Part 19 - Leaving

--------------

The boy02/07/2020

Able was gone. His things, his weasels. The gifts he was given stayed, however. He left a note on the bandaged's desk "Sorry." . He was gone so long, that Thomas went up to see the bandaged. Thomas hadn't heard from him in over a month, which was a pain, considering he could really use someone with his skills for a job he needed done. Thomas set up to the tower, paying a visit to the bandaged man. Maybe he would know.

.

February 8, 2020

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man is lying on the ground of the main room, losing his mind. Not literally, of course, though he has seriously considered doing as such so he could stop being so bored. Able has left. . .well, he hadn't any idea how long he was gone; he never kept clocks in his home, and he could only roughly figure out days from when he went to sleep. They've already finished their secret stash of wines almost as soon as Able left; they emptied all their bottles of honey the week after that. . .at least, it felt like a week; even the laudanum and apples were gone. Ah, the sweet taste of the Sun. . . The bandaged man is currently lying face-first into the ground, groaning very, very loudly.

The Bandaged: Ughhhh. . .are they back yet?

A hat perched on a small metal rod ruffles, turning away from the bandaged man.

Charlemagne: NO. HE WASN'T HERE WHEN YOU ASKED BEFORE. HE ISN'T HERE NOW. I'LL BET HE WON'T BE HERE THE NEXT TIME YOU ASK.

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas walks through the door, stepping through with some difficulty.

Thomas: Why is this so heavy.

Thomas sighs, squirming through the door-window.

Thomas: Oh! You're here. Good. Have you seen Able?

they02/08/2020

Charlemagne: WHO'RE YOU? ARE YOU A RESPECTABLE PERSON OR OF A SOCIALLY VALUED POSITION?

The bandaged man perks up their head when they hear the door being opened, scrambling and lifting their head off the floor.

The Bandaged: Whuh! I'm sober! I'm clean as a saint! . .oh. It's just you.

The bandaged man falls back onto the floor, groaning.

The Bandaged: Hell if I know. . .he's jus. . .he's out doing a chore, or something, I'm sure. . . Charlemagne: HE LEFT THIS DISGRACE.

The bandaged man scowls.

The Bandaged: -Loudly.- No! . .no, no, he's. . .he's just out and about.

Charlemagne: HE HAS LEFT A MESSAGE ON YOUR DESK.

The Bandaged: -Even louder.- NO! No, he's. . .he's saying he's sorry that he's gonna be out for so long. . .that's all. . .that's all. . .

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas looks down at the bandaged, then up at the hat.

Thomas: -To Charlemagne- Greetings.

He sighs. So he's not here either huh.

Thomas: Well he hasn't contacted me in a month, so I don't know what you did. Or if he's in trouble, or anything. I can't get any of my contacts to admit to knowing where he is, if anywhere.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man scowled, sitting up.

The Bandaged: I did nothing to him. Did you know, he started taking my stuff? He's been politely robbing me of my wines, and my food!

The Bandaged: -Dramatically falling to the ground, hands outstretched.- I've been staarving. . .look at me. . .wasting away. .

Charlemagne: YOU WERE ALREADY DOING THAT.

The Bandaged: -Lounging on the ground; scowling.- I've had nothing to eat for a month. . .but not even death will take me. . .I'm so boored, Thomas. . .

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas kneels in front of the bandaged man.

Thomas: So you don't know why he left? Are his weasels even here? He wouldn't go anywhere unwillingly without them.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man lies on the ground, their eyebrows knit in concentration.

The Bandaged: . . .if they were, they ought to be dead by now; I haven't left any food out for them. Charlemagne: THEY'RE NOT. THANK GOD; THE DARK COATED RODENTS KEEP PULLING ME ALONG AND SOILING MY FABRIC.

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas: -Looking up at Charlemagne- Thank you.

Thomas stands.

Thomas: Alright. Let's get you something to eat then. Come now.

they02/08/2020

The Bandaged: Noo, the floor is comfy. . .can you bring it to me, instead?

Charlemagne: GET UP, YOU BUFFOON.

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas looks at the door. Ah. That's how it was held up. He wipes off the ink holding up the door as it falls to the floor loudly.

Thomas: Come now, we'll get you some of my surface stock.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man shrieks as the door clatters against the floor, skittering away from the door.

The Bandaged: I'M INNOCENT! . .oh. . .oh god, I thought it was gunfire. . .christ, like the constables. . .

The bandaged man slowly moves to stand up, groaning.

The Bandaged: Mmf! Alright. .. .I'm famished, anyhow. . .

The boy02/08/2020

----

Thomas takes the bandaged man to his home, slowly. He seemed to still be weak, though that could just be from not eating, or not drinking. Thomas didn't care, all he cared about was Able and where he was. He suspected that the bandaged man had something to do with it, but didn't press further. The inside of Thomas's home was cleaner than usual, and he'd gotten a new rug for the floor. He seats the bandaged man onto one of his chairs, and places a tray of various fruits in front of him, and a glass of clear water.

Thomas: The wine season is over, unfortunately. I should have stock in a couple weeks, though.

Thomas sits, sighing.

Thomas: Now, do you know where he might be?

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man immediately grabs the nearest fruit and bites into it; whether the peel is edible or not doesn't matter to him.

The Bandaged: Oh, god. . .sweet, sweet luxury. . .mmph. . .

The bandaged man grabs the glass of water, downing the entirety in one, long draw.

The Bandaged: -Burbling.- Oh god, CLEAN water. . .

The bandaged man quickly downs the fruit they were holding, moving to grab at another piece of fruit,

The Bandaged: Mmph. . .I have no idea.

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas sighs. At least this fruit wouldn't go bad. He had enough issues with rotting fruit.

Thomas: Well the deacon won't tell me, if he knows.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man reaches for another piece of fruit, plucking it from the tray.

The Bandaged: Do you think he knows?

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas sits back in his seat.

Thomas: He spent a lot of time with Able, I would surprised if he didn't. At least he might know more than us. We'd have to convince him to part with that information though.

Thomas: He might be chasing his soul, which might be enough reason to keep tabs on him..

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man pauses, before speaking and spitting small flecks of peel about.

The Bandaged: -Mouth full of mashed fruit.- . . .do you think he kidnapped 'im?

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas shakes his head.

Thomas: Unlikely. The deacon gets most of his abstractions through long term charm. He might be biding his time. So he probably knows, especially with how Able attracts devils.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged nods their head, stuffing another piece of fruit into their mouth.

The Bandaged: -Muffled by fruit.- Do'h ye'h thinh he'sh alivh?

The bandaged man's eyebrows furrow.

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas shrugs.

Thomas: Don't talk with your mouth full dear. Though anything is possible. If he's dead he's probably fine either way. I'm sure he knows how to deal with that.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man sits back, swallowing and twiddling their hands.

The Bandaged: Well, I hope they don't. . . they are. . .

The Bandaged: -Pausing.- . . .e-er, they're very concerned about their weasels and them dying while he's gone.

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas: Indeed. It wouldn't be much good for them.

Thomas thinks for a bit.

Thomas: I checked his home. It was gone. Well. Bare. So clearly he was trying to get away in some manner.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man reaches over to pluck a grape, rolling it back and forth between their fingers.

The Bandaged: From what, though? A Spire, nevermind the Bazaar, is one of the most heavily guarded areas. . .

[

1:44 AM

]

The bandaged man pauses.

The Bandaged: . . .do you have any wine?

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas: That's a very interesting question.

Thomas leans forward.

Thomas: No. Its dry here today.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man scowls.

The Bandaged: Why not? This place would be lively with some Greyfields.

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas stands, moving over to the bandaged man, looking down at him.

Thomas: Dear. Is there something you're not telling me?

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man sits back in their chair, popping a grape into their mouth.

The Bandaged: -Chewing.- About what?

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas hums.

Thomas: About Able, dear. Unless you don't want to find him? I didn't expect you to be so heartless.

they02/08/2020

The Bandaged: Oy, where do you get off on accusing me, eh?

The bandaged man stands up from their chair, pouting.

The Bandaged: He's been very bothersome lately, taking my wine and my honey and my laudanum and even my tinctures! I've had nothing but water and bread. It's so boring.

The bandaged man sits down in their seat, their body going limp as they groan.

The Bandaged: Ughh. . .and then they got all touchy with me after I used a box cut with moonlight, or. . .or something like that. . .

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas looks at the bandaged man for a moment, before moving back to his seat.

Thomas: Ah. I see. Do you know what he saw?

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man raises a hand lazily, waving it about while their other hand moves to pluck another grape.

The Bandaged: Like Hell if I know. . .he's been touchy about talking about it. . .

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas sighs heavily.

Thomas: Well if you don't know, then we'll have to stake him out. Perhaps he's still doing regular meets with the deacon? Unless he's stopped talking to him to.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man lightly pushes the grape past their lips, the fruit parting their lips before they suck it in with a pop. They suddenly sit up, convulsing.

The Bandaged: -Coughing.- Ac-hrK! . .ghh. . .

The Bandaged: -Wiping themselves off.- . . .ugh. . .wrong pipe. . .they head to Caligula's on, uh, Sunday's, right?

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas: Indeed. They sometimes aren't there, so perhaps they have more than one meeting place? This is the safest bet, though.

Thomas gestures vaguely.

Thomas: We have a couple days till then, so make yourself presentable.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man furrows their eyes, jabbing a thumb to their chest.

The Bandaged: Oy, I am presentable.

The bandaged man is currently wearing a Polythreme dress shirt and vest, and what looks to be a long kilt of some kind. The vest is unbuttoned and hanging off of one sleeve, and their dress shirt is stained.

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas looks the bandaged man up and down.

Thomas: Dear you're a mess..

[

8:39 PM

]

-------------------------

[

8:44 PM

]

The two made a plan, and prepared themselves. At least. Thomas did. Wearing a respectable set of clothing, dark but not suspicious. The bandaged man however... He was wearing a bright, horribly red dress, but Thomas was not having it. Thomas convinced him to wear something over it, but he couldn't convince him to take off the dress all together. He pouted and complained and whined until Thomas relented. Thomas was starting to see why Able might have wanted to leave. Though, he was never one to give up so easily and avoid things. Thomas groans, even when they started towards the spot. Able wasn't there yet. That was good. They headed into Calugula's, and Thomas prayed to any god that would listen that the bandaged man would behave himself.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man is following behind Thomas, growling as they adjust the bowtie he had "given" him.

The Bandaged: So. . .you're paying for this, right?

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas: Dear if you keep quiet I'll pay for it.

Thomas finds an empty table, sitting comfortably and waits for the wait staff to come by.

Thomas: Otherwise you might have to find your own payroll.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man waves Thomas off, seating themselves across from him.

The Bandaged: Pah. . .the staff here would charge a whole lot more if they knew I was paying. . .you're poor enough to have the regular rate.

The bandaged man lounges in their seat, spreading their legs and arms.

The Bandaged: So. . .why did we come here so early?

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas waves over a waitress, quietly telling her his order.

Thomas: Two teas, sugar on the side, thank you.

Thomas turns to the bandaged man while the waitress heads off.

Thomas: Because they would certainly notice you coming in.

they02/08/2020

The Bandaged: -Pouting.- . . .oy, you didn't let me tell her my order.

The bandage sits up in their chair, kicking their leg to free the bunched up hem of their red under-dress tucked underneath their coat.

The Bandaged: And I am excellent at blending in. You know, I used to do plenty of flash lays. . .

***

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas snorts.

Thomas: Sweetheart you couldn't blend into the night if you were covered in ink.

Thomas pulls out a booklet, writing some things down. Some people were saying some interesting things around him. A suitor? A lonely poet? Interesting.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man scowls, waggling a finger and gesturing at Thomas.

The Bandaged: -Low.- Hiding in the night is easy; you know what's hard? Tricking someone into thinking you're a duke of Hell, that your return is almost nigh, and that you are here to take the souls that this esteemed spirifer has collected. That takes skill.

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas looks up, raising an eyebrow.

Thomas: It's easy to convince someone you're up your own arse in self esteem when its already true.

Able walks in, wearing a different sweater, but still clearly cold, a dress shirt under it. He's talking to the deacon, but it's hard to make out with all the sounds. Able moves to a table near the door, sitting.

they02/08/2020

The deacon is following behind Able, sitting across from him.

Virgil: You get cold far too easily.

The boy02/08/2020

Able looks unamused.

Able: We all don't have the benefit of layers between us and the world, deacon.

Able smiles at a passing by waiter, and orders some hot coffee and a small thing of rolls. He orders some tea for the deacon, remembering last second that he likely wanted the leaves strained out, and tells the waiter. The waiter writes things down and leaves.

Able: How's baking going, by the way? Did you get any use out of that book?

they02/08/2020

The deacon nods politely.

Virgil: I've managed to finish making the recipes focused on simple doughs. I've made several plain rolls, but I'm hoping to be able to make a proper pastry by the end of the week.

The boy02/08/2020

Able: That's good, let me know if you ever need an extra pair of hands.

Able sighs, thinking to himself for a moment. He wonders a bit too hard. Able blinks, shaking his head a bit.

Able: It sounds like it's certainly keeping you distracted, at least I hope so.

they02/08/2020

The deacon nods.

Virgil: It's been keeping me occupied; whether it's sufficient remains to be seen.

Meanwhile, the bandaged man is tapping the table they're seated at, their head tilted with an ear towards the table.

The Bandaged: -Tapping at different spots.- . . .hey, listen; there's different pitches, depending on where you tap. Hang on, let me see if I can recreate London Bridge. . .

The boy02/08/2020

Able tilts his head a bit. His thought is interrupted by the waiter who brings by their drinks, and rolls. Able takes a roll right away. Nodding thankfully at the waiter.

Able: Oh, right. I remembered a question I had!

Thomas, meanwhile, is already enjoying his drink. He stares at the bandaged man.

Thomas: Do you want them to notice us?

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man scowls, palming their tea cup but continuing to tap the table.

The Bandaged: Come off of it; it's noisy enough in this cafe. . .who's going to listen to some tapping?

The deacon grabs their tea, sipping from it before setting it down.

Virgil: Mh. Go on.

The boy02/08/2020

Able thinks for a moment.

Able: Well, do you have a stinger or...? Because all the times I've run into lamplighter bees was incredibly dangerous. I'm not aware of if that's something similar but, well I can't imagine its much more different.

He takes a bite out of his bread. Thomas sighs, sipping his tea.

Thomas: Those who listen for a living.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man keeps tapping.

The Bandaged: Well, whoever is listening. . .

The bandaged man taps in a sequence; the thumping of the wood vaguely sounds like the tune of London Bridge is Falling Down.

The deacon pauses, before clearing their throat.

Virgil: . . .yes. Why, do you wish to be pricked by it?

The boy02/08/2020

Able furrows his brow, suddenly looking very serious. He had already finished a whole roll. He takes another one.

Able: Well. We'll see.

Able takes a bite out of his second roll, then starts snickering to himself. He sighs, happy to get something in his gut.

Able: Ah, sorry, I was merely curious. No, I'd imagine that would be highly unpleasant for both of us.

Thomas, is watching Able and the deacon closely, but more distracted by the bandaged man to gauge what they were saying.

Thomas: Hm. Interesting.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man continues rapping on the table, leaning in and resting their ear against the table.

The Bandaged: Hey, I think I can play Friar Jacque on this. . . The Bandaged: -Tapping.- Fri. . .ar. . .Ja. . .blast, hang on.

The deacon sits back, raising their tea to his lips.

Virgil: I think I have the better end of the deal; you'd end up horribly poisoned, and I'd merely have some of my insides gone. Altogether, not too big of a issue when death is a stranger in the Neath..

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas suddenly grabs the bandaged man's hand harshly and firmly.

Thomas: Hush. They're talking.

Able laughs quietly.

Able: At least you could finally take what you want at that point. And-

Able sits up suddenly.

Able: Hm. Must be nothing. Oh yes! I remember.

He takes a long drink of his coffee, making a face afterwards that indicated he did not enjoy that.

Able: eugh. Well I was wondering, If you had ever done anything before being a deacon?

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man scowls, trying to pull their hand free out of Thomas's grip.

The Bandaged: -At regular volume.- Oy, I almost had it!

The deacon drinks from their tea.

Virgil: Mh. I used to collect dues from spirifers; they'd pledge allegiance to Hell, and I'd stop by at the end of the month for the Brass Embassy to collect what they're owed. Profitable. Virgil: -Drinking.- Immoral. Profitable, however.

The deacon sets down their tea cup, tilting their head back a bit as they think.

Virgil: Before that. . .well, I worked as a medic. I had plenty of experience during London's invasion of Hell..

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas is hushing the bandaged man.

Thomas: Shush, do you want them to hear you whining?

Able is nodding whilst the deacon is talking. He'd not heard of the invasion before, at least not formally, and only through the lense of other Londoners.

Able: Was it difficult? I have to admit I've not heard a lot about it but... none of it was good..

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man swats at Thomas with their other hand.

The Bandaged: -Tense; forced whisper.- I'm not whining; your the one who's whisper-yelling!

The deacon chokes on the middle of drinking their tea, struggling to keep their composure as they lower the cup down. They're subtly convulsing, their body pushing up with each swallowed laugh.

Virgil: -Slowly smiling; biting their tongue.- . . .difficult? . .no, no; my role as a medic was. . .largely ceremonial. . .Hell had won without nary a struggle. . .I ought to. . .show you some war memorabilia. . .

The deacon is disguising their slow smile by moving to drink from their teacup.

The boy02/08/2020

Able tilts his head.

Able: Oh, no wonder everyone is so sore then.

Able snickers to himself. He guessed they likely improperly sized them up, surely they should have known. Thomas is getting very annoyed.

Thomas: -Very stressed whisper- I wouldn't have to if you didn't keep making so much noise. I'm trying to listen..

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man keeps swatting at Thomas's head, gritting their teeth.

The Bandaged: -Forced whisper.- Fine, just let go of my hand. . .I can't drink my tea, being accosted like this. . .

The deacon lowers their cup, their breathing steady as they set the tea cup down onto the floor. They sigh, their head tilted downwards at a slight angle.

Virgil: Yes. . .well. . .I can't say that it's not undeserved. Hell fought its wars in the same way we do our hunts; without any rules. Virgil: Any rules.

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas let's the bandaged man go, and sits back. Going back to focusing on Able and Virgil. Able nods, finishing his second roll.

Able: -Muttering to himself.- Hm. Odd.

Able is listening for a moment, but doesn't hear anything else. Now he was suspicious.

Able: Ah! Well I would expect so. Hm... I suppose the stingers came in handy then, mh?

Able takes another large drink out of his coffee, making that same face. He feels more awake now, though.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man grabs their tea, bringing it up to their lips and drinking.

The Bandaged: Oy, finally. . .

The bandaged man drinks for a moment, before setting the cup down onto the table with a clink. . . .the bandaged man lifts the cup, and brings it down with another clink.

The Bandaged: . . .hm. . .

The bandaged man sips from the tea cup again, and clinks it quietly but repeatedly against the saucer.

The Bandaged: -Musing.- Ah, the tea level affects the tone. . .

The deacon coughs, palming their tea cup.

Virgil: We used guns, not stingers. The occasional goat demon, as well.

The boy02/08/2020

Thomas is about at his limit. He sits seething, watching the two. Able blinks, looking seriously at deacon.

Able: Have they always been there?

they02/08/2020

The deacon lifts their tea cup, sipping.

Virgil: Mh. Yes. The particular quality of the bandaged man's soul is hard to ignore. Virgil: -Setting down their cup.- Which reminds me; you said that you were taking a break?

The boy02/08/2020

Able looks angry, looking off to the side.

Able: I was. Apparently I'm not hard enough to find.

Able looks back at the deacon.

Able: How troublesome.

He finishes his coffee in a last little swig, shuddering with the bitter taste.

Able: Do you want to go on a small walk?

they02/08/2020

The deacon lifts their teacup, draining it without noise.

Virgil: Mh, if you wish. Though, you are aware that they're going to be insistent on following?

The bandaged man is clinking their cup against the saucer, humming.

The Bandaged: Dum. . .dum dee dum. . .

The boy02/08/2020

Able waves over a waiter quickly paying for the food and drinks before standing.

Able: I'm planning on it.

Able is grinning. Thomas gets anxious, watching Able start to leave.

Thomas: Hell, they're leaving, come on.

Thomas is trying to get the attention of one of the wait staff.

they02/08/2020

The bandaged man groans, setting their cup down and moving to stand up.

The Bandaged: Aw, do we have to leave? I just got a nice rhythm to this clinking, and I don't have tea cups at home.

The deacon stands up, straightening their collar.

Virgil: Oh? What do you have in mind, then?

The boy02/08/2020

Able: I'll tell you outside, they won't follow close enough to hear out there.

Able starts heading towards the exit, holding the door for the deacon. Thomas sighs heavily.

Thomas: Alright. You stay here and pay the bill, then, and I'll go get Able.

February 9, 2020

they02/09/2020

The bandaged man quickly pushes their cup to the center.

The Bandaged: -Hurriedly.- Oh, by all means! I'll go ahead, while you pay for the bill.

The bandaged man walks ahead, waving off Thomas very quickly. The deacon is follows behind, grabbing the door and closing it behind themselves on behalf of Able.

Virgil: You don't need to hold doors open for me. Virgil: -Walking ahead.- Now, what is your plan?

The boy02/09/2020

Thomas sighs waiting for the staff to get to him while the bandaged man flees. He couldn't seem to find a person who had his check, which was bothersome. He was biting his tongue, wanting to leave already. Eventually someone did find the person who had it, (apparently they were on break) and quickly paid.

Thomas: Yes, thank you. Mhm.

they02/09/2020

A moment passes. And then, a horribly loud, but muffled screech; the noise is bandaged's voice, reverberating through the windows

The Bandaged: -Muffled; screechy.- Oh my God! Oh heavens above! Oh my God, you scoundrel! Get back here!

The boy02/09/2020

Thomas quickly heads outside, almost running.

Thomas: What happened?!

they02/09/2020

The bandaged man is stumbling forwards, tripping and falling face-first into the ground. A figure is rushing off in the distance, hoisting Able's body over their shoulder and brandishing a fork in their other hand.

The Bandaged: -Yelling.- Ow! Blasted. . .he took his soul! He probed it out and took his soul!

The bandaged man stands up again, running. . .not all that fast, and wheezing.

The Bandaged: -Wheezily screeching.- Get back here, you devil! You fiend! You horrible host! You impolite. . .urchin!

The bandaged man has taken off their coat and has thrown it (not very far, mind you) in the direction of the (already long gone) deacon.

The boy02/09/2020

Thomas groans loudly, running up with the bandaged man, his pace being not very hard to keep up with.

Thomas: Aw hell! I didn't think he'd actually go for it so bluntly! -------

The boy02/09/2020

Able's new home was much nicer than his older one, which wasn't saying much. His weasels did have the little house still, and were currently sleeping inside. The door rattled curiously, and the man who owned the building kept trying to talk to the deacon about his woes. It was clean, and orderly at the very least. The kitchen looked well used, even within the short time he's been here. Perhaps another tenant lived here before for a long time? it was still small, and there was barely any furniture. There was however a single sofa, looking like possibly the newest thing in here. It was still old looking, though. There were two doors in the back, presumably bedrooms or something of the sort.

they02/09/2020

The deacon is scooching around the weasels, waving as they carry a relaxed Able over their shoulder.

Virgil: Yes, yes. Nice weasels. Shoo. . .hm. Boo. I'm a devil. Bad news; you ought to run.

The deacon is carrying Able along, setting down onto the sofa, onto their back and laying across it. They're tugging at their sleeve, making light conversation with Able. . .less for their sake and more for his.

Virgil: Yes, well. . .how're you holding up?

The boy02/09/2020

Able sighs, looking up at the deacon. Magenta is staring at the deacon from across the room, looking as intimidating as something can at that size.

Able: Mh. Alive.

Able closes his eyes. This would be a good time to sleep, he thinks.

they02/09/2020

Virgil: Mh, that's good.

The deacon pulls out their metal crook, kneeling as they sit besides Able.

Virgil: Now, this won't hurt a bit.

The deacon places the crook around Able's neck, and pushes against his neck such that his skin depresses around it (but not so hard as to choke them); their gaze is shifting at something unseen between their wrist and his neck.

Virgil: Just a little working back in. . .

The deacon rocks the crook back and forth along Able's neck, almost like working a saw through a log.

A moment passes. Able can feel a warming sensation returning through their body as the deacon finishes up.

Virgil: Ah. A success this time.

The deacon sighs, pulling the crook off of Able's neck and tucking it back into their sleeves.

Virgil: -Nonchalantly.- So why did you decide to move?

The boy02/09/2020

Able opens his eyes, furrowing his brow. Well. I guess he took it more literally than... ah right. Devil. Able pushes his hair back out of his face before sitting up slowly.

Able: Well that's twice now.

He is trying to keep himself calm, but its easy to tell he's panicking a bit.

Able: Ah. Well..

Able clasps his hands together.

Able: Turns out.... ah, I needed.... Time.... away. From the bandaged man. Just a little.

Able looks away. A little flustered.

Able: Ah but, I'll return. Eventually.

they02/09/2020

The deacon looks around the room, pondering.

Virgil: May I ask why you needed time away?

The boy02/09/2020

Able scoffs, leaning back on his couch.

Able: I could make a list. This particular instance though..?

Able sighs, remembering why he was so mad, and now he was just tired.

Able: An argument about his own mirrorcatch box experience, apparently mine was "better" somehow. Told him not to blame other people for his problems, but that probably wasn't the time to go shouting at him.

Able removes his sweater, leaving on the plain dress shirt underneath, groaning.

Able: I certainly could have handled it better.

they02/09/2020

The deacon looks for a place to seat themselves, coughing when they notice there's only the sofa.

Virgil: Mh. Allow me to take a guess; has he been withholding his appetite? His soul seemed less clouded when he. . ."ran" after me.

The boy02/09/2020

Able scoots over to one side of the sofa, gesturing next to him when he notices the deacon looking around.

Able: Who knows what he's been doing without me at the spire. I expected him to be back on top of his drinking as soon as I left.

Able tries to get his neck to stop twinging, rubbing the back of it. Turns out being carried limply was not great for the spine.

Able: -Sighing.- I hope he hasn't, though. I really did want him to notice how much clearer his head would be without wine and honey.

they02/09/2020

The deacon nods, seating themselves besides Able as they lean back into the cushion. Ah, that explains it.

Virgil: -Musing.- Well, he has quite a bit that he wishes he'd rather not remember. I don't believe that the best way for him to be dealing with it is with hedonistic endeavors, but, short of making a large, false narrative for him to follow and conquer, there's not much else healing that he could do.

The boy02/09/2020

Able looks over at the deacon.

Able: If you don't remember the past, you can't look to the future.

He says bluntly, a thing he very clearly believes.

Able: I guess we have different... ah... values on that front.

Able thinks for a moment.

Able: I'm curious. How does it feel to eat a soul? You seem rather keen on them, especially if you're invested in the bandaged man and all he's worth. I can't imagine it's all that good..

they02/09/2020

The deacon pauses, sitting back in their seat.

Virgil: . . .imagine that you could relive the first time you've enjoyed something. Something new that you've tried for the first time, and discovering that it was something that you absolutely enjoyed.

The deacon flips their collar up, smoothing it out and clutching their rosary.

Virgil: Now imagine that every experience felt that way. That even things you already knew could feel entirely novel and enjoyable. Virgil: . . .that's what a soul that has lived an interesting life tastes like..

The boy02/09/2020

Able: Hm. I can see why that would be enjoyable.

Able looks away, thinking.

Able: Must be really difficult to control yourself then? I've seen what happens when merely a drunk doesn't get his drink, but that sounds like a whole other thing. I couldn't even imagine most people not wanting to take advantage of that.

Able leans back, sighing.

Able: I apologize, then. Putting you through that for a joke.

they02/09/2020

The deacon pauses, before sitting back.

Virgil: I've had more tempting souls than yours. Certainly, you seem born from above, and that's very enticing. . .but you could spiritually mature in a lot more ways before you become a delicacy.

The deacon clears their throat.

Virgil: Ahem. . .and I find it particularly strange that you're apologizing to a devil that was responsible for your soul being taken out. Twice.

The boy02/09/2020

Able looks over at him, his brow furrowed, annoyed.

Able: Aye, aye, right, I'm a lowly twat I got it.

He leans back again.

Able: Besides, you're not just any devil, deacon, you're a good acquaintance that I respect.

***

they02/09/2020

Virgil: Ah, not lowly. Merely that you haven't experienced as much as you could.

The deacon sits back in the sofa, sighing.

Virgil: When you have the chance, you ought to visit my church in the Iron Republic. Much more splendorous. Much more detailed and homely.

The boy02/09/2020

Able: That would be a good trip, but only if you'll be there. I'm not about to be turned into bricks for the amusement of others.

Able rubs his neck again, still sore, until it cracks. He pauses, looking embarrassed.

Able: A-Ah. Anyway. If its any more detailed than your london church I cannot imagine how much more it can get.

they02/09/2020

The deacon gives a chuffed laugh.

Virgil: Ha! I really ought to invite you to an infernal soiree. I'd imagine your eyes would bleed from seeing the wonderful designs in Hell. Metaphorically, of course, unless you look too close.

The boy02/09/2020

Able: Well if you're going to invite me formally you should give me at least a day in advanced! I'm sure I could pick out some.... detailed sunglasses to match the decorating.

Able hums, a little bit more relaxed now that his spine didn't feel so strained.

Able: Do you enjoy such functions anyhow?

they02/09/2020

The deacon pauses.

Virgil: . . .in a sense. It's nostalgic for me.

The deacon looks at the weasels in the room.

Virgil: I'm not well received in Hell for obvious reasons. And while I still get invited to the formal events, I suspect it's more ceremonial than anything. Virgil: -Quietly chuckling.- . . .I used to do needlework; did you know that?

The boy02/09/2020

Winter and Elle are asleep in a pile, the only ones that are awake are Swees and Magenta. Swees keeps nuzzling Magenta but she just pushes her down and grooms her.

Able: Needlework? Why don't you still?

Able tilts his head.

Able: Not enough time?

they02/09/2020

The deacon waves off Able.

Virgil: Not quite. I can make my own time given enough souls to keep the engines running. . .which, by the way, is another reason why your soul is tempting; Surface souls have more vitality to them.

The deacon sighs.

Virgil: I miss the anachronism, and the largescale law machines. I've always done artwork of Paris, but I can't do it anymore since I can't remember at the time, and I certainly can't continue remembering once it ceases to have happened.

The boy02/09/2020

Able: Ah. I didn't get any of that.

Able watches with new concern as Magenta makes a walk around the deacon. She's watching him very carefully, but Swees keeps following her, guiding them both into the kitchen. Able sigh. He wasn't sure about how safe the weasels were around the deacon, but he couldn't predict how they would act towards him.

they02/09/2020

The deacon stares at Able, before looking at Magenta circling the deacon.

Virgil: . . .don't fret. They don't have souls.

The boy02/09/2020

Able: I'm not worried about that.

Able gives the deacon a look, a fearful look.

Able: I've seen some people...

Able looks away, shuddering.

Able: Stomp on weasels before. For... some reason..?

they02/09/2020

Virgil: Well it's not some reason; they find it amusing. Or, perhaps, they were pushed to do so and decided to follow through so as to establish their reputation.

The boy02/09/2020

Able: A shame..

Able takes a long shaky breath and sighs heavily.

Able: Hm.

Able thinks, trying to ignore himself.

Able: Do you mind if I ask you a sort of personal question? I.. Still feel like something was off with... some of your activities.

they02/09/2020

The deacon gives a small chuckle.

Virgil: By that measure, I suppose this is your twentieth personal question. Go on, then.

The boy02/09/2020

Able: You're very interesting! I'm sorry?

Able throws his hands up, mildly miffed and embarrassed. He slouches a bit on the sofa, groaning.

Able: I was just wondering what sort of oaths they had you take as a deacon, because I was under the impression that you were supposed to abstain from things like alcohol, sex, or other indulgences. Able: I don't think have twelve glasses at Thomas's party is considered abstaining..

they02/09/2020

Virgil: You overestimate the capability of a devil to convince their superiors that they followed the oaths they have made. Down to the letter.

The deacon twiddles their fingers together, lightly speaking to an imaginary third party.

Virgil: -Distantly.- Your eminence. . .no, not evangelical enough. . .your holiness, I was not indulging. . .if you had spent any time around the bandaged man, who belongs in my congregation, you would understand that it was a necessity. If you truly believe that all wine is to be abstained from, then you would similarly expect me to not serve the eucharist, and abstain from the pouring of wine; but it is a necessity to do as such for Mass. Virgil: Likewise, I needed those glasses to more efficiently forgive the transgressions my council have made.

The boy02/09/2020

Able: Ah. He does cause such great grief doesn't he?

Able leans back, sighing.

they02/09/2020

Virgil: For you, perhaps.

The deacon keeps looking at Magenta, observing the choker around her neck.

Virgil: . . .he's moreso just pitiful to me.

The boy02/09/2020

The eye on the choker moves to face the deacon, dilating. Magenta turns away from the deacon.

Able: Pitiful, pathetic, depressing, and all that and still that old man has the time and energy to lewdly harass me.

Able is counting on his fingers, and then just gestures vaguely.

they02/09/2020

The deacon unhooks their watch, looking at the time.

Virgil: -To themselves.- It is a shame, isn't it? Even after all that work at the University, and the like. . .ah, but it'll leave an excellent finish.

The boy02/09/2020

Able glances at the deacon.

Able: Right. Well I've kept you busy too long.

Able groans, standing, stretching.

Able: Ah, thank you for joining me for tea today, and then some. I'll be sure to clear your good name with Thomas and the Bandaged man..

they02/09/2020

Virgil: I would appreciate that greatly, for I need both of their services. Do emphasize that it was your idea specifically; I suspect they'd be inclined to treat you as a child and claim you were misguided and deceived.

The deacon reattaches their brooch watch, before standing up, brushing themselves off.

Virgil: Tricked by a devil, as it were.

The boy02/09/2020

Able: Of course. I wouldn't want to give them the wrong idea.

Able moves to open the door.

Able: Mh, tricked would imply you wanted to give it back. I wouldn't want to give them the thought that you're soft.

they02/09/2020

The deacon gives a polite bow, and moves to the door.

Virgil: Now Able, where on earth did you hear that I was soft?

The boy02/09/2020

Able: Oh, merely rumor. Come back any time.

Able shuts the door as the deacon leaves, sighing. At least that was over. He supposes he should start on those cards.

-------------------