almightythirst | Deerington Inbox

[ There's a package sitting on Jesse's end table. It's literally a box of bullets.

A note is attached, written in Japanese: ]

'Special delivery. Have fun. Be good.'

[ When Jesse does eventually wake up and get his wits back about him at the end of the month, the gift goes a long way in putting him in a better mood. Oh, he'll have fun with these alright. ]

[There's a box on the doorstep. A box wrapped in bright red foil, a silky silver ribbon tied around it with a bow on top. Inside the box is a new cowboy hat in black, plus some fresh apples wrapped up in terry cloth. On top of the pile is a simple piece of white cardstock paper with elegant cursive words penned in red ink (notice a pattern?), as if written with a quill or a fountain pen.

Happy holidays

PS: Apples are for the horse..

Who could have sent it? Well, all that red looks a lot like the red a certain someone likes to wear, right?]

[ A horse brush and a flashbang, along with a packet of cookies. They're still warm... ]

Didn't know what kind to get, so I took the clerk's recommendation. Take care of yourself out there.

[There is a small gift at his door. It's wrapped in gleaming silver wrapping paper with a little note scrawled in black on its top.]

Happy Holidays

To: Jesse
From: Justine

[Inside he'll find a scarf made for a cowboy.]

[A neatly wrapped box is delivered containing an assortment of chocolate and gingerbread cutout cookies - enough to share between everyone in the house.

With it is a small hand-written note, the chicken-scratch writing just barely legible:]

Happy holidays.

- B

[It's a box! And inside...is a soft leather coat, with beard oil, a leathercare kit and...

Are those...Hershey kisses...???

In one of the coat pockets is a note.]

I try to say something about the kisses, but every time I get flustered. Happy holidays Jesse. I'm glad we're together.

-R.

[ The package in shimmering silver paper is a little crudely wrapped - what's inside is oddly shaped. Someone wasn't able to do a good job here but it's certain that an attempt was made - that's the main thing isn't it?

Hidden within is a small, hand-carved deer - no bigger than the palm of an average human hand. Much like the wrapping paper, the figure is a little on the crude side: there's nothing startlingly expert in the craftsmanship. But someone's clearly taken their time to carve the little deer and tried their best - even the roughest edges have been sanded down a little. Eyes, noses and hooves have been coloured with a black marker.

With the deer, a small, simple note that reads: ]

merry christmas
from scarlett

[ There's a box left by his door, large enough to hold a painting (that she personally thinks is hilarious, thanks) and a bottle of whiskey with a bow on it. A small note is also attached. ]

Happy Holidays, cowboy.
No worries about the booze - I didn't steal it, I had someone buy it all nice and proper.
Honest!
- Chloe

[On Christmas Day McCree will find poseable metal horse, a box of assorted chocolates, and a box of cigars. The following note reads:

Merry Christmas! xoxo Hana ♥]

[ It's too bad that Chloe isn't around to see Jesse open the gift. His laugh fills the house with a warmth it hasn't seen in a good few months, and the painting gets a place of honor on the wall in the front room. ]

[ If Moira's texting him privately, you know it can't be a good thing. ]

Tell me you're still well enough to use this damned thing, I need to talk to you.

Glad your bedside manners haven't changed at all.

But yeah, well enough. What do you want?

[ He doubts she's just messaging him to check in. ]

I'd offer witty retorts, but I think it might make me seem disingenuous at the moment.

It's Angela. I don't know if she made it public knowledge that she was ill, but she was. It won; she's dead. I imagine she'd want you to know.

[ There is clearly a reason she was never assigned to be the one to deliver these kinds of things to grieving widows. ]

[ There's a long bit of radio silence while Jesse stares at his screen, processing that. He knows Moira well enough to know this isn't a sick joke. Not from her. Not about Angela.

And it makes sense. It makes too much damned sense. ]

Were you there?

[ It's amazing how much she doesn't want to answer that. Even debated not answering it, if the time it takes for her to respond is any indication. But she supposes that it's not fair to anyone to withhold information - she's always been forthcoming with in regards to most things, after all. ]

Yes.

[ Jesse has done his fair share of breaking bad news. He hates it, but he isn't bad at navigating those situations after Blackwatch. Whether he is faking it or not, he knows how to go through the motions of comfort.

With Moira though… strangely enough, it calls for an honesty he’s not sure what to do with. Bland condolences won’t do it. But in his own grief, he can’t bring himself to lash out at her either. At least not without proof that she’d had some hand in the way things had gone.

Which he will look for, after. But he can reign in judgment until then. ]

She’s coming back. People do that here.

[ But that’s a cold comfort, and he knows it. ]

Least she wasn’t alone.

She'll feel worse and we don't know the long term damage. Nor are we certain that it's the same for natural deaths as it is for unnatural. No one has come back from the virus yet to confirm it.

[ It sounds so factual, like she's looking at observational information and not owning up to be afraid that she's lost her for good. In her right state of mind, she'd see it as illogical conclusion jumping, but she's far from that. ]

Do you really think that that makes it easier? Not being alone, I mean.

I think if it were me, I wouldn't have wanted to be alone.

[ Not that it's something he's thought a lot about: dying alone. ]

And like it or not, this place has rules. She'll be back. Then we'll deal with the rest.

[ He's not half as confident as he might come across, but Jesse writes it out for his own sake much as for Moira's. Seeing it on a screen helps. Makes it feel like a better possibility. Gives him something to do with his hands. ]

Make sure you don't end up in that situation. I don't need the migraine from how many people would bemoan your loss.

I used to think so. This virus has made me question a number of things about this place. I suppose we'll see who's right.

Be careful now. That was almost a compliment.

And I guess we will. No offense, but I'm hoping I'm right about this one.

How careless of me.

And for once, so am I.

[ It's a real pain in the ass to want to drink, but not wanting to drink alone. Especially when the two people she would normally have gone to are not particularly high on her list of those she wants to be speaking to at the moment. While she'd been good about making acquaintances, she wasn't sure that any of them were really capable of holding their own against her with a bottle of whiskey, and most of them didn't even seem old enough to drink. Why did this place kidnap so many damned children?

It was all those unfortunate predicaments that had led her to Jesse's door with a bottle under her arm, lifting her hand to knock, hoping he was actually at home. What if he was with his girlfriend? Ugh.

She probably should have texted first. Oh well. ]

[ There’s the sound of several locks being undone before the door opens, revealing a rather rumpled and puzzled-looking McCree. Despite what some people may think, he doesn’t keep the full cowboy garb on all the time. Currently, he’s sporting a pair of gray sweatpants and a reddish-orange t-shirt, half tucked-in. His hat hanging on a hook by the door.

He’d looked out the window before opening the door- of course, he knows better- so he’d known it was Moira on the other side. There’s a question in his eyes that he doesn’t ask as he leans against the doorframe, glances down at the bottle, then back up to her face. ]

Hey.

[ He lets the word sit there, totally inadequate and leaving more than enough room for something else to fill the silence after it. Like an explanation, or at least some clue as to what’s going on. Surely this can't be just a social call...? ]

[ Somehow him being home is worse. She could have at least felt like an idiot and just walked away if he hadn't been. Now she has to actually figure out how to do this without making a mess of it. It's not the first time she's seen him out of his cowboy outfits, but it had been quite a while, so she can't stop the surprise of it from throwing her for a moment. After all, she doesn't look much different than usual - the same stiff button ups, the same slacks, though she's at least sans-tie. That's gotta mean something.

She clears her throat after too awkward a silence and just standing there and holds up the bottle for him. ]

Tell me you can still hold your own against me. I don't think anyone else here has the tolerance to join me.

Deerington Inbox

delivery

<3 !!!

delivery on the 21st

Sometime around the 25th, a Delivery Dog arrives with the following

Delivery on the 24th via Delivery Dogs

Delivery on the 24th via Delivery Dogs

A delivery via delivery dogs

around the 20th

delivered around the 30th

late christmas present my bad

Re: delivered around the 30th

text; un: odeorain - sent early in the morning on the 28th;

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early march sometime

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