A handkerchief held all my gear (OPEN LOG Catch-all April)

[bindlestifflost]

Who: George Milton and ???
When: Most of April
Where: In ADI, on the grounds, and Gloucester proper
Summary: George is familiarizing himself with his new environment and is never content to be in one place for too long.
Warnings: Possibly some of the eye flower weirdness if anyone wants to do a fair/festival prompt, possibly drinking to excess, will update if needed and also warn in individual thread headers.

1. Home Sweet Home?

It's weird, having such a huge space just to himself and maybe two other folks. For now it seems like it's just Nick, and well, he could have done a whole lot worse. Settling in is always a little awkward. He didn't have much of anything to put away. That took no time at all.

So now he's sitting on the sofa in the common room fiddling with the phone, not because he likes it or particularly wants to but because it has been emphasized so much as important, he'd be a fool not to keep at it. He's less outwardly or visibly frustrated working on it alone, just grunting and muttering to himself off and on as he fat fingers his typing or has trouble making one of the apps do what it's supposed to.

He doesn't know how long he has been at it. Long enough for his butt to be sore and his legs to feel like they could use a good stretching when there's a knock at the door. Immediately, he tucks the phone in his jacket pocket as he stands and crosses to it.

"Who's there?" His voice is deep and sharp enough to carry through the wood just fine.

2. The Library

The short guy sitting at the computer terminal doesn't much look like he belongs there. He's staring very intently at the monitor, his typing a painfully slow hunt and peck style. He seems to be trying to research basic history of the region, currently on one of the local government pages of helpful links.

Every now and then he awkwardly moves or clicks the mouse, often followed by a low, "Dammit," or, "No, not you. I want...you." He's so engrossed in the work that he doesn't react at first to the person who comes in behind him. It's only when he hears a definitive noise that he jumps a little and whips his head around, looking almost guilty.

"Sorry. Did you need this?" He's not completely sure he ought to be here, and it shows.

3. The Grounds

At various locations around the grounds, a short, slight man in a brimmed work hat can be spotted wandering and familiarizing himself with the area. He has a fast, no-nonsense gait, like somebody used to being on his feet, and he's never in any one place for very long. When spoken to, he touches his hat brim and gives a nod. He's fine with stopping to chat, especially if he has already met you, but even if he hasn't, he won't brush off a friendly overture.

4. The General's Store

George's voice is increasingly strident as he argues with the beleaguered cashier behind the register. "An' I'm tellin' you 50 bucks for a plain ol' fishin' pole is highway robbery. Not to mention you ain't even including tackle or bait in that. I ain't gonna stand here and let you swindle me. You been swindlin' everybody who works at ADI? That it?"

"Sir, if you'd just..."

"Don't you sir me. Do I look like a sir? Jes' admit you're doing people dirty. I'll tell you what. You put all a' that mess back on the shelf. I don't want none of it. I wouldn't take it if you paid me." Without another word, he's storming for the door.

5. A Bar at the Docks

It took long enough to find the kind of place with the vibe he was looking for, nothing too fancy, just a hole in the wall with beat up barstools and an older woman behind the bar who seems happy enough not to ask too many questions. Like everything else in this damned town, the price of the drinks is sky high. By this point he doesn't care.

He's seated belly up at the far end of the bar pounding gin like there's a run on it, and he may have found the last bottle. There's a certain fixed quality to his thousand yard stare. Hard to tell if he recognizes you or not if you approach.

6. Wildcard!

((OOC: Bring your own prompt, or feel free to use some of the fair prompts from the TDM. George would be playing any number of games there. If you have any questions or want to run something by me, you can hit me up at velocinapper, PM, or Disco. Brackets are also fine!))

Comments

[abrightboy]

Malcolm blinks at the change of topic like he was under a spell, but then nods. Always time for a Twizzler. He opens them and holds the bag out to George before taking one himself.

"If you catch the legend fish and eat it, do you get to absorb its cleverness or something?"

[bindlestifflost]

He takes one and pops it in the side of his mouth like a blade of grass then turns back to the pole to give it a few more bobs up and down.

"If I ever manage, I'll let you know. Bet you'll be able to tell quick, too." He snorts a laugh, shaking his head. Talking nonsense isn't so bad when both people get it.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm laughs too. "I'll have to devise a test for imparted fish wisdom," he says, taking a bite of licorice and bobbing his line like George did. "Something that involves measuring cunning in avoiding traps and knowing when a big piece of food is too good to be true."

[bindlestifflost]

"I'm afraid that's one that'd snap me up every time." He's been hungry enough in his life that an abundance of food would never go to waste. He takes another bite of the candy and chews thoughtfully.

"Things go the way they's looking like they's shaking out, this may be the fist place I stick around long enough to find out that kind of thing."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm looks over.

"Do you think this place is better than where you were?"

He only asks, because he's happier here and he knows that's not the popular opinion.

[bindlestifflost]

"Ain't been here long enough to tell," he says with a shrug.

"Way I reckon, most places ain't better or worse. Jes' different. Different's hard until you get some time to get used to it. Ask me again in a couple a' months." He imagines it'll take about that long for him to settle in a bit.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm nods. That’s reasonable and fair. He pauses, then decides to confess “I was relieved, when I got here. The situation at home had gotten… bad.”

[bindlestifflost]

"Yeah?" He eases a glance sideways. It's the kind of open ended tone that says a man can talk if he wants, or not talk, and either way, George is fine with it.

As the angle of the sun starts changing, he tips his hat lower over his eyes and settles back further on an elbow, one knee cocking up, the other leg straightening out. He chews the last of the Twizzler at a leisurely pace before swallowing and reaching for his soda to wash it down. The chirring of insects is lulling, something similar enough to back home, he's starting to relax for real. A rarity.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm presses his lips together, looking at George sidelong. He takes a sip of his soda. He bobs his bait.

“I stabbed my father right before I came here,” he blurts out like his ability to stop himself finally wore through. “He escaped from prison, but I found him and when I tried to turn him in, he decided the last resort was to kill me and I managed to grab his wrist and redirect his blade into him.” He looks at George. “I don’t know whether he survived. I don’t even know which outcome would actually be better.”

[bindlestifflost]

That gets his full attention. He sets the soda can aside and sits back up, pinning the rod under one of his feet in his cross-legged position just so that if a fish tries to take off with it, it won't be fifty bucks down the drain. "Jesus." It's low, his expression concerned.

"That's a helluva thing to be forced to sit on." The only thing worse for him after shooting Lennie would possibly be not knowing if he even succeeded in killing him or not. It's the kind of thing to keep a man up at night. Drive him to drink. Worse.

He lets out a long low breath. "Ain't none a' that your fault. You know that, right?"

[abrightboy]

"...Intellectually," Malcolm concedes. "I've been told that for most of my life. But... I still had blood on my hand when I got here. I still have the knife. I know there was no other way to survive, but... I don't... know if I could have done something differently before that moment. I was trying to save him. He didn't believe me, but I was trying to save him. He can't live out in the world. But if the Marshals found him, they'd shoot him on sight. If I took him in, he could live."

[bindlestifflost]

There it is again, that heaviness in his chest, and he's starting to wonder if that's just what being friends with this fella is going to be, a lot of up and down and uncomfortable unspoken kinship and understanding.

"Yeah. Know what you mean about knowin' something with your head but it don't make no nevermind to how you feel about it. If you could'a done something different, if you'd knowed, you would've done something different. 'Course you would've." He shakes his head. "I don't think there's no way to make yourself settled about it. Gotta work through your system on its own time." He hates it a little bit when he says things he needs to hear and can't listen to.

[abrightboy]

"My friends all told me I should let them kill him," Malcolm says softly. "That I should let him go and then I could have my own life. But I couldn't do it."

[bindlestifflost]

He shakes his head. "That's your old man. Ain't many can turn their backs on their pappy, even when he's an evil sum'bitch doesn't deserve them. You'd a' done that, you'd a' regretted it the rest a' your life. Not sure about these friends a' yours, but I ain't knowed you more 'n a few days, and I can see that."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm smiles down at his knees.

"I think you've got me pretty well figured out," he concedes. "They... wanted to help me. They did. But they don't understand me. Not really. They can't conceive of hating what someone is and still wanting to love some part of them. They can't conceive that... I'm not sure I know who I am if he doesn't exist."

[bindlestifflost]

"Ain't too hard. You wear it all right there." He gestures vaguely at his face. Lennie was like that, too. Damn, but Lennie'd have been following Malcom around like a big, dumb puppy within a few minutes of talking to him. He's sure of it.

"My old man... He was hard, and he was a drinker. Meanest sum'bitch you ever wanted to meet with a half gallon or so a' gin in him. When he went off to the war, I thought, 'Good riddance.' When he didn't come back..." He twitches a shrug. "Well, I sure wished I never thought that. I get it."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm nods and stares thoughtfully out at the water for a few minutes, then he looks over at George.

"My dad was a great dad. Until he wasn't. I think part of the problem is that... I remember when he was my dad. Before I knew he was the Surgeon. But I also remember finding out."

[bindlestifflost]

"That's rough. 'Specially when you's a kid. You don't know nothin' except what they show you. Even if he was fakin' it the whole time, it was real to you. How old was you when you found out?" For all that he's paying attention to the pole now, the biggest fish East of the Mississippi could come along and yank it away. He wouldn't know until it was too late.

[abrightboy]

“I was ten. I found a girl in a travel trunk in our basement, in my dad’s hobby room. He drugged me. He drugged me for… I don’t know how long. So I’d forget. I still only have fragments of memories of that time. But my head cleared at some point and I called the police.” He smiles self-consciously. “I thought I was saving her. I thought it was the same night.”

[bindlestifflost]

It explains some things, he thinks. All he says is, "Shit, Malcolm. That's a heavy load for a little kid. Ain't no kid should ever go through nothin' like that." It's worse than the everyday poverty, beatings, alcoholism that are run of the mill in his part of the world. It's like something out of the papers.

"Trouble always seems to do one a' two things to a man. Makes him better or makes him mean." He reckons he got a bit of both of it, himself.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm looks over at him.

“That’s right,” he agrees. “That’s true.” It wasn’t technical terms, but what George said is correct. “Is that what made you so nice?”

[bindlestifflost]

"Naw." He looks back out to the cork, hand back on the pole. A deep frown tugs the edges of his mouth. "Trouble made me mean."

His chin dips just a little bit, brow furrowed under his hat. "Guess you could say a friend a' mine brought me 'round." He can't talk about it more than that. Not right now. It's frozen in him deeper than he can dig it out.

And it's a sorry tale besides.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm smiles warmly at him.

"The best people in our lives bring out our best selves," he remarks.

[bindlestifflost]

"Yeah." He plucks a grass blade and threads it between his molars for a chew. "I reckon they do. Starting to think we may not have any luck in this place. Ain't had more than a bait stealer nibble. That's usually a sign by now. You want to move on downstream a little or think about heading back?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm looks over at his bobber and then looks at George.

"Is there any real point to trying somewhere else today?"