Part 25 - Christmas(Snow)

The boy02/26/2020

Able had awakened to weasels jumping onto him. He groans, as they nip and bite at his hands and face playfully. They wanted food and they wanted it now. Able scoops his squirmy pets into his arms, laughing and trying to get them to sit still as he got out of bed. Swees escaped and Magenta made her way onto Able's shoulder. It was a fairly normal morning. Able feeds his pets, who all scatter towards their bowls. It was extremely violent how they tore apart the meat, but it was normal. Able gets dressed, moving down to the bookshop. He sees the snow. He groans. Of course, it was around that time. Able starts to head outside, knowing he'll have to shovel it out of the way. The book keep seemed to be away for this morning at least.

they02/26/2020

Outside, snow falls from the sky in small flaky clumps. The road in front of the book store, along with the sidewalk and even the small steps heading up along the bookstore entrance, was cleared of snow (though, with the rate snow was falling, it'd be ending up covered again by night). Besides the door entrance, Able can see a man dressed in a warm, sensibly colored coat shoveling snow into a large pile off to the side of the steps, with two large, metal buckets set on either side. They're working wordlessly, their face covered with a large scarf wrapped around. They're shoveling large lumps of the snow into the buckets, humming a small tune as they do so.

The boy02/26/2020

Able looks over, surprised. He didn't know anyone else lived here.

Able: Oh. Well thank you?

they02/26/2020

???: -Muffled.- Ah? Oh!

The person lifts their gaze, looking up at Able. They're dressed in a sensibly black coat, accented with a pleasantly green scarf wrapped around their neck. His head is covered by a small, round hat that pleasantly catches onto the falling snow, and his hands are gloved with modest leather gloves. The man grabs at the scarf, pulling it down for a bit to expose their face a bit better. It's the bandaged man. Despite the fact that it's cold and freezing outside, they're wearing a crooked, but warming, grin. No part of their face (apart from their eyes and mouth) is exposed; the bandages are tied back snugly without any slacks, and their face seems much more smoothly defined in this manner. Their eyes aren't clouded, their mouth isn't glossy with wine or honey, and even their clothes are just clothes, not living Polythremi creatures. The bandaged man grabs the top of their head, lifting it up and tipping it to Able.

The Bandaged: -Less muffled; setting it back onto their head.- Good morning, Able! Did you rest well yesterday evenin'?

The boy02/26/2020

Able takes a step back, startled. Was.. no... who?

Able: What in the hell?!

Able quickly grabs the bandaged man arms, severely confused.

Able: Are you dying? Sick? What are you doing out here so early?

Able couldn't figure out how this was the same man he'd lived with for four months. Even his speech and posture seemed different.

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man drops their shovel and lets out a small startled gasp, but they let themselves be pulled along by Able.

The Bandaged: -Surprised, but amused.- Ah! . .oh! Goodness, Able, what's gotten into you?

The bandaged man pulls themselves out of Able's grip with much more strength than they had before, before bending over and picking up their shovel.

The Bandaged: -Lightly holding Able's shoulder.- Is something wrong? You're not usually this on edge. . .certainly not with friends, I'd hope?

The bandaged man is moving with more restraint, yet, somehow, they seem more alive than ever; their movements aren't stilted but rather smooth, their voice is lighter and lifted, and even their face, despite being covered by bandages, feels more expressive.

The Bandaged: -Chuckling.- I'm not dying, if that's what you're concerned about; I'm much too hardy to meet the Boatman now. . .and I'm not sick, either; my mind is good enough to know that walking about in this weather while ill is a death sentence..

The boy02/26/2020

Able: Excuse me?? Are you sure you're the same man?!

Able nearly falls back, holding his head.

Able: Why couldn't you always be like this? Last I saw you... Nevermind that! What are you doing here?!

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man pauses, before looking at Able with slightly furrowed eyebrows.

The Bandaged: -A bit unsure.- I. . .thought it'd be nice to shovel some snow? I'm sorry, it's. . .it's not a problem, is it? The Bandaged: -A bit sadly; holding the shovel above the snow pile.- I can. . .put it back, if you want me to. . ?.

The boy02/26/2020

Able: No... No you're fine.. I'm just shocked!

Able reaches for the bandaged man's face, pulling him down close to look at him.

Able: Hm. Well you don't smell like wine. When's the last time you've done that?

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man pauses, adjusting their hat for a moment as they think.

The Bandaged: Why. . .I've probably had a drink a few weeks ago. Don't you know, it wouldn't do to be drunk when it snows. How else would I be able to shovel, then?.

The boy02/26/2020

Able: Ah, well... Keep it up.

Able jumps suddenly. He backs away from the bandaged.

Able: Ah! It's Sunday! I need to go meet with Virgil! Enjoy the snow!

Able runs off, waving at the bandaged as he does.

they02/26/2020

The bandaged man pauses, watching Able leave before waving as he runs off, yelling down the street.

The Bandaged: -Yelling.- Oh! Er. . .alright! I'm. . .I'm keeping the snow though, if you don't mind! Have a good meeting! . .oh, goodness, that wasn't too loud, was it? . .

The boy02/26/2020

----

Able makes his way towards Caligula's, the cold nipping at his face and neck. He would need to invest into a scarf at some point, he thought. He waits for Virgil outside the place, wanting to sit inside today. It was cold, but he figured it'd be better to go inside together than to assume the deacon would know he wanted to be inside. Able wraps his arms around his body, tucking his hands under his arms. It was too cold for him. Why did it get so cold?

they02/26/2020

The deacon wanders down the road, dressed in their usual casuals; despite the cold weather, they don't seem to have changed anything, but, if one were to look closely, they could see that the hat they have on is rounded rather than flat, and that the brim of their hat is sloped a bit more downwards to avoid letting snow accumulate on their hat. The deacon walks towards Able, giving a small wave.

Virgil: Good evening, Able. . . Virgil: -Standing in front of Able; looking down at them.- . . .may I ask why you're not dressed more warmly?

The boy02/26/2020

Able shivers, looking up at Virgil. He was glad he was finally here, lest he freeze.

Able: Ah, I got distracted on my way out...

Able moves to the door, holding it open for the deacon.

Able: The bandaged man was outside my home.. Looking.... Proper..?

February 27, 2020

they02/27/2020

The deacon heads inside, moving out of the way with a back pressed against the wall besides the door.

Virgil: Ah. . .it is that time of the year, isn't it?

The boy02/27/2020

Able goes inside, a little relieved.

Able: What do you mean?

Able starts to move over to a nearby empty table, sitting down comfortably, gesturing for the deacon to follow.

***

they02/27/2020

The deacon sits across from Able, taking their hat off and setting it down onto the table.

Virgil: The bandaged man is fueled by curiosity, and he always tends to be like this when snow begins falling. Virgil: Snow down here is different from the snow he knew above, apparently; those differences give him something to study.

The boy02/27/2020

Able is trying to warm up his hands, breathing into them.

Able: Is that the only reason he's sober? Tsk. Honestly I wish he could be so more often then.. Our conversation was pleasant.

Able sighs, looking up at the deacon.

Able: Ah, speaking of colder weather though.. Do you have any plans for the upcoming holiday festivities?

they02/27/2020

The deacon raises a hand, trying to wave a waiter over.

Virgil: I suppose I'll be doing the usual; resting in my bedroom, reading. Perhaps peer into Parabola. Virgil: -Lowering their hand as a waiter approaches.- I'm prohibited by the Church to celebrate any form of Christmas officially at my church, and I have no business to do at the Iron Republic or Hell. . .

The boy02/27/2020

Able: Hm, well I like to make a dinner for the cold season, and with the bandaged man being more sober it might go well!

Able blinks looking away.

Able: Ah, If you'd like to join. I haven't even decided if I want to put it together yet...

Able looks up at the waiter who is asking for his order. Able gets a small hot coffee and some biscuits.

they02/27/2020

Virgil: Just tea for me, please.

The deacon ponders for a moment, leaning back in their seat for a moment.

Virgil: . . .it sounds enjoyable. I'd have to do some wrangling with the Church. . .convince them that a dinner that happens on Christmas doesn't count as a celebration of it. . . Virgil: . . .I'm inclined to come. Though, I hope you don't have any animosity towards me if I find that anyone you invite will have issues with me and decide to leave..

The boy02/27/2020

Able: Anyone who would leave because of you I don't want at my dinner anyhow.

Able huffs.

Able: I would need some help putting it together too, but that's only if you'd want to. Think of it more of a gathering of people you know than a proper Christmas dinner.

they02/27/2020

Virgil: Sounds exactly like a Christmas dinner. Virgil: -Chuckling quietly, pushing their glasses on a bit harder.- A gathering of people I mostly dislike but need to have cordial relations with, and a small sprinkling of people and devils I don't mind.

The boy02/27/2020

Able: I think the food will more than make up for the more unpleasant company. At least I don't have to worry about too much knowing that the bandaged man is too... Hm.. distracted to drink.

Able leans in a bit, grinning a bit.

Able: So which am I? Someone you dislike and are merely dealing with, or someone you don't mind?

Able laughs a bit, not expecting a real answer at all. He figured the deacon would just say something vague. The waiter brings over their drinks and Able's biscuits. Able promptly dumps a whole four cubes of sugar into it before stirring his coffee.

Able: Oh! Thank you.

Able sips at the drink, shuddering at how bitter it was, but the heat was a pleasant relief from the cold.

they02/27/2020

The deacon politely nods towards the waiter, lifting the teacup up to their lips.

Virgil: I'd imagine that the fact these meetings exist should be indicative to you; you're a smart man, Able. Virgil: -Drinking from their teacup.- Mh. . .I don't make it a habit to attend meetings that I think are useless or otherwise uninteresting; you, however, are interesing. And so, I am here.

The boy02/27/2020

Able would have choked on his coffee if he hadn't put the cup down. He does however gasp, quickly looking away. He gets extremely flush, but tried to hide it with one hand.

Able: Is that so? That's nice to hear.. Ah..

Able steels himself and looks back at the deacon. He grins, trying to ignore his own emotions, but its a little difficult.

Able: At least I can be entertaining, mh?

Able takes a biscuit and takes a bite. He had to knock that off.

they02/27/2020

The deacon sits back in their chair, sipping again.

Virgil: Mh. If I wanted to be entertained, Able, I would've asked the bandaged man to try and design a better pen. Virgil: He figured out a way to make it write underwater. Mh. And only underwater.

The deacon sets the teacup down, sitting forward a little more forward with raised eyebrows.

Virgil: I sincerely hope, however, that you don't think I'm here merely cause I'm an audience watching a stage performance. At the very least, I'd think you have the faith in me to find better entertainment than this, and to have good will towards you.

The boy02/27/2020

Able nearly turns into a red beacon with how flush he was getting. He stares at the deacon.

Able: A-Ah.. Are you saying.. that we're friends, then? That's a very roundabout way to go and say that.

Able looks down at his coffee, smiling.

[

1:08 AM

]

------

they02/27/2020

The deacon is seated at the organ, playing the keys in a particular arrangement as they quietly hum. As they do so, the pew booths slowly shift along the floor; some slide down into the brassy floor, disappearing out of sight, while others slowly slide along, forming into a small circular arrangement of seats.

Virgil: -Humming.- And know of the glory that Hell wishes to share, and know that order is an authority that permits no life. . .hm.

The deacon turns around, observing the arrangement of seats.

Virgil: . . .yes, this will do for a forum discussion.

The deacon takes the sunglasses hanging around their collared neck and places it onto their eyes: they look upwards for a moment at the chandelier covered in paper and wax.

Virgil: Hm. Just one more detail.

The deacon plays one single key on the organ twice; immediately the chandelier bursts into flame, the paper and wax nest becoming lit and enveloping the entire metal structure. If one didnt look too closely, it'd look like a fireball was hanging from the ceiling by a chain.

Virgil: There we are. Better.

The deacon moves forward, seating themselves at the seat furthest from the door of the church.

Virgil: -Pulling off their lapel watch.- And now. . .we wait.

The boy02/27/2020

Able is walking down towards the church with the bandaged man. The conversation was incredibly proper. Enough so that he made a quick walk to the entrance of the church, opening the door for the bandaged man.

Able: Ah, here.

Able seemed a little off put by the bandaged man still, but he did like seeing him more polite. It was still confusing though.

they02/27/2020

The Bandaged: Oh, you didn't need to do that. . .ah, but thank you.

The bandaged man walks past Able, but immediately stops as soon as they pass the doorway (partially blocking it) as they look around.

The Bandaged: Oh. . .oh wow. Able, you said this was a church? It looks like a cathedral. . .why, it looks beautiful. . . Virgil: -Waving politely.- Good evening. The Bandaged: -Still slightly star-struck.- Ah? . .oh, good evening! Er. . .do I know you? You look a little familiar. . .I think. Forgive me, er. . ? Virgil: You can just call me the deacon. Now, sit, please. The Bandaged: Oh. Alright. . .er, Able, come inside; its really warm in here!

The boy02/27/2020

Able guides the bandaged man towards the pews.

Able: Yes, it's very nice isn't it?

Able, previously dressed in a sweater, takes it off, leaving a new dress shirt underneath, and holds the sweater. He is still cold, but the heat would catch up to him soon. Able makes his way to the seating and settles into it, sighing.

Able: Thomas should be here soon too. I suspect we wont have to wait long... How've you been? Sermons still as lively as ever?

they02/27/2020

The deacon sits back in their chair.

Virgil: Not as much, recently; as it turns out, despite the fact that this church is heated, no one wants to spend a tiny amount of time walking down the street in brisk weather.

The bandaged man seems distracted, moving closer to Able and whispering to them as they look around.

The Bandaged: -Whisper-yelling.- Able, look! Look, do you see that? . .I think the walls are moving! Look, see?

The bandaged man starts walking around, enamored.

The Bandaged: -Moving to a nearby pillar; leaning in really close.- There's a pattern to those movements, I just know it. . .they look motivated. . .

The boy02/27/2020

Able: You'd think more people would love to take advantage of the heat..

Able looks over at the bandaged, nodding.

Able: Yes, they'll do that.. Hm..

Able turns to the deacon.

Able: Every year?

they02/27/2020

The deacon sits back in their chair.

Virgil: Apart from a few rare incidents, yes. The cold bothers him, but, so long as it snows, he acts like an entirely new person. The Bandaged: -Turning from the pillar.- Hm? Snow? Ah! The snow!

The bandaged man walks around, seating themselves across from Able; they lower their voice, a familiar manic energy (yet foreign in its deliver) entering their voice as they gesture low near the ground.

The Bandaged: -Low; almost conspiratorially.- I've been inspecting this snow under a small magnifying glass. . .I think. . .I don't think that it's snow at all. . .least, it's not just water. . .there's something strange about it, and that strangeness means more needs to understood. . . Virgil: -Noncommittally.- Mh. I see..

The boy02/27/2020

Able: He seems a bit more manageable at least..

Able smiles a bit at the bandaged. His enthusiasm almost endearing to Able like this as opposed to his usual shouting. The church door opens, and Thomas can be seen holding it open, looking outside.

Thomas: Ah, here we are dear, it should be much nicer in here mh?

they02/27/2020

Behind Thomas, a slightly misshapen mass walks in; Pearl, her face slightly droopy on one side and her face colored a slightly sickly green. While her body has returned to human-size, she looks a little softer, her flesh a little tender and raw, and her upper body seems a little askew from her lower body. However, she seems happy(?), though she's cautiously looking about with crooked eyes as she slowly edges her way into the church. She's dressed in a lumpy, doughy dress made of black veils, which serves to help hide the collapsed cavities of her body. The deacon sits in their chair, giving a small, polite wave to Thomas and Pearl.

Virgil: Good evening. Pearl: -Panicked.- BLblrooo!!

Pearl edges behind Thomas, gripping his shoulders and flashing a sickly yellow-orange color.

The boy02/27/2020

Thomas moves to wrap an arm around Pearl, pushing her forward a bit as he walks into the church.

Thomas: Don't worry hon, he's got no interest in you. Come now, look at all the art on the walls, hm?

Thomas is walking Pearl along down the church, pointing things out to try and distract her. Thomas makes a polite wave to the deacon and Able, and seems to not even notice the bandaged man.

they02/27/2020

The bandaged man is deep in conversation with Able, apparently so grossly engaged that he doesn't notice Thomas wandering in at first.

The Bandaged: I found something strange about it. . .it freezes entirely black, if you melt it and then leave it out again. . .do you know, I've thought about drinking it, but. . .it seems too dangerous to do that. Ah, but I feel so bad testing on a rat, or something. . .it feels wrong? Especially since they can talk. . .hm?

The bandaged man tilts their gaze towards Thomas and Pearl, and gasps, sitting back in their chair.

The Bandaged: -Lifting their hat briefly.- Oh, goodness, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there! . .er, hello! How're you this evening?

Pearl stares at the bandaged man, piqued by their new mannerisms, cleaner outfit, and more friendly appearance.

The boy02/27/2020

Able looks a little bit more tolerant of the bandaged man's ramblings, merely nodding and looking at him. Able looks up at Thomas, who suddenly steps back in shock, before he moves to quickly sit close to Able.

Thomas: -whispering harshly to Able- What the hell is he on now?

Able tilts his head, just smiling.

Able: What ever do you mean? Thomas: -Pointing at the bandaged-You know exactly what I mean. Able: Maybe go ask him?

Able is grinning, clearly amused by Thomas's reaction. Thomas sighs, looking over at the bandaged man.

Thomas: Ah, hello. How have you been. Are you ill?

they02/27/2020

The bandaged man pauses.

The Bandaged: I'm. . .I'm perfectly fine, I think. . .why is everyone asking that?

The bandaged man looks at their hands, tucking a bandage out of the way to inspect their palm.

The Bandaged: Do I look sickly? . .I don't feel ill, that's the problem. . .

The deacon moves a fist to their mouth, coughing while their other hand clutches their rosary. Their gaze shifts, focusing on Pearl for the moment. Pearl, in the meantime, is staring curiously at the bandaged man, tilting their head as their body resumes a familiar green pallor; they slowly slither over, seating themselves besides Thomas.

.

The boy02/27/2020

Thomas: You are acting like a shy young lady! You are dressed reasonably and yet you say you aren't ill??

Able snickers to himself while Thomas throws his hands up.

Able: -laughing a bit- Aye, regardless we should make a plan for the dinner, hm? Thomas: -Incredulous- How can you talk about dinner when he's like..... well that???

they02/27/2020

The deacon turns their gaze further to the right, staring at a pillar as they clutch their rosary a tad tighter and quietly breathe past an enclosed fist. The bandaged man holds their hat to their chest, their eyebrows furrowed; they seem mildly insulted, their mouth pulled to the side in a suspicious grimace.

The Bandaged: -Squinting.- You say that as if acting like a shy young lady is shameful. Is that what you're suggesting, mister. . .er. . .

The bandaged man goes blank-faced, coughing.

The Bandaged: -Nonplussed.- . . .er, you. . .well, you look like someone I know, but. . .oh dear. Forgive me, but I believe I've forgotten your name. Not to say that you aren't memorable! Merely that I'm forgetful. . .er, what is your name?

The boy02/27/2020

Thomas: Dear you wouldn't be the first man inside me to forget my name, but now I'm even more concerned. Are you sure you're not dying?

Able laughs loudly, unable to keep himself quiet any longer. Thomas shoots him a very angry glare.

Thomas: What?! What is so funny about this?

February 28, 2020

they02/28/2020

The Bandaged: What? Er, why're you laughing?

The bandaged man swipes at the top of their head, moving to rub their cheeks.

The Bandaged: Is there something on my head? . .on my face? . .in my gums? Pearl: Hnnk! Hnnk!

Pearl is honking, leaning against Thomas's shoulder and covering her inflating and deflating face with a piece of as she gestures a scarred tentacle between the bandaged man and Thomas. She's slumped over a bit, her face drooping a bit, but she seems to be energetic despite this. The bandaged man shifts their gaze, apparently noticing Pearl for the first time.

The Bandaged: Is. . .oh! You have the face of a squid!

Pearl stops honking, moving to slither in the space between Thomas and the seat. The bandaged man, meanwhile, holds a hand to their face, rubbing their cheek for a moment.

The Bandaged: -In awe; to themselves.- Squid people here? . .that's so interesting. How do they stand outside of the water. . .that's fascinating. You're fascinating. . .oh! The Bandaged: -Hurried; concerned.- N-not like an exhibit, but as a young lady, I mean! You're very well dressed, and. . .well, you seem so interesting, how could someone not want to be around you? And you can change color? You could be walking as living art! That sort of thing is popular where I came from!

Pearl perks up, shifting back into view as the bandaged man continues backpedaling and enthusing about Pearl's face; while she still seems cautious, her flesh is relaxed and smooth in the light, and she seems to burble in response to the bandaged man. The deacon lets out a small cough, letting go of their crooked cross and facing the group again, their voice initially strained.

Virgil: -Strained.- Alright, enough chatter. Virgil: -Clearing their throat.- Mh. I believe you were all invited here to discuss what food ought to be prepared at the dinner later in life.

The boy02/28/2020

Able: Yes, we do need to decide these things before hand.

Able leans into Thomas, whispering something.

Thomas: Oh.

Thomas blinks.

Thomas: Really now? Well..

Thomas straightens his posture, sighing.

Thomas: Well that's settled. I think that I can provide some surface goods to help it get prepared, otherwise I'm not terribly picky. I think I can gather some potatoes for dear Able though..

Thomas nudges Able, who laughs a bit.

Able: Potatoes would be a nice change of pace. I think I can make a dough out of the starch too.. Hmmm. I would like there to at least be some sort of roast, it tends to be a crowd pleaser. Thomas: A roast of what dear? It would have to be something not out of your budget. Able: Horse? I can afford horse, I think. What about you all, any ideas?

they02/28/2020

The deacon ponders, raising a finger for a moment.

Virgil: Well, London cuisine is all fine and good, but. . .since this is going to be a traditional dinner, and I'm socially implored to say that it is, in fact, not a dinner celebrating Christmas. . .I'd like to have a dinner that emulates the cuisine of early Bethlehem. Not strictly accurate, of course, but we can made do. Virgil: -To Thomas.- I'd be willing to pay for a shipment of barley for bread . . .chickpeas for pottage. . .dates and figs, if you can manage it. . .a turnip, or a muskmelon if possible. . .olives are essential. . .and goat. Do you think you could get all of that, before the end of the month?

The bandaged man doesn't seem to be paying much attention, still backpedaling in a cold sweat with Pearl.

The Bandaged: -Apologetic.- After all, you're a very nice young lady. . .you seem very nice to know, and I'm sure that- Pearl: -To Able.- Throothhhl. The Bandaged: -Caught off guard.- Fish?

Pearl nods her head, the bulb of her head flopping wetly a bit as she looks at Able, her seated stance swaying slightly as she does so. The bandaged man looks comically caught off guard, rubbing their temples in vexation.

The Bandaged: -Nonplussed.- I don't. . .fish? I don't understand. . .oh!

The bandaged man looks around, holding their hat to their chest again and grinning a sheepish smile.

The Bandaged: . . .did I not pay attention again? What're we talking about again right now? Is it food?.

The boy02/28/2020

Thomas pulls out a small notebook, and starts writing these things down. He nods as he listens to the deacon.

Thomas: Yes, yes, I will have to bring the goat live, lest the meat spoil.

Able looks at Pearl and then the bandaged man.

Able: Fish? What kind? I can make plenty of dishes with fish.

Thomas looks up at the bandaged man.

Thomas: We're hosting a dinner. Have we decided a location? I assume it will merely be us, I don't fancy having another party debacle.

they02/28/2020

The Deacon: -To Thomas.- I'd argue that a dinner here would be best, if it's only us; privacy can be guaranteed, here, as opposed to a rented hall room. Especially considering the company we have here. . .a devil. . .a person of vague importance. . .a thief. . .a vendor of goods that haven't quite passed inspections. . .someone would talk, and while nothing uncouth would be happening, I'd rather not risk it.

The bandaged man seems to ignore the last of Thomas's comment, focusing instead on their first.

The Bandaged: -To Thomas.- Oh! You deal in shipments? You can. . .you can order things from across seas? . .can. . .is it possible for you to get haw flakes? It's from a lovely Asian country, it's. . .a mashed paste of berries, left to dry and. . .rolled into a stack. . . Pearl: -To Able.- Thhoorthll. . ?

The bandaged man pauses, their eyebrows furrowed.

The Bandaged: -To Pearl.- . . .l-live fish? S-strange. . .oh! I won't judge, though! Er, it's not the first I've heard of it! Did you know, there's a lovely place in the Oriental where they consume fish raw! It's true! Freshly cut, and sliced into pieces!

The boy02/28/2020

Thomas looks up, putting away his book.

Thomas: Yes, I'll put it in with your regular monthly shipment. I'll see about getting your items.

Thomas nods to the deacon.

Thomas: As long as you keep the heat reasonable I think that would be just fine. Oh! Speaking of.

Thomas pulls out a small wrapped box from his bag, handing it over to Pearl.

Thomas: Before I forget. This is for you dear.

Able huffs a bit.

Able: I suppose that is fine, I can keep it alive. Hmmm... I wonder if onions would be good this time of year...

they02/28/2020

Pearl: Thrrr?

Pearl inspects the box, holding it round for a bit as her tentacles try to grip at the paper.

Pearl: -Spluttering quietly.- . . .tthhh. . .

She's not having an easy time at it; her tentacles are wet, and their slickness means she's having a bit of an issue gripping at the paper. There's a slight hint of red and orange at the very top of her bulbous head as she works at it. Meanwhile, the bandaged man seems agitated.

The Bandaged: Oh! Oh, I was. . .was I supposed to bring a gift? Oh, goodness, erm. . .oh dear, oh dear. . .

The bandaged man is rifling through their pockets, their face distressed. Meanwhile, Pearl has managed to undo a flap of paper, honking triumphantly as she does so. Slowly, she tosses the crumpled paper aside. . .

Pearl: Thhrroo! . .

. . .before picking the paper back up, folding it into a neat square as her head droops apologetically. Afterwards, however, her tentacles wring one another before she moves forward and, gently, she opens the box, almost stuffing her face into the opening to see what's inside.

Pearl: Thrrr?.

The boy02/28/2020

Inside the box is a well knitted, many armed sweater. It has tones of green on the top half, embroidered with gold colored flowers around the cuffs and neck, little pink beads stitched into it. The bottom was a blue tone with green leaves embroidered into it. The center of the sweater was patterned with a red and gold rose on the front. It seemed to be not only knitted, but the inside was lined with a thick fabric to give it a bit more weight.

Thomas: So? Does it fit? I tried to make sure that it was perfectly suited only for you.

Thomas smiles.

they02/28/2020

Pearl pauses, reaching inside to pick up the sweater. They're holding it up, their head inflating and deflating as they chirp quietly, their movements becoming more erratic as they hold it up against themselves.

Pearl: -Between cycles of deflation.- . . .thhh. . .thhoooo. . .thrathhhooooooo. . .

They're holding it up against themselves, spreading their tentacles to see how many arms the sweater has.

Pearl: -Chirping quietly.- T-thhhhhhrathhhooooooooo. . .

They bundle the sweater up, holding it close and pushing their face into it, crumpling up in the seat they're seated in as their face tentacles swipe at their scarred face, folding up and compressing tightly around the sweater in a strange many-armed hug of sorts. They look almost folded up into themselves, the quivering bulb of their head pushing into Thomas's side gently. Half of their tendrils are trying to push the bundled sweater against Thomas, while half try to pull it tighter towards themselves.

Pearl: -Pushing into Thomas's side.- Thhhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. . .thhrrathooooooooooooooo. . .

Meanwhile, the bandaged man is muttering to themselves, their tone distraught as they rifle through their pockets.

The Bandaged: -Quietly.- Oh god, I didn't bring a gift. . .I'm going to be a laughingstock. . .I don't have anything?.

The boy02/28/2020

Thomas pulls Pearl into a hug, sighing.

Thomas: Really now, you deserve some nice things..

Able looks over at them before moving to sit next to the bandaged man. He pats him on the back.

Able: Oy, you doing alright over here? You look like you're going to pass out.

they02/28/2020

Pearl pushes their head into Thomas's stomach, honking quietly and wetly as they hold the sweater tightly against themselves; their head is inflating massively and deflating with a wet squelch, as if she was breathing in and out rapidly.

Pearl: Thrrrtthhooooooooooooooo. . .

The bandaged man yelps, startled by Able patting them.

The Bandaged: Ack! What! No, I didn't forget to bring a gift! Lord, I wish I knew to bring something, though. . .

The boy02/28/2020

Thomas is gently rubbing her back, seemingly very happy that she seems enthused. Or sad... or happy sad? He wasn't sure. It seemed very positive though.

Thomas: Mm, are you going to put it on or just cry into it, hon?

Able looks confused for a bit, then laughs.

Able: Gifts..? Oh! No, no this is just a small thing between those two, you needn't worry.

they02/28/2020

Pearl sits up suddenly, slipping easily out of Thomas's hug. They chirp loudly, lifting the sweater over themselves. . .

Pearl: -Energetic.- Rrthh! Thrrrhhh!

. . .and pulling it over the frumpy veiled dress she has on. She's pulling it along, the sleeves filling with multiple tendrils as she tucks it over herself, holding every arm sleeve out. She stands up, turning towards Thomas as her body quivers quietly.

Pearl: Thratthooo, oootharooth?

The bandaged man looks at Able, their eyebrows furrowed.

The Bandaged: Goodness, are you sure? Oh, but you deserve a gift too. . .I didn't bring anything, though. . .

The deacon is shifting their gaze so they're looking a bit off to the side; though their expression is shaded by their sunglasses, the slight creasing of their eyebrows shows (to Able, at least) a gentle expression of amusement.

The boy02/28/2020

Thomas grins. It fit perfectly, and he was so happy to see this.

Thomas: Oh! Look at you! You will surely be the envy of all. You look so wonderful dear.

Thomas gestures towards Pearl, still in the habit of trying to vaguely explain his words with his hands. Able smiles a bit.

Able: Well if it's anything like what I had to do to get Thomas his money then I think I'll pass. I'm just glad you aren't drinking.

Able glances over at the deacon. Well at least he seemed to be enjoying the conversation, though not participating enough for Able's liking.

Able: Are the walls really that interesting, deacon?

they02/28/2020

The deacon breathes through their nose, releasing the grip they have on their rosary. A small smile is present on the corner on their lips as they speak.

Virgil: Yes, well. . .regardless of cricumstance, they are interesting. The brass was imported from the Iron Republic, and cold wrought in Hell. . .which is a mighty feat, considering the temperature.

The bandaged man continues rifling through their pockets, wincing through their teeth.

The Bandaged: No, it's rude to come without a gift. . .I think I have something. . .ah!

The bandaged man pulls out a small diamond that rests comfortably in the palm. It's a slightly skewed cut, not quite flawed but not quite fit for professional sale either.

The Bandaged: -Shoving the diamond into Able's hand.- Uh. . here! Is that good enough for a gift? Is that alright?

The boy02/28/2020

Able: They certainly have their charm, though I-

Able looks over at the bandaged. He looks at the gem that was pressed into his hands, ah this is..

Able: Oh. Well..

Able gets a little flush.

Able: Ah.. Thank you?

Able fiddles with the gem a bit before pocketing it. He would likely drop it into donations later, but it was nice.

they02/28/2020

Pearl is hugging themselves in their sweater, folded up in a standing position as if they've wilted; their head has slithered into the sweater's neck, with only two eyes poking out through the neck hole.

Pearl: Thhhhrooorrrrrrr. . .

Pearl moves forward, their head still scrunched in the neck hole; she wraps up Thomas into a hug, chirping happily and lifting him up off the ground a fair bit, with several clothed arms wrapping around him as they do so.

Pearl: Thhhrrooooooooooo. . . Virgil: I'd like to remind you that the chandelier above you hangs rather low, and I'd possibly hate for Thomas to end up on fire. The Bandaged: -To Able.- Ah, is it good? . .i-is it too impersonal? I know that gifting money is not quite special, and a gem is. . .close enough to money, I'd guess. . .

[

10:29 PM

]

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

they02/28/2020

High above the Bazaar, the bandaged man works. The Spite has been tidied up quite a bit; instead of the mess of random objects on the floor, there's some semblance of order. Empty bottles of wine, laudanum, and honey are placed near the open window (which is now covered with a tarp), the jade-cornered desk has been placed in the center of the room, and even the floor has been swept and tidied. On the desk, there is a strange arrangement of magnifying lenses rigged up to a large, vertical arrangement. It's like a telescope, pointed straight down onto the table. Underneath, there's a small glass plate with a small pile of snow put on it. At the top of the rig, the bandaged man is peering down the arrangement of lenses at the snow at the top of a tall ladder, muttering quietly to themselves.

The Bandaged: -Quietly.- . . .there's something. . .there's something inside of it. . .it's not crystalline, but it acts like a crystal lattice. . . Charlemagne: AGAIN?

A curled hat is seated on a proper hat and coat stand placed near the open window, its eyes staring up at the bandaged man.

Charlemagne: HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING TO TRY AT THIS? The Bandaged: -Distracted; waving at Charlemagne.- Uh-huh. . .I guess I'm just a determined researcher. . .let's see. . .

The boy02/28/2020

Able was already quickly up the spire. It felt a little odd to be back so soon, but he did want to check and make sure the bandaged was doing alright. He knocks on the side of the window before climbing in.

Able: Evening'. You got time to settle down for some food?

Able holds a small bag in his hands. He'd packed a couple things of pastries he'd made, but knew wouldn't be able to finish before they went bad.

they02/28/2020

The bandaged man looks up from the telescope arrangement, surprised by Able.

The Bandaged: Oh! . .you walked up this entire way just to. . .just to give me a food? The Bandaged: -Walking down the ladder.- Oh goodness, you could've sent a calling card for me. . .that's a lot of stairs. . .I got winded walking up, what about you. . ?

The boy02/28/2020

Able: The key is to take breaks every half hour.

Able moves to the bottom of the ladder. Amused he was using one, but wasn't going to say anything.

Able: Here, I figure you've been hold up and distracted enough to forget to eat. I got some meat pies and a small thing of biscuits for you.

they02/28/2020

The bandaged gets to the bottom of the ladder, moving to open the bag.

The Bandaged: Oh, pastries this time of year is especially nice. . .it's warming and good for the soul. . .oh!

The bandaged man sets the food aside onto the table, walking to the gas valve in the corner.

The Bandaged: Oh, oh dear, I need to give you something in return. . .

The boy02/28/2020

Able: N... No really. It's no trouble, these are just leftovers from yesterday. I made too much and you seemed interested last time I made pastries.

Able laughs a bit nervously.

***

they02/28/2020

The Bandaged: Nonsense, nonsense. . .I was raised to give a gift back tenfold if I was given one. . .camaraderie and all. . .

The bandaged man turns the valve, opening the shutter in the center of the room (just at the foot of the desk).

The Bandaged: I have a good year of. . .wait, you don't drink. . .er, I'm sure I have something! Maybe something for your pets. . .

The bandaged man walks to the center of the room, heading down the stairs.

The Bandaged: -Slowly becoming more distant.- Do make yourself comfortable! I'll be back in a moment!

The boy02/28/2020

Able sighs. He moves to sit at the bandaged man's desk.

Able: He is a little bit too much like this too, but at least more pleasant. He seems happy at least.

Able leans back. He hopes he can keep this up. Able smiles a bit.

they02/28/2020

Charlemagne: YOU DON'T SEEM TO ENJOY IT.

The hat curls on the hat stand, settling down politely.

Charlemagne: DON'T WORRY, IT'LL PASS.

The boy02/28/2020

Able: What? No, it's very nice.. Hm..

Able glares up at the hat, annoyed.

Able: What do you mean pass? Are you so sure about that? What if he were to find something else interesting?

they02/28/2020

The hat scoffs, lifting its brim a bit.

Charlemagne: I'VE BEEN HERE FOR TWENTY YEARS. TWENTY LONG YEARS OF SITTING IN AN UNRESPECTABLE SLUM. I AM NOT A FOOL.

The hat shifts itself around, turning around to face away from Able.

Charlemagne: THIS HAPPENS EVERY YEAR. IT SNOWS. HE STUDIES. HE DOESN'T FIGURE IT OUT. HE DRINKS.

Charlemagne: HE'LL BE RESPECTABLE TIL' NEXT WEEK. POSSIBLY THE WEEK AFTER.

The boy02/28/2020

Able: Sounds like you're gearing to get thrown out the window and snatched up by a crow.

Able points at Charlemagne. He was miffed now, that hat didn't typically lie, but it still made him miffed. Even if it was the truth, Able didn't like it.

they02/28/2020

Charlemagne: THAT'D BE THE BEST OUTCOME. I'M NOT LOOKING FORWARD TO ENDING UP COVERED IN MELTED SNOW LIKE LAST TIME.

The stairs downstairs creak; the bandaged man is heading up, holding several metal jars packed full of fish swimming inside.

The Bandaged: -Stumbling a bit.- I found- ow. . .I found some fish! Weasels eat. . .they eat meat, right? Do they. . .do they like fish?

The bandaged man offers the jar packed full of fish to Able, holding their hands together.

The Bandaged: Is that fine. . ?

The boy02/28/2020

Able blinks, taking the jar, setting it aside.

Able: Ah.. This is just fine thank you. Ah...

Able looks off to the side a bit. If it was merely temporary should he take the opportunity? Or was that wrong? Able could give the weasels fish as a treat, though it seemed a bad idea to give them so much.

Able: Hmm..

Able stands, bringing his hands up to the bandaged man's face, holding it, his brows furrowing. This was a little troublesome. There had to be something he could do? He wasn't sure what, but he felt odd not doing anything. This was the outcome he wanted, a sober bandaged... But how to keep it that way.

they02/28/2020

The bandaged man pauses, their face scrunched in Able's grip.

The Bandaged: -Muffled.- Erm. . .do I have something on my face again. . ?

The boy02/29/2020

Able: Hm? No. No you look fine. Try to stay out of the wines though, hm? It's no good for a teacher to be so inebriated.

Able sighs, pulling his hands away.

they02/29/2020

The Bandaged: Er, I'll. . .make note of. . .oh! Oh, you reminded me!

The bandaged man rushes over to the desk, pulling open a drawer.

The Bandaged: -Waving a letter in the air.- I got hired to work at the University! I've always wanted to be a professor, and now I am one now!

The boy02/29/2020

Able: You... Weren't you one before?

Able tilts his head, smiling a bit.

they02/29/2020

The Bandaged: Hm? Oh, I. . .

The bandaged man pauses, lowering their hand for the moment.

The Bandaged: -Quietly.- . . .r-right, I. . .I was a professor there. . .once. . .doesn't that. . .doesn't that usually take a long time. . ?

The bandaged man shakes their head, knocking their glasses askew.

The Bandaged: -Shaking it off.- E-er. . .well. . .they needed a new professor at their Correspondence hall! Apparently, they needed a new professor after the last one disappeared. . .really, she left her students? . .shameful. . .

The boy02/29/2020

Able jumps a bit, backing up. Oh right. That. Her.

Able: Oh. Oh.

Able backs up, looking away from the bandaged.

Able: Erm.. I need to... get home. It takes me quite a while uh...

Able quickly turns around, forgetting the jar, and starts walking towards the window.

they02/29/2020

The bandaged man pauses, picking up the jar and walking towards Able.

The Bandaged: Wait! You're forgetting your gift!

The boy02/29/2020

Able stops, turning slowly towards the bandaged man.

Able: Ah.. right... uh... thank you..

Able takes the jar and starts heading back out, climbing through the window.

Able: I really must go.. and... I hope you have a good evening..

Able quickly leaves, heading down the stairs. A bad time to remember.

they02/29/2020

The bandaged man pauses, before leaning out the window and yelling down at Able.

The Bandaged: Uh. . .have a good evening! Get home safely!

The boy02/29/2020