021 - malcolm is a maudlin drunk.

[fuckitybye]

[Audio. Malcolm's Glaswegian accent has thickened considerably.]

What's the fucking point, yeah? Bein' a useless cunt out here in the fucking ... arse-end of the fucking universe, not a fucking friend in sight and your family gone and fucking ... superheroes and things'll rip your fucking throat out and ... this is supposed to help?

Fuck this cack-brained shit in the ear with a fucking screwdriver.

[Click. Audio off. He'll respond to anyone who feels like hassling him via journal, but some time later, anyone wandering up on deck will find Malcolm standing at the railing staring morosely off into the distance. In his left hand he clutches his useless Blackberry and this photograph. Feel free to come spam Malcolm and, if you dare, ask him about the photograph. Also, sorry for spamming with Malc posts this morning. Done now.]

Comments

[Spam]

[fuckitybye]

[He kind of starts a little at the shoulder pat. People are usually too afraid to touch Malcolm, much less give a comforting pat. And then, continuing in the talking-at vein, he keeps going.]

She called me, yeah? It's your fiftieth fucking birthday, she said, at least come home and have a nice dinner. Told her I didn't care whose fucking birthday it was. Spent the evening trying to unfuck that Murray-Mannion debacle. And Tom sent me a fucking cake. Know what it had on it? [He barely waits for a response.] "Happy Birthday C-Star-N-T." Fucker.

[Incidentally, Iroh might notice that Malcolm sports a wedding band on his left hand, from which Conclusions May Be Drawn.]

[fuckitybye]

Wasn't trying to be fucking creative.

[fuckitybye]

Dear Colonel Oversexby,

I thought you were dead of the fucking plague.

Sincerly,
Malcolm Tucker Not King Charles Fuck Off

[accountsettled.livejournal.com]

Oh, but my majesty, I came back just to make sure you didn't go and lose your head.

[christ-onabike.livejournal.com]

Well, you fucking were. Don't come to fucking work today, if you're as pissed as you sound.

[fuckitybye]

The fuck is this shit anyway? I've barely touched a fucking drop since I got here. I don't fucking drink half the time. I don't have the fucking time.

...it's the fucking flood, innit?

[fuckitybye]

Just fucking stop it, yeah? Just because I look like that fucking tosspot don't mean you can dump all your fucking issues with him in my lap.

[christ-onabike.livejournal.com]

...fuck if I know, mate. Fuck if I know. I bet it is the flood. Even so, don't come to fucking work, I'm not letting you near a knife.

[accountsettled.livejournal.com]

Oh, I do not have a siiiiiiiingle issue with him. Not at all.

I just happen to like him a couple of inches shorter.

[fuckitybye]

Ta. Wouldn't want myself near a fucking knife. Might ... [mumble grumble incomprehensible blargh.]

[christ-onabike.livejournal.com]

...yeah, it's probably fucking sensible. You ought to get some fucking tea, mate.

[fuckitybye]

...fucking Christ am I glad you're still in the fucking infirmary.

You are, aren't you?

[fuckitybye]

Aye. Tea. Yeah, that'll ... yeah.

[accountsettled.livejournal.com]

Well, depends if Martha'll let me out...

And I would not chop your head off, sir. Once is enough for a lifetime, I do believe.

No, sorry, correction. Twice.

[christ-onabike.livejournal.com]

Try and sober up, at least.

[Spam]

[grand-lotus.livejournal.com]

[Iroh is all about fearless comforting pats! He's noticed the ring, too, but as far as he's aware it's just jewellery. Culture is hard.]

Ahh, I see. [He folds his hands on the railing.] I have had my fair share of regrets....events that passed me by before I could truly recognise how important they were. Sometimes that is the way of things - sometimes we cannot know what we value until we look back at its loss and feel deep grief.

[Action Spamalamadingdong]

[doeswhatido.livejournal.com]

[[Malcolm, do you hear those footsteps behind you? Of course not—they're rather inaudible, after all.

So it might be a little surprising when 47 turns up a few feet away, looking out at the view. He doesn't turn to Malcolm as he speaks.]]

What is it you see?

[Spam]

[fuckitybye]

[Long, slightly bemused, drunken stare.]

You always fucking like this?

[fuckitybye]

Twice? The fuck?

[fuckitybye]

Gonna do my level best, believe me. Christ.

[Spam]

[grand-lotus.livejournal.com]

[Serene smile. Really the only difference between drunk Iroh and sober Iroh is that sober Iroh tends to leave people alone when they look as miserable as Malcolm does.]

Not always. Usually. I was a different man when I was younger.

Re: [Action Spamalamadingdong]

[fuckitybye]

[AAAH FUCK. Be glad you didn't startle him enough to make him drop his Blackberry or the photo, 47, or you'd never hear the end of it. He slews around tipsily to glare at 47.]

What I see is a big fucking baldy creeper.

[Spam]

[fuckitybye]

Yeah, well, weren't we fucking all.

[Another morose glance at the photograph.]

This is why I don't fuckin' drink. Slows me down and gets me fucking ... [with remarkable venom for a drunk man] thinking.

[Spam]

[grand-lotus.livejournal.com]

There's nothing wrong with slowing down and thinking, sometimes.

[some-kinda-hero.livejournal.com]

I'm your friend. Or...at least, I thought I was.