001 || Video

[neverleftharlan]

[On comes the video. A handsome man in his early forties, wearing a Stetson, staring the screen down with the kind of suspicion typically reserved for interrogations.

And for about ten seconds that is all he does. When he speaks, it's with a thick Kentucky accent.]

I suppose, now I'm thinking about it, using this means of communication is an acknowledgement that this is in fact happening and I am not higher than a summer kite or having a trauma-induced hallucination of some kind. S'funny, I didn't figure myself as the type, but I suppose one never does.

I'm going to find a drink. Somewhere in this… [A pause that stretches long enough to indicate he's at a loss for words.] Extremely creative venture into the deep recesses of my apparently disturbed psyche. Because god knows if I'm in my head, there's got to be a puddle around here somewheres.

Comments

[neverleftharlan]

On occasion. [Raylan closes the distance between them before she can go far, a silent courtesy. He's been injured in the line of duty and he's not about to forget his manners just because of their current situation. He doesn't so much as glance at the cane - if he were still limping along he wouldn't want a stranger's commentary.] Though if you can save me the trouble of deducing where the nearest watering hole is, I'd be much obliged.

[nolimitation]

[ The lack of reaction to the cane is a relief - it's hard not to be self-conscious about it when she's so used to being self-sufficient. She inclines her head, silent indication for him to follow as she turns and starts down the street. ]

That I can definitely do. It happens to be one of the more popular questions when people first arrive. I can't really blame anyone for it, either.

[neverleftharlan]

Good to know folks who've ended up here have at least some sense to 'em. [He's scanning the road and the people on it constantly as they walk - amble would be a better word for what Raylan is doing. He glances down at Olivia.] Tell me they got something like bourbon.

[nolimitation]

I haven't looked for bourbon specifically, but I think we can probably find some kind of substitute. I'd be careful, though. Kedan have faster metabolisms than we do, so their alcohol's stronger.

[neverleftharlan]

[This time his look brims with good-natured amusement.] I'm from Kentucky.

[nolimitation]

[ She tilts her head a little, giving him a somewhat bemused look of her own. ] And you have superhuman livers down in Kentucky?

[neverleftharlan]

You cut us, we bleed moonshine. [He watches a green-skinned, four-limbed kedan walk past with the same expression an elder might use on a kid with too many tattoos, before dragging his focus back to Olivia witha deep breath.]

[nolimitation]

We'll see about that. [ Olivia tracks his gaze to the kedan, and her smile turns a little sympathetic. ] I take it you've never dealt with anything like this before?

[neverleftharlan]

So we will.

[He is not afraid.

There are three, maybe four times in Raylan's life when fear has won out over other impulses - and only one when it addled him to the point of panic. This isn't a doghole mine and he isn't a boy, and there is no reason or excuse to fall apart.

He's been quiet too long. Raylan resettles his hat.] Am I to assume from the question that you have?

[nolimitation]

[ She tilts her head for a moment, considering possible responses. Preferably ones that won't make her sound like she's insane. ]

Not this exactly - [ She gestures to a passing kedan, bright magenta with feathers, for explanation of what she means by 'this'. ] - but most of the cases I've worked over the last year or so are... pretty far out of the ordinary. Let's just say the whole parallel universe thing wasn't really a surprise for me by the time I got here.

[neverleftharlan]

[He gives her a helpless look.] If you say X-Files I'm calling bullshit.

[nolimitation]

We call it Fringe Division these days. [ From her calm, even expression, it's impossible to tell if she's joking or not. ]

[neverleftharlan]

[Muttered:] And my cousin's name is Boba Fett.

You know-- [He comes to a full stop, forcing a kedan with a basket of goods to swerve around him.] I'm too old for this shit. The world doesn't get to go sideways like this, not now, for Chrissake, there's enough normal crap I ain't figured out yet. But no, there's no questions asked, no "excuse me marshal, but we'd like to snatch you out of house and home and piss on your view of normalcy for a bit, how's that by you?" That would be an inconvenience to request I'm sure. Where's this bar, much farther?

[nolimitation]

[ Olivia stops with him, looking into his eyes with an expression that's suddenly deeply sympathetic - she remembers this feeling, like standing on the edge of a cliff, just realizing how much there is you don't know and just wanting to forget you ever realized in the first place. ]

No one ever asks, Marshal. It's always like this - one day something happens, and you don't understand the world anymore, and since walking away isn't an option in this case... you adapt.

[ Pause. ] Alcohol does help, though. It's just around the corner.

[neverleftharlan]

[The sympathy is easily as unsettling as everything else. He looks away, to the canals and blue walkways and the kedan, and winces. The sky is neutral. So are his boots.

Instead of answering, Raylan starts walking again, turning the nearest corner toward the evening chatter of a bar opening for business. If he doesn't meet anyone's eyes it could almost be some Lexington tourist trap, done up around a theme as an excuse to charge more and keep the students and hillbillies away. He slides up to the bar itself with a sigh. It's low, more like a counter, but close enough for government work.

Raylan very carefully keeps his eyes on Olivia instead of taking in his surroundings, though he has to fight his instincts to manage it. He wants to know who's there and in what positions, who they're watching, if they're armed, but keeping a tight hold on sanity feels like the priority.]

[nolimitation]

[ Olivia can't exactly blame him for that reaction - after all, she did more or less the same thing when Broyles cornered her at Harvard. She follows him, falling a bit behind with the pace her leg forces her to keep, but catching up at the bar before too long and sliding into the seat beside him.

The bartender recognizes her and ambles over with a too-wide Cheshire cat grin - Olivia's accustomed enough to the oddities of kedan that she barely notices. ] My friend here's wondering if you have something like bourbon. It's a whiskey, it's made from... Do you even have corn here?

[neverleftharlan]

[Raylan leans back slightly at the kedan's approach, as perturbed by its appearance as by Olivia's non-reaction. He doesn't hear whether or not they have corn here - his brain is busy resetting itself again, and by the time he can look at Olivia without feeling slightly ill, there's a glass of something in front of him.

It is very quickly not in front of him. It burns like whiskey and at the moment he's going to focus on that. Very, very quietly:] Jesus Christ.

[nolimitation]

[ Olivia finishes her glass a little more slowly, and smiles faintly as she sets it down and glances over at Raylan. ] Starting to feel less like a dream?

[neverleftharlan]

[He gestures to his glass and watches the alcohol fill it instead of looking at the bar tender - he does thank the kedan though, with a slight nod, before he knocks it the drink back.] Wishing it felt more like one all the time.

[nolimitation]

Good luck with that. [ Olivia lets the bartender fill her glass too, offering him a quick smile of gratitude as he does, but she doesn't touch it for the moment. ]

So you're from Kentucky. Where from?

[neverleftharlan]

Harlan. [He pauses and doesn't quite grimace.] Well, technically Lexington. Depends whether you mean where I'm from or where I'm from, I suppose. What about you? You're no Southern Belle.

[nolimitation]

[ She raises her eyebrows at that last comment. ] I'm wondering a little if I should be offended by that...

Boston. Jacksonville originally, but... I haven't been there in a long time.

[neverleftharlan]

If you enjoy working at being useless and politely aloof about it. [He takes a long sip from his glass, easing off consumption at least a little.] Did a piece down in the Miami office - there's a gator poacher lived down that way who actually ended himself up in Kentucky shortly before I did.

[Raylan gives the bar a contemplative look, half-expecting Dewey to spring from a convenient corner.] Shot his uncle in Miami as it turns out, though I didn't know they were related at the time.

[nolimitation]

In that case, I guess I'll take it as a compliment. [ She picks up her glass, but gets distracted by Raylan's little anecdote before she actually manages to take a sip. ]

So were you following him to Kentucky, or did you just get lucky?

[neverleftharlan]

Didn't even know who he was before he walked through a witness's front door and tried to shoot me himself - his family seems to have a thing for shotguns.

[Talking about the mundane is at least helping him start to relax. It won't last, maybe, but it's nice for the time being.] Dewey Crowe. Last I saw him he was on his way back to Trimble to get himself stitched up properly. Thought someone stole his kidneys and tried to shake down half of main street to buy them back.