onlyhearmusic | [the last voyages] ic inbox

No, no and no, preferably.

[Since Collins didn't push past, it cost Raylan nothing to step out of the way and gesture for Collins to walk on so he can fall into stride anyway. He disliked talking about this stuff in the eye of the General Public, for the sake of everyone. Business wasn't meant to be spread.]

I want to talk to you about your situation and what you should be expectin' to see of me over this month we're assigned to each other. I ain't got no problem bein' the bane of your existence; won't be the first or last time for me bein' in that position. But you deserve a fair shot at understandin' how I'd like to see things go regardless.

You got a preference on where we start?

Of course ya have been, yer a copper. It's yer fuckin' job ta be.

[As they always are. If he had the capacity for it, he would draw the man's own gun and shoot him with it. That's what happened to the last two coppers that tried to stop him. They weren't amongst the living anymore.

Collins's eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare and then with a huff he began walking again.]

No, I told ya already: I don't care about anything ya have ta say.

Federal actually, though I'm used to people thinkin' they're the same thing.

[Collins was kept on Raylan's left, the side away from his gun, a lifetime of habit setting the Marshal up for the possibility of his gun getting grabbed. It wouldn't happen, of course, and attempts were a good way to get dead.

He continues, unperturbed:]

Since you don't have a preference, let's start with what you and Ulla. And what you ain't got anymore. You not care about that?

Yer all tha same.

[Local or federal didn't matter to him. They were all a pain in the ass when they got in the way. He'd hunted all across the eastern coast and no matter where he went the lawmen always were one of two things: smart enough to leave him alone, or dead for getting in his way.

It didn't matter now. Nothing did.

As soon as Givens mentioned Ulla, Collins's jaw clenched in anger. Oh, despite his devil-may-care attitude, that one certainly hit a nerve. He cared about that.]

It don't fuckin' matter. Tha witch is tha same as tha rest of ya.

Point in case.

[The clenched jaw wasn't missed, though Raylan doesn't react to it at all.]

Somehow I doubt that it doesn't matter. Otherwise you wouldn't've had it out with her over her liftin' it.

You wanna elaborate what the rest of us are?

[Collins's eyes flicked over towards Givens for a second and back to where he was going again.]

No, I don't.

[He was done repeating himself to all the wardens. It didn't make a difference, and it never would because that was the whole point of being a prisoner.]

Mm.

So you'd rather suffer for the hellva it to prove how unreasonable and cruel we are? Don't make a lot of sense, to me.

[Collins shook his head.]

No, but ya do like ta make assumptions, tha lot of ya.

[He kept walking without elaborating for a moment, but before Givens could speak again the killer took a sharp breath and spoke again.]

I ain't goin' ta change. [He stopped walking and looked Givens dead in the eye.] I'm not here for redemption. I'm not here for changin'. I am here for one reason: an asshole brought me here, and now you all have ta deal with it.

[Raylan stops with him, looking over with an attentive, if not very indicative of any particular feeling, expression.]

And right now, I ain't here to argue that point of view with you. We've got a month; I don't expect to be makin' you change your mind about that. What I do hope to do, is get you and your situation to a better level ground. There's already enough hell to be passed around, with the floods and the breaches.

No. You don't.

[He turned roughly and began to stalk away, headed for the stairs to get to another level. Any other level.]

Ya say ya do, but the truth is ya want me ta sit, heel, lay down like a good dog and that ain't happenin'.

[Raylan longsteps after him, catching up easily.]

That's just what you've convinced yourself that anyone with authority wants. Likely because that's the only kinda authority you might've seen and my opinions on the quality of that authority aside, this ain't the big house, this ain't Sing-Sing or Alcatraz - [Insert your favorite state prison here.] and the Admiral doesn't pull in suckers for the rest of us to piss on to feel better about ourselves.

That is what they want, because that's tha only way ta deal with people that don't conform ta their society. Ya do as yer told, ya do what everyone else does, or ya don't do any of it at all.

[He paused on the stairs to glance at Givens again.]

Do ya know who I am?

[Raylan stops, left hand on the railing and looks at Collins from under the brim of his hat, eyebrows raised slightly over an unimpressed face.]

I know what you are. Murderer, unrepentant, kill for the thrill of it, or so I've heard, and part of a string of brutal crimes in the same place that Arthur Lester comes from. [He'd seen plenty of that kind of man. Plenty of ugly, plenty of blood, plenty of 'for the hell of it' evil. Collins wasn't standing above a crowd of any type.]

Who you are? I don't think we can get to that inside a month and philosophy ain't exactly my strong suit.

[He smiled at the description. He didn't want to be above any of that. That was exactly who he was. And that was all that mattered.]

Right ya are. I'm the Butcher. [He started walking again.] And that's that.

No. You're a butcher. And right now, an ineffective one. Which, by the way, ain't really on the option for negotiation.

[He didn't feel the need to toot his own horn in return.]

Now that we've sorted that out, would you mind if we got back to the business of the day?

Not where I came from, bull. People know who I am. It's the Butcher.

[He snorted.]

Ya got as long as it takes ta get back ta me room.

[Which was one floor away and seeing as they were just about down with the stairs... not much longer. Unless Givens wanted to play hard ball.]

You're not where you're from. Here, you're just Dennis Collins, one strike away from bein' a ghost. You wanna suffer for the hellva it, I won't stop you but at this point it is fully your choice.

[Once they're out of the stairwell, it's easy to stay at his side and Raylan's got no problem getting ahead the one stride needed to block Collins's door.]

We'll be doin' face to face check ins daily. Give me that and I'll otherwise try to stay outta your hair, bad behavior aside. I know you don't care about this shit and that's fine, but that doesn't mean we're not gonna work it. You say no, we'll do this little run around each time for the whole month.

[He stopped to glare at Givens as he blocked the door. He was half an ounce of will power to rolling his eyes but managed to keep his gaze straight and angry.]

What difference does it make then? I ain't gotta agree, you've already made tha decision fer me. Now move.

I got responsibilities to fulfill, and it's your choice how much of your time you waste doin' this particular little dance.

[He is not, in fact, going to move just yet.]

When you decide you're tired of bein' off key, you let me know. I've got no reason to have her keep it on you, but it comin' off is a ball still in your court.

[Now he shifts to step outta the way.]

Be seein' you tomorrow then.

[His jaw clenched again as Givens's words hit their mark. Collins didn't say another word, however; he simply went back inside his room once the lawman stepped aside.]

[True to his word, Raylan didn't linger around or otherwise hang around any place he didn't normally in his existence on the Barge - he let Collins be. Until the next day, anyway. Raylan was a man of his word and the only way to keep being known as that was to follow up with his promises, but that didn't mean he had to go full asshole about it.

No one was strong armed into help and he'd well learned that lesson.

So he let Collins be the next morning, opting instead to show up in the Library while the man was on shift, with a small stack of books tucked under his arm, eyes sweeping for whereabout Collins might be. Once he found him, he ambles up with a lift of his chin.]

Afternoon.

Afternoon.

[He responded back out of sheer societal duty. His voice was low and flat and disinterested. He didn't stop what he was doing--arranging books on a shelf--nor glance towards Givens. Hearing the voice was enough to know that he wasn't interested in the person speaking to him.

The books though, the books he handled with care. If Givens stood there long enough he might see Collins finger an engraved spine gently for the texture of it or notice him reading the blurb within the novel's cover if he was interested in the material. Otherwise, his motions were efficient but careful as he moved the pieces of literature around.]

Figured while I was comin' to check in with you, I'd return a few books I'd been meaning to.

[he lifts his chin a little at the stacks.]

I take it you like books?

Check in's at tha front counter. Ya return tha books there ta be properly processed.

[Please, do you know how libraries work, lawman?]

Aye, I do.

Wasn't askin' for directions, but I'll get 'em there. [He wasn't sharp about it or anything, treating the brush off more like 'helpful' direction that he wasn't asking for. Manners had their place.]

This place got anythin' specific that garners your interest?

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