[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]

[The tears show no signs of stopping, though when he feels Abel's fingers lightly touch his skin he looks up at his brother. He seems blurred at the moment, but it doesn't matter because he knows the look of affection in Abel's eyes without having to see it.

He swallows painfully a few times, and though it doesn't stop the tears it does make his words, raspy and raw, at least understandable.]

...Abel.

[bloodsugar]

...Cain... it's okay.

[the smile is wan and there is little heart behind it, but the love in his eyes is a stark contrast of sincerity. he uses his sleeve to keep dabbing at those tears that don't seem ready to stop...]

[kinship]

[Don't mind him if he clings to the front of Abel's cassock again, pressing his ear with bruising ferocity to his brother's heartbeat. That perfect rhythm that finally started to help the tears abate.]

[bloodsugar]

[he doesn't mind at all... simply shifting his grip to accommodate him.

it's... alright.]

[kinship]

[Slowly... slowly... everything goes quiet again.

He feels boneless and breathless, completely drained of everything and wrung out like a sponge. It's a relief and frightening at the same time, he feels raw and exposed, as though he's cut himself open and left his insides on display.

But the tears have stopped now, leaving him silent and slumped against his twin.]

[bloodsugar]

[there is no harm in showing him your everything, Cain. of all the people in the world, this one will always be your biggest fan... utterly devoted. trustworthy.

he watches him, silent, letting him remain in his arms; he doesn't have the heart to move him or break the silence. he's hurt enough. now, he can just... be.]

[kinship]

[This is a part of himself he had never even shown his other brother, a part Abel must know he would have carried right to his death on the colony.

But for the here and now, he's safe in his brother's arms and gradually getting enough cognizant thought back to tilt speak again.]

...I love you.

[bloodsugar]

[Abel gives Cain a tiny nod of his head.]

...I love you too.

[kinship]

Talk to me.

[He doesn't care what about, he just wants to hear his brother's voice filling the silence.]

[bloodsugar]

Talk... to you.

[he pauses for a moment... before the low tenor of his voice comes, quiet.]

Why don't you ask me... 'what kind of future do you want, Abel?'

[kinship]

[Ah.

He still remembers? Even after centuries, he still remembers Cain asking him that?]

What... kind of future do you want, Abel?

[bloodsugar]

[how could he ever forget?

he shifts a little bit so that he is looking right down into his brother's still blurry and red-rimmed eyes.]

...The future I want is beautiful, Cain. It's really beautiful.

In it... you and I might have to endure some hardships here... ones we might not think that we can get through. But in the end, it's worth it when the day comes that the tables turn, and the humans playing God in this town are at our mercy. We're able to find our way home, and... we work together to make sure we go back with memories. Together.

We can head to the same world of our choosing. Make a 'home' anywhere we want. Maybe in a new universe with someone like Nanako, or... maybe a world where the trees grow ice cream. There's something like that somewhere, right? Mayfield opens up brand new doors.

But wherever we would go, no matter where it was... we go together. We choose our fate from then on. There are no orders to follow or masters to belong to. It's just us... brothers. Humans. A family. We can do and be and see... anything we want. Anything at all, side-by-side like we should always be.

[kinship]

[Oh, Abel.

His heart tugs painfully in his chest, but it's wonderful, so... so wonderful. It's what he wants too, and there's no reason it can't be possible. If the day comes-- no, when the day comes that they have the people running Mayfield at their mercy, they can do anything they want.

Congratulations, that's a new seed of determination planted. Tiny for now, but it will grow to be all consuming.]

...No... no ice cream trees.

[bloodsugar]

[he gives a quiet chuckle.]

How did I know that's the part you'd comment on? ...Predictable.

[kinship]

Because the rest... is already perfect.

[That's the future he wants too. Together, free, safe.]

[bloodsugar]

We'll get there, one day.

[kinship]

[A shaky exhalation, but a more steady look in his eyes as he nods.]

I know.

[bloodsugar]

Just hold on. Hold out, and lean on me.

I am a big fathead, right? I can hold your weight, Cain. Don't forget that on the way.

[kinship]

I want you to lean on me too.

[Not about the future, he knows he won't get an answer there, but he doesn't want to be completely useless. He wants to be Abel's rock too.]

[bloodsugar]

...Well, if you keep poisoning me, I won't really have a choice...

[kinship]

[Haha... that earns a snotty chuckle, silly brother.]

You poisoned yourself.

[bloodsugar]

[he chuckles again, leaning down to kiss his forehead and digging into his pocket for his handkerchief, holding it out.]

[kinship]

[Wow, so useful big-little brother. He takes it and blows his nose... before handing it back.]

[bloodsugar]

...

[thanks, bro. he makes a face as he puts it away alskjdf]

[kinship]

[He rubs itchy and red eyes with the back of his hand, before giving Abel a wan smile.]

Is Miss Esther okay?