Raylan tried to be a punctual man and, with nothing else to do but wait to see what Flint's drop on it all was, made his ETA with a minute and a half to spare. If Jedao wasn't already there, he'd call up the same field he let James and Red swing it out at, nestled into the foot of a mountain without a top, field now full with shin high bluegrass that rustled with the soft, warm, and sweet breeze that the state was lucky enough to get sometimes. The sky had several fluffy clouds floating around in it's perfectly sky blue air, with a large cluster off in the distance.
Dressed up top in only his henley shirt, pushed up at the elbows, the heel of his hand lazily resting on the butt of his gun as he waited the few seconds it would take for Jedao to arrive, Raylan breathed in the faux Kentucky air and readjusted his hat. He was ready for Uncomfortable.
He gives it ten minutes and thirty seconds; Raylan's cabin is lower down than his, and Jedao wants him to have the opportunity to choose the scenario, if he wants - both because it'll be grounding for him, and somewhat revealing. But he also doesn't want the appearance of carelessness that would come with being actually late.
In spite of himself, something unknots in his shoulders as he steps into the scene, tastes the bewildering, indescribable complexity of planetside air, feels a little overwhelmed at the openness and brightness of it all. The void is twice as wide, with no ground beneath, but the black is quiet; this hits different.
"Expecting anyone else?" Jedao asks, as he settles in next to Raylan, eyes flicking to the hand on his gun.
Raylan doesn't move as he hears the door and stays with his back to the stairs that led down, though he does look over his shoulder once Jedao is most of the way in, studying how the scenescape was taken. Letting Jedao set the tone of how they start, Raylan stayed quiet until he was spoken to, eyes swinging back up to the horizon.
"No. No one else. But if you decide you wanna make this more comfortable-" Raylan swings a lazy finger off to his left, pointing at the small stage set Southern porch, complete with pillars to hold up the awning that covered it, a fan on it's ceiling of pale blue and a couple of chairs with a table between them.
Really, he wants to lay down in the grass like a child making a snow angel, but that's not what he's here for.
"Sure. So," he begins, as he starts walking over, "Before I make any assumptions based on James' extremely objective report, I'd like to know your version of what happened."
Jedao is pissed, but his tone is completely calm; even the sarcastic extremely objective isn't delivered with any particular drawl or bite. Just a little bit dry.
Raylan falls into line with a little hum of acknowledgement at the invitation. This was the second time today he'd dealt with this flavor of calm, careful evenness.
"My version is that I wasn't attacked and I wasn't harmed. Neither was Israel Hands. I got the slightest scratch on my neck and Izzy avoided the idea of a pine box. Everyone's fine."
"You're welcome to, if you think you can really get anything outta him." Raylan finally looks over, the subtle immovable mountain with his heels already comfortably dug in to how he was used to doing these kinds of things. He wasn't a child being brought to task.
"I'm asking you what you already know so I can confirm and skip over correct things or correct your record. I'm asking what context James gave you when you talked to him. Might as well start at the beginning of it all, right?"
"Mm," he sounds again, head bobbing slightly as he looks back out over the bluegrass field.
"Did you see Kiryu beatin' Izzy's ass on deck? If not that, I'm sure you heard about Roman's blatant share of the video of it over the network?" He nods again. "That's where it really starts. If Roman had left it there, he'd be fine. But instead, he finds Izzy and shows him the video. Worse than that, he made the apparently murder worthy sin of slinging an arm around Izzy and mockin' him. Izzy taught him a lesson, and then he pitched his steak knife at Roman as he was trying to get away. Cut him open three inches deep. Four inches long. I'd invite you to guess how I know but I'll save the time. Field stitchin' skin is harder than it looks, if I'm honest. Fourteen stitches. Still not sure if I was meant to put them closer together or further apart."
Raylan looks over, brows furrowed slightly. Surely Jedao knew how toxic masculinity worked, right? He would phrase it as 'the way some guys are' but that wouldn't be very helpful. Why did he need details.
"As I understand it, he reacted poorly, aggressively, tried to stab Roman's hand and missed. Roman ran, the breech happened and Izzy decided, coming out of that, to hurl his knife like a ninja star and caught him sidelong. He's a pirate, just like James is. They only react to being humiliated or being made powerless one way. Ironically for the same reason Roman didn't want to go to the infirmary - Pride - but I talked him into the infirmary after it all for actual pain killers and a look over. He's fine."
Everything he knows about toxic masculinity he learned from James, or his file, although he's farther along than Jedao One ever got in figuring that anti-Andan sentiment might have at least a few strokes in common with it.
He understands pride, though, and not showing weakness before the enemy, better than even James thinks he does.
He had to respect Roman's wishes - forcing the man got him very little traction. Roman shut down, resorted to his bullshit talk and, like an elephant, never forgot that kind of theft of agency. He'd take the rap for it too, if it meant not disassembling his friend and that trust to other people.
"Anyway. I had a.. lapse in temper and judgment. So yes, I took my bat and went to have a conversation with Izzy in a language he'd understand. We had it and he left. James only knew I was up to anything because of our necklaces." He pulled his out of his shirt, the black sitting proud on the bluegrey color of his shirt.
"Transmits a heartbeat and when we're in danger, that beat jacks up. My bat handle ended up under Izzy's jaw, his blade ended at my throat, and everyone's fine. I didn't know James was gonna make a post like that, or that his opinions were that.. particular about it."
"I didn't expect he had run it by you," Jedao says honestly, although he does think it's interesting, and not particularly heartening, to hear Raylan use the exact same phrase that James seemed to be stuck on.
"I'm not mad at you for him being upset, or any of what he's doing, or for being angry on Roman's behalf. But I am mad at you for being dumb about it."
"Bet you'd be madder if I'd shot him." Which was to say, Raylan did the bare minimum and not particularly effectively without that kind of action. "But I've already talked to Kiryu. Everythin's fine."
As he keeps saying, like that resolved everything neatly with a bow on top.
"What do you think about James's post, his suggestion about group voices in individual punishment?
Raylan's head tilts slightly, eyes narrowing slightly himself. He wasn't anywhere near defensive, but he feels he's handled the questions rather well so far. He wasn't an inmate, Jedao wasn't his Warden, nor his superior - why was he being questioned like those things weren't true?
"Why's that important to your uncomfortable conversation?"
Jedao stares at him for a moment, then drags a hand over his face, muttering with some feeling, "Fox and hound," in about the same tone that an American might say fucking christ.
Why is that important. He drops his hand and stares out at that startling supergiant-blue sky.
"Bluntly, I'm trying to figure out if you're a colleague I can work with, or an obstacle I have to work around. As far as I can tell, you wanted to either punish or intimidate someone you've told me only responds to insults to his pride with more violence. You decided to make it immediately and unquestionably a physical confrontation by bringing a weapon you couldn't even conceal. You did all this while knowing that he knows that you are bound by much stricter rules of engagement than he is - namely, that he can afford to kill you, but you can't afford to kill him. Which puts you at a startling disadvantage on the ground you chose."
He takes another deep breath.
"Now, if this was all a mistake of blunt, protective rage and you know it, then you're unreliable but at least understandable. If you thought it out and justified it to yourself and still think you had a chance of achieving something and you only failed in terms of professional courtesy, then - I guess I can stop bothering you."
"I gotta say, while I'm not surprised at the real question under there - 'Am I angry or stupid' - I'm a little disappointed in that characterization, like we didn't spend what, three and a half weeks?, giving James a double shadow. Or bringing him home after the Clipper and Galley slaughter. Would have thought I'd answered this question already."
He shifts, leg falling so he could reach into his back pocket and fetch his flask before he turns into the table, in to face Jedao a little more directly, body leaning into the chair back. Jedao didn't know it, but a Southern Porch wasn't just any old Familiar place - it was where shit was settled and sorted, where real talks were had, where that messy bit called life tended to happen.
"But we're overdue for a frank discussion anyway. We almost had one last time. So fine. Let me expand on all that for you. Yes, I used violence against someone I know responds with more violence because that's a very real language that he understands. Izzy doesn't want the trouble that comes with killin' me, and with a blade at my neck, I still woulda got him if I thought he had any intent of followin' through. He wasn't gonna kill me. And I didn't kill him. That's fair trade. So disadvantage? Not so much."
He spins open the top of his flask as he speaks, offering it out to Jedao first. If he didn't take it though, Raylan planned on taking a shot anyway, teeth bearing as he swallowed it down.
"My bat wasn't meant to be concealed. I only draw my gun when I mean to put a man down, and that's an escalation that no one needed. Even my temper tries to stay measured when it lashes out. Appropriate to the situation. And I'll take a lotta shit. But Izzy had already done too much, and we needed to have a conversation." It had to be, by design.
"I achieved what I needed to. Not my place to punish and you don't just intimidate a man like Izzy Hands. Life's been doin' that for a while. But to let him know there are repercussions that he is familiar with here when shits taken to far. Now, you're free to disagree with that. I'm sure Kiryu would join you and I admit that it wasn't the best choice I've made here in my year of servitude. But if all it takes is a bad emotional decision to put us back at square one, considering our situations, I'd prefer to know that sooner rather than later."
On the long and lengthening list of things Jedao is mad about, the alcohol is certainly the pettiest. Because he likes liquor - it's the only thing he's ever eaten or drunk that he actually liked - but sharing a cup is for comrades, so he has to decline. He shakes his head briskly, once.
"If it was one bad decision, we'd be fine. But you're not saying it was a bad emotional decision. You're saying you believe it was the correct decision, with imperfect execution. And now James thinks you're the fucking victim in all this."
"Which is somethin' I'll fix as soon as I talk to him. But no, I'm not sayin' that. Doesn't make it right but it's already done. You wanted an explanation and I achieved what me and my temper needed to. I'm not gonna fall over myself and breakdown into apologize to everyone who knows about it. I apologized to Kiryu. That's enough."
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--
Raylan tried to be a punctual man and, with nothing else to do but wait to see what Flint's drop on it all was, made his ETA with a minute and a half to spare. If Jedao wasn't already there, he'd call up the same field he let James and Red swing it out at, nestled into the foot of a mountain without a top, field now full with shin high bluegrass that rustled with the soft, warm, and sweet breeze that the state was lucky enough to get sometimes. The sky had several fluffy clouds floating around in it's perfectly sky blue air, with a large cluster off in the distance.
Dressed up top in only his henley shirt, pushed up at the elbows, the heel of his hand lazily resting on the butt of his gun as he waited the few seconds it would take for Jedao to arrive, Raylan breathed in the faux Kentucky air and readjusted his hat. He was ready for Uncomfortable.
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In spite of himself, something unknots in his shoulders as he steps into the scene, tastes the bewildering, indescribable complexity of planetside air, feels a little overwhelmed at the openness and brightness of it all. The void is twice as wide, with no ground beneath, but the black is quiet; this hits different.
"Expecting anyone else?" Jedao asks, as he settles in next to Raylan, eyes flicking to the hand on his gun.
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"No. No one else. But if you decide you wanna make this more comfortable-" Raylan swings a lazy finger off to his left, pointing at the small stage set Southern porch, complete with pillars to hold up the awning that covered it, a fan on it's ceiling of pale blue and a couple of chairs with a table between them.
"Figured I'd give you the option. And the view."
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"Sure. So," he begins, as he starts walking over, "Before I make any assumptions based on James' extremely objective report, I'd like to know your version of what happened."
Jedao is pissed, but his tone is completely calm; even the sarcastic extremely objective isn't delivered with any particular drawl or bite. Just a little bit dry.
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"My version is that I wasn't attacked and I wasn't harmed. Neither was Israel Hands. I got the slightest scratch on my neck and Izzy avoided the idea of a pine box. Everyone's fine."
That counted as an answer, right?
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Jedao lets himself drop into one of the chairs, eyes unblinking as they settle on Raylan again.
"James says you went after him with a bat."
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"Do you know the details of what Israel did to Roman?" Hell, Izzy was lucky Raylan didn't do more.
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James had something to say about that too, but, well. "Should I track him down instead?"
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"I'm asking you what you already know so I can confirm and skip over correct things or correct your record. I'm asking what context James gave you when you talked to him. Might as well start at the beginning of it all, right?"
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"I might. But I came to you first. As for James, he's told me precious little, all of it reactionary. I would prefer you not skip things, in fact."
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"Did you see Kiryu beatin' Izzy's ass on deck? If not that, I'm sure you heard about Roman's blatant share of the video of it over the network?" He nods again. "That's where it really starts. If Roman had left it there, he'd be fine. But instead, he finds Izzy and shows him the video. Worse than that, he made the apparently murder worthy sin of slinging an arm around Izzy and mockin' him. Izzy taught him a lesson, and then he pitched his steak knife at Roman as he was trying to get away. Cut him open three inches deep. Four inches long. I'd invite you to guess how I know but I'll save the time. Field stitchin' skin is harder than it looks, if I'm honest. Fourteen stitches. Still not sure if I was meant to put them closer together or further apart."
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He can infer, of course. But he wants specifics, not guesses.
"And Roman wanted to avoid the infirmary because...?"
Possibly it wasn't actually Roman's preference, but it seems like a less inflammatory way to phrase the question.
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"As I understand it, he reacted poorly, aggressively, tried to stab Roman's hand and missed. Roman ran, the breech happened and Izzy decided, coming out of that, to hurl his knife like a ninja star and caught him sidelong. He's a pirate, just like James is. They only react to being humiliated or being made powerless one way. Ironically for the same reason Roman didn't want to go to the infirmary - Pride - but I talked him into the infirmary after it all for actual pain killers and a look over. He's fine."
It's fine.
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He understands pride, though, and not showing weakness before the enemy, better than even James thinks he does.
"I'm glad to hear that," he says sincerely.
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"Anyway. I had a.. lapse in temper and judgment. So yes, I took my bat and went to have a conversation with Izzy in a language he'd understand. We had it and he left. James only knew I was up to anything because of our necklaces." He pulled his out of his shirt, the black sitting proud on the bluegrey color of his shirt.
"Transmits a heartbeat and when we're in danger, that beat jacks up. My bat handle ended up under Izzy's jaw, his blade ended at my throat, and everyone's fine. I didn't know James was gonna make a post like that, or that his opinions were that.. particular about it."
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"I'm not mad at you for him being upset, or any of what he's doing, or for being angry on Roman's behalf. But I am mad at you for being dumb about it."
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"Bet you'd be madder if I'd shot him." Which was to say, Raylan did the bare minimum and not particularly effectively without that kind of action. "But I've already talked to Kiryu. Everythin's fine."
As he keeps saying, like that resolved everything neatly with a bow on top.
"What do you think about James's post, his suggestion about group voices in individual punishment?
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“Why don’t you tell me what part you think was a lapse in judgement.”
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"Not talking to Kiryu about his inmate first." Some things were easier to admit than others. "But that's between me and him."
He looks over again, calmly waiting for either the next question or the answer to the one he'd asked.
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"What was your actual objective in that confrontation?"
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"Why's that important to your uncomfortable conversation?"
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Why is that important. He drops his hand and stares out at that startling supergiant-blue sky.
"Bluntly, I'm trying to figure out if you're a colleague I can work with, or an obstacle I have to work around. As far as I can tell, you wanted to either punish or intimidate someone you've told me only responds to insults to his pride with more violence. You decided to make it immediately and unquestionably a physical confrontation by bringing a weapon you couldn't even conceal. You did all this while knowing that he knows that you are bound by much stricter rules of engagement than he is - namely, that he can afford to kill you, but you can't afford to kill him. Which puts you at a startling disadvantage on the ground you chose."
He takes another deep breath.
"Now, if this was all a mistake of blunt, protective rage and you know it, then you're unreliable but at least understandable. If you thought it out and justified it to yourself and still think you had a chance of achieving something and you only failed in terms of professional courtesy, then - I guess I can stop bothering you."
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He shifts, leg falling so he could reach into his back pocket and fetch his flask before he turns into the table, in to face Jedao a little more directly, body leaning into the chair back. Jedao didn't know it, but a Southern Porch wasn't just any old Familiar place - it was where shit was settled and sorted, where real talks were had, where that messy bit called life tended to happen.
"But we're overdue for a frank discussion anyway. We almost had one last time. So fine. Let me expand on all that for you. Yes, I used violence against someone I know responds with more violence because that's a very real language that he understands. Izzy doesn't want the trouble that comes with killin' me, and with a blade at my neck, I still woulda got him if I thought he had any intent of followin' through. He wasn't gonna kill me. And I didn't kill him. That's fair trade. So disadvantage? Not so much."
He spins open the top of his flask as he speaks, offering it out to Jedao first. If he didn't take it though, Raylan planned on taking a shot anyway, teeth bearing as he swallowed it down.
"My bat wasn't meant to be concealed. I only draw my gun when I mean to put a man down, and that's an escalation that no one needed. Even my temper tries to stay measured when it lashes out. Appropriate to the situation. And I'll take a lotta shit. But Izzy had already done too much, and we needed to have a conversation." It had to be, by design.
"I achieved what I needed to. Not my place to punish and you don't just intimidate a man like Izzy Hands. Life's been doin' that for a while. But to let him know there are repercussions that he is familiar with here when shits taken to far. Now, you're free to disagree with that. I'm sure Kiryu would join you and I admit that it wasn't the best choice I've made here in my year of servitude. But if all it takes is a bad emotional decision to put us back at square one, considering our situations, I'd prefer to know that sooner rather than later."
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"If it was one bad decision, we'd be fine. But you're not saying it was a bad emotional decision. You're saying you believe it was the correct decision, with imperfect execution. And now James thinks you're the fucking victim in all this."
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Sure as shit not to Jedao, anyway.
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