[You said she could stay for a few hours! Arthur doesn't want to be the asshole and stick to that to the point of being unreasonable if Raylan does come early for some reason!]
John Doe is- technically part of a being whose dominion involves madness. It turns out whoever he possesses can become immune to whatever is causing this, a-at least temporarily. If you do feel as if there's something affecting your thoughts, marshal, the best option would be to get John to possess you for however long you need to focus.
[I focus well enough. I won't be possessed. I'm fine. I'm not fine. He can't know I'm not fine. The thoughts piled and stacked against themselves as Raylan chewed over his best course of action. Every action had a consequence, there was never any good, safe bets. He was being watched, being judged.
Raylan's paranoia was a large part of his fury, of his temper. Today, it was turned up to 11, along with everything else.]
I don't but if it would make you feel better, I don't object. [His tone was polite, even and friendly like, if serious and a little flat for it.]
[willa's brain is going aaaaaaAAAAAAA for so many reasons about so many things, but it occurs to her quite suddenly that if he gets hurt or worse there's something she wants to make sure she's said first.]
Dad? I... [Keep it together Givens.] I love you. Be careful?
[She's tense and alert when Raylan knocks, hopping up from the table and running to the door to open it and almost not bothering to check the silhouette on the frosted glass.]
[Arthur had moved back from the desk to the couch after the call had ended, to keep reassuring Willa, but he's not fast enough to grab her when someone knocks, and his voice is sharp despite himself.]
Willa-! [His voice isn't fully muffled by the door.] Confirm first, Jesus.
[Raylan frowns over Willa's shoulder the door opens, frowns at Arthur's tone, but that frown pulls back as he looks down and over Willa, stepping inside and closing the door behind them as he pulls her into a one arm embrace.]
She's alright- [He says towards Arthur with a gently spoken but firm sense about it. They didn't yell at Willa. Well, Raylan didn't, at least. Winona was another story.] - my hat tends to give me away.
[He looks down at her, face pinching in his concern a little.]
[He hears that reprimand, as he uses the table to push himself to his feet, but he does look slightly admonished at the sound of Raylan's voice.]
My apologies, marshal, but in the current economy we can't be too careful. [There's a dry edge to his word choice, but he is contrite.] We have something on-board that's making people act- for lack of a better term, out of character, and known shapeshifters. Now is hardly the time for me to eschew caution, especially when I wasn't aware of your apparent signature.
[It was the best time to be blind, really, so that Arthur could miss out on the flinch of disapproving brow over his own seriously set gaze.]
I'm glad we've resolved that. [Now was not the time for the type of argument that sat so close to the top today, ready to go, fully loaded - they needed to go, for everyone's sake.]
Let's save unpackin' for when we're at home, darlin'. Work day ain't done quite yet. Anything you need to get, you need to get. [He squeezes Willa's shoulders again with the softer words but directing his voice back towards Arthur. Say your goodbyes, get your backpack.]
Thank you for keepin' her safe, Arthur. When this is all over, we can talk about how I can pay you back for it. But if there's anythin' I can bring until this shit is over, let me know. Care basket or somethin'.
She obeys without thinking twice, checking herself to make sure she has everything she remembers having. Then she goes to Arthur and says, "Gonna hug you," very softly. And she does.
He does tense automatically, just a little at the contact, but he relaxes immediately and visibly with the hug, and wraps his own arm around Willa to give her a tight squeeze back.
"Of course," he mumbles back, and when he releases the squeeze he's at a more regular volume. "Take care, both of you."
"We'll do our best," Raylan promises as he reopens the door and sticks his head out. After a brief glance around, he opens the door further and gestures for Willa to go ahead and step out.
"Take care yourself, Arthur." And with that, he closed the door and started them off towards the elevator. Using the elevator meant that it didn't take them more than a few minutes to get downstairs.
"I made a bit of a mess, but don't worry about it, okay? Just haven't had a chance to clean it up yet," he explains as he opens the cabin door for her.
A bit of a mess, he says, but she's not expecting the absolute disaster of his cabin. She stares for a second, grip on his hand tightening instead of loosening.
"What happened? Are you okay? Did someone attack you?"
The dining room table was in pieces, to match the pieces of chair that had gone at it and, apparently, the wall. Wood was everywhere, the coffee table had been kicked on its side - 'a mess' was a very kind and light description.
Raylan gets them in and closes the door behind them before he answers.
"I'm fine, darlin'. No one attacked me. It's just.. Like I said, I made a bit of a mess. It's alright."
If he had his way about it, she wouldn't have ever seen it like this, seen the possibility of the destruction of his fury, but getting her home was more important. He just hoped she didn't notice the soft bruising on some of the knuckles of his right hand.
Better the table than Roman's face. he doesn't say that and instead, let a beat of silence hold before he answers, quieter than before. Ashamed, almost.
"I did. I'll clean it up too. Why don't you go set your things down. I'll get the worst of it outta the way." After he acquires himself a drink. He needed one. He needed more than one. He didn't mind the grip of her hand and wasn't going to be the first to break it right now, but his parental suggestion should move them on and hopefully she'll catch onto something else to focus on.
"We can eat at the island. If that's what you're worried about."
"Alright." He wasn't going to fight her on it; that would cause more problems.
"Doesn't have to be right now though. It'll still be here in a few minutes. Let's get comfortable first." Which was a total lie - as soon as he had that drink in hand, he'd end up working on the clean up effort anyway. Better than having to stare at it; but he did have to figure out what they were gonna do with the debris.
She hugs him, then lets go slowly, inspecting the room. "Maybe we can pile stuff near the door and then when things calm down we can get rid of it with all the other things that've gotten broken around the ship. It's not like anyone will think it's weird."
"Let's put it outside on the deck. At least there, I can consider burnin' it on the beach later. A little bonfire for us." It wasn't going to do much for his shame, but it was step one - get things cleaned up so they could pad around the cabin safely.
"Do you think you'll be able to tell me what happened to you today?"
"Good idea." She starts picking up all the bits she can reach. Focusing on that until he asks her what he asks her. Willa stares at her armload of broken furniture, eyes filling a little as she thinks about Jesus and John Gaius and Arthur and John and Zerxus.
He nods in return and then once again to point her back towards the door so he could follow her out. They make a nice pile on the free corner of the deck and Raylan sets about sweeping. He was glad the cabin was hardwood floor and stand alone rugs throughout. Made all this a lot easier.
He wasn't going to push her to talk until things were, in fact, finished but if she didn't say anything by the time he put the broom away, dark brown worried eyes would settle on her, patiently waiting for her to pick a place, to sit or stand, to start when she was ready.
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John Doe is- technically part of a being whose dominion involves madness. It turns out whoever he possesses can become immune to whatever is causing this, a-at least temporarily. If you do feel as if there's something affecting your thoughts, marshal, the best option would be to get John to possess you for however long you need to focus.
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Raylan's paranoia was a large part of his fury, of his temper. Today, it was turned up to 11, along with everything else.]
I don't but if it would make you feel better, I don't object. [His tone was polite, even and friendly like, if serious and a little flat for it.]
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Dad? I... [Keep it together Givens.] I love you. Be careful?
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I'll be careful. See you in a bit.
[He'd send her a text in a few hours, reading 'Hey shortstack, I'm about to be heading up your way.']
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Willa-! [His voice isn't fully muffled by the door.] Confirm first, Jesus.
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She's alright- [He says towards Arthur with a gently spoken but firm sense about it. They didn't yell at Willa. Well, Raylan didn't, at least. Winona was another story.] - my hat tends to give me away.
[He looks down at her, face pinching in his concern a little.]
You are okay, right?
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She wraps both arms around Raylan and presses her face against his chest.]
I mean, which kind are you asking about, because I'm like. Physically fine?
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My apologies, marshal, but in the current economy we can't be too careful. [There's a dry edge to his word choice, but he is contrite.] We have something on-board that's making people act- for lack of a better term, out of character, and known shapeshifters. Now is hardly the time for me to eschew caution, especially when I wasn't aware of your apparent signature.
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I'm glad we've resolved that. [Now was not the time for the type of argument that sat so close to the top today, ready to go, fully loaded - they needed to go, for everyone's sake.]
Let's save unpackin' for when we're at home, darlin'. Work day ain't done quite yet. Anything you need to get, you need to get. [He squeezes Willa's shoulders again with the softer words but directing his voice back towards Arthur. Say your goodbyes, get your backpack.]
Thank you for keepin' her safe, Arthur. When this is all over, we can talk about how I can pay you back for it. But if there's anythin' I can bring until this shit is over, let me know. Care basket or somethin'.
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"Give some of the hug to John for me?"
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"Of course," he mumbles back, and when he releases the squeeze he's at a more regular volume. "Take care, both of you."
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"Take care yourself, Arthur." And with that, he closed the door and started them off towards the elevator. Using the elevator meant that it didn't take them more than a few minutes to get downstairs.
"I made a bit of a mess, but don't worry about it, okay? Just haven't had a chance to clean it up yet," he explains as he opens the cabin door for her.
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"What happened? Are you okay? Did someone attack you?"
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Raylan gets them in and closes the door behind them before he answers.
"I'm fine, darlin'. No one attacked me. It's just.. Like I said, I made a bit of a mess. It's alright."
If he had his way about it, she wouldn't have ever seen it like this, seen the possibility of the destruction of his fury, but getting her home was more important. He just hoped she didn't notice the soft bruising on some of the knuckles of his right hand.
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It's soft, not accusatory, for all that she could turn it that way if she wanted to. She doesn't.
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"I did. I'll clean it up too. Why don't you go set your things down. I'll get the worst of it outta the way." After he acquires himself a drink. He needed one. He needed more than one. He didn't mind the grip of her hand and wasn't going to be the first to break it right now, but his parental suggestion should move them on and hopefully she'll catch onto something else to focus on.
"We can eat at the island. If that's what you're worried about."
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"I'll help." It's solid and determined, more than anything. "You might have had to break it by yourself but you don't have to clean it up alone."
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"Doesn't have to be right now though. It'll still be here in a few minutes. Let's get comfortable first." Which was a total lie - as soon as he had that drink in hand, he'd end up working on the clean up effort anyway. Better than having to stare at it; but he did have to figure out what they were gonna do with the debris.
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"Do you think you'll be able to tell me what happened to you today?"
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She bites her lip and nods. "Finish this first?"
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He wasn't going to push her to talk until things were, in fact, finished but if she didn't say anything by the time he put the broom away, dark brown worried eyes would settle on her, patiently waiting for her to pick a place, to sit or stand, to start when she was ready.