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 Posted: Wed Sep 09, 2009 3:04 pm
He wasn't exactly avoiding his house - he just had other places to be.
With renewed vigor he tackled his work on the building he and Ciro had hijacked. In between interning and work, he'd wander into Downers and clean, build, upgrade.
In a short amount of time, the below-ground floors had been remade. Just as lavishly decorated and outfitted as any Middling home, he placed careful emphasis on permanence. It was no longer a temporary stay, but a home - though he didn't know who it was for or why. Something told him to prepare. Prepare for a lot of people - and the people he kept in mind were the ones he knew. His coworkers, his family. Eventually, he pushed his changes upwards, undertaking the more arduous task of outfitting the above-ground aspects of the building. The many floors would take him a long, long time to remodel - but he didn't mind.
After the day's work was done and he ambled home to complete the last pieces of homework, he sometimes made detours.
Today's detour was for hot cocoa and macaroni and cheese.
Valeriu's habits of knocking had changed when it came to this particular door; rather than a polite rap of the knuckles, he reared his foot back and stomped the door.
Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!
It satisfied something deep within him. Especially when he imagined it was Quinn's face on the door.
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Posted: Wed Sep 09, 2009 3:50 pm
Quinn had, conveniently, just finished making some macaroni and cheese. He was pulling the hot chocolate box down from the pantry when the bang came on the door. He was either being bulldozed, or Vale was there.
"Coming!" He chirped happily, flowing into the hallway to the front door. He opened it up, and wiggled his fingers at Vale in a hello. "Come on in. Haven't seen you in a few days. Are you alright?"
He was in an incredibly merry mood, and he began scooping some mac and cheese into bowls for the two of them. 'Hum da dummm," he hummed, happily. Something just felt right with the world, for once. No big issues, no one was going insane, and he was reasonably happy. No complaints.
He was even feeling that his invention was close to getting put on the main menu. It was going to be awesome.
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Posted: Wed Sep 09, 2009 4:09 pm
Quinn was chipper. Very chipper. It was a little bit disturbing.
"Da, just been busy," he answered, staidly, brushing lazily past Quinn and into the house. "I felt like hot cocoa today, and you are the man to go to for hot cocoa."
There was something a little more confident in his stride; a kind of understated way of holding oneself. Determination, resolution - as if he would walk where he would, and would not be stopped. Quietly metering out self-possession, maturity, strength. He walked like a man, now.
Valeriu stole what he'd come to think of as his visiting-chair. The plush, comfortable seat that he filled with his bulk, tugging off workgloves with his teeth and unwinding his belt from his hips. Following that up with heavy boots and googles, he stretched his toes out in contentment.
Freedom.
"Making macaroni?" he asked on the sly, though he'd known full well what Quinn was making not two blocks from here. "It's been a long day. I'm pretty hungry." He added just the right tone of hopefulness to it. "Murphy stole my lunch. V'e get drunk, he has a terrible hangover, and he still bounces back fast enough to be hungry enough to steal my lunch."
b*****d.
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Posted: Thu Sep 10, 2009 6:47 pm
Quinn nodded. "Yes, I am. I make the best! You should come by my cafe more often." He laughed and continued making the chocolate. He brought a bowl of macaroni and set it in front of Vale, with a fork.
"There you go! I'll have the cocoa ready momentarily." He began stirring powder into the mugs. Then he froze.
Something was wrong with the universe.
"You got drunk? Waitwaitwait." He slammed the mug down with an audible bang. His face was much more serious. He strode purposefully over to Vale and put both hands on the other man's shoulders.
"What happened."
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Posted: Thu Sep 10, 2009 7:14 pm
"Your cafe is expensive," he countered leisurely, dragging the bowl closer to himself and hungrily digging a fork in. After a few bites, he continued, "Besides, I can get the same here, for free. V'ith delicious macaroni."
Always looking for the bargain deal.
The bang surprised him long enough to tear his attention away from the food before him, fork in mouth as Quinn's hands settled on his shoulders. He made as if to speak, thought better of it, and swallowed first - setting the fork down.
"Da. V'ith the twins. At the hospital. I don't think the nurses v'ere very happy, but you know how Murphy uses his charm." He thought about how to explain why; a lot of complex answers came to mind as he met Quinn's eyes, but the only one that left his mouth was, "I ended it, v'ith Tepin."
He looked back down at his macaroni, contemplatively, and dug himself another bite. Maybe if he ate enough, it'd fill the gaping hole left in his chest.
"I realized I could not love her the v'ay she deserves. So I let her go."
He shrugged with a strange sort of finality, of acceptance. Too late for regrets, though he knew he'd be carrying them anyway. Another bite. A more thoughtful look.
"And then v'e got drunk. I can see the appeal, but I do not think I v'ill be doing it often."
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Posted: Thu Sep 10, 2009 7:48 pm
Quinn turned around quickly under the guise of being at a loss for words in order to grin like a crazy person.
"You're an idiot," he practically sung. "That was a stupid mistake. I hope you're not coming in here to ask for me back, because that isn't happening." He merrily finished the hot chocolate, and skipped back to to the table to hand Vale his cup.
The things he had mentally wanted to say were all coming true! He could now mentally tell-Vale-so all he wanted.
"It's good stuff," He commented, on the cocoa. "And good, getting drunk too often can get you into a lot of trouble." He couldn't seem to sit down. He set his cup on the ground and spun around behind Vale to massage his shoulders, if only to give him something to do.
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Posted: Thu Sep 10, 2009 9:38 pm
"I am," he acknowledged, a little more quietly. "And it v'as. But-" He shrugged, and finished off his plate. "I chose the Game. I chose fate. And fate - fate did not have a life v'ith her in store for me." He'd come to terms with that after the third bottle of rum. Or was it vodka? He didn't know the difference. They both burned the same way.
He gave Quinn a dubious look, taking his cup dryly.
"I didn't," he rebutted reservedly, sipping his cocoa. "I came here for the macaroni and cheese, and I stayed for the cocoa. V'hich is very good, yes."
He folded one ankle over the other, taking his sweet time enjoying his drink. It was nice to relax, for just a little while.
"It v'asn't very tasty, either," he added, shaking his head. "For all the raving about alcohol, I can't see v'hy. The good-looking ones the Carnegies dismissed as girl-drinks."
This disappointed Valeriu. He liked flavored drinks, which the twins all but dismissed; unless it was Bailey's. Or malt-flavored rum.
"You know," he muttered around the rim of his cup, muscles grudgingly giving way to Quinn's massage with twinges of pain and long-lasting aches and general disagreement, "for all that you say that it isn't happening," he paused wryly, tilting his head to give Quinn a look. He finished his drink, set the cup carefully on the table, and then grabbed a lazy hold on Quinn's arms, tugging the other back around the chair, "you seem very pleased that I've tossed av'ay happiness in favor of being honest v'ith myself. V'hy is this?"
Vale knew. Had long come to terms with the fact that Quinn was a sadist.
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Posted: Fri Sep 11, 2009 8:28 pm
"Fate, fate, fate. Blah blah blah." He sing-songed. "Well, then, good. I do make the best." He snorted. "'V'hich is very good, yes'? You sound so silly. 'I wash your car, yes? Dis is da vay to da restroom, yes?'" He laughed.
"It has its merits," he said, reflecting back on Writ, "But I understand what you mean. Margaritas are the best." After being tugged back around to the front of the chair, Quinn plopped himself down into sitting on the edge of Vale's lap.
"I'm not pleased. And happiness is overrated, compared to honesty?" He attempted, unconvincingly. "It really isn't happening, though. I speak the truth. I'm not pleased, I'm just not thoroughly upset. You are a free man, now! Fly like the bird that you are, mister cat!"
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Posted: Fri Sep 11, 2009 8:47 pm
Valeriu was unamused.
"I do not sound silly. I v'ould like to see you master the English language v'hen not raised a native speaker. V'e see v'hat you do then, Frenchman," he sniffed, haughtily. "Besides, v'omen love the v'ay I speak. Foreign accents, you know."
He was bluffing. But Quinn didn't need to know that.
His lips quirked in a half-smile at Quinn's vague attempts.
"A catbird?" he asked, wryly. "Just v'hat I need. V'ings. Tezcatlipoca v'as known for turning into a bird, sometimes," he added with more consideration. "I had to catch it a few times. Scary bird. Hm."
He could always ask. But thinking back on the physics of it all, he'd need a big set of wings to heft his size into the sky.
"Mother alv'ays said I v'as her dove."
Seriously considering it.
"V'hat do you think?" He looked back up at Quinn, entirely serious. "I can be a dark angel, yes?"
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Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 10:13 am
"Ferme ton bouche, Monsieur Jaklovsky." he laughed and placed a finger on Vale's mouth. "You are not a dark angel. And you don't need wings. That's my job." He glanced down at his feathers. "Sort of."
He ruffled Vale's hair, his fingers getting caught in the tangles momentarily. He had to struggle to get them out. "Besides, you can't be a cat and a bird. Unless you're like, the baby of a cat and a bird." He laughed.
"If we had a kid, he'd be a cat bird!" He giggled, and sipped some more at his hot chocolate. "That would be neat." He got caught up in the image that entered his head, and snorted. "You would have to carry the baby, though. I can't afford to gain any weight."
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Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 10:26 am
Valeriu got the gist of it, frowning around the finger silencing him. Howdarehe. Resolutely, he tilted his head to regain freedom of speech.
"You are a flightless birdsnake," he stated, succinctly. "Like an ostrich. Or a kiv'i."
Yes, Valeriu could easily imagine Quinn as one of the two kinds of strange, extinct birds he had seen in history books. He reveled in the imagery while his mussed hair attempted to eat Quinn's hand.
"I can too," he shot back. "Tezcatlipoca does it. V'hy not? I think v'ings v'ould be very nice. If you annoy me, I can just fly av'ay. You catch up too easily v'hen I v'alk."
Even when Valeriu ran very, very fast. Quinn always managed to find him. By cheating.
"I am a man," he pointed out, slowly, to ensure that Quinn understood the full ramifications of this fact. "There are no carrying of children for men. Besides, I v'ould not v'ant your flightless genes passing onto any one child of mine. Cripple birds."
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Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 10:40 am
"Or a penguin," He added, with a grin. "In a little tuxedo." He got off of Vale's lap, and waved his hand dismissively to go spoon the excess macaroni into a tupperware container. "You're not Tezcatlipoca. And I'd catch up anyway. And find you."
He frowned at Vale, and stuck the tupperware container in the fridge. "I'm sure flightlessness is a recessive trait. If you were a cat bird, you would probably pass on the good flying skills." He thought about that, for a moment. Maybe Quetzalcoatl would make him able to fly. That would be fun.
He fiddled with his short hair, and set the pot in the sink. "I'm not a cripple, I was designed this way. I could call you a cripple for not being able to do a straight jump five times your height. Cripple cat."
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Posted: Sat Sep 12, 2009 10:47 am
"A v'addling penguin," he elaborated, mindfully, and leaned back into his chair, enjoying the warmth the cocoa left in his normally chilled body. "If I flew up very high, you could not find me."
The thought sounded more and more appealing by the minute.
"And I v'ould eat any pigeons you send to heckle me up on my spire."
He stretched in a distinctly smug fashion, crossing one ankle over the other and inspecting the leftovers of some healing wounds on his arms dismissively.
"I can," he countered, and buffed his nails against the mirror on his chest. "So you are still the only cripple here."
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