something like that.
Warnings: Not at the moment. ~~except possibly meredith giving neal a shovel talk~~

B1 - SUNDAY

Okay, well, he meant to make it simple. But then he got carried away, because that's who he is as a person. So here is Neal managing two coolers, one slightly smaller than the other. He has to set one down in order to knock on the door.

The coolers themselves contain tiny servings of about a dozen different dishes, from tiny seasoned steak slices of varying doneness to little onigiri stuffed with lightly salted salmon. If it's stupidly elaborate, feel free to assume there is some dressed-down (read: locally available) version available in miniature.

The other cooler has small bottles of cheap wine and those little paper cups that barely hold a mouthful. He sets the wines with the foods that pair best.

Look this is who he is as a person, okay? At least he's dressed normally--turquoise sweater, close-cut jeans.

[ SUPPLY ACTIVITIES AS YOU WISH, both with Neal and each other. ]

B1/A4/Passerby - FOLLOWING WEDNESDAY

Okay, so the tiny food was a bit much. Only God can judge him.

At least this time it's a plain old cook-out with a grill on the patio of A4. Yes, the grill items include salmon, chicken, and... tofu in several marinades including citrus-chipotle.

Only God can judge him.

There's also a spread of perfectly ordinary salad-shaped objects and tiny pickles et cetera inside on the kitchen counter.

[ SUPPLY ACTIVITIES AS YOU WISH, both with Neal and each other. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When Meredith came back in from the patio, Malcolm held out a glass of sparkling water for her.

"How's the grill going?" he asks, his eyes lingering on Neal on the other side of the glass before returning to her.

"Hot."

She has the good sense to look a little guilty--she knew Malcolm didn't want her talking to Neal about him.

The expression catches his attention.

"...Um. What... were you talking about?"

"Oh, you know. Roommates. Our histories. Nothing too-too deep."

It's fine, Malcolm. Fine.

Malcolm nods, gesturing towards the patio.

"He's nice, right?"

What does she think about him?

"He's ruthlessly smart and observant." Sure, he'd called her that first, but game recognizes game. "I pity anyone who thinks to corner him. I don't doubt that he'd drop the nice the moment it ceased to be useful to him. But it's not fake, either."

Oh, did Malcolm actually want this kind of assessment?

It matches much of what he's observed himself.

"He's used to doing what he has to to survive."

A survivor recognizes a survivor too.

"But he wants... a better life than that."

"I don't think here's going to be a suitable place to find it. The circumstances require us to be sharp. And he particularly doesn't seem to trust our benevolent employers."

But who does, honestly?

“Nobody trusts a well funded corporate entity,” Malcolm points out. He glances out and then looks at Meredith, lowering his voice. “Listen, you didn’t… bring up the thing you noticed on Sunday, right?”

She pauses, then sighs. "I'm sorry. I wanted to be sure he wasn't going to hurt you."

Too late, but not in the way she'd expected.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, leaning closer to accommodate his dramatically lowered voice. “What did you tell him?”

"Nothing about you that he didn't already know." She leans in as well, actually resting her forehead against his. "Mostly that you deserve good people in your life. Unfortunately you're stuck here with us, instead."

And then she straightens, both hands resting on the head of her cane.

He processes that for a moment. It isn’t what he was expecting. “Oh.” He thinks about it a moment. “…What did he say?”

"Oh, he didn't disagree. And then he flipped the script on me and asked a really nosy question, and the conversation turned to ADI after a while."

She waves it off, not bringing up the rejection because she doesn't want to rub it in. "We didn't really talk about you, beyond that."

He didn’t disagree. Okay. Good. Malcolm shifts his weight.

“So… do you think he’s really just… not in a dating place or do you think that’s a nice way to tell me he’s just not that into me? Because… that’s what precedent would suggest but… he made all that tiny food because he found out I can’t eat a lot, which was super thoughtful.”

"I think he's very much into you. I also think he's scared of being into you."

She shakes her head. "It's a shield, a defense mechanism. That's what I'm seeing. And maybe not necessarily wholly intended just to protect himself."

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” He shakes his head, huffing a laugh at himself. “It’s stupid, right? I mean. I should… forget about it. Even if he changed his mind, he’d have to start… dealing with my issues. And then he’d leave. He’s being smart. I’m being dumb.”

"Your issues shouldn't be worth leaving you over. And it's not stupid, and you're not being dumb, and..."

She trails off, shaking her head. "He cares enough about you to make sure when you're in his home, there's something you can eat. To invite you to a party like this at all. He wants to be around you, still. What's going on with him, it's internal to him, not a function of you."

“I did tell him we could be friends. Just friends,” Malcolm says. “That’s probably the best thing, right? I mean. We have a lot in common and I like spending time with him.”

Even if it stabs him in the heart a little at the same time.

“Just. Like. If it comes up at some point, you can just tell him I’m over the whole silly crush thing, okay?”

"Don't ask me to lie to him. I'm not good enough to get away with it."

But her smile's back, and she moves to where she can nudge Malcolm with an elbow playfully.

“It’s not…” But he can’t even say the whole lie and it’s definitely a lie. He looks down at the floor, but the nudge drags a small smile out of him. “I’ll get over it. Rejection is very normal for me.”

"Malcolm. Warts and all, you're a catch. I'd have probably made a pass at some point if we weren't roommates." She chuckles, showing no signs of deception.

A catch. Before he came here, he'd never been described that way.

He gives her a wavering smile.

"Nia Lerner told me that people who ended up here were 'just unlucky'. I haven't... felt unlucky."

"Even with all the supernatural weird woogy-woogy stuff we have going on around here?"

Both her eyebrows lift. Part of her kinda wants to ask about what else Nia said, but they're having a moment here. That comes later.

He shrugs a shoulder. “It’s not really that much darker or weirder than serial murder,” he points out. “In fact, when it comes to feeding the Entities, the psychology is very similar, in terms of who’s vulnerable to it and why they get to a point where they can’t stop.”

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