[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

[splitthebaby]

Try not to worry. Devotion to duty isn't exactly required in this church, is it?

[bloodsugar]

Well, I'm not sure about a thing like that. I wouldn't want to slack off, would I?

--Um, but-- is there something I can do for you?

[splitthebaby]

Nothing at all. Just consider me a co-worker.

[He pulls at his white and gold robe a little.]

I seem a little young for the position, don't I?

[bloodsugar]

[--ahh... he blinks, a moment, before realizing exactly what it is he's wearing.]

--Ah! So, you're... [yep connecting the dots, before he's taking a few steps in Merem's direction.] ...well, then! It's doubly nice to meet you. There's not many non-drone clergy in Mayfield, so... the more the merrier!

[splitthebaby]

Isn't it? We should hold a party here to celebrate. Ah, who all would be here? You, me, Ciel....? Anyone else?

[bloodsugar]

His Holiness and Sister Esther, too! They're both from the Vatican and co-workers from my world, and I'm sure they'd be more than happy to meet you--

...ah, what did you say your name was? [or... you know, you didn't. Abel's offering his hand for a shake.]

[splitthebaby]

Sister Esther is my dear mother here. I don't think she was up to the duties of being a proper mother but time will tell.

Merem Solomon is my name. It's a pleasure.

[Handshake is a go!

1/2

[bloodsugar]

Mother?

[bloodsugar]

--Mother?! You mean--

[AAAAH why hasn't he heard about this yet?! E-Esther, you're holding out on him...?!]

[splitthebaby]

It's exactly what it sounds like.

[Oh boy!]

I've yet to discover who the father is...

[bloodsugar]

[oh dear Lord, this is another confusing situation, isn't it? Abel gapes another moment or two before remembering his manners (...or what's left of them), shifting awkwardly.]

A... ah! Well, in that case, it... seems we're neighbors as well as co-workers! I'm two doors down from you on Albright, Mr. Solomon. It's a pleasure!

[splitthebaby]

Just call me Merem. I prefer for things to be a little more casual. But being neighbors is good.

[bloodsugar]

Ah, then-- Abel. Father Abel Nightroad, at your service! Hopefully, it'll be friends as well as neighbors, Merem.

[splitthebaby]

We certainly don't need unnecessary conflict, do we? Friends will have to do, Abel.

[bloodsugar]

[well this is good... at least Esther's new 'son' didn't seem to be a nutjob

lol

l-lol]

Exactly! There's no reason for anything less, right?

[splitthebaby]

[sob

tormenting people doesn't make one insane.....i think]

To start, I won't tell anyone about your lapse of unconsciousness. How about that?

[bloodsugar]

[no it's a perfectly healthy passtime, Merem. really.]

A-ahh. Now I'm in your debt~! I have a reputation to maintain, you know? I don't want it sullied by something careless due to a simple lapse in judgment... You understand, right?

[yes of course oh he's so touched]

[splitthebaby]

We need to think of the reputation of the church as a whole. After all, what will god say if people started talking badly about his chosen ones?

[bloodsugar]

--Right! Right. [more reasons to not leak this? he'll roll with that.] You make a very good point! Very wise, Merem! I'm fully behind your judgment!

[splitthebaby]

I'm glad. I hope we'll get along this well in the future.

[bloodsugar]

There's no reason we wouldn't, right?

[splitthebaby]

No reason at all.

[bloodsugar]

Then, how about I make us a pot of tea? You can tell me a little more about you, Merem! [he sets a hand lightly on his shoulder, gesturing to the back kitchens. COME ALONG THEN.]

[splitthebaby]

Try not to be too surprised, hm?

[OFF TO THE KITCHEN.]

[bloodsugar]

[he'll chuckle at that!]

You do look a little young for the robes... but appearances can be deceiving around here, can't they? [look he knows too many shotapires, here and at home.]