[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]

[look it's too bad, because he just has blind faith forever. don't disappoint him, Charles, geez. GEEZ.]

Me? Do I look like the cleaning type? [his hair looks like he just got out of bed on a good day man.]

[encored]

[their friendship will just be one long series of disappointments won't it]

Not at all, but that's all the more reason to do it, yes? [filthy hobos all up in his house...]

[bloodsugar]

[but he loves you anyway... /sheds a single tear]

...If I didn't know better, I'd think you were suggesting I'm, oh. I don't know. Dirty or something, Charles...

[encored]

[even if you found out that he accidentally kills people with kitchen appliances.....]

You do smell a little questionable.

[bloodsugar]

--Did you just say I smell?! [...he doesn't smell!! does he... DOES HE? oh, great.]

[encored]

Not as poorly as the drones or the people who frequent the tavern, at least. [the worst pseudo-compliment ever...]

[bloodsugar]

Tavern. Oh. I feel worlds better. [monotone...]

[encored]

Good, good. I'm always here if you need a confidence boost, you know? [snickers and grabs one of the fruit tarts. if he can't see you battered by horace, he'll just have to bruise your ego instead!!]

[bloodsugar]

[why does he push himself on you again...?

oh, right. right. because he cares. damnit, caring.]

Really...? Ah. Charles. I'm-- touched...

[encored]

[being Abel is suffering]

I'm glad to hear it, but please keep your snot and tears to yourself. I did just clean, after all.

[bloodsugar]

Ah. Right. Right...

[SNIFFING, he wipes his nose on his sleeve. that's sanitary, right?]

...So, were you really cleaning all day? That's why you didn't want to see me? [don't bullshit him okay...]

[encored]

[giving him a look..... so gross, man.]

I didn't feel like seeing you today because I wasn't in the mood to be social. That's not hard to understand, is it? [technically true] But yes, I decided to spend my day cleaning because things had grown too messy for my tastes. [also technically true...]

[bloodsugar]

[well, both are plausible -- but he knows that there was something that MADE Charles feel unsociable. no... downright irate. on edge at the prospect of company.]

...Did something happen to put you in a bad mood?

[encored]

Why do you ask? [at least he's not outright denying that his temper was abnormally short...

but this could potentially be worse, since it's less of a genuine question and more of a warning that this is not really a topic he wants to discuss.]

[bloodsugar]

[sorry he is totally ignoring your discomfort like the totally well-mannered individual he is...]

You seemed... on edge, earlier. It just felt like something was off.

[encored]

Is that so? I'm more irritable in the morning, you know. [no he's equally irritable at all hours...]

[bloodsugar]

I don't think it can be accounted to something like that.

[nope.avi sorry still not buying it...]

[encored]

[shrugs!!] Then what can it be accounted to, I wonder?

[but whoops tea kettle's starting to go off, time to grab this wonderfully timed opportunity to flee the interrogation table!] Have you brought along the tea, or must I provide us with everything yet again?

[bloodsugar]

[hmph. Abel is lifting after him, digging into his pocket and offering out the leaves in a suitable little plastic bag YEAH MAN I BROUGHT THE PLANT...]

I wonder, too.

It must be something important to have knocked you into such a sour mood. And, to be worth deflecting the issue instead of simply divulging it to get me out of your hair. You must not be confident you can come up with a lie to placate me, either -- so, I'm guessing it's rather serious and personal.

[yet he's on your case anyway oops.]

[encored]

[hrgh your perceptiveness is uncanny, alarming and incredibly irritating all at once. go back to being the dopey priest who didn't even ask why a twelve year old had a full wallet!!]

Curiosity killed the cat. Haven't you heard that saying? [he reaches for the plastic bag thanks abel you're such a good dealer and begins to fix a pot up. he still seems amiable enough despite the topic...]

That aside, there are more interesting things to discuss. I've taken the liberty of inviting Cain to share a meal as well. I assumed you wouldn't mind, but he was a bit out of it when I asked, so I'm uncertain he'd recall.

[bloodsugar]

[n o p e pretending to be dopey doesn't work in his favor in this instance, where being ignorant and you know, taking advantage of said wallet toootally did okay. come, now. you don't think it'd work to YOUR benefit, do you? that's just silly!!

he folds his arms over his chest, standing where he is patiently and completely ignoring the majority of that.]

'Curiosity killed the cat.' It's a lucky thing I'm a 'dog' of your own definition, mm?

[encored]

[your methods are the worst the worst.

but two can play at the ignoring game!! he isn't even surprised by such ridiculous stubbornness this time and carries on finishing the tea unbothered.]

You oughtn't accept insults so easily. Isn't it unbecoming of you?

[bloodsugar]

I've been called worse, once upon a time! [no really quite frequently even... heh. it's no matter when you don't have a pride or ego to be battered by that kind of thing.

he looks suitably cheerful despite Charles' icy reception of his concern.]

Speaking of what one oughtn't do, I'm beginning to think you ought not ignore my efforts to console you from whatever's troubling you, Charles. Or else I might have to resort to...

...hugging.

[encored]

[bringing the pot over and seating himself very civilly] I'm afraid I'll have to put you through the window if you so much as try.

[so civil....]

Most people learn the first few times they're called such names, you know.

[bloodsugar]

[Abel leans over a bit as Charles sits down, smiling that infuriatingly bright and pleasant smile.]

Is that so bad? Really? Talking to me can't be as unpleasant as enduring a hug and breaking your window after you spent all day cleaning your kitchen, right? That'd just make more of a mess, you know.