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 Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2015 12:09 am
Coat
The saddest part was having to leave her coat in the hands of the quartermaster. She'd been through a lot with this coat, and nothing fit her so comfortably as a coat she wore nearly every day. It had small marks (little scuffs of nail polish, tiny dabs of dried blood, bits and pieces of substances she didn't know and didn't want to know) that she could recognize and remember. She was afraid to get a new coat.
What if it didn't fit? What if it sagged and heaved on her frame? So many questions pertinent to her survival. What if it was too loose and got caught somewhere? Where would she stick her daggers- would there even be room for her to flutter the end of it heroicly in the wind?
But in the end, she couldn't stop the quartermaster from taking it, and she couldn't prevent the excitement that came in waiting for a new coat.
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2015 12:15 am
editor
Chel sat between Jack's two enormous legs, a pad of legal paper resting on her thighs. Her tongue was out in concentration as she wrote her first attempt. It was chicken scratch at best, and badly spelled chicken scratch, but she was trying. She could have said it orally to Jack or Chris, but as she'd stated earlier, she wanted to write it herself.
Her head rolled back against his shoulder, looking up and to the right at the bottom of his chin. "How do you spell skills?" she inquired, staring back down at the word scills, because something looked off but she couldn't quite tell.
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2015 12:41 am
store two
The little smile became a full blown grin at her insult. Or maybe at the "we", it was hard to tell with how slowly it formed. "Anything for you, sugarbooger," Jack promised.
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2015 1:07 am
editor
There was something cathartic about being able to shoot s**t. Ever since Owain had unlocked that little bonus feature, Jack had taken a new pleasure in being able to use a gun in what little manner he could--he'd never made it a secret to his partner that he wished the giant had been a gun of some sort, even though he was competent enough as a swordsman. So while Chel began knuckling down on the paper, he played Metroid with a quiet, childish glee. This was the sort of thing he had missed out on growing up.
Putting the gameboy down, he fixed his glasses (worn mostly in case reading too much strained him for just contacts), felt old, sighed inwardly, and read over the word. "K here instead," he told her, reaching around and tapping at the C. And then, simply because he could, he turned his head and aimed a sloppy little kiss at her nose; today was a day where he felt more comfortable being affectionate. "How's it coming along?"
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2015 8:34 am
editor
The affection was not only desired, but almost necessary for Chel to get through this. It was aggravating, even with support, especially when Jack was playing her favorite game series in the background. She had to trace Jack's finger to the letter he was talking about to make sure she was even erasing the right C and putting a K in it's place.
It had been a little less than an hour. "I have like a paragraph. Maybe." She brushed off the paper and handed it up to him, but only to look. "There's no point in you fixin' it as we go. Y'can just do it all at the end." She put a hand to her chin as she reread it, sighing outwardly. "And don't laugh. I know it's shitty." Quote: I want to b in the deth division because I think I cau be mor useful there. I am a really rab sun, but I want to get information for deus now. Beng a death would be awsome becuse I could do really cool things. I have been here for 2 yers now and I hav a lot of skills
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2015 10:40 am
editor
Only because he loved Chel was he able to read it without putting on the five year old voice that would have for sure made him crack up. "Okay. What skills do you want to mention?" Jack asked, brainstorming for her. "Definitely mention your service and put an emphasis on your ability to adapt to combat. Tell them you've done the Death course and finished it quickly. Hmm...I'd also put down that you have helpful contacts on the other side; just don't mention that you care whether they're married or not."
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2015 10:44 am
Editor
Chel reached up to pat the side of his head gently.
"I can't write that fast," she gently reminded him, taking the paper back. Her wrinkled brow gave away how hard it was for her to even get the first part of what he'd said down.
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2015 10:54 am
Editor
"Good thing I'm so smart I can remember it for you," he replied with a grin. "Let's start with skills." He listed what he considered to be the better ones, one by one, and tried to think of ways to phrase them so that they weren't so verbose. Underlying the process was a sense of pride: even if this ended up being the worst idea, at least she was trying.
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2015 11:06 am
Three hours in
It had taken a while to detail some of them, especially when partway through she'd needed a break for her head not to explode, but the list of skills was at least done. There was still a lot more to be done but it felt good to have such a large chunk out of the way.
She tilted her head back against Jack's shoulder, letting out a long side at having only filled two pages. "Remember that time I filled a whole notebook with Wonderland s**t?" she reminisced, "And you didn't even like me then." She chuckled against his ear, a pleasant sound but a tired one.
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2015 11:15 am
Three hours in
By then, Jack had also grown tired of switching between reading her horrid handwriting and playing the game. Vaguely nauseated even. He leaned his head back and to the side, against both her head and the couch. "Mm...I think I still have it somewhere," he said, trying to remember and then chuckling. "******** neon colored eyesore. I remember it came with coupons for coffee or something too."
A pause, then, "It's weird. I was still calling you Craft back then."
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2015 11:24 am
Three hours in
"Gel pens are cool," she retorted. Chel would never change her stance on that. "And you liked coffee. That was all I knew." Maybe she should have been surprised or touched that Jack kept it, but he was such a paperwork hoarder that it didn't phase her a bit.
The transfer documentation was taking longer than expected. She knew it was going to take an afternoon, but what she didn't tell Jack was that after this she would have to rewrite it in pen, and then probably type it up somewhere. She only wanted him to proofread the first part; having him pull an all nighter with her seemed unfair.
"F'you need to sleep or take a break s'cool," she said, sitting up enough to give him the space to move. "I know it's borin' as hell." She tapped the pencil against her chin. "I could always run it by your place once it's done? That way you don't have to sit here watching me mispell the same word over and over."
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2015 11:50 am
Three hours later
"Boring, yeah, but necessary." He snaked an arm around her and drew her back in. "Not my first time working for hours on a paper, Chel. I can handle it. Besides, boyfriend-girlfriend solidarity." She'd said we. "Just have to rest our eyes every once in a while is all. Maybe I'll take up cooking this time," he joked.
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2015 11:56 am
Three hours in
Damn Prince Charmin' was muttered under her breath with a tiny smile as she curled on his frame. She wondered if Jack was always this generous or if she had seeded some kind of special privilege from him. It was much different than the man who'd said it was a no.
"F'you cook then I'll really be in the death division," she joked, emphasizing death.
After a second or two she lazily said, "Y'know we really should just get married man." It was impossible to read her tone because she hadn't added one. It could teeter into lecherous joke or serious consideration and Chel's laugh muddied the line between the two.
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2015 12:05 pm
Three hours later
Owain's titter was what pushed him to joke. "We should let the priest know ahead of time that it'll take a few hours just to read the contract," he drawled, which showed just about the extent of knowledge he had on weddings. He'd been to far more funerals.
"I'm serious about cooking, though. I won't burn it this time, and snacks and water alone won't cut it at this rate."
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2015 12:32 pm
Food
Chel's mouth curled into a smile, not at his joke but at the fact that he COULD joke about it. He had grown too, like he'd said. More open, less trepidation. Even if it was only in small increments.
"I'll eat it even f'it's burnt," she said, fussing with his hair before sitting up and off the couch. She left the legal pad on the couch and offered him a hand up. Maybe she was procrastinating or maybe she was finally giving herself a break. It was always both with Chel.
"I'll oversee yer a** in the kitchen, captain boss. We can talk about my tuxedo and yer pretty white dress while we're at it."
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