#LoveWins

[friendsfordinner]

Who: Cornelius Hickey & OPEN
What: hey. hey guess who's married. guess. take a guess. bet you can't guess, OKAY it's Hickey
When: early October, post Forest Talker attack
Where: Milton

Content Warnings: as always, the possibility of canon-typical Terror warnings (mentions of gore, cannibalism, period-typical homophobia, murder, all of Hickey's crimes. etc.). Will mention in the thread if they occur.

( the representation we did not want nor deserve )

Soap and hot water isn't enough to wash away the sin

[tinstar]

Who: Raylan and possibly you?
What: Lil tiny post event log for recovery and secret feelings
Where: Around Milton + Hot Springs
When: Early October

Hot Springs

The stink of death and murder was a hard one to wash off when you only had a pot and a rag and whore's baths weren't cutting it anymore. Raylan was able to stand it all of a day and a half before he and Goose are trudging slowly and painstakingly up towards the hot springs with a filled pack on his back. The plan? Build a fire, lay out clean(er) clothes, and scrub as much of the blood and dirt and Everything off him as the soap and hopefully hot water could get. He had to be careful around his freshly stitched wounds but they weren't deep enough to cause too much concern and he was sure there was some hippy-dippy reason that mountain hot water was good for that, actually. His shoulders and hands would be glad for a soak and he didn't anticipate having any issues around other people seeing him naked. Ladies maybe, but he hoped he was lucky.

Goose wasn't there to bathe, just to keep him company while he tries step one in the handbook for 'How to Feel Human again'.

General - Around Milton

Despite the ache of Raylan's movement, gait slower than normal with a little hitch in his left side, he didn't have enough whiskey to stay home and brood. So he went to work, carrying a beaten, wooden toolbox around, loaded with as many tools as he thought would be useful, and knocked on house doors where it looked both like someone might live and also like it had gotten the shit kicked out of it. Houses that were too far gone were looked over, picked through and it didn't feel much different than the corpse robbing he'd done himself not so long ago. Reasonable people will argue that it's better that goods went with the living, was useful. That didn't make him feel any better about it.

That should keep him busy and not thinking for a few days, or exhaust him to the point of not thinking anymore which was nearly as good.

He's fine, this is fine.