mayfield_rpg

Entry tags:

[008]

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...]

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...I'll take that as a compliment, considering my current company.

[but, you know, this is a good segue...]

You know, you haven't told me much about what you do at home, Charles.

[NO THAT'S A VERY BAD SEGUE home is just about the last thing he wants to talk about when he's in a foul mood! of course, none of this DNW shows outside of a slight tensing in his shoulders.]

I don't do much, really. Certainly nothing that could compare to the extensive world travels of a wandering priest of the Vatican.

Then it should be a rather short story to tell, right? And since you've gotten such a flair for it, no trouble at all!

[you just kinda walked right into that one, bro.]

[why. he clicks his tongue in annoyance and just kind of... gives a pointed stare. but he can word things carefully when he feels like it!!]

I've the flair to tell it, naturally, but it's still rather dull. I enjoy reading in my free time, and I work for a pharmaceutical company. [...well it's true by the slightest of technicalities!]

...Pharmaceutical company. [well, he didn't see that one coming -- the arched brow saying as much.] In... what capacity?

[see it's surprising but so bland, the perfect cover]

I lend aid to an acquaintance that works on staff when it's needed. [the laziest shrug...] More production than shipping or counter work. It's not like a person that appears my age would be able to hold a full-time job if it requires being in the eye of the public.

[it really would be if it wasn't also SO WEIRD AND RANDOM CHARLES WHY.]

Really? So... you're just working there as a favor to a friend? [HEART OF GOLD?]

[DON'T RAIN ON HIS PARADE his cleverly disguised parade...]

I am, yes. It's not as unbelievable as you're making it sound, you know? That's a little offensive.

Edited (oh no editing stuff already) 2012-03-07 04:42 (UTC)

[so, so very clever in it's disguise. no one suspects the... pharmacist.]

Well, I thought the shoe fit. [he's such a flatterer...]

[he'd have the murder mystery sleuths stumped from the start. what a tongue twister...

also, now he really is looking offended. HE CAN DO GOOD WITHOUT PUTTING A PRICE TAG ON IT OKAY even if that's not actually the case here details]

It's not as though I'll turn to ash and blow away in the wind if I choose to lend someone aid.

[ABEL BELIEVES IN YOU however he is obligated to troll you forever.]

...Are you so sure? I mean-- we're probably better off not tempting luck, right? I would hate for you to blow away into ash, Charles!

[is he cursed to spend his life surrounded by trolls, is that it]

What do you think I am? I'm not going to blow away into ash for any reason, and adverse as I am to wasting my time, I can afford to spare a few minutes now and then. [or a few hours... or a few decades.....]

...But you just said...!

[because CLEARLY you were serious and not being sarcastic at all. clearly. I mean, that was so so obvious just now.]

[it's like everyone he knows is in a race to see who can get him to angrily flip a table at them first]

Don't be an idiot. I know it's difficult but please, try for me.

[what you didn't know about that competition? we're even keeping tabs...!!!]

E-eh? What? Charles, I don't get it...! You said you would turn to ash if you--

[look. look, he's clearly so distraught! what is he missing?!]

[abel will be the winner.....

look see he's already getting a spoon flicked at him because Charles has the most impeccable table manners in the world.]

No, I wouldn't turn to ash. Not even a fire could do that, so it'd be stupid to think donating my spare time would. [huffs indignantly!]

Eh? Not even fire could turn you to ash?

[doesn't seem fazed even after the spoon hits him

it's like he didn't feel it or something...

now he's poking your arm, leaning in curiously.] Are you made out of some strange material? That's very curious, Charles. I wonder what would happen if you caught on fire, then?

[he really is going to have to throw a table at this rate...

but he will be nice and let Abel poke at his arm. it's a completely human arm what were you expecting gosh]

I'm made of flesh and blood like most other living creatures. [tilting his head to one side... now he looks less irritated and more semi-interested in a lazy sort of way.] I'd regenerate, of course.

[well clearly that just means he has to poke HARDER and more obnoxiously

and like

at your cheek instead...]

Regenerate? Before you turned to ash?

[why do these things happen he's leaning awaaay and to the side now

don't make him throw his fork next...]

Naturally. Having the ability to regenerate would be rather useless if it couldn't even cover that much. [charles what are your standards even]

It really works that fast?

[does he sound like he is contemplating setting you on fire to see? ...maybe he does. not that he'd do that...

right

he really wouldn't right

...do you know for sure]

[giving him

a mildly suspicious look]

It works incredibly fast. [he's not going to do anything so dramatic as set himself on fire, but he will pick up the pastry knife set below the tray and use it to... cut across his palm... Charles why

it does heal incredibly fast, though! much faster than the time Abel had to help him with his ghost from Christmas past wounds. the blood hardly has a chance to escape before the wound bubbles up again, healing over seamlessly.] See? It's like that with nearly everything.

Ah-- Charles, wait!

[too slow--!! SCREAM NOT AS PLANNED! he winces a bit as the knife cuts skin... but, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't rather fascinated by his regeneration.]

Th-- that's... [yes, rather fast, isn't it? but the impressed look fades to something else, and he tilts his head a bit.]

...You must have been in really dire straits... for it to have slowed down so much back near Christmas.

[TOO SLOW TO CATCH HIM GRAMPS but he does seem pleased by that impressed look... at least he didn't do something more over the top like that time he slit his throat in front of England to prove that he couldn't die whoops. such a flair for dramatics]

Well, my strength and regenerating capabilities are directly tied to how often I drink blood. [twirling the knife idly now, so safe] I hadn't eaten in a while before that rubbish started happening, and there weren't any convenient food sources nearby until you showed up.

[yep you were just called a convenient food source aren't you proud....]

[he'll take 'convenient food source' over 'dog' okay...]

Generous and handsome food sources, you mean? [and humble. add humble to that list.]

Ah, so... you're keeping better care, I hope? [...where do you get your blood Charles

suddenly suspicious considering the cleanliness of the kitchen]

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aslkdjg forgive my fail!late... /crawls on...

it's okay i will wait 4 u 5ever

/sniffs dramatically, touched by your generosity...

strikes a heroic pose and rides valiantly off into the sunset!!!

/s-swoons after.... in a most damsel-like fashion.....

we could star in our own fairytale, it will be a chart topper

would charles tell said fairy tale to abel one day /bats eyelashes

of course gather round babby priests he will tell horrible tales

/crawls up to and sits by feet, BIG EXPECTANT DOE EYES...

tells every grimms tale until nightmares are imminent.....

inb4 crawling into your bed at 3am sobbing like a girl

fairy tales are only good when they cause 3am trauma

but what will you do about the 3am nightmare cuddle duty...

cuddle duty will be valiantly covered and it will even include a blanket fort

oh my god this is the best and totally worth the 3am nightmares...

bust out the disco ball and strobelights and it will be a true party

until someone calls the cops....!!!

then we will know it has been a truly successful party!!

but orange jumpsuits totally wash me out man i'm too pretty for jail.......