LOG - July Catch-All/TDM Prompts (OPEN)

[conning]

Who: Neal and VARIOUS PEOPLE, POSSIBLY INCLUDING YOU?
When: Throughout July
Where: All around Gloucester
Summary: TDM prompts, as well as some other stuff, will get more specific as I write them.
Warnings: Nothing big at the moment tho lord knows that's bound to change. Scopophobia, paranoia, the issues mentioned in the TDM prompts.

Comments

➥ I should call it a day and make my way; oh, it grips me - closed to Malcolm

[conning]

Neal returns to B1 from his first appointment with ADI’s mental health care people with a frown on his face and a folder in one hand that he tosses on the counter as soon as he reaches the kitchen.



Then he stands there, glaring at it slightly, like it might open itself and start saying things he doesn’t want to hear.

He's upset, clearly. He's upset--Tim is gone, Meredith is gone, Ainsley is gone, and he hasn't seen Jeff now since they all got back to Gloucester. None of the people in the homeless groups he's mostly avoided talking to (for their sakes) when leaving supplies behind has seen him, either.

He's upset, and right now, he can focus all of that on that stupid file and its contents, and pretend it's the sum total of his concerns.

[abrightboy]

B1 was empty when Malcolm returned to it from Wolf's Pen. Completely empty. Neal said he would move into Meredith's room, but he hadn't known how long a transfer would take. He'd expected Tim to be there, though. But he wasn't. He was gone.

Gone like Meredith. Ainsley.

Gil.

Neal got the paperwork through fast, though, and was there by the end of the day. Luckily. Before Malcolm could get too far inside his own head.

He hears Neal come in from where he's sitting on the couch reading, but footsteps don't follow so, after a moment, he gets up and walks over, leaving his book open and face down on the coffee table.

"Neal?"

[conning]

Neal looks over at Malcolm and his anger softens. He can’t keep his temper up when the other man looks so worried.

“I’m fine,” he says softly, and looks at the folder again, defiant of its contents.

He wasn’t going to tell Malcolm that he went to the ADI’s therapists, at least not right away. It felt like… admitting to something. He couldn’t put a finger on why. Neal grumbles and turns to put an arm around Malcolm. “I’m all right. I promise.”

[abrightboy]

There’s a lie in there, but Malcolm lets himself be gathered against Neal’s side.

“Did something happen at work?” Both their departments have been helping with perimeter patrols around Dogtown. “You’re…” He frowns, studying Neal’s face. “Concerned about something.”

[conning]

Neal considers kissing Malcolm as a distraction. He considers telling him a half-truth or sidelong lie.

"No. Not at work." A pause, and he presses his lips together in an expression that's almost prim in its disapproval. "I... when we left Wolf Pen I decided to talk to someone in the ADI's mental healthcare department. I had my intake today. It didn't... It wasn't what I expected, that's all."

[abrightboy]

"Oh," Malcolm says in relief. "In what way? Have you ever been to a therapist before?"

Because this is Malcolm's wheelhouse.

[conning]

"No," Neal says, then pauses. "Well, not really. Once, but it was... I was working with the FBI as part of a sting."

He smiles crookedly. "She drugged me."

[abrightboy]

"I assume you don't mean 'gave you medication'," Malcolm clarifies.

[conning]

"Unless 'Goodnight Cinderella' is FDA approved in your world, no." He draws Malcolm away from the kitchen, back to the couch. "What're you reading?"

➥ Birdswatching || OTA (TDM prompt - scopophobia; paranoia; unnatural animals)

[conning]

Neal is more than glad to leave his shift on patrol behind. He's never been a nature guy--give him a big city any day of the week--so Dogtown in and of itself isn't his preferred hangout spot. At to that the clearly escalated weirdness that must have taken place while they were in Wolf Pen and it's somewhere Neal really does not, in fact, want to be.

The silent birds don't help. They really don't help when they start talking to each other just out of sight.

Neal has trouble keeping up a facade of casual friendliness when he's back in Gloucester proper. Every twitter, every burst of noise as pigeons take flight, is another reminder that the animals are all around him. He doesn't have a problem with birds normally, but now he can't shake the feeling that there's something wrong with them. Something watching through them. Something wrong with him, maybe, even.

The feeling is pervasive, and after every Dogtown shift, it gets worse and lasts longer.

Whether you come across him during a shared shift or elsewhere, his usual easy smile and friendly greeting are nowhere to be found. If he usually brings you coffee or snacks or asks how you're doing, well. He hasn't in a little while. What's with that? And why is he watching you that way?

[bindlestifflost]

George has been working a fence construction shift ever since their return. He'd be lying if he said the weirdness of the birds didn't have him squirrely as a bird dog in winter. Having the steady, repetitive work helps, though, as does knowing not everyone on the construction crew knows what the people employed by ADI know. He has gotten good at putting a normal face on the abnormal and pretending he doesn't see what's obvious. That they're all being watched. That the birds are connected to each other in ways they shouldn't be.

Isn't it likely it's payback? Or the beginning of it?

When he has called out twice to Neal and received no response, he pats the shoulder of his post digging partner. "I'll be back in a few," he says.

Gloved thumbs hooked in his pockets, he approaches in his construction gear and an ADI ballcap. "Neal? You awwright?"

[conning]

Neal flinches away from George in surprise. Catches himself, forces a breathy laugh. It doesn’t sound convincing even to him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Wondering what we’re walling off, wondering if it might be better not to ask.”

[bindlestifflost]

He stops a bit more distant from him than he normally would. That squirrely body language tells him enough, and he's sensitive to these sorts of things from his life back home. Knowing when to give a man space. Knowing how to keep tensions low when he can. Or as low as possible under the circumstances.

"Yeah, I ain't sure myself," he says, rubbing a work glove at the back of his neck. "Been noticing the birds actin' weird."

Said birds are present in numbers at the tree line, clustered in the branches and watching both of them. Listening. He feels the pressure of it, mouth pressing a firm line. "Bastards."

[conning]

Neal lets out a noise of relief when George mentions the birds. He glances at them, or starts to, then stops himself and looks at George instead. Like if he acknowledges their watchers, something might happen. And it might. Who knows.

"So it's not just me. They're actually doing that."

[bindlestifflost]

"Nah, it ain't jes' you. It's one reason I put in to work the fence. Some a' these fellas are jes' contractors." He glances over his shoulder to make sure no workers are also in distance to eavesdrop.

"Wanted to keep an eye out for 'em while trying to get more pictures and footage." He's gotten pretty decent at the phone, even if he doesn't like it all that much. It's a tool like any other. "It's been real weird." Hard not to lose himself to too much paranoia, especially when the birds in town seem to be acting off, too.

"What brung you out this way?"

[conning]

Neal nods, appreciating George's instincts and willingness to be out here for others. He drags in a breath and sighs. "I'm with the security team. I've been doing shifts on patrol."

A pause, and then he adds more of the truth. Malcolm has been rubbing off on him. "I'm not on duty right now though. I just... I keep feeling like they're talking about us behind our backs, and I want to catch them at it. See if I can record it."

[bindlestifflost]

He notices the clarification, a bit of an appreciative flicker in his quick eyes. He always prefers honesty. "I get that. I mean...I been feelin' a similar way about 'em. Can't tell if that's 'cause we got good instincts, and they is, or if it's more a' them mind tricks."

He pulls a kerchief out of his back pocket to wipe his face. He's been out in the sun a while now. "Trouble is, them little bastiches can always see you comin'. They got that high ground." He's not sure how they could surprise them, because there are plenty of night birds that can see in the dark just fine, too.

"Wonder if we can catch one." Would it act different? Would it be unsafe to bring it inside?

[conning]

Neal eyes the animals in the trees, shivering a little. "It could be worth trying..."

There's a part of him that wonders if the rest wouldn't swoop down and mob them if they managed to get their hands one one. "Have you ever trapped birds before? I wouldn't have any idea where to start."

Re: ➥ Birdswatching || OTA (TDM prompt - scopophobia; paranoia; unnatural animals)

[the_archivist]

Jon is intimately familiar with being watched. It had been a presence for years, growing from just during the times he was recording a statement, to something inside his head, that door holding back the ocean. And then of course the world had ended and the Eye saw everything all of the time, and he did too. Mostly.

The birds staring are still eerie. Birds aren't supposed to stare like that. But Jon also recognises that feeling, the prickle at the back of neck, the intense feeling of being watched as he patrols the edges of Dogtown.

"Oh fuck off," he mutters as he turns a corner, not particularly paying attention. "If you want something then actually tell me."

He knows it doesn't work like that, not really. The Eye knows everything, but doesn't understand anything.

sorry for the delay on this!!

[conning]

Neal is heading the opposite direction, but he's close enough to catch the words as Jon turns the corner. His stomach does an uneasy little somersault. "I can't decide if them starting to talk to us at this point would be better or worse."

It's not a joke.

Re: sorry for the delay on this!!

[the_archivist]

Jon startles a little when the other man speaks, and gives a sheepish little smile. He should really watch himself, talking in public. People might get ideas.

"It wouldn't be the strangest thing, at least," Jon says. "I think some of it might depend how they speak."

again, sorry for the lag--I'm moving next week and in the last leg of preparation

[conning]

Neal makes a noise of agreement at that. He studies the other man's face for a moment, trying to place him. He's been making a habit of learning names lately, whether he's met people or not. One of the benefits of mid-level security access.

"Jonathan Sims, right?" He offers his hand. "Neal Caffrey."

No worries at all!

[the_archivist]

Jon looks a little surprised at that. You'd think he would be used to being recognised by now, after being the VIP of the apocalypse. But not here.

He manages a small smile and shakes the offered hand. "Yes, that's me. I didn't realise I'd reached levels of notoriety."

[conning]

Neal lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I’ve been trying to make a point of knowing who’s around. Who’s like us.”

That last bit is said with a bleaker tone than he intends. Neal clears his throat. “The way people come and go, I like being able to tell if I haven’t seen someone in a while. And who they are.”

[the_archivist]

"Like us? People dragged in from other worlds, you mean?" Or something more sinister?

Or just people working for ADI?

"Ah, that does make sense. Hopefully they just end up where they were before." Does he believe that?

Absolutely not. Nothing with the entities is ever that kind.