mayfield_rpg | scene xxv

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scene xxv

ACTION;
A) [In the morning, Charles can be found living up to his actual age, being an old man and setting up a chessboard in the park! ~~Someone save him before he starts feeding pigeons and wearing sweater vests~~. He doesn't seem to have a partner to play with. Not until you walk by, that is, at which point he smiles and gestures to the other side of the table.]

Why don't you take a seat? Let's have a match. [SUSPICIOUS... No, he's just that bored and in a rare social mood.]

B) [Or maybe you catch him a little later on, after he's packed away his chess set and is out walking his, uh... Horace. The giant beast actually seems pretty tame, all things considered, only stopping to sniff moving things (like you, whoops!) and occasionally making gross growling noises and drooling on the ground. So majestic.

For the unfortunate citizens, these two losers can also be found in much less docile situations - Charles trying to shoo his droolbeast away from a drone it's attempting to gnaw on, or perhaps Horace lolloping down the road with a few geese in its mouth.]

PHONE;
[And carrying on with the trend of being utterly unruffled by everything that happened over the weekend, Charles will pick up his phone in the early evening with a question for the masses.]

I'd like to know your opinion on concerts. Proper orchestral performances, I mean. Who here enjoys them? If something with that sort of music happened to be available in the city, would you attend? [His little fancy cultured self is starting to feel more deprived than usual okay... Having at least one other star performer now, all that's left is to gauge the interest of a potential audience.]

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[no, there is no trace of pity in his entire person... in fact, if Abel doesn't roll out of the way or otherwise attempt to stop him, Charles will be planting a foot square on his shoulder and leaaaning down.]

I'll deliver to you all of the pains of fatality if you don't pay for a tailor to have this fixed. [HOLDING HIS ARM OUT. his poor sleeve is ripped, there is no time for mourning over broken bones or backs or old man knees in the face of this sort of tragedy!]

[oh god why Charles-- he will make an excellent show of clutching Charles' ankle, giving another squawk of pain at being manhandled in such an abysmally heartless fashion!! how could you?! but they're friends babby bat what are you doing--?!]

--All the pains of-- [pardon, he has to pause to wheeze as if this very threat has stolen the breath from his lungs.]

Wh-- why on earth would you go and say something like that?! Charles, don't you know that's really scary?!? What if you induced some... TERROR COMA talking like that?! You'd have to go the rest of your days with that grievous sin on your conscience, weighing you down-- not to mention the tragedy my passing would leave on your poor soul!! Think of yourself, if not everyone else, p-- please!!

[ew gross now he's going to have to wash his ankle off later. so inconsiderate!!

anyway LOOMING AND SHIFTING HIS IMPRESSIVE WEIGHT ONTO THAT ONE FOOT. except it's not a very impressive weight at all but whatever, he can try... tailored clothing care is serious business okay wandering Vatican priests just wouldn't understand! (even if they totally should with all the detailing on those robes abel pls)]

My, what a wonderful idea! Please save me the headache of having to deal with you myself and drop into a coma. In fact, go into one immediately. The sooner the better.

[...oh that's a very

interesting face you've got on there did anyone tell you that]

[--no, no!! focus!! he's trying to displace his foot (honestly this doesn't really hurt but he's hamming it up as much as possible for melodrama's sake; what else would you expect) -- giving a pitiable cough.]

Wh-- what?! Why are you being so mean to me?! Whatever have I done to you but be your unfailingly loyal and beloved best friend, Charles--?! Th... think I'm going to cry, I--

[his weight is pretty impressive when he puts it to good use!! like when he flings himself out of windows and onto the ribcages of unsuspecting people passing by his house......

but he's giving Abel a 'gum on the bottom of my shoe' look, nose wrinkling at the mention of potential water works.]

What, so you can ruin my shoes with the salt in it? Was my shirt not enough collateral damage for you today? [letting his foot be displaced... but only so he can further invade abel's personal bubble by jabbing a finger into his chest.] It's your own fault you got the both of us into this mess, so I expect you to take responsibility for it.

[...Charles why. why would you do that. don't you know people use their ribcages? why. this is why we can't have nice things.

--oh my a finger in his chest, too? this is just getting OUTRAGEOUS now (because a finger is worse than his shoe in his shoulder right? are we graduating to higher or sinking to lower levels now, does one dare to ask...)]

--I'm a poor, IMPOVERISHED PRIEST vowed to a simpleton's life of penniless!! What do you want from me?! That shirt probably costs more than my full month's wages, Charles--!! Y-- you're just picking on me because we haven't been spending time together, aren't you--?! L... look, I'm s- sorry that I hurt your feelings, but this is no way for you to behave at all!! I get the message, and we'll be inseparable from now on to avoid this kind of thing from repeating, so just let off, would you?!

[ribcages are still functional even when broken!!

and yes now they've graduated (or sunk??) to him grabbing Abel by the collar instead. sometimes he just can't contain his innate urges to throttle and choke everything that irritates him, it is a terrible affliction...]

I don't want an excessive amount of your presence in my life, I just want you to pay for the damages done to my shirt! Why is that so difficult for you to comprehend?

R-- eally!! You don't have to pretend at being the tough guy, I-- I get it, okay?! I promise, I won't so much as let you out of my sight--! [he's holding his hands placatingly, eyes shimmering with heartfelt tears...]

I won't deny you the affection you feel you've been denied, and... and I sincerely and whole-heartedly apologize from the depths of my heart to have s-so... so callously hurt you--! P... please forgive me, and give me a chance to repent, Charles!!

Pay for my shirt-!! [SHAKING HIM NOW. he is very single-minded in his pursuits sometimes... all of those teary apologies and heart-felt pleas for forgiveness will have to wait for a time when Charles isn't dealing with ripped cuffs.....]

[alksjdlkjf this is a very jumbled reply, with the shaking--]

--haVEN'T gotTEN anY muh-- [...] ney--

[wow, it's almost like you can hear that singular braincell rattling around in there! are you listening?!]

[why yes, yes he is! abel's head is practically its own maraca]

Then make some money and pay me back! [drops his handful of collar with a huff and dusts his hands off like he'd just touched something underneath a public bus seat by accident...]

Now I need to go all the way back to my house to change. I only just got out here, you know. That stupid mouse takes a day and a half to walk anywhere and now I have to go right back the way I came.

[he'll simply dazedly slump here as if he's been accosted by a herd of stampeding elephants rather than manhandled by a singular Charles... his eyes are certainly dizzy at the least-- s... so rough, so cruel, so--]

...J... just-- how long are you going to pretend this is about... your shirt, Charles...? I-- It's quite alright to miss a friend... without all the bells and whistles to hide it...

[this is pretty much the definition of masochism, or perhaps idiocy? maybe both. but really, he's gone a while without having the opportunity to troll him......

THIS WAS UNAVOIDABLE...]

[AS UNAVOIDABLE AS ABEL'S UNDOUBTEDLY SWIFT DEMISE. or at least that's the way things are going at this rate. shirt > well-being of others!! he's so involved in it that he hasn't even noticed Horace has ambled off down the street yet whoops]

I'm not pretending this is about my shirt when that's exactly what this is about. If you would learn to keep your two gigantic, oafish feet planted firmly on the ground, perhaps you'd cause less damage to the property of others. I don't need any bells or whistles to declare how far away from "missing you" I am right now.

[Horace why... Charles you have the worst priorities ever HAS ANYONE TOLD YOU THAT.

he'll cough pathetically, before rolling onto hands and knees to make an attempt at getting to his feet, as long as MISTER ANGRY here doesn't interfere...]

C... come, now...! Do you really expect me to believe all this anger is over a silly-- shirt?! HAH!

[who does that?

...okay you do that but who else does that??]

[it might have been hinted at a few times.... but like he'd ever take the opinions of others into consideration on those matters!

he's really tempted to kick the loser over as soon as he tries to get to his feet, but he'll be nice and use Abel's back as a temporary footrest instead since he was kind enough to present the opportunity!! not very long, though; just long enough to punctuate the fact that yes he is this angry over a silly shirt.]

Do you have any idea how many shirts I've had to repair over the course of my stay? Do you know how tedious the wait is and how expensive getting something mended by a proper tailor is? I like this shirt and now I'll have to wait until god knows how long to wear it again because you can't contain your falls properly. [CHARLES WHY...]

[as ever, Charles demonstrates the healthiest mentalities...

Abel gives an indignant noise upon being used as a footstool, batting his hand at him from his unfortunate position.]

--Do you mind?! I can't even focus on whatever drivel you're going on about when you've been grievously MISTREATING me ever since we stumbled onto each other!! Don't you care about my feelings at all?! [no Abel why would you even ask...]

[and this is him on a good day...]

I don't, and I care about them less than usual today since you've taken it upon yourself to ruin my good mood just by existing. [WOE IS HIM. instead of taking his foot off normally he'll just kind of walk over Abel to get to the other side of the sidewalk even though there is a distinct lack of Horace there now.]

[screams... SCREAMS INSIDE...

he flops back down onto his face as he's stepped down upon and used as a stepping stone (first footstool, now this?! the HORROR), wheezing a protest out in suitably explosive fashion.]

--GOOD mood?! Ch-- arles--

[you realize you're going to pay for all this with more incessant nagging down the line...]

[you'd think he'd have learned by now that disengaging is the easiest way to escape from being annoyed to death but nope...

instead he's just gonna straighten his shirt out with utmost dignity, plucking a string from his torn sleeve with a wrinkled nose.]

Well it's not good any longer.

[huffing... oh, now he's just getting irritated and indignant...]

--No?! I wonder why THAT is, when you clearly garner sadistic enjoyment from assaulting poor defenseless priests--!!

[sighs and waves him off like the clearly insignificant thing he is!]

If I'm to derive sadistic enjoyment from assaulting anyone, they would still have to be a step above you. Even I can't delight in the misery of something so pathetic. [sigh!] Now if you'll excuse me, I should find that mouse before it makes a messy snack of the neighbors. [at least try to sound like you're even remotely concerned......]

[ugh... UGH CHARLES UGH he's climbing with a stumble to his feet, exhaling a long-suffering groan...

but soon as he's up, he's trotting right after him.]

--Well~! If you find me so pathetic, then surely you won't want to accept money from a deplorable creature like me, right? I mean, you definitely would be above that much... wouldn't you~?

[it's too bad horace isn't as well trained...

waving a hand dismissively! there is no weaseling out of this one okay he will get his repair money or he will die trying.] As deplorable as you are, your money is still good. How does this sound? You could put it into a plastic bag and seal it before delivering it to me. That should keep my hands clean.

[sigh. his smile is becoming a little strained, and he side-eyes his little friend here as they hunt for Horace.......

don't mind him if he just mutters under his breath here]

Yes, put my non-existent money in a bag for you, Charles, excellent...

yes look on the... bright side........

/eyes glimmer with optimistic tears of hope...

quietly hands a tissue and floats away on a breeze...

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