how to wrap a cat [OPEN]

[charismatic]

Who: Will and ~*you*~
What: Running errands, doing inadvisable things at work, drinking, dancing, etc.
Where: He works out in Serpolet and lives in Mog Hill but wherever works. Just specify a time/place when you tag in.
When: All this week and bits of last week.
Notes: IF YOU WANT TO WORK OUT SOMETHING MORE SPECIFIC/A DIRECTION/WEVS, just poke me on plurk or something. Be prepared for a lot of unnecessary capslock. Also, there is no cat, I was just watching this video.
Warnings: None as yet!

He's starting to settle in, as much as anyone can settle in, here. He's got a job he enjoys and an apartment he doesn't mind and maybe a couple friends. Will figures he's doing reasonably well for himself. Everyone knows him down at Tinker's Lot now, his neighbors don't bother him, and he's starting to piece together his favorite places to go to blow off steam.

So he learns the train routes and schedules, he goes shopping occasionally, and he gets used to mundane things like carrying a messenger bag and having hard currency. Nothing seems too jarring when everything is wrong, and Will's adaptable. If he focuses on the immediate problems of livability and keeps himself reasonably occupied, he's fine. Things start to look familiar.

He doesn't so much ignore the tension underneath as set it aside, put it away for later. There's not much he can do about it now, and he's a practical soul. If he wants to get to a place where he can, he needs to have his feet firmly under him and a clear head. Hitting up dance clubs doesn't always help with that, but a guy's allowed his vices, right?

Comments

[charismatic]

“Surprisingly well!” Will says. “I ate them for breakfast.” That lead to some interesting mornings – nothing was bad but some were definitely unexpected. “I actually have my own place now so I have a refrigeration unit and everything.” Not that he's really all that clear on what should and shouldn't be stored cold. He just kind of shoves everything in there and hopes it'll be okay. “Maybe I should try making a list or something.”

[toooldforlosing]

"Yeah, I had a lot of trial and error when I started. You'll get the hang of it." Of all the things he hates about Baedal, the food is far down the list.

[charismatic]

“Yeah,” Will says. “It's actually one of the least weird things around here. Alcohol's pretty much the same, too.” That reminds him to wave the bartender over.

[toooldforlosing]

"Thank god," he agrees, mildly. "That woulda been a special kind of hell."

[charismatic]

Will orders his drink – bourbon and water – before he replies. “I'm not sure how anyone would deal with this otherwise,” he agrees. He's never been a heavy drinker; he likes just enough to get a nice buzz going. More than that and he starts getting a little maudlin and that's no fun for anyone. “So what have you been up to?”

[toooldforlosing]

Raylan shrugs lazily. "I don't know, the usual. Work. Drinking. Running. Not always that order. What do you do?"

[charismatic]

“I work out at Tinker's Lot,” Will says, paying for his drink when it comes up. “They have all kinds of weird stuff out there and they need people who are quick at getting out of the way if it blows up to test drive them.” He pauses for a moment, considering. He remembers the bit about the sheriff. He's just not sure if or how that connects to the Militia. “How's work for you?”

[toooldforlosing]

He makes a so-so gesture. He's not trying to wind Will up - he's just not sure exactly what he wants to say. Finally, he says, "From what I understand, as districts go, Mog Hill's mostly just people lashing out when they first get here. Petty criminals taking advantage of newbies. That sort of thing. We deal with most of it local."

I.e. with as little militia involvement as is practical. At least from Raylan's point of view.

[charismatic]

Will nods, tilting his head. That doesn't totally answer the underlying question, but he'll take it. He takes a sip of his drink. “That makes sense,” he says. “It's pretty disconcerting.” He'd been too focused to freak out, but he supposes that doesn't happen to everyone. “Plenty of folks around here seem capable of doing a lot of damage.”

[toooldforlosing]

"Ain't that the truth. And it's been a quiet few months, even." He almost sounds like this puts him on edge, and it does, a bit - he's waiting for the other shoe to drop.

[charismatic]

“Seems like that would make it worse,” Will says. It would drive him crazy, at least. The downtime out in the field was always the worst, because it was impossible to predict if, when, or how it would end. Well. They generally knew it would end badly, he supposes. He leans his elbows on the bar. “What do you do to keep from –“ clawing your face off probably isn't an appropriate of phrase, “– turning into a bundle of nerves?”

[toooldforlosing]

Raylan laughs, then tilts his glass of whiskey toward Will. "Generally this."