[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

[bloodsugar]

[SIGHING, he leans back and picks at his earwax... WHATEVER...]

What makes you think I have anything to confess? And, no offense, but confessing to you just seems like a bad idea. I have a feeling my woes and crisises of morality would end up somehow planted in the daily paper.

[but wait there is a far more pressing matter at hand!!!] ...Not a single praise? That's just cruel. Are you determined to kill my pride?

[kinship]

Pride is one of the deadly sins, Father.

[He stands up on the confessional stool so that he can see through the grating, leaning against it lazily.]

And you're not allowed to talk so unprofessionally, you're supposed to be taking confessional.

[bloodsugar]

It's not a sin if there's none of it to be found, Cain!

[he presses his face obnoxiously to the lattice work grate.]

And don't you talk to me about professionalism in confessional! You're the one abusing it, not me!

[kinship]

[...that's quite a frightening sight, a priest with his face pressed so clearly to the grate.]

Okay, okay. We'll start again, go back to sleep... professionally.

[bloodsugar]

...It was a professional doze, I'll-- have you know! Don't you dare judge. [huffs... but he's leaning back again. HUFF HUFF HUFF.]

[kinship]

[He just snorts, before slipping down off the stool and walking out of the booth...

...and then right back in again.]

[bloodsugar]

[AND SO IT BEGINS AGAIN.

Abel is mumbling in prayer, ever vigilant and totally the perfect epitome of a pious priest. the murmurs softly abate when the booth becomes occupied, and the serene man lifts his head from the rosary beads in his fingers with a gentle and reassuring voice...]

How long has it been since your last confession, my child?

[kinship]

[Right, right. He absolutely buys this ruse of the perfect priest sitting in devout prayer.]

...I've never confessed.

[Because they're being serious now. Really. No, really.]

[bloodsugar]

[LMAO YES totally. no really. REALLY THIS TIME DON'T MESS IT UP.]

Then I am here to be your vessel to God's graces and guide you to forgiveness. [go ahead, my son. 'son,' brother... thing god what is even]

[kinship]

[Would he mess it up? Have some faith... haha.]

That's reassuring. [Or just plain weird.] Let me see... I've sinned in so many ways, even recently.

[bloodsugar]

Take your time. [he'll listen to all your sins and give you suitable penance, don't you worry.

like 'bring your brother oatmeal raisin cookies fresh baked' or 'go give your brother breakfast in bed' or 'you should totally be nicer to your brother' do you see a trend]

[kinship]

[He pauses to consider, deciding between the thin line of trolling or something genuine (but minor).]

I've been deliberately avoiding a friend for the last few days.

1/2

[bloodsugar]

?

[bloodsugar]

[w... well. that sounds. ...kind of genuine! now he's confused if he's being trolled (gdi) or if this is sincere.]

...Avoiding a friend?

[kinship]

Beast Boy.

[SO EMBARRASSING.]

Do you remember what happened with all the flowers..?

[bloodsugar]

Mm, yes. [yes, yes he does--

...oh. awkward. Cain and Beast Boy...? lskjdf...] Ah.

[kinship]

We... sort of...

[Behaved in the most embarrassing puppy love crush manner possible.]

[bloodsugar]

Sort of...?

[alskjdf Cain now he's worried no fill in the blank DID YOU KISS YOUR FRIEND SCREAM]

[kinship]

[No, his lips are still innocent. HE'S ONLY TEN, OKAY?!]

...you know.

[bloodsugar]

[look most kids experiment with kissing at like, 5... not getting it... it's all innocent. KIND OF CUTE ALKDSJF...

he is sinking into his coat a bit.]

N... no. I'm sorry; you'll have to... elaborate, my son. There is no need for shame, here...!

[kinship]

[Cain isn't most kids. Before coming here, he only hugged and kissed his brother, affectionate physical contact was for family only.]

We...

[NO IT'S TOO EMBARRASSING.]

...kept telling each other how sweet and special the other was.

[bloodsugar]

[...oh

my god h-haha... he feels bad for him, but-- at the same time, this is... s.... so adorable...]

R... really?

[kinship]

[Sob, shut up, it was humiliating.]

And we hugged. [Or more precisely, Cain had latched onto Beast Boy.]

[bloodsugar]

[LSKJFSDF trying not to laugh... shifting. fidgets.]

O-oh. [LMAO what does he even say...] And... you feel like-- this is a sin?

[kinship]

No.

[That hadn't been his fault, that had been all the town's doing, embarrassing as it was.]

The 'sin' is avoiding him because of it.