Whatever was going one, Raylan was sure of the cause of it, the heart of it, the root - whatever you wanted to call it, he was sure it was on the other side of the chasm. Call him curious, call him suicidal, call him obsessed - the first place Raylan went after gathering his wits was the chasm. The fucking gap that haunted him and, in a more literal sense, haunted Malcolm. In this in between place - or maybe we should reconsider that Mathis IS hell - he had to hope something was different. That something would give way, let him over, let him see.
It was still there, an ugly rend in the land, mocking him as he strode up to it and stood, hands propped on crooked hips so he could glare at it some more. In death as he was in life, but there was something else missing, Raylan noted several minutes later. The fog. Without hesitation, Raylan picked a direction and started walking.
It took some time, but finally, the trees opened up.
An hour later, he came jogging out of the woods, eager to get the fuck out of dodge with the storm he sensed on the air. For people not used to smelling oncoming trouble, that might have sounded strange, but Raylan had seen and lived through enough storms, tornados and hurricanes to know what the sky was getting ready to give them. Like hell was he getting stuck out here in the darkness with no light of his own. Also, it was bullshit that purgatory had a day and night cycle - the perks of death were far from what he'd been promised.
Peace and quiet.
But Mathis seemed intent on tearing every bit of peace and quiet out of them, piece by piece.
Fire at the Disco
Raylan would have cheered when the Town Hall was hit had he seen it, but he barely got to the edge of the treeline before full dark fell and it was pure memory that had him running in a straight line towards the streets he now knew too well as the sky thundered around him. The sound of it alone drove him faster towards the now burning town.
He wasn't going to run away from this one.
"TO THE BEACH," he yells at the first person he sees. "BEACH OR THE TREES, GO GO."
Raylan kept booking it into town, more concerned about getting people away from the fire, getting back to his own turf, his own people than the fire jumping around him. He had figured the middle of the street would keep him safe, but all it took was a few seconds too long in one spot for the fire to leap out and catch his leg. Raylan stumbled and swore, hands madly grabbing snow and slapping his calf.
It did nothing. The fire seared him into his boot and crawled up him, jumping to his other leg as Raylan started screaming again in short breaths, brain trying to scream for help and not managing the words as he beat uselessly at the flames. In the end all he could do was roll around desperately as he felt his skin frying and breaking, screaming in agony until his lungs and eyes and brain finally collapsed and succumbed to it.
When the fire finally pulls back, what is left of Raylan is unrecognizable outside of the hat that had rolled several feet away and the tin star that could be found if one kicked the ash of his coat away.
This is not the bonfire we requested - OTA
It was still there, an ugly rend in the land, mocking him as he strode up to it and stood, hands propped on crooked hips so he could glare at it some more. In death as he was in life, but there was something else missing, Raylan noted several minutes later. The fog. Without hesitation, Raylan picked a direction and started walking.
It took some time, but finally, the trees opened up.
An hour later, he came jogging out of the woods, eager to get the fuck out of dodge with the storm he sensed on the air. For people not used to smelling oncoming trouble, that might have sounded strange, but Raylan had seen and lived through enough storms, tornados and hurricanes to know what the sky was getting ready to give them. Like hell was he getting stuck out here in the darkness with no light of his own. Also, it was bullshit that purgatory had a day and night cycle - the perks of death were far from what he'd been promised.
Peace and quiet.
But Mathis seemed intent on tearing every bit of peace and quiet out of them, piece by piece.
Fire at the Disco
Raylan would have cheered when the Town Hall was hit had he seen it, but he barely got to the edge of the treeline before full dark fell and it was pure memory that had him running in a straight line towards the streets he now knew too well as the sky thundered around him. The sound of it alone drove him faster towards the now burning town.
He wasn't going to run away from this one.
"TO THE BEACH," he yells at the first person he sees. "BEACH OR THE TREES, GO GO."
Raylan kept booking it into town, more concerned about getting people away from the fire, getting back to his own turf, his own people than the fire jumping around him. He had figured the middle of the street would keep him safe, but all it took was a few seconds too long in one spot for the fire to leap out and catch his leg. Raylan stumbled and swore, hands madly grabbing snow and slapping his calf.
It did nothing. The fire seared him into his boot and crawled up him, jumping to his other leg as Raylan started screaming again in short breaths, brain trying to scream for help and not managing the words as he beat uselessly at the flames. In the end all he could do was roll around desperately as he felt his skin frying and breaking, screaming in agony until his lungs and eyes and brain finally collapsed and succumbed to it.
When the fire finally pulls back, what is left of Raylan is unrecognizable outside of the hat that had rolled several feet away and the tin star that could be found if one kicked the ash of his coat away.