#bailheap

[fieldrot]

@bailheap said: "something is following you. whether you can see it of not is a different matter."

“aye. something’s been following me. another man’s name is a heavy thing to carry, mick. you should know — you’ve done it all this time, too.”

in callum’s stare lingers the intensity that his flat affect conceals. thus far he’s kept his distance, his back pressed against the door to michael’s office. now, though, he steps slowly forward until he’s poised at the center of the room. in his left hand he holds a manila envelope: wrinkled, grimy, even more so than the documents therein.

“be glad to shrug you off me shoulders after today. ‘course —” he holds the envelope up from his side, “i’ll insist, you first.”

[fieldrot]

@bailheap said: "we're no too far noo."

michael’s pace is brisk and purposeful. callum takes a more leisurely approach to their journey through the outskirts of the coalfields, a gnarled stick in his hand meant for swatting at obstacles. 

“it’ll be rainin soon,” he frowns, thinking of the half-eaten apple and crust of bread in his pockets. he would eat them soaked, of course — but it wouldn’t taste the same. “ye hungry, meck?”

[vitalphenomena]

@bailheap | x

I hope and I pray, when I still have it in my heart to pray to God, that Louis and I won't be here for long. Look, I've accepted that I'll never feel the sun on my face during a sunny afternoon. Not now, not ever again. 

But, hell, it's dreary here! Before I fall asleep—we've found a boarding house where they don't ask questions and we're able to avoid daylight uninterrupted—I hear the rain pattering on the roof. When I wake up? Rain on the roof! It never ends. 

Claudia looks pitiful from a distance—damn near drowned. Still, she regards the man with an unwavering scrutiny—only blinking when water pools on her eyelashes and blurs her vision.

"Why's it gotta be poor him?"

She tilts her head.

"I thought he was an angel, once upon a time. Really."

[vitalphenomena]

@bailheap // x

HUBERT ONLY WANTED TO SEE A NICE PLAY IN A NICE, NEW THEATRE.

He immediately regrets intervening in any way. It's typically not in his nature to do so. Being abroad had him feeling bold, briefly. The hat might have something to do with it, too. He felt confident and handsome when he left the hotel this afternoon, which had been confronted from a castle and was quite glamorous.

"I'm not anything! I'm not anyone! Do lower your voice, please."

[choicescreen]

@bailheap, cont.

he's silent for a long time.

probably a masseria goon. or a goon of masseria's goons, being that he isn't italian. folks up there are intense about their enclaves. richard never bothers figuring out who works for who out of new york. gets too complicated. doesn't concern him.

just his characteristic grunt first, towards the choosey bampot. he hears the pistol lower more than sees, on his left side. the hammer clicks back into place, but it isn't put away.

then, "not unless… you give me a reason to." he would smile if it didn't hurt. instead, the attempt to diffuse the tension only added to it.

[joyousdefunct]

@bailheap / cont.

not that she could be certain, but … “yes.”

it seemed unwise to answer. more so to remain silent.

her ring finger pops up from where both hands collect tightly around the handle of her supplies basket. it’s a small diamond with two sapphires set on either side. one size too big, but she hadn’t held it against eddy. he was clueless about these sorts of things.

annis eyes the stain.

“it’ll take me an hour, no more.”