026 》sweet troubled man are you giving or taking?

[thering]

characters: Malcolm, Neal, Negan, Raylan, Doc
location: 1306 Phillips Dr
date/time: day 26 morning
content: the reset Playstation button was pressed
warnings: tbd

After the strangeness of the past two nights they were likely fully expecting to awaken in the same strange, different, not-so-new anymore places they found themselves in in the past two days.

Instead everything seems to have reset, again. The three permanent residents and two guests are back in 1306, exactly where they had been two nights ago. Malcolm was in his own room, Neal was in Doc's and Negan in Raylan's master bedroom. The two displaced cowboys are downstairs sharing one too-small couch, a night of drinking culminating in fighting over couch space and who gets to be the bigger spoon.

The fire in the fireplace had gone out and their Winter 2020 Collection of bespoke lanterns have vanished, but nothing else seems to be awry.

Comments

[tinstar]

"Clearly you missed train for murder. So long as none of us sprouted any holes," he rumbled in response with a bit of a groan as he pushed himself up onto his elbows to take a glance around the living room. Nothing seemed out of place - it hadn't been ransacked or shot up. Perks. With a sigh out his nose, Raylan shifted up to an upright position and tugged the throw blanket around his shoulders.

He'd woken up in what he'd gone to sleep in - jeans and his undershirt, but he would have liked his boots on, if there was anything up there listening; it was cold as shit.

"Wasn't dark where I was but the rest..." He took a deep breath and laid his head back, slouching into the couch. Nope, not ready to be upright, but he'd made it this far and he couldn't go back to laying down now. He might not get back up again.

[thering]

"Lord knows a great many people have tried," Doc mutters with a sad little laugh. It's a little sad really that for all the wild encounters that he had survived, it would be tuberculosis that would have put him down in the end. If there was a sad, angry, bitter little man upstairs then he did have a sense of humour at least.

"The power went out," Doc explains. He'll come around to explaining the other details later. It is too early to be putting on a grandiose talk about the past two days, and he probably would wait until they had a bigger audience so he didn't need to repeat himself.

It takes three broken matches to get the fire started but once it's lit he pokes at it to get the bigger pieces of wood to catch on. One look at their stockpile of salvaged wood and it's fairly obvious that they will be needing an axe to get through the winter, but that is another worry for another time when they're a little less sluggish and a little less spooked.

"Are you alright, Raylan?" Doc casts a sidelong glance over towards him. He's just tired, himself, and it feels like the kind of tired you get when you've had too much rest, but not hung over like Raylan is.

[tinstar]

Raylan didn't doubt that. If he could have more than four people vying for his own murder at the same time in modern times, he could only imagine the damage he could have done 'back in the day'. So there was no telling how many people someone like Doc got in his wake.

Raylan grunted from his spot, happy to wait til later so everyone could hear it at once. There was nothing more irritating than having to repeat yourself again and again so everyone got the story. "Least you started with power, that's not nothin'," he said. Knowing Doc's issues as he does, waking up in the dark was probably worse than having to go back to it sans power.

At the question, Raylan took a deep breath and sighed it out. "Same as you - no holes, I've got all my limbs. I'm fine. Nothin' a few hours of not thinkin' about it won't fix." The things that disquited him only really disquited him when he was still and in his bed. That was many many hours away, so he'd deal with it then.

"Got myself a hellva hangover workin' up though. Whiskey's a fickle lady."

[thering]

"You had whiskey?" Doc perks up like a dog's head lifting at the sound of the rustling of the treat bag who was otherwise content with just lying lifeless on the floor.

"I don't think you get to complain about whatever happened over the last two days if you had whiskey," he quips lightheartedly as he makes his way back to the couch once the fire is going steady, sliding into the seat next to Raylan's. He isn't awake or lucid enough to hesitate or deliberate over whether he's sitting too close or too far or maybe he should take Raylan's chair or just not sit down at all, where to put his hands and all the rest of it.

A comfortable silence settles between them and gives way only to the spittle and crackle of the wood going up in flames. In that moment it didn't seem necessary to say that he appreciates being back here in familiar company. They communicate through looks, nods, snickers, sighs, and occasionally if they're sitting close enough, reassuring and reaffirming little knee bumps.

[tinstar]

"I tried to bring some home for you, I promise," he replied, the exhaustion of everything in his voice as he watched Doc from his half lidded station. "Though between Constantine and I, we mighta drunk it all."

He wouldn't put it past them. Unmoving as Doc settled on the couch next to him, Raylan ruminated on the feeling of having the company that understood him without knowing everything about him. It was nice, their communication and he'd even argue that it was nice to have the fleeting contact. He'd long stopped keeping count, but his well was far from full.

"'m glad you're back," he mumbled after several minutes of them sitting there. He didn't have to say he was worried about Doc, that was implied in the statement. They weren't going to talk about how they'd woken up but that too, was implied in the statement.

[thering]

"I am sure you did," he quips right back with no malice in his tone. Maybe he's a little jealous, but he'll get over it. He doesn't think that anyone got their tropical island paradise getaway while the others were left to suffer.

"You're getting sentimental, old man," Doc teases with a playful knee bump and a smile he can't keep off his face. Not that he minds hearing such kind words. There was a time he didn't think he would be missed.

"Better wake up before you profess your love."

this work for transition?

[tinstar]

"Shuddup," Raylan grumbled back to all of it, but the edges of his lips curled.

Upstairs, they could both hear the shuffle of someone moving around, though it stopped after a second, earning only a glance up of Raylan's attention. "That scratchy shit better not start here too-"

But it was only Malcolm.