Deputy US Marshal Givens (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tinstar) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
villagelogs2020-12-15 06:32 pm
tinstar) wrote in villagelogs2020-12-15 06:32 pm
Watch that your match doesn't hit that bridge
characters: Raylan, Doc and Malcolm
location: 1306 and then, the Chasm
date/time:Afternoon of day 20
content: Bridge building and possibly bad ideas
If there was one thing that Raylan had that didn't get enough love, it was redneck ingenuity. Ever since he'd seen the chasm and what lay beyond, Raylan was plagued by the best part of humanity, curiosity. People had yelled across the crack, thrown things, god knows what else, but Raylan failed to see a single attempt to cross it. He was sure he wasn't the first to have the idea - not with as many smart people around, but he had the goods to act on it. The wood that he'd collected with Max and with Doc separately, hadn't been a small amount of boards, some of which came with their own nails. A little destruction of a framed wall or two gave up little chunks of 2x4 that he figured would work well for support and several hours in the garage with Malcolm had produced a 'bridge' that was about 14 feet long. He wasn't sure it was long enough but they could see.
"Okay, set your end up on that bucket," he instructed Malcolm with a nod at the reinforced wood that they'd nailed together, lifting his own onto his carefully placed bucket. Malcolm had been a big help, making things move more quickly than he could have alone and he'd well put the man to work holding and hammering. "We just gotta see how much it bends under weight."
He hadn't really laid out what the glorified gangplank was for but that didn't matter, right? Didn't matter that he was going to cross the chasm into unknown territory.
"How much do you clock in at?" he asked Malcolm with a jut of his chin. "We can start with you then go onto me. I figure I got at least a good twenty pounds on ya." No, he really didn't.
location: 1306 and then, the Chasm
date/time:Afternoon of day 20
content: Bridge building and possibly bad ideas
If there was one thing that Raylan had that didn't get enough love, it was redneck ingenuity. Ever since he'd seen the chasm and what lay beyond, Raylan was plagued by the best part of humanity, curiosity. People had yelled across the crack, thrown things, god knows what else, but Raylan failed to see a single attempt to cross it. He was sure he wasn't the first to have the idea - not with as many smart people around, but he had the goods to act on it. The wood that he'd collected with Max and with Doc separately, hadn't been a small amount of boards, some of which came with their own nails. A little destruction of a framed wall or two gave up little chunks of 2x4 that he figured would work well for support and several hours in the garage with Malcolm had produced a 'bridge' that was about 14 feet long. He wasn't sure it was long enough but they could see.
"Okay, set your end up on that bucket," he instructed Malcolm with a nod at the reinforced wood that they'd nailed together, lifting his own onto his carefully placed bucket. Malcolm had been a big help, making things move more quickly than he could have alone and he'd well put the man to work holding and hammering. "We just gotta see how much it bends under weight."
He hadn't really laid out what the glorified gangplank was for but that didn't matter, right? Didn't matter that he was going to cross the chasm into unknown territory.
"How much do you clock in at?" he asked Malcolm with a jut of his chin. "We can start with you then go onto me. I figure I got at least a good twenty pounds on ya." No, he really didn't.
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"He stayin' behind to watch just in case then? Maybe for the better. Still don't think anythin's comin' over."
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Raylan wasn’t the only one in their group impulsive enough to try it.
“And he implied he’d annoy Five by... I don’t know. Hovering.”
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"If Five is annoyed by hoverin', he may not appreciate bein' questioned, but if he's there..."
And it wouldn't take them long to get there, Raylan leading the way in to glance around for the small guy that had been camped out on the couch.
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comin' in hot, fellas! summoned from plurk c:
As it happens, they will catch Five on his way out - the camping was over, as it were - with the retrieval of his blazer, moving stiffly across the living room, having teleported himself inside seconds before.
He isn't surprised to see the residents of this house stride through their own front door, exactly, but there is a notable lack of enthusiasm across his youthful face, purpling bruise across his cheekbone.
"Huh," a quiet note - the mother hen wasn't with them. "Just grabbing my things."
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Five was about to get a lot less enthusiastic from here.
"Nah I'm glad we caught ya," Raylan started, tone light and affable as he led in with a long, boney index finger that gestured as he talked. "Henry told us a bit about what you did, but - and forgive me, I know we haven't met properly, Raylan Givens, nice to meet you - but I had some additional questions. Details really," he continued like it was inconsequential as he ambled to a stop, off hand set onto crooked hips. "So I was hopin' we could ask a few questions, get an understandin' of whatever 'rules' you mighta come across."
If there was one thing Five was right about, it was the fact that there was no mother hen here. Raylan was not that kind of man.
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For a moment, he considers blinking the hell out of there, a slow sigh pushed shallowly against the ache of broken bone.
His stare does sharpen when Malcolm mentions the man, and if Five's tension was passive before, it's taut as bowstring now and if he could throw hands with tall, dark and mysterious, he would. "The man — "
"— That asshole wasn't there when I tried." He leans himself on whatever the nearest solid object is. "And gee, what happened? I made it to other side and got swatted off by nothing. Punchline of a shit chicken joke."
"And why do you want to know, exactly? Getting a slingshot ready?"
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"So you popped over and were knocked back. Immediately? All the way to the other side, I'm guessin'? It show up after? Come out at all?"
When someone asked for 'details', what one would get back always varied. Some people just weren't geared to offer the level of detail he was looking for on the outset.
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Which is fair, if you take the irritation and the irrationality of pain aside. Five takes a beat, with a set jaw and a grind of teeth, and forces himself to think critically. Alright. Fine, they were after details, for god only know what reason. He could guess, though. They were stuck trying to figure this shit out as much as him. As much as everyone else.
So if they wanted to test the immovable force out themselves? Far be it for him to stop them with cryptic bullshit.
“That’s right. Popped on over, simple spatial displacement,” his smile is quick and serrated, mouth popping at the consonants. Simple teleportation! No big! “Something shoved me off seconds later and yeah, I cleared the whole damn thing.” Talk about express delivery, right? His attention is split between the two of them again. "I don't know what it was, on account of it being invisible. And I don't know enough about 'magic' to be able to tell you if someone was screwing around with it."
Another sigh, head tipping back to blink bleakly up at the ceiling. "Like I said. No one was around on that side. I saw the mystery man the next day."
A long, drawn out beat. “My advice? For whatever you two - or three - are currently planning? Don’t. You'll live longer.”
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His own lips curled up in an echo of the humor that clearly wasn't there, an answer to the passing smile. Oh yeah, sure. No big deal. Blessed thing about the country was that some things could be taken as is - He understood the idea and didn't feel any need to understand science he'd never use. Science, not magic, made clear by the rest of Five's answer.
"No mechanical means, no offerin' of good will, no slow and easy." Raylan gestured at Five like that explained it all. "Popped right on over!" Wasn't that a neat fact. Despite the casual, affable tone that the words came with, there was an underlying tension that suggested it was anything but. There was a Point under there.
Raylan looked back at Five. "Thanks for the information. Hope the couch wasn't total shit, and its open to ya next time you need a night or two to look less like shit. I got a bottle of moonshine to get." Well. Half a bottle.
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“Thank you,” he told Five sincerely before slipping past him to nip at the lanky cowboy’s heels.
“Wh... Raylan what... what are you going to do?”
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And all that appreciation of having this house open to him may be all well and good - and beneath the brittle temper and irritation, there might be relief in knowing he can show up without the risk of having another magnet thrown at his head, but that relief is buried deep, deep down.
Instead, Five groans as they both turn away, as they both start heading out, and for all the certainty that whatever they were heading out to do was a shit idea, Five really sometimes can't help himself.
He teleports himself around them, a blur of spacetime, all crooked angles as he peers up, hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Yeah, I'm real curious too, cowboy. What the hell are you two planning?"
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Raylan took a deep, calming breath through his nose before his weight shifted forward a little as one hand propped on his hip, the other gesturing out lightly at Five as he answered the both of them.
"Look. Where I come from, you have a problem with local power, you take a bottle of your best whiskey and you have a parlay. You don't pop over for a look around, you don't chuck fireballs at the house. You act civil." His divided attention returned to Five with a lift of his finger. "And I ain't sayin' that a quick ride over is a bad idea, but it didn't work out to well from what I can tell. So I'm gonna go grab a bottle of that moonshine and take a walk across a bridge, see if we can't find somethin' out, if you will kindly get the hell outta my way."
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