first { video

[gleans]

[ The communicator comes on in the middle of some confused button-pressing, so don't be alarmed when it goes from video to audio, then back to video. Have a nice view of Galen's face at an awkward angle. ]

-- ou mean, new home? What the hell does that mean? Hello? Jesse?

[ The angle gets a little less weird as he lifts the communicator to eye level and peers at it under his glasses. He then drops them back onto his nose and moves his arm back a few inches from his face, showing the ajar front door of one of the houses (number sixteen, actually) behind him. ]

Hello? Can anyone hear this? What the fuck just happened to me? [ He swallows anxiously and looks around the area outside the house. ] ... Hello?

Comments

[gleans]

[ This... is so... weird. Galen follows him in, but leaves the front door ajar - no way in hell is he following Cowboy McGrunty inside without an escape plan - and stays a couple feet back at all times. The camera gets a long look, too. -- Wait, what, is that whiskey? He blinks at it, then at Forrest. ]

Whoa -- whoa. Dude, just -- y'know, thanks for the hospitality, but I'd really, really love to know where I am. And who you are. And -- why there are fucking -- cameras. [ Points! ] Is this a fucking joke?

[aintdancing]

[ When Forrest looks up it's quite stern--perhaps there's a bit of a warning in his eyes, too, but just as quickly his gaze drops to the mason jar where he takes a sip of his own, watching the other.

Might as well give him an explanation. When he speaks his voice is thick with a southern drawl--Virginia, to be exact. But it's surprisingly quiet and gentle despite the rather intimidating figure he has. ]

Now I'll be the first to admit I don't quite know what's goin' on here. [ A nod to the wrist communicator. ] But I do know one thing.

[ Huh. His tea is getting cold on the counter. Forrest takes a sip just because half the reason he poured his own jar of whiskey was to show Galen it wasn't poisoned. ]

I know that this place ain't like anything I've seen and probably something you haven't seen, either.

[gleans]

[ Galen crosses his arms over his chest, eyes edging up to that camera every once in a while. Who the hell is watching this? He starts chewing at his lower lip, a bad habit. ]

No -- yeah, no kidding. This 'welcome to your new home' bullshit? You just -- did you wake up here like that, too?

[aintdancing]

[ Forrest nods. He woke up thinking he was dead, of course, but--more or less. And that's not exactly something you share with a stranger, even if you're an immortal Bondurant, even if you have the neck scar from when someone cut your throat and you managed to survive even that. ]

Assumin' you got this house, too?

[gleans]

[ God. He's not sure if that makes him feel better or worse. He swallows. ]

Uhhh. Fuck. Maybe? The thing mentioned a house number, but I missed it. ... How many other people are here, exactly?

[aintdancing]

[ He shrugs, but it's a genuine 'I don't know' this time. ]

Reckon people'll be tryin' to reach ya on yer wrist. Y'gotta name?

[gleans]

[ He glances down at the communicator. Huh. ]

Uh -- it's Galen. Galen Howard.

[aintdancing]

[ Excuse Forrest as he gives an odd look over at Galen's name--it's strange, but in this little place? There's always stranger. ]

Well, Galen, let me tell you somethin'. Don't matter where you're from, you're here now, and you shouldn't just make the best of it. [ He's finished his tea, though. Set it down. ]

Y'gotta control it.

[gleans]

[ It wouldn't be the first time. He untenses a little, but still looks a little guarded, leaving the whiskey where it is. He appreciates the gesture, but it's the last thing he needs right now. ]

What exactly do you mean by that?

[aintdancing]

[ Forrest's response is a small grunt, though he does pick up his own jar of whiskey. Sips it thoughtfully for a few moments, trying to explain. ]

Folks that come here are scared. It's controlling that fear that's going to get you to a place you can handle.

[gleans]

Oh. Huh. Yeah, that makes sense. I guess it's hard to deal with anything if you have the shit scared out of you... which, not gonna lie, I kinda do. But. Hah. I can deal.

[ He shifts his feet, then -- ]

Hey, did I get your name?

[aintdancing]

No.

[ Don't want to share the booze? That's fine. Forrest glances over at the empty room. ]

Forrest. I'm a Bondurant--and that might not mean nothin' here but it means a mighty lot in Franklin County. [ does he like puffing his chest out? No. IT's stupid, and redundant, but right now he views it the quickest way to get from point A to point B. ]

Says y'gotta go to a house. This the one?

[gleans]

[ Huh. Noted. Then Galen frowns a little and looks at the device on his wrist. ] Uh -- I'm actually not sure. I think I missed that part. But -- y'know, if you don't mind, while I get my bearings?

[aintdancing]

Don't matter nothin'. Just clean up after yourself. [ That's a yes. Forrest does, however, raise an eyebrow. And, for all of his 1930s lawless moonshining demeanor, he tilts his head to the side. ]

Y'want some tea if yer not gonna drink anythin' stronger?