malcohen

[malcohen]

where: decker & associates who: @sawyerdecker & malcolm cohen

Malcolm nervously tugged at his tie, being careful not to loosen the garment for fear that it would fall right off and he'd be up a creek without a paddle, but god damn was it uncomfortably tight. He'd seen the ad go up online for a personal assistant, and after much consideration and plenty of late-night discussions with Logan and El, he figured he'd might as well give it a go. Plus, if he was going to continue his degree, he needed to have a job that gave him a higher income than being a bouncer at The Raven would afford him -- but still, as he sat on the couch in the waiting area, he couldn't help but feel like a fish out of water.

He spotted Sawyer from the corner of his eye, and immediately shot up from his seat to face her. They hadn't formally met before, but he'd seen her plenty of times from afar at certain functions, and knew that Logan's sister had put in a good word for him. Hopefully that was enough given his less-than-impressive resume. "Hi -- Ms. Decker, I'm Malcolm. Malcolm Cohen." He extended a hand, offering his best attempt at a friendly grin. "Thanks for, uh, takin' the time to meet with me today."

[malcohen]

"Babe, I told you -- with these guns, I don't need a basket." Malcolm joked, flexing his arms playfully before the blonde started taking things from his grasp. Brows arched when Logan spoke next, her tone of voice telling him that there was definitely a bit of juicy gossip coming his way. Honestly, he was a great person to gossip to -- mostly because he was good at keeping a secret and his memory was shit -- something that his girlfriend must have picked up on by now. "Okay -- hm, that depends. Are you going to be okay with kissing a mouth that smells like salt and vinegar and tobacco?" A slight smirk tugged at his lips, only a moment later parting in shock when Logan dropped that bit of news. "Wait, wait...your sister Lydia? The one that found a five dollar bill on the floor of the coffee shop we went to and spent the next fifteen minutes figuring out who it belonged to?" In the almost year that he'd known the woman, he'd quickly picked up on the fact that she had strong morals and a type-a personality. "No fucking way. What happened? Does he know? Who -- okay, wait, did she actually cheat on him, or did she just accidentally wink at someone else?"

"See? I told you we should've grabbed a basket." Logan couldn't help but smirk as she glanced over at him, with his arm full of snacks. Without hesitation, she reached over, taking a few things from his arms before he dropped everything. "Oh my god, listen to this." She exclaimed suddenly, her attention momentairly shifting to the sheleves lined with snacks. As they wandered down the aisle, she followed closely behind Malcolm, her eyes scanning the endless bags of chips. “So, Nate was over earlier installing that doggy door I bought—oh, wait, salt and vinegar?" She held up a bag for his opinion but quickly continued, "Anyways, Nate told me that Lydia told him that she cheated on Eli."

[malcohen]

"Oh? Why is that? Are we doin' some sorta secret santa thing that you're trying to get ahead of?" Malcolm teased, already putting two and two together with what Emiri was getting at but just deciding to mess with her. Her and Logan were practically inseparable, so he was honestly shocked it'd taken her this long to approach him. "Wait -- was the mug bad?" He sat up, suddenly worried that he'd dropped the ball almost a year ago without realizing it. "She said she'd liked it. And, I mean, we weren't officially dating then -- it was right before -- so I didn't want to come off too strong or nothin'." Brows narrowed, he replied, "Well, what do you think I should get her? I'm...this isn't exactly my wheelhouse."

As she listened to Malcolm she - one hundred percent - found herself wanting to blurt out how she knew it, yet she managed to rein herself in there. She'd say she was disappointed and still, perhaps it was more typical. "Me? No not really but I don't need to think, you do." Emiri wasn't generally a Christmas holiday celebrator, she did of course, mostly because the majority of people that surrounded her did, but she was definitely more into New Years and the excitement for the upcoming new year. "I just want to say, without inserting myself too much, that Logan should get more than a mug this year." not that there was anything wrong with that, so she definitely wasn't judging. "But I didn't say anything, at all, okay?"

[malcohen]

"What, wearin' white to work?" The male chuckled, shoulders raising in a light shrug. "I've been told white is timeless. Apparently anything's better than my closet full of band t-shirts, though I'm determined to make her come around." Honestly, he didn't mind all of his girlfriend's fussing over his wardrobe, finding it endearing and good at balancing out his general nonchalance. "Thanks." He caught the garment that Nate tossed him, placing it on a nearby surface as he quickly stripped his whiskey-soaked shirt off. "Yeah, it's fine. A little more lively than turnin' teenagers with fake IDs away, but the assholes we get in here ain't much compared to what I dealt with back in Boston." That city had a way of breeding some of the most aggressive individuals. He immediately felt better after slipping the new shirt on, running his fingers through his hair afterwards to dry and muss out and moisture that may have landed on his curls. "I've, uh, actually been thinking...about going back to school. Maybe. Getting my bachelor's and what not." Mal floated the idea out there, finding over the past two or so years that he valued Nate's opinions more than most.

Glancing up as the office door opened Nate's eyes dropped to Mal's shirt as he spoke, "Surprised Logan's not pulled you up on it." his return was a light tease, one that came backed with his own assumption that his sister was - or aimed to - completely tell Mal what he could or couldn't wear. Logan was insufferable like that. "But yeah I've got a couple," Nate added on as he moved out of his chair and towards the drawers in the far corner, now retrieving a black shirt he tossed it in the other's direction. "You doing okay out there? Inside, you know." as opposed to on the door, of course. Nate's question came as one that could have held different meanings, yet the most prominent one wasn't whether Mal could handle it, rather whether the people, the booze - more specifically the latter, were becoming a problem.

[malcohen]

"Oh, right -- fuck. I forgot you had that kind'a money. No offense." Malcolm laughed, wrapping his arms back around them and grinning widely for the photograph. Most of his friends back in Boston were decidedly of a much lower economic class than many of the people he'd befriended here in Tonopah, a product of the specific area he grew up in. Sometimes it was easy for him to forget that was no longer the case. "You'll have to report back so that I know what to look forward to." He requested, allowing them to hook their arms together as he was lead through the lounge. "Shit, El, you never told me how fuckin' cool it is in here. Did you decorate this place yourself?" Mal asked as he looked around, realizing that he'd never managed to pop in there before. He worked at Nate's club, sure, but that was really the only nightlife-centric place he regularly stepped foot into, and only because he was getting paid. A large grin spread across his face when El brought him into a separate section -- the Malcolm room. "Dude, for real? You didn't have to do all this. It ain't my birthday." It was touching, really, in a way that was completely unexpected. "I promise I'll shove my face with as many swedish fish as I can get my hands on, scouts honor. I'll have to make sure to leave room for cake, though -- assuming you don't got anything bigger and crazier planned to blow out your candles."

"The party is truly here!" El hugged him back tightly, swaying with him for a moment before pulling him to stand in front of the photographer. "No, I want you to enjoy yourself, not be my videographer. I actually hired people for that." They wrapped their arms around him for the first photo and then picked him up for the next while laughing. "Feels as fresh as every other age but we'll see how I feel in the morning." They finished up their photos before hooking their arm with his to lead him towards the room they usually used for open mic nights. It had been turned into a sober space option, fit with all sorts of non alcoholic drinks and things needed for mocktails along with tons of arcade games and air hockey tables. "What do you think? I call it the Malcolm room. If you don't have a sugar high in twenty minutes then I've failed. There's so much fucking food and candy in here dude."

[malcohen]

CAROLINE FORBES & STEFAN SALVATORE The Vampire Diaries (S05E04)

[malcohen]

Malcolm pursed his lips slightly, eyes squinting as he continued to look on at the piece while Ava spoke. He didn't really consider himself an unintelligent person, but at the same time he'd always found a lot of skills when it came to critical thinking, education, to simply be lacking. It was part of the reason he'd turned to drugs in the first place; to deal with his own insecurities, to numb himself from the everyday pressure that was born of the difficulties of this life. All this to say, she had a good point -- perhaps the art wasn't beyond him. Perhaps the world had simply convinced him of that.

A short laugh fell from his lips, shaking his head then. "No, no, you don't gotta apologize. I never thought of it that way." He tossed a sympathetic glance to the brunette. "Is it fair of me to say that I just think it's pretty damn ugly, then? At least, not to my taste...or maybe it's supposed to be ugly, which is what makes it....not ugly?" Okay, now he was just confusing himself even further. "I dunno. I think part of me has always been of the mind that good art's just whatever you can picture hanging above your couch or your toilet."

There'd been a time when she'd desperately wanted nothing more than to be deemed cultured enough to be on Richard's arm, constantly feeling as though she needed to better herself to put herself on his level. Playing a continuous game of catch up when he'd had decades more than her to expand his horizons and learn about the world. Art and music were two of his favourite areas to measure her knowledge and find her lacking, her understanding never as broad or in depth as his or if it was then somehow her opinion was the wrong one, insult taken at the notion she might have opposed him even briefly.

Maybe that was why the frown was so quick to settle on her brow at the word 'dumbass' and why her head began to shake almost immediately at the idea that art was meant to be something so out of reach. "I think the best art should be accessible, something that can make anyone and everyone feel something. It shouldn't have to always be some kind of test that only an elite few have the answers to. Surely the more people you can move with your creation the better?" There was a brief glance his his direction but she barely paused before she continued. "I'm not saying it can't be challenging but when it becomes something only the rich boys club can pat each other on the back for supposedly understanding is it even still art?"

As the rhetorical question hung in the air between them, cheeks began to flush at her overreaction and a sheepish half smile was offered in apology. "Sorry, I didn't mean to trap you in some kind of one-sided debate."

[malcohen]

"So." Malcolm repeated, a measured brow raised as he took in the brunette's rather prominent grin -- one that made him wonder if she had an alternative motivation for joining him that day. Either way, he didn't mind her company. Though he only just started to really get to know Emiri after he'd started dating Logan, he'd realized quickly that she was someone he enjoyed being around. "Christmas? Uh -- ain't there a rule about that? How you're not allowed to talk about Christmas until at least Halloween is over?" Malcolm let out a laugh, accepting her offer and taking a small handful of Doritos from the bag. "'Least that was the rule in my house growin' up. Why? Have you been thinking about Christmas?"

with: @malcohen where: mc clubhouse.

Seeing Mal sitting alone Emiri took that as an opportunity to take the free seat across from him - her smile was already quite a prominent feature prior to her even sitting down. Before she even spoke more then her first hey, she was already pulling out snack items from her tote bag and placing them on the table, apparently content with making herself comfy. "So..." she began as she opened a bag of Doritos and in turn offering Mal some before she even took her own, "Have you thought about Christmas yet?" it was a random question, she knew that but that season was upon for her best friend and she was typically snooping to see if Mal was even thinking of presents yet.

[malcohen]

where: the raven who: @nathaniel-donovan & malcolm cohen

If there was one thing that Malcolm hated more than obnoxious guys that wouldn't take no for an answer, it was obnoxious drunks that wouldn't either. That particular night was a busy one for the Raven, which meant that Malcolm was helping to keep an eye on things inside rather than check IDs at the door like he normally would -- which is how he spotted one guy being particularly pushy with one of the dangers. After a few attempts to peacefully intervene, the male ended up calling for back up from some of the other guards after this patron started getting mouthy, ultimately getting him kicked out on his ass -- but not before spilling his full glass of whiskey all over Mal's t-shirt.

"God dammit," he mumbled once he was back inside, tugging at the sopping-wet fabric as he headed towards the back office. The smell was strong -- pleasant, even, but Mal tried not to think too much about it. Once there, he gave a small knock on the open door before opening it further. "Hey, you got an extra shirt lyin' around here? I really need to stop comin' in here wearing white, it's like I'm asking for trouble."

[malcohen]

Malcolm's days were typically structured all the same; he'd wake up, make himself a cup of earl grey tea, and then take Pepper out with him for a jog. He'd learned in recovery that maintaining a routine was an important part of keeping himself clean and sober, not to mention it kept his mental health in check. It was almost funny -- the Boston native used to absolutely loathe mornings, more often than not getting out of bed well past noon as he dealt with the previous night's hangover. Now, it was the best part of his day.

He'd brought him and the french bulldog to a stop when he spotted Ava, a quizzical look crossing his features as she forewent a more casual greeting and asked him a question. "Uh --" he turned to face the painting in the window fully, head ever so slightly tilted. "Makes me feel..." Dark brows narrowed. "...like a bit of a dumbass?" Art was never his forte -- he didn't know what he was supposed to be looking at, just that he couldn't for the life of him desire. "Isn't the best art supposed to make you feel like that, thought?"

Somewhere Downtown with open

After years of having her schedule planned out to the last minute for her, she was still trying to figure out how best to arrange her days herself without leaving herself with an excess of time on her hands. Silence had a way of bringing unwanted thoughts with it and it had become a challenge for her each weekend to find something to occupy herself with. So far, she had mostly ended up using it as an opportunity to reconnect with her home as well as explore what had changed. Maybe a part of her was hoping to take some comfort in the fact that maybe Tonopah had changed just like she had. Her walk through Downtown had come to a halt outside of a gallery, one particular piece drawing her attention. Usually art in any form left her feeling something but this time she was struggling to find even a stirring of emotion. Frown had begun to settle onto her brow as she looked at the piece, almost certain that it was herself rather than the art that was lacking.

To prove her point to herself she turned at the sound of footsteps, words leaving her lips without any form of greeting, hand lifted to motion to the piece. “What does it make you feel?” No sooner had she caught their attention her eyes were back on the painting, wondering once again if it was supposed to invoke a feeling of a void or that was simply her view.

[malcohen]

"I have no fuckin' doubt -- happy birthday, bud." Malcolm exclaimed, pulling his friend into as big of a hug as he could muster with just one arm while the other continued to clutch his poorly wrapped gift. Honestly, he'd been a little bit nervous about attending their birthday bash -- not because of Ella, but because of the atmosphere. Bouncing at Nate's club was different, that was work. This was a party. But Ella, in all their accommodating glory, ensured him that he'd be completely comfortable with what they had in store -- and he trusted them. "Oh, good, I'm glad I got a haircut then." Malcolm absentmindedly ran his fingers through his curls (probably messing up all Logan's hard work). "I can be your scribe if you want? Write everything that happens down so you can relive the night over and over again. Or I can just record it with my phone, whatever you want. You're the birthday kid." He grinned, glancing around the lounge. "You've really fuckin' outdone yourself, E. How's the big 3-4 feelin'?"

"If you're looking for the best party of the year, you've made it." Ella was practically on cloud 9 as they greeted the next person who walked into the Lounge for their birthday party. Their edible had hit, their best friends were having a great time and there were many woman who were vying to be by Ella's side at the end of the night. A true dream come true. "We just refreshed the food bar so your timing is great but we've actually got to take a picture with each other first. I need to have a record of everyone who's here cause I sure as hell won't remember most of this tomorrow."

[malcohen]

[malcohen]

where: stopshop who: @logandonovan and malcolm cohen

"We got popcorn, diet cokes, Twizzlers, extra napkins..." Malcolm listed off the variety of food-related items currently being cradled in his arms, silently wishing he'd not been so adamant about not bringing a bag with them when Logan voiced her desire to get snacks. He was bad about keeping food in his apartment, typically getting his meals at the clubhouse or running to the corner store 'round the block from his apartment whenever he got hungry. Planning ahead was never his strong suit. "Oh -- and I need to grab from cigarettes from behind the counter. Think this is good enough to last us the night?"

[malcohen]

Malcolm let out a soft chuckle, sticking a cigarette between his lips and sparking up with his lighter. "Think it's supposed to be a catharsis type deal. Not everyone has people they feel they can share all that dark shit with." The male had started attending AA meetings back when he was in prison, and to this day found them immensely helpful in maintaining his sobriety -- but still, he could relate to the exhaustion that Maeve was speaking of. "Guess it's kind of a good thing, y'know? Means we'll leave meeting and just be too tired to go and get fucked up." He smirked, exhaling a plume of smoke. "I could use a cup of tea or somethin', though, to mellow out. You in?"

@malcohen

Location: Leaving an NA Meeting

Maeve had been attending at least two meetings a week, and while she didn't exactly dread the meetings themselves, she dreaded the emotional exhaustion that always followed. "Some of the things they say in there," she began, shaking her head as she and Malcolm exited the building. "You don't always have to give so much detail. That shit leaves you so drained sometimes, ya know?" Though she tried not to complain too much about them, considering that they were actually helpful.

[malcohen]

where: outside malcolm's apartment who: @ella-cooper & malcolm cohen

"Holy fuck, my shins are killing me." Malcolm groaned as he slowed to a stop on his roller skates, bending over to sit himself on the curb. "I'm seriously so out of practice. You wanna know the last time I put these shits on? Literally, like, seven or eight years ago back when I was living in Boston." Before prison, that is. "I'm the best shape of my life and riding a few miles down the road fucking winds me. Make it make sense." He shook his head, beginning to unlace his skates. "Anyway, you hungry? I got a shit ton of sandwich stuff in my fridge. Most of it expires tomorrow so, uh, I'm really lookin' to use it before I gotta toss it."

[malcohen]

Malcolm's cheeks were beginning to hurt because of how widely he was smiling, and as he looked up at Cole, eyes filled with admiration, with awe, he realized then just how far he had come. From freshly out of prison and down on his luck, nothing to his name aside from an old truck and a lonely dog from the Humane Society, terrified of the real world and how he would handle being back in it -- and now? Malcolm felt like it had it all; a band of brothers who cared about him, a place where he could feel worthy, a girlfriend who was way out of his league but who saw him for who he wanted to be. Never in a million years did he think he'd be in such a good place, a happy place, but here he was.

Reaching out, he gave Cole a clap on the shoulder. "Think so." He replied with a nod. "I'm indebted to you, man. Really." And even that was putting it lightly. For all the ways Cole had stuck his neck out for Malcolm, being there for him not only as a mentor but as a friend, he'd forever be grateful for. "I promise I won't put this cut to shame. Not now, not ever."

Watching as Mal held the patch in his hands, Cole couldn’t help the warm grin that spread across his lips– to him, it was something akin to a child on Christmas morning, marveling at whatever present they’d been gifted. That was good, though– it showed Cole just how much this meant to Malcolm, though he’d never had any doubt. From the moment he’d been brought on as a prospect, it’d been clear how dedicated the younger man was. “Sorry,” he supplied with a smirk and a soft snort of laughter, showing just how not sorry he really was for the scare they’d given him. It was all part of that rite of passage into the brotherhood they’d created, and he was glad that Malcolm had crossed over into that. 

“Sounds ‘bout right,” Cole chuckled at hearing that Malcolm felt overwhelmed. That was usually the way it went, and it just further proved how much this brotherhood meant to all of those who crossed into it. Hearing how excited he was to tell Logan all about it, Cole couldn’t help the way his grin grew even more. It was one thing to have this sort of accomplishment to lean on, but to get to share it with someone? That was something else entirely. “Ya deserve this, Mal. Ya earned it.” Cole had never been one to hand out empty compliments– if he said it, it was wholly what he meant, and he hoped Mal realized that whenever he said that the younger man deserved this.  Snorting a laugh at Mal’s question, Cole shrugged, “Now? Well…tonight, we fuckin’ celebrate.” Beyond that? Tomorrow could figure out itself. But for now, Cole wanted Mal to fully immerse himself in this celebration– this celebration that was solely for him. He was front row center, as he deserved to be, and tonight was all about pushing that to the forefront. He held up a hand, pausing just for the briefest moment, “And then tomorrow, we get to work.” Though really, their agenda wasn’t exactly packed full, earning their newest patch the chance to sleep in. But that respite wouldn’t last for long. For now, though? Cole just wanted Malcolm to bask in the newness of being a full patch. “Think ya can handle that?”

[malcohen]

PAUL MESCAL Gladiator II - Featurette