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tinstarWho: Raylan and you!
What: The Marshal struggling with his new powers
Where: All over Milton
When: All over April
The Thing with Feathers
[Raylan stayed outdoors a lot when the weather permitted, finding the cold and the sharp wind invigorating most of the time and finding himself feeling more connected to the land of Milton. Whether that was because of his new 'influence' or his moon touched power, he wasn't sure, but he'd given up on trying to understand what the Bear had done to him. So his eyes stay moving and currently are looking up, watching the birds.
At first, the swarming over the forests didn't bother him. But as they work closer to Milton, their eyeballing unnerves him. Carrion birds were always a sign of death and it didn't leave him warm and fuzzy to think they thought the Interlopers were going to pass. He shortly decided that trying to befriend them was better than anything else - beyond all belief, he might have actually learned his lesson with the Old Bear. Besides, it was a lot harder to defend against a flock than it was a single enemy. So he tossed them bits of fish or dried meat, bread when he had it, and kept his distance.
If he spots someone trying to fight them, he won't hesitate in coming up to softly declare:] That's askin' for trouble, you know. They will swarm, you do enough damage. You ever hear of Alfred Hitchcock's 'The Birds'?
[Later, it seems that Raylan was predicting the future. He finds himself jumping at every thump, something that only serves to piss him off, and when he goes outside to see the divebombing, he yells at anyone who might be nearby:] GET INSIDE, STAY AWAY FROM THE WINDOWS. [His door was open too, him gesturing furiously, and anyone willing to take it would be ushered into something akin to relative safety.]
Misfits The Body Swap
[ It had started small. A weird craving for curry, something Raylan had only had a few times in his life to start with, followed by an increasing desire for spice that Raylan didn't understand. At first, he thought it was nothing; stress of the situation finally getting to him, mind reaching for something small and comforting that would offset everything else. Maybe he'd secretly really loved red and just didn't have the opportunity enough to wear it.
He thought nothing of it.
Until he wakes up one morning and goes to scratch a dick itch, only to find.. It was gone. Truly any man's nightmare.
An hour later, Chloe walks out in jeans that are too long, rolled at the cuff to compensate for the lack of height, a large red flannel, and Raylan's hat on her head. He was puffing as he gets into Milton, long stride cut short by the fact he just couldn't walk like that anymore and how did she handle the hip swish? It would take him a little while to adjust to the gait and his hand stays on the gun on her hip like he could shoot whatever made this happen.]
Hey!
[She calls out to the first face she sees.]
You seen Raylan Givens around?
[God. How humiliating, to be going around asking for himself. If no one has seen "him", Raylan heads up towards the Farm, cop knocking on Chloe's door with more urgency than was strictly necessary. What the Hell was going on?]
Greene Street/The Forest
[ He could feel it. A roiling fury that sat low and warm in his gut, a lifelong companion that was now chewing at the bars of his control, no longer successfully kept at bay by the fears of what he would become, who he would turn into. He feared it was too late. After the last meeting with the Old Bear in the woods, he felt.. different in a way he couldn't quantify. Different in a way that made him worried about going onto four paws.
So he worked instead of stewed and in doing so discovered one useful difference he could easily put words to. He was strong. Chopping firewood took so much less effort and when he hauled them, roped together, he could carry a good number more than before. He was going to have to be careful. To learn how careful, that took a trip into the tree line, Goose on his heels.
When he comes up to a patch of trees and is confident no one is around, he shakes out one hand a little, looking down at Goose. He opts to start on the smallest scale that was reasonable, a tall but slender tree, sturdy but not thick.]
This is about to be awesome, or it's gonna be my stupidest decision to date.
[Without further warning, Raylan punches the tree with all his might. And instead of breaking his hand, the tree cracks. It wasn't enough for him to see any damage, but he knew that sound. Deep. Raylan stumbles back and just stares.]
Holy shit.
Milton Streets/Community Hall
[Raylan used to amble through Milton as he went about delivering the firewood that got most of his general ire, somehow lackadaisical in his purposely way, but today, stalk would be a better description. His expression was gloomy, though when he made eye contact with people, it was a clearly forced effort to beat it away and plaster on an ill fitting smile, like he was squeezing into a too small suit. Aside from that, the hulk of corded word on his back felt like it was a neon sign, and he questions the decision of efficiencies over inconspicuous normality.
Either way, he was here now, Goose the wolf pup happy to sit near the fire and watch Raylan work. Unloading the wood before he stands in front of the community posting board, looking over the notes that were left, Raylan sighs and fingers one of the pieces of paper. He wasn't sure what he was looking for or hoping to find, but damned if he wasn't here anyway, searching.]
Still waitin' for someone to use this to start some shit. [Talking to Goose was a pastime that kept him sane, he was sure.]
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