[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

[kinship]

Maybe you should give me a piggy-back instead.

[Poor lazy brother. He would have given him one if they were still the same size.]

[bloodsugar]

If it'd get us home faster, maybe...

[kinship]

[He holds his arms up, carry him slave.]

I'll even look after you when we get there... put you to bed, feed you ice cream...

[bloodsugar]

[oh god he looks a little paler... but he's picking Cain up dutifully, regardless.]

...You realize you can't escape, now. [haha. if he is SUDDENLY ILL you have no where to run...]

[kinship]

[He stretches his neck out to kiss one pale cheek, feel better ):]

Good job I don't want to escape.

[bloodsugar]

[ahh, all the cute... maybe he should do stupid shit more often this is actually kinda nice

heh...

he starts meaaandering toward home again... carefully...]

Oh. I... guess that's good, then. [what you didn't expect a witty retort did you]

[kinship]

[Poor brother, he must really be feeling sick... why did he agree to eat fifteen ice creams?!]

I haven't seen you this pale since you drank that pint of watered down mayonnaise, when I told you it was milk.

[bloodsugar]

Can you please stop reminding me of incredibly disgusting things?! Th... this is a matter of willpower and you're not helping...

[kinship]

I was just saying... or maybe you look more like that time I put laxatives in your brownies.

[bloodsugar]

[you

rotten little]

...You... will be smote by God for this... [SLDKJF HE IS TRYING SO HARD AND YOU ARE BEING SO EVIL THIS ISN'T FAIR]

[kinship]

[Good times.

He's only just started on his epic quest of warring with Abel's stomach, he wonders how long it went on for when they were growing up.]

I doubt it, he'd be on my side for helping to cure a priest of gluttony.

[bloodsugar]

[he has no idea that his trolldom only gains infamy and cruelty as the years go on... sobbing inside....

he is in a cold sweat by the time they get to the house PUTTING BRO ON HIS FEET...]

G-go open the door, would you?

[kinship]

[It's not his fault Abel is dumb enough to eat anything put in front of him.

He slides down to his feet and takes the keys, unlocking the door and gesturing Abel in.]

Come on...

[bloodsugar]

[no you know this fact and you torture him anyway geez...!! would you feed a dumb dog all the things in the world just because he'd eat it?? what an irresponsible owner...

Abel trudges in and just about zombies to faceplant on the couch. DO NOT SAY A WORD.]

[kinship]

[Abel SHOULD be smarter than a dog... and he's way less loveable, there's no comparison at all.

Cain closes the door and comes to his side, sitting on the floor beside the couch to pet Abel's hair.]

[bloodsugar]

Why do all of your challenges leave me regretting my unconditional love?

[kinship]

Because they all involve you eating things you should be smarter enough not to.

[bloodsugar]

You're supposed to stop me from this kind of behavior--!!

[kinship]

No, you're supposed to stop me. You're the legal guardian now...

[bloodsugar]

But you're still my big brother.

[kinship]

[OH. HIS HEART. ;; THAT WAS A LOW BLOW.]

...I'm sorry, I'll take better care of your tummy from now on.

[bloodsugar]

[all in the name of not being violently ill forever.......... or something. NO SHAME.]

Really?

[kinship]

Really and truly.

[That just means he'll ask Abel if he's ABSOLUTELY SURE he wants the food, before poisoning him with it.]

[bloodsugar]

[oh my god why do you do this to him so cruel...

he sniffs, before setting his cheek back down.]

...Good. I... don't want to do this again...

[kinship]

...Just go to sleep, Abel, you'll feel better when you wake up.

[He's willing to bet you'll even be hungry.]