[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]

Don't patronize me. This is your fault.

[kinship]

How is this my fault?

[Hey... YOU stuck your head through the gap, loser.]

[bloodsugar]

You know exactly how this is your fault!! If you didn't force me to tickle you, then none of this would've happened!

[kinship]

I didn't force you to tickle me at all! I was trying to have a serious confession of faith with a priest.

[bloodsugar]

Right. You with 'faith' and 'serious' in the same sentence simply doesn't work, little brother.

[kinship]

How rude.

Having seen my brother's newfound devotion to Christ, how do you know I haven't been reborn in the fires of faith?

[bloodsugar]

[staring.

really, little brother. really?]

[kinship]

[Okay no, not really.]

It could happen, don't look at me like that.

[bloodsugar]

Right. I think I'd sooner give up sweets of my own volition than you find religion.

[kinship]

Lent does start tomorrow...

[bloodsugar]

Don't even think about it.

[kinship]

It's a tradition of your faith, just like taking confessional or communion.

[He finally steps down from the stool, looking over at his dishevelled brother.]

Do you take a lot of confessions?

[bloodsugar]

Do you really think I adhere to those traditions all too closely, Cain? [he sighs, dusting himself off as he heaves upright again. has to duck not to hit the ceiling in the tiny booth sob...]

...No... admittedly, I didn't do much of the 'traditional' duties of a clergyman since I took the vows. Caterina formed the AX, and it was because of her that I was ordained at all. My job from the beginning wasn't exactly that of the orthodox priest.

[kinship]

[That makes a little more sense, he can't imagine Abel going through a seminary and actually learning to be a priest before being ordained.]

Will you tell me more about the AX and Caterina?

[bloodsugar]

...On the way to get ice cream. [shut up he needs comfort food after this abuse...]

[kinship]

[He considers this for a moment, before just slipping his small hand in Abel's and smiling.]

Deal.

[bloodsugar]

[he squeezes his brother's hand, smiling down at him as they head for the church doors.]

Hmm... what would you like to know? Caterina is a sort of complicated person...

[kinship]

I want to know everything.

[This woman was an integral part of Abel's life now, he wanted... no needed to know it all.]

[bloodsugar]

Everything, hm. I guess we better make it two cones then...

[kinship]

Two cones for you, and a burger for me.

[Don't judge him, America got him into junk food.]

[bloodsugar]

A burger...? You'd pass up ice cream for a burger? Lord forgive him; he doesn't mean to be blasphemous....

[kinship]

You know I don't like ice cream, it's way too sweet.

...But I'd have sorbet if they had that?

[bloodsugar]

Maybe. I guess we'll have to see, right? I suppose it's better than more greasy foods. Aren't you worried about that kind of diet?

[kinship]

[Seriously? Is Mr-Thirteen-Sugars questioning him about his diet?]

I still eat a lot of fish and vegetables, I'm sure it's fine.

[bloodsugar]

[he's also Mr. Crusnik, when it comes down to it... really no worries there.]

Maybe we should put you on a diet after all.