[008]

[bloodsugar]

A): phone - mid-morning.

[OPEN;]

[one hazard of spending a good deal of your time lurking on the phone lines is that one might become prone to forgetting that people can HEAR you while you listen. so, it's entirely innocent, of course, when the half-absent and somewhat petulant mumble comes across the phone lines sometime this morning.]

...all this talk of Valentines Day... honestly! As if they're rubbing it in some of us are destined to be forever alone. 'Vow of celibacy'? More like vow of perpetual and ongoing boredom.

[...a pause.]

It's not like I wanted to find out what a romantic holiday with another human being is like, regardless... eh? I'm sure edible underwear isn't all it's cracked up to be, anywa--

[...]

Eh? [wait for it.]

AH--

[...there's a rather flustered squawk, and a hasty CLICK of the phone into the cradle.]

[filter to Charles Fei-Ong]

Alright, so maybe I'm a little late in checking in. You'll forgive me, right? After all, I'm sure you've been busy collecting recipes and taste testing! [no really are you okay... :| last time he saw you, after all, was... uh, colorful, to say the least.]

...I don't suppose you'd be up for a cup of tea, Charles? [he has a feeling you'll just bs him even if you weren't alright over the phone, anyway. CLEARLY HE MUST BE NOSY IN PERSON.]

[filter to Esther Blanchett]

Esther-- do you have a minute? There's... ah, something I wanted to ask you. [AND IT DOESN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH EDIBLE UNDERWEAR HE SWEARS DEAR GOD.]

[filter to Django]

How are you holding up, partner? I hope the radio silence is because you've been gloriously enjoying the sunshine, hm? Making up for lost time and all that...! [are you okay partner? :(]

B): action; 1648 Albright Lane - lunchtime.

[there's the smell of something burning, late in the morning approaching lunchtime -- and if Rachel or Cain follows their nose, they might find the source in the form of one (1) Abel Nightroad with his drone wife's FRILLY PINK APRON several sizes too small draped around his neck and haphazardly tied back in the process of butchering... grilled cheese. yes, he is a total failure.

...somehow, he's gotten butter all over the counter and is trying to catch an overturned bottle of orange juice that is apparently spilling its contents over and onto the floor. the pan is burning and he's jostling cups and plates, trying not to drop EVERYTHING EVER as he fumbles to cease the spill of juice fruitlessly.

NO ONE SAID YOUR DAD WAS GOOD AT BEING DOMESTIC. this is why.]

C): action; around town - afternoon.

[the tall, lanky, and often times clumsy priest is among your streets today, Mayfield! anyone similarly prone to hitting up the bakery quite often might recognize his face, or simply wish to gape at the way he's leaving cheerily with a bag under his arm and so engrossed in the effort of inhaling the vanilla frosted doughnut in his hand he is clearly not paying attention to anything else. ...like the sidewalk. which, he may or may not inevitably trip over at an uneven crack and WOEFULLY lose his doubtlessly precious bounty as the bag tumbles to spill the fruits of his labor everywhere...

...and maybe his doughnut might happen to ah. misplace... itself from his hand and end up on your face. WHAT DO?]

D): action; church - evening.

[Abel's day eventually brings him to someplace to seek solace, to rest a weary soul... or something of that effect. one who enters might be hard pressed to FIND said priest who should be more or less easy to spot on the regular, right? how many 6'4 lanky bastards in cassock ARE there in here?

...but if one is apt enough, they might notice that the Father's side of the confessional is occupied. do you care to confess? ...or notice that said Father might just be lightly snoring if you listen hard enough...]

Comments

[encored]

[it's a talent, what can he say...

but whoops, poor Abel, that attempt at offering comforting words did not work the way he'd intended it to at all!!]

Don't insult me like that. What do you think I am, a human? I'm not so frail, and I've said before that I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. How many times must I repeat myself before it actually reaches your rotted brain? [welcome to the Talking With Charles Is Like Walking In A Minefield show, try your best to step around the random explosions of anger....]

[bloodsugar]

[h-heh... HEH, he gives a little exhale on this end of the line. oops your anger doesn't faze him it's almost like he's used to being screamed at by tsunderes constantly or something...]

Feeling has nothing to do with being human. The human heart is a condition unrelated to your species, Charles. You're no more immune to pain than any of them, are you?

And you're no less of a man, human or not, to find a way to ease that pain if you can.

[encored]

[gosh you're just a tsundere magnet aren't you]

I don't want to hear a lecture from you. You don't know a thing about my kind, so don't speak as if you do. [no he's pretty much entirely right...] We're not just superior in terms of brute strength, you know?

And for your information, everything has been taken care of. I simply don't feel like entertaining company today. Is that so wrong?

[bloodsugar]

I don't need to know anything about your kind, do I? We aren't determined by what but who we are -- I know you want to believe that as much as anyone. [their talk in the church solidified as much, didn't it?] It wouldn't be fair if I held you to any different standards than those, would it?

...No, it's not... wrong. If being alone is what's best for you, then... I'd leave you be, of course. I just want to be sure that it is, even if you might not necessarily agree.

[encored]

I'm not asking you to hold me to different standards, but I will ask you to think before you speak. I'm feeling generous today, but I won't stand for it if you continue to insult me.

I'd like to think I know what's best for me after so many years, thank you very much.

[SO IRRITATED-SOUNDING. he really does think being alone is what's most suited to him, though.

that and he wants to spare Abel the sight of his house which is currently littered with broken things and possibly a dead thing......]

[bloodsugar]

[sigh Charles sigh DOES HE HAVE TO COME OVER THERE AND CHECK UP ON YOU... and make sure you're not suspiciously half-dead or something... he's getting worried, you know.]

You don't need to ask me! That's simply the truth, so take it however you want. [okay? OKAY? he's going to be your friend whether you like it or not.]

...You know, I've discovered that the saying, 'with age comes wisdom' is very deceptive.

[encored]

[HE CAN'T HOLD ALL THESE FRIENDS he's not used to so much caring!! it is flattering and gives him the warm fuzzies but it also makes him want to pitch himself off a roof...

well except for moments like now, where he just seems vaguely annoyed.]

The truth in your head, perhaps. Believe what you will, but don't inflict it upon others. [...] Are you trying to see how irritating you can get in one conversation? I don't have the patience for this.

[bloodsugar]

If you're in a bad mood, I've found that tea is particularly calming. Maybe a chamomile and honey blend? [why yes, maybe he is trying to be as irritating as possible. or he cares, one or the other. a shame being obnoxious and caring are kind of synonymous most of the time with him...]

[encored]

No. [both to being in a bad mood and wanting tea, clearly he is in perfect spirits!]

If this is about that fiasco with Johnson, we were all restored to our health at around the same time, so you needn't worry.

[bloodsugar]

[don't use the J word. Mrs. Johnson is now Voldemort. WE DO NOT SPEAKETH THINE NAME.]

Saying you're 'healthy' because it was undone isn't necessarily accurate. You hardly seem on top of the world, in any case. [he's allowed to worry GAWSH.]

[encored]

[hopefully she won't gain her own cult following too, that would just be unfortunate.]

I'm healthy and I'm busy, there's nothing more to it than that. [can you feel the irritation through the phone yet] But if you're so inclined to inflict your presence upon me, I'll be free later in the evening.

[after he's...cleaned up......]

[bloodsugar]

[are there bodies Charles

Charles what did you do Charles... Charles...]

This evening...? I suppose I could free up my busy schedule, if it's for you...

[encored]

[there might be.....

but Abel will never know]

I think you mean to say it's the least you can do for me, after calling just to irritate and insult me.

[bloodsugar]

[that's not creepy at all, really. not even slightly. just. totally normal and. yes.]

Me? I was expecting you to provide! What, do I have to do everything around here? [h-haha except no he'll totally make the tea.]

[encored]

[abel would be very disappointed in him and possibly disturbed if he were to find out exactly how many dead people have been in or around his house over the years....]

Given how utterly inept you are at everything you seem to do, it might be safer if I were to provide after all. But I'm not in the mood, so do something about it or there won't be any tea at all.

[bloodsugar]

So troublesome... [yes, disappointed and disturbed is quite accurate. also creeped out. but mostly disappointed and disturbed.]

I suppose I could put something together. ...Because it's you. But don't think I do this kind of thing on the fly for just anyone!

[encored]

[they are all good reactions to have, really...]

No, of course not. It isn't as though you're a bleeding heart. [rolling his eyes so hard right now]

Four or five hours time from now is ideal. Even you should manage something with that much time.

[bloodsugar]

[geez Charles. at least he isn't calling him a dog yet this time around... heh.]

I think I'll manage...! With your high praises, I should be more than capable.

[encored]

[small miracles!!]

I'm leaving before I start to feel ill. Good day. [CLICK what are manners they must be some kind of vegetable]

[bloodsugar]

[no wonder you're so short didn't mama tell you to eat your veggies...

...WHATEVER he'll kill some time before tea. he can do this, derping around like a boss. don't judge.]

[encored]

[the one he had in Mayfield did, and then threw tomatoes at his head, but that is another story entirely.....

ANYWAY he's beginning to sorely regret inviting company over the longer the hours drag by because he really doesn't want to do any cleaning or getting rid of bodies or any of that jazz. but he'll do it anyway since he's so nice, aren't you lucky Abel....]

[bloodsugar]

[w o w Charles don't do him any favors or anything...

...what is this tomato story he wants to hear it... no really, you need to share all the things. that's what friends do, right? tell embarrassing stories about themselves! yeah!

there's a knocking at your door about five hours from the phone call's resolution. CHAAA~RLES, open UUUP...]

[encored]

[there are many encounters that ended similarly when vietnam was here.... it should be a bound book of mayfield stories: the adventures of babby bat and mamanam

and

oh

he just kind of looks up in the direction of the door when he hears the knock and sinks further into the chair he's sitting in. is it too late to change his mind.....]

[bloodsugar]

...Oi! Charles. I can hear you breathing.

[no he can't alskjdf but he's just being annoying OPEN THE DOOR HE KNOWS YOU'RE IN THERE...

aka no he'll just pick the lock remember that conversation they had about that once upon a time, little bat...]

[encored]

[HE'S DEALT WITH PEOPLE WHO COULD DO THAT BEFORE so it's a little alarming......

but you know what instead of going to open the door like a polite host he's going to mosey over to the window next to it and peek out instead]

I've changed my mind.