Easy enough, considerin' I've offloaded any work I had a week ago. Won't even ask you what for just yet.
[Though that wasn't to say that he wasn't curious about 'what', only that he'd rather be face to face with Collins to read him while he answered that particular question.]
[but it's followed with a chuckle at the rest of Collins question. ]
Shoulda started with the bottle. Be there in a few.
[He wasn't one for goodbyes either so the call was ended and all of five minutes later, Raylan was at Collins door, hat and gun and all, wearing a crooked smile on his face as the door opens to his knock.]
Whiskey. There anything better on this boat or any other place?
[That's a rhetorical question. The answer was 'no' with no exceptions. He's even managed to find a genuine Irish brand.]
Come on.
[He held the door open. It's just as Givens requested the room to be furnished. There aren't many additions, but the shelves hold a few books and music records carefully placed within their new home. He seems to have grabbed an extra chair from somewhere as well, quite possibly just for this meeting with Givens.]
Not that I've found in the whole wide world. [Raylan was no poet, but he could spin some pretty words about Whiskey given the chance and general inclination.
He steps in with a tip of his head and a glance around, nodding approvingly with a downturn pull of his lips as he looks it all over, chairs included. Good - a safe place to sit.]
Glad to see the Admiral followed through on general quality of life provisions. How's it treatin' ya?
[As he finishes the question, he points at the chair with a lift of his eyebrows, the silent It okay if I sit in this one?? It being Collins space, Raylan was going to respect that.]
[He smiled wryly at his reference to their earlier conversation and nodded at the chair in acquiescence. He would take the other after Givens sat and he had poured two glasses of whiskey.]
It's been better fer sleepin' that's fer certain. [He said with a gesture at the bed.] The record player is nice. Been puttin' it ta use.
Care fer an record on? [He laughed as a thought struck him.] I shoulda told ya ta bring yer fiddle so I could hear ya play yer live music before it's gone.
[He sits and nods his thanks as he claims one of the glasses, leaning back into his seat with all his quiet confidence. This was all starting civilly enough - why did these men insist on being feisty while they're paired and cordial when they're not, Raylan still didn't understand - but he knew Collins wasn't for a lot of the common small talk and pleasantries.
Still, he'll take what he can get while he can get it and maybe their little romp wasn't exactly nothing to the Irishman.]
Dependin' on how this conversation goes, you walk me back to my floor and we can arrange that. It'd be good to get an opinion on how I'm doin'.
[He nods at the record player with a curl of a smile.]
Yeah, put somethin' on. Your favorite outta what he gave you - I'm assumin' you've already listened to 'em all.
[The part about listening to the music, the critiquing of the lawman's playing, or joining Givens in his room was up for debate on which he meant the most.]
Of course. Got a few good ones in there.
[In the original provided collection of records, he meant, which he went over to pick carefully through until his fingers landed on one of his liking. He pulled out and put on some Hoagy Carmichael for them to listen to while they talked for a bit.
At first it seemed as though Collins might get caught up in the music. It was clearly his passion. But he did eventually settle down into his chair opposite Givens and take a sip of his whiskey.]
Not too disappointin' what selection tha bastard gave. It's a nice start. Tha library has plenty more ta choose from when it all gets old.
[Raylan lifts his eyebrows a little at what comes out from the record, smile curling again as he quietly takes a drink of his whiskey, giving Collins the time and more importantly, the silence, to come around to his seat.
Of course, to his modern ear, it sounded like something that should come out a Victrola or a silent movie, but that didn't make the music itself any less nice. Simpler, perhaps, but still good. Modern music was either going to rock Collins world or overwhelm him.]
And you got eighty some odd years of music to make your way up through. I think you're really gonna get a kick outta jazz. Big Band.. Told ya it wasn't all bad, askin' for things. Sky didn't fall down or nothin'. And I'm gussin' things ain't gone exactly well with Taylor. Good that we got you at least this while we could.
['We' and not 'I' because Raylan had only facilitated, he hadn't done any real work.]
[Collins gave the lawman an amused look. And while he wasn't dismissing the rest of what Givens said, he had to set the record straight when it came to music.]
You don't know much about tha history of music, do ya? Tha Jazz Age started well before tha 1920s, bull. And who do ya think plays most of that jazz? Big bands. Or did ya think they only played tha newer swing music? Oh, if I had tha time, you'd learn more than just tha basics like that, boyo.
You gonna teach me to read music, keep time? ['Boyo' huh? A step up from 'Bull' to be sure.] What you got playin' now is the top layer on a many level cake to what it gets up to Collins, I'm tellin' ya.
Besides, where I come from, the area didn't... get out much, you might say. We got our own music. [And that musical history was easier and shorter a tomb to have kicking around his proverbial mental shelves.]
What? Someone finally find a way ta outclass Mozart? Did someone come up with a more complicated time than 5/7? What makes ya think it's so much better in tha future? Smaller bands, individuals beltin' out tunes ta three, fours instruments at most? Is that yer future you speak so highly of?
[He has listened to the Beatles and maybe a few other things. What was so impressive about that? It was just... catchy.]
Better, who said anythin' about better? [This kind of banter her understood in his soul. It was called having a chinwag, shooting the shit, easy as breathing.] Just deeper. More to it. New ideas, new layers. Can't tell me that it ain't evolved and expect it to not continue to evolve.
[But to the question.]
I, personally, like country, but that doesn't stop me from listenin' to or enjoyin' other genres. Bluegrass, and the Appalachian music, I suppose you could call it folk music. It's why I picked up the fiddle, actually. Shit, maybe I shoulda brought my fiddle. [ He says with a little huff of a laugh. ] Don't have much practice in articulatin' differences like this.
[He didn't talk about music generally and most people had the similar kind of musical context shorthand as he did.]
Oh, is that what you've been tryin' ta play, bull?
[He laughed. If Raylan thought he didn't know what country music was, the lawman was wrong. The old folk country originated from his time, too.]
I heard it called hillbilly music. [He was grinning as he spoke.] Southern music. American folk. Good bit of music ta play on yer fiddle, that's certain.
[He bobs his head, one hand lifting to wiggle on an axis, grin crooked and unashamed. Yes and no.]
'Southern' music has evolved too, though I'll take American Folk. Hillbilly music is now specifically banjos in dark swampy marshes or woods where the Hills have Eyes and'll kill you, you get too far onto their land. Suppose that ain't too different from what you know.
You branch out much from this kinda music, or do you stay in this wheelhouse? [he gestures slightly towards the record in reference.]
Hmm. [He absorbed the information and then smiled before he answered.]
Whatever I get me hands on, whatever sticks. My favorites are tha folk and shanties, fun ta sing, but this and jazz are easy listenin'. Ol' classical music, tha full orchestration... love a good concert of that, too.
[So yes, he liked all kinds. He'd try anything at least once. Though the further out he got into the future music the harder it got in some cases. He figured he'd take it slow, learn the history with it to help swallow some of the more crazy stuff.]
Always good to keep a few doors open for new sounds and experiences. I still think, even in modern day, live music is the best way to hear somethin'. [It's granted with a bob of his head and a slight lift of his glass before he takes another drink, teeth bearing a little as he swallows it down.]
An' not that there's anythin' wrong with it, but did you invite me over just to chew the musical fat?
[Said to the tone of 'you don't like my small talk, huh.' A little offended but not enough to get angry over.
He didn't say anything at first. Experience taught him that the lawman would wait. The bull had the patience of a saint when it suited him. Collins preferred the other side of the man: the sinner eager to draw blood and violence. But both had their places.
He took a quick drink from his glass before he finally got his thoughts squared away enough to put them to words.]
Never did thank ya fer me music back. It means a lot ya me, me music. People don't understand...
[He shook his head dismissively. He was either holding back something, or this whole segue was really just another way to buy more time. He fell silent as he watched the liquid in his glass swirl as he rotated his wrist. The thoughtful look on his face stayed in place as he waited for something.]
That's what I just said. Nothin' wrong at all. [The reassurance comes with it's own tone; music was great and wonderful to talk about, but Raylan also knew how easily some newly random small talk was a good cover for Larger issues that no one wanted to rush into. And honestly, he was surprised that Collins had reached out in the first place, all things considered.
Goodbyes had largely been had.
He could almost hear the gears turning over in Collins head, and as expected, Raylan waits. Sometimes men just needed the space and the silence to come around to what was crawling up the back of his throat. If the Barge gave everyone one thing, it was time. And Collins had asked for some of that, after all.
Raylan's head tilts a little in his curiosity.]
You'd already been under that yolk for a month. What Ulla was lookin' for wasn't gonna come, and while you're right, I don't understand, I imagine not bein' able to hear somethin' from yourself that you've always had might lead you a bit towards insanity. Lead anyone towards it, left to suffer it long enough.
[A beat passes and when he continues, his voice is softer. Quiet and genuinely curious to see if Collins would really answer the next question.]
[Collins looked contemplative as he listened to Givens, right up until the last question. The softness of the query kept the hitman from outright bristling but there was an obvious shift in demeanor from Collins. The subject was a sore one. People judged for it.
Normally it didn't bother him. Of course, normally he killed people that heard him talk about anything private.
That wasn't the case here on the ship. He couldn't simply get rid of anyone who might ridicule him.
Maybe the bull's opinion didn't matter. The man was leaving soon anyway. Collins looked at Givens when he spoke.]
How I hear music all tha time. A song is always playin', Marshal, always changin' but never endin'. And when I hunt, that's when tha music takes on it's most beautiful melodies. When it rises, so does my heartbeat.
[Raylan kept his general energy exactly where it was. He wasn't going to bat an eyelash out of step and risk Collins clamming up again. It didn't matter that Raylan was leaving - Collins opening up even a little was foundational work that hopefully someone could work on.
Almost a shame that he's leaving, Raylan's pretty sure he could make some headway, given the time.]
And her curse messed with the pitch of that? [He nods a little, glass turned back and forth on his knee by a quarter inch, eyes steady on Collins. He kept his voice that smooth warm velvet, nonjudgmental, slow and easy.]
[He replied and his voice was modulated, quiet but firm. His eyes bored into Raylan as he studied the lawman with intense purpose. Any little give or sway to catch a reaction, a judgement or an emotion. He watched for them carefully in the way only a practiced man could.]
Her curse messed it all up. A never-ending cacophony of noise meant ta be somethin' beautiful, turned inta tha worse sound ya ever heard. [Hence the lack of sleep, of course.] All me life it's been playin'. Long as I remember anyway.
You got any idea what it is? What.. I dunno, causes it? Any accidents or anythin' when you were a kid?
[Collins was already well left of Crazy; Raylan knew that. The task here was to figure out the best way to get Collins to handle that impluse, those urges. That and Collins was from the same place Arthur and JD were. Only God knows what forces and powers were moving there.]
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[Though that wasn't to say that he wasn't curious about 'what', only that he'd rather be face to face with Collins to read him while he answered that particular question.]
Where at?
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[Small tease. Likes the way you think though.]
My room. I expect ya remember which it is.
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Pretty sure I can find my way back to your cabin again. [Oh, he remembered which it was.]
Ten minutes or you want time to get ready.
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[He should with as many times as he had to track down Collins there during their month paired. Like wrestling with a stubborn old dog.]
What do ya take me fer, some old lady? Get yer ass over here before I drink this bottle on me own.
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[but it's followed with a chuckle at the rest of Collins question. ]
Shoulda started with the bottle. Be there in a few.
[He wasn't one for goodbyes either so the call was ended and all of five minutes later, Raylan was at Collins door, hat and gun and all, wearing a crooked smile on his face as the door opens to his knock.]
What're we drinkin?
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[That's a rhetorical question. The answer was 'no' with no exceptions. He's even managed to find a genuine Irish brand.]
Come on.
[He held the door open. It's just as Givens requested the room to be furnished. There aren't many additions, but the shelves hold a few books and music records carefully placed within their new home. He seems to have grabbed an extra chair from somewhere as well, quite possibly just for this meeting with Givens.]
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He steps in with a tip of his head and a glance around, nodding approvingly with a downturn pull of his lips as he looks it all over, chairs included. Good - a safe place to sit.]
Glad to see the Admiral followed through on general quality of life provisions. How's it treatin' ya?
[As he finishes the question, he points at the chair with a lift of his eyebrows, the silent It okay if I sit in this one?? It being Collins space, Raylan was going to respect that.]
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[He smiled wryly at his reference to their earlier conversation and nodded at the chair in acquiescence. He would take the other after Givens sat and he had poured two glasses of whiskey.]
It's been better fer sleepin' that's fer certain. [He said with a gesture at the bed.] The record player is nice. Been puttin' it ta use.
Care fer an record on? [He laughed as a thought struck him.] I shoulda told ya ta bring yer fiddle so I could hear ya play yer live music before it's gone.
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Still, he'll take what he can get while he can get it and maybe their little romp wasn't exactly nothing to the Irishman.]
Dependin' on how this conversation goes, you walk me back to my floor and we can arrange that. It'd be good to get an opinion on how I'm doin'.
[He nods at the record player with a curl of a smile.]
Yeah, put somethin' on. Your favorite outta what he gave you - I'm assumin' you've already listened to 'em all.
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[The part about listening to the music, the critiquing of the lawman's playing, or joining Givens in his room was up for debate on which he meant the most.]
Of course. Got a few good ones in there.
[In the original provided collection of records, he meant, which he went over to pick carefully through until his fingers landed on one of his liking. He pulled out and put on some Hoagy Carmichael for them to listen to while they talked for a bit.
At first it seemed as though Collins might get caught up in the music. It was clearly his passion. But he did eventually settle down into his chair opposite Givens and take a sip of his whiskey.]
Not too disappointin' what selection tha bastard gave. It's a nice start. Tha library has plenty more ta choose from when it all gets old.
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Of course, to his modern ear, it sounded like something that should come out a Victrola or a silent movie, but that didn't make the music itself any less nice. Simpler, perhaps, but still good. Modern music was either going to rock Collins world or overwhelm him.]
And you got eighty some odd years of music to make your way up through. I think you're really gonna get a kick outta jazz. Big Band.. Told ya it wasn't all bad, askin' for things. Sky didn't fall down or nothin'. And I'm gussin' things ain't gone exactly well with Taylor. Good that we got you at least this while we could.
['We' and not 'I' because Raylan had only facilitated, he hadn't done any real work.]
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You don't know much about tha history of music, do ya? Tha Jazz Age started well before tha 1920s, bull. And who do ya think plays most of that jazz? Big bands. Or did ya think they only played tha newer swing music? Oh, if I had tha time, you'd learn more than just tha basics like that, boyo.
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Besides, where I come from, the area didn't... get out much, you might say. We got our own music. [And that musical history was easier and shorter a tomb to have kicking around his proverbial mental shelves.]
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[He has listened to the Beatles and maybe a few other things. What was so impressive about that? It was just... catchy.]
What sort of music are you used to then?
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[But to the question.]
I, personally, like country, but that doesn't stop me from listenin' to or enjoyin' other genres. Bluegrass, and the Appalachian music, I suppose you could call it folk music. It's why I picked up the fiddle, actually. Shit, maybe I shoulda brought my fiddle. [ He says with a little huff of a laugh. ] Don't have much practice in articulatin' differences like this.
[He didn't talk about music generally and most people had the similar kind of musical context shorthand as he did.]
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[He laughed. If Raylan thought he didn't know what country music was, the lawman was wrong. The old folk country originated from his time, too.]
I heard it called hillbilly music. [He was grinning as he spoke.] Southern music. American folk. Good bit of music ta play on yer fiddle, that's certain.
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'Southern' music has evolved too, though I'll take American Folk. Hillbilly music is now specifically banjos in dark swampy marshes or woods where the Hills have Eyes and'll kill you, you get too far onto their land. Suppose that ain't too different from what you know.
You branch out much from this kinda music, or do you stay in this wheelhouse? [he gestures slightly towards the record in reference.]
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Whatever I get me hands on, whatever sticks. My favorites are tha folk and shanties, fun ta sing, but this and jazz are easy listenin'. Ol' classical music, tha full orchestration... love a good concert of that, too.
[So yes, he liked all kinds. He'd try anything at least once. Though the further out he got into the future music the harder it got in some cases. He figured he'd take it slow, learn the history with it to help swallow some of the more crazy stuff.]
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An' not that there's anythin' wrong with it, but did you invite me over just to chew the musical fat?
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[Said to the tone of 'you don't like my small talk, huh.' A little offended but not enough to get angry over.
He didn't say anything at first. Experience taught him that the lawman would wait. The bull had the patience of a saint when it suited him. Collins preferred the other side of the man: the sinner eager to draw blood and violence. But both had their places.
He took a quick drink from his glass before he finally got his thoughts squared away enough to put them to words.]
Never did thank ya fer me music back. It means a lot ya me, me music. People don't understand...
[He shook his head dismissively. He was either holding back something, or this whole segue was really just another way to buy more time. He fell silent as he watched the liquid in his glass swirl as he rotated his wrist. The thoughtful look on his face stayed in place as he waited for something.]
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Goodbyes had largely been had.
He could almost hear the gears turning over in Collins head, and as expected, Raylan waits. Sometimes men just needed the space and the silence to come around to what was crawling up the back of his throat. If the Barge gave everyone one thing, it was time. And Collins had asked for some of that, after all.
Raylan's head tilts a little in his curiosity.]
You'd already been under that yolk for a month. What Ulla was lookin' for wasn't gonna come, and while you're right, I don't understand, I imagine not bein' able to hear somethin' from yourself that you've always had might lead you a bit towards insanity. Lead anyone towards it, left to suffer it long enough.
[A beat passes and when he continues, his voice is softer. Quiet and genuinely curious to see if Collins would really answer the next question.]
What don't we understand?
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Normally it didn't bother him. Of course, normally he killed people that heard him talk about anything private.
That wasn't the case here on the ship. He couldn't simply get rid of anyone who might ridicule him.
Maybe the bull's opinion didn't matter. The man was leaving soon anyway. Collins looked at Givens when he spoke.]
How I hear music all tha time. A song is always playin', Marshal, always changin' but never endin'. And when I hunt, that's when tha music takes on it's most beautiful melodies. When it rises, so does my heartbeat.
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Almost a shame that he's leaving, Raylan's pretty sure he could make some headway, given the time.]
And her curse messed with the pitch of that? [He nods a little, glass turned back and forth on his knee by a quarter inch, eyes steady on Collins. He kept his voice that smooth warm velvet, nonjudgmental, slow and easy.]
That somethin' you been hearin' for a long time?
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[He replied and his voice was modulated, quiet but firm. His eyes bored into Raylan as he studied the lawman with intense purpose. Any little give or sway to catch a reaction, a judgement or an emotion. He watched for them carefully in the way only a practiced man could.]
Her curse messed it all up. A never-ending cacophony of noise meant ta be somethin' beautiful, turned inta tha worse sound ya ever heard. [Hence the lack of sleep, of course.] All me life it's been playin'. Long as I remember anyway.
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[Collins was already well left of Crazy; Raylan knew that. The task here was to figure out the best way to get Collins to handle that impluse, those urges. That and Collins was from the same place Arthur and JD were. Only God knows what forces and powers were moving there.]
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