#malcolm replies

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@selfdeclared​ gets a meddlesome profiler 

“You know, I really think I get the fascination with photography in general,” Bright commented over his shoulder after he’d picked up one of the hefty cameras in the lab. Honestly it was pretty impressive and if he knew anything about cameras other than how to avoid them, he’d probably comment on the specs or the lens or something. Bringing the eye piece up to a striking blue eye, Bright turned to aim towards Zeller. “It’s much more fun being behind the camera than in front of. I’ve never had much luck on the receiving end of it. Capturing stills of the life around you. People. Places. -- Well in this line of work I suppose it’s less pretty but still -- Neat.”

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@drdumaurier​ said “Have you seen this before?” (for Malcolm?)

Bright’s attention was almost solely on the elaborately detailed case spread across a couple glass whiteboards. Eyes shifted from one detail to the next. No hesitation in his eyes as he looked over some of the more gruesome crime scene photos. In all honesty, there was an art to these murders. Bright knew some of his comments as such rubbed most people the wrong way but with these, he doubted anyone would disagree with him. It wasn’t just him being utterly fascinated in things that made most people uncomfortable, it was a very just descriptor here.

“Incredible...” Bright let out to himself before shaking his head in an attempt to garner his focus as he turned his head towards the good doctor. “Sorry -- what?” Just a second and what he’d heard processed fully and Bright’s brow rose. “Yes and no -- Well,” he gestured to the boards with a shake of his head. “Not fully. Not pieced together at last. I of course studied the Chesapeake Ripper at the Academy,” he pointed out with a tilt of his head side to side as if that were obvious. “Even with Lecter behind bars, there is still much to learn from his case. Well. I suppose behind glass?” He turned his head back towards the case files. “I heard they pretty much have him in a big fish tank,” he commented calmly but his hands slid into his pant pockets where they wouldn’t noticeable fidget. 

There were some uncomfortable comparisons to be made between his father and Lecter. Charming, affluent men in the medical community, fooling everyone for years behind lies and false smiles. Now locked up in hospitals for the criminally insane. This wasn’t even Bright’s office. Home was New York but he was using up some stacked up vacation days for this visit. Maybe finding answers in other cases would help him find some of his own. 

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🔪 (malcolm or will)

Nonverbal RP Starters -- 🔪 Point a weapon at my muse

Malcolm shifted off the hard ground when the heavy door creaked open. He’d become accustomed to the sound of Watkins’ footsteps approaching his ‘cell’. Of course it was the only sounds he heard anymore. No one was coming. No one could hear him yell. He’d thoroughly exhausted that possibility. The heavy chains keeping him tethered to the floor jangled as Bright sat up, staring tiredly at the face looming over him now and the knife pointed towards his chest. The profiler let out a breath.

“You should know, that knife of yours is a lot less threatening a week into this. These days the scariest thing you can muster is whether or not I get any water. The human body can survive weeks without food. But water? Well, we’re just not made for going over a week without it.” He still had his pluck. His unnecessary rambling off of facts. Malcolm Bright was very much not beaten yet. 

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[OPEN: Malcolm Bright. Connection: any]

“Actually. I might know how that got there.”

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it's ok, i'm here. - for malcolm? :)

Send “It’s OK. I’m here” to comfort my muse after a nightmare.

Malcolm woke up with panicked breathing and tear stained cheeks. It took him a moment to realize where he was. It was not his bedroom. It was not the sitting room sofa or any place else in their home he might have fallen asleep in. The thin green fabric above his head was that of the tent. That’s right. His father and him were out camping together. The realization did very little to calm him and it wasn’t until his dad woke to the sound of his sobs did Malcolm start to quiet down. 

The constricting feel he sensed around his body was that of his sleeping bag and it stopped making him feel trapped like his dream had made him feel. Martin’s voice called out in concern in the dark before a lantern was switched on to gently light up the tent. Malcolm’s puffy eyes and embarrassment were hushed and reassured as his father did his best to calm him down. 

“I’m – I’m sorry I woke you, dad.” Why he was apologizing, he wasn’t really sure. It was just something kids did when they were embarassed. He wiped at his eyes, other hand gripping at his dad’s shirt.

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“it’s okay. i’m here” ( for malcolm !! )

Send “It’s OK. I’m here” to comfort my muse after a nightmare.

The girl with dark, dirty hair that hung from her head. Pale skin and the golden bracelet that provided contrast against her wrist. She seemed like something out of a horror movie only it wasn’t. Just his subconscious putting him through the hell of his repressed memories. Now they were getting more and more theatrical. Flashes of himself as a boy. The trunk. Closed. Then opened. The girl in the box flashed before she stood before him, looking at him like it was his fault she was there. Bright started to squirm in his sleep. Words muttered quietly and frantically as his head thrashed to the side.

“Can’t remember – no. N-No. Don’t. Why can’t – No. Please. Back.” 

Dani had come in, no doubt concerned by the muttering or maybe she’d been looking for Gil. This was his office after all. Falling asleep at the precinct, again, had not been a part of Malcolm’s plan at all. His name was being called. First in the voice of the dead woman and then in a more familiar tone. Fists tensed and Bright’s eyes flashed open as he jolted, hands going wildly in front of his face to protect himself from nothing real. Breathing came harshly as Malcolm found Dani’s face, she kept her distance at first to make sure there wasn’t going to be another one of his run and tackle moments before he seemed lucid. Scared but lucid. 

Eyes were slightly watery, panic still in them as the detective sat down next to him. Malcolm flashed a smile for her sake, chuckling tiredly as he looked anywhere but her face. “I – I did it again. I’m sorry, I really have to stop sleeping on the job, right?” A quick side glance, to see if his joke was well received or if he’d be earning a roll of the eyes. He leaned forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees so he could bring his clasped hands in front of his mouth. 

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💬for MALCOLM i s2g

Send 💬  for me to make you a starter with a random line of dialogue from this generator.

These early morning visits were becoming closer and closer to a habit of his mother’s. His flat, although it was his mother’s building, was Malcolm’s sanctuary. Sure it wasn’t really by choice, but he didn’t tend to have people over. It left his sleeping and eating problems and general freak outs away from prying eyes like he wanted. 

Still in his pajama pants and slightly sweaty t-shirt (thanks night terrors), Malcolm hurried after his mom as she looked around his place. Just mom things like checking the horrid state of his near empty fridge and his line up of medications he set out for every morning. It was out of love he was sure but Malcolm hadn’t gotten much sleep the last week so he was getting irritated quickly. He was a grown man, didn’t want his mother snooping around his life. She was damn good at it too.

“Try focussing more on your life and less on mine!” He snapped dryly, sounding tired as he rubbed at his eyes. The bags there hadn’t faded much, he’d only gotten about an hour or two of sleep that night. “Why are you here, mother?”@surgeonwedded

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@detectivepowell​ said:‘what if we put strawberries on pizza?’

“Sure. Go right ahead,” Malcolm quipped, knowing full well he wasn’t going to eat it anyways. He definitely wasn’t feeling hot tomato sauce and cheese sitting in his stomach right now. He might nibble on a few strawberries though if they were put in front of him. “Lemme guess, you’re one of those people who like pineapple on pizza? I knew it.”