mayfield_logs | true frans don't need permission to break into each other's places!! ...wait

Entry tags:

true frans don't need permission to break into each other's places!! ...wait

Who: Ciel and Charles
What: Charles~~' house looked weird from her stalking angle for a while now so Ciel just decided to go ahead and break in~~ gets a surprise housecall that he wasn't supposed to know about!! Shenanigans ensue, alas.
Where: 767 Bunker Street
When: Oct. 19th, ridiculous hour in the morning like at 2AM
Warnings: Possible spoilers for Tsukihime/Blood+, also casual talk of gore... will update this as needed!

[Not that Charles has been acting particularly suspicious of late, no. If anything, Ciel can honestly say that the babby bat's temperament has been improving. She'd know, with how much time she spends around the Chiropteran even if they're not remotely close in living together... How did this even happen.

BUT! What's essential is that for a while now, he seems to act... not quite as he used to, back at his place. NOT that Ciel actually keeps an active watch all the time to his house, but woman's intuition + her inherent passive perception ~~+ predisposed mama henbear instinct~~ + legit stalking has tipped her off to something unusual. ...Which coincides with around the time when Charles confirmed to her that he's traded Horace back at the post office, come to think of it!! He never DID tell her what he received in return, though there has been another few rounds of regains distributed since also, if she recalls correctly.

Either way, it's been something at the back of her mind for a while now, even if she's never given any serious thought to act upon the desire to investigate... Until now, apparently, when she just so happens to pass by during her usual patrol at ungodly hours. Ciel's no amateur at this, specializing in stealth and well deserving of her true profession and title of 'agent', so even if there are non-drone members within the household, she ought to be quiet and discreet enough to slip in by a window completely unnoticed. This theoretically shouldn't take long, she's just wondering if there's anything noteworthy in the house! That means checking the basement would be top priority, buuut she should be able to afford a side trip or two in the living room/study... Charles is out now, probably for his usual midnight stroll, so it should be fine, no worries!~

...Except when have things ever gone to plan, huh. Time is definitely going to end up passing faster than she'd expected, after coming across a certain discovery that she definitely couldn't have guessed. Now when is Charles coming home, she might just need to ask him about this in person, even if she has initially planned for him to NOT find out about her impromptu break-in...]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[it isn't self-preservation that has his arm lifting. it isn't about pain, either-- the priest's tolerance is rather high, despite his often complaints to the contrary. none-the-less, his hand is lifting and coming to grasp Charles' wrist, but he doesn't make any further moves beyond that. his fingers are tightening, but... the gesture is just as plaintive and imploring as the look in his eyes still on those of the Chiropteran.

he won't hurt him... not even in self defense. if Charles wanted to break every bone in his body, there was a sincere chance that Abel would simply sit there and let him. it was because he understood that there is a lesson here to be learned that only experience could teach, even if it broke his heart for that to be the case. if he could impart that lesson in words -- he absolutely would.

but sometimes it took hurting those around you and feeling the emptiness of the pain it caused to realize it wasn't what you wanted, needed, at all. to fall down low, fester in pain and loneliness, to be picked up by someone else, to realize that relying on another might not be so bad. that some people -can- be trusted. that the world is not such a terrible place, after all... if you don't make it your enemy.]

...The only enemy you're making is yourself.

[he can try fighting it all, but in the end, all this boy is doing is destroying pieces of himself. it might even be some masochism that drives him-- Lord knows that is a familiar prospect. but...

...Charles. is this what it will take to open your eyes? trying to break everything, and having people still there for you even if you succeed? having people there, unconditionally, despite tantrums and arrogance and outrage?

Abel isn't going anywhere, regardless.]

I'm still-- your friend. Please don't do this to yourself.

[his lip curls into an immediate expression of disgust and, while it is reactionary to some degree, there's also genuine displeasure there. rather than soothing his unease and aggravation, the lack of reaction - rather, the lack of a reaction he's looking for - only fuels it.]

With all of the flowery, delicate sermons in you, it's no wonder you wound up a priest. [but his expression clearly says he's not interested in hearing anything of the sort right now (if ever). it successfully manages to clear the malevolent smile from his face for the time being, for what good that does. what might be more surprising is the fact that he lets his harsh grip loosen, bringing up his free hand to delicately remove Abel's from his wrist.]

Can't you do anything right? If you can't give me what I'm looking for, I'll need to go elsewhere, and I don't wish to go outside again today.

[...he feels the loosening of that tension at his shoulder with a surge of hopeful relief -- perhaps he's reached him? at least in some part...

Abel watches him, letting his hand fall as it's removed from Charles' wrist. but those words are... less encouraging. the priest gently shakes his head.]

There's no need for that... I already agreed to help you, didn't I?

[and he certainly isn't allowing Charles to potentially hurt anyone else if that's his intent...]

[POOR ABEL he's doomed to be disappointed. as soon as his wrist is freed, he neatly tucks both hands behind his back again and steps away; just enough to give back a little of the breathing room he encroached on, not quite enough to be out of arm's reach.]

Your agreement isn't good for very much. There's no point if there's no reaction, yes? If I wanted that, I could just find myself a drone. [which he looks like he's seriously considering, for a brief second.]

[he takes this breadth of space to exhale something of a silent sigh; whether it's relieved or something more like exhausted (YOU'RE EXHAUSTING CHARLES... EXHAUSTING) is left up to interpretation. regardless... in the next few beats, the priest is gathering himself upright with only mild effort, rubbing at his chest sullenly. (ow.)

he doesn't turn eyes away from the Chiropteran, however... giving Charles his full attention.]

You've gotten a reaction. It simply... wasn't the one you were hoping after, right?

[there's a small smile, but it's apologetic if anything. he is sorry his friend is suffering... and wishes he knew why to try to help. what mess had Ciel gotten him into? she would be much better at this than he was...]

But that reaction isn't what you really wanted, and you know that. And if that's the case, then...

[...then he needs something else entirely. something no matter of violence can give him.]

[HE IS EXHAUSTING and he doesn't plan on getting any less exhausting just because Abel thinks he's being talked down from the precipice of crazy mountain!!]

I've already told you what kind of reaction I want. [which is clearly not the reaction he's going to get! granted, he's not entirely through giving it a try anyway. testing limits is kind of a thing he does, more so when he's in a frame of mind like this. he stretches his arms over his head before swinging them in front of himself again. fingers laced, arms held out; he looks disinterested on a whole in both Abel and what Abel has to say. it's definitely a stark contrast compared to the expression he had been wearing just moments ago.]

I won't repeat myself. If you can't lend a proper hand, I'll find someone who can.

You know I can't let you do that...

[he isn't any more unnerved by his disinterest than he was his interest, in all honesty -- but he is unnerved by the threat of taking this matter to innocent people beyond the house... or perhaps within it. Charles already knows Abel doesn't condone the harm of so much as drones, nevermind the general Mayfieldian cognizant citizen.]

It isn't too late for bedtime stories and getting tucked in, you know...! I would much rather that sort of thing to this, Charles. Wouldn't you?

[as much as Charles IS exhausting

one can only imagine how exhausting BEING Charles can be. surely he's tired and cranky and just needs a nap amirite...]

[well he's starting to see one way he could get a definite reaction out of Abel.....]

Not particularly. As I said, I can't sleep, so there isn't any point in playing pretend. [his nose scrunches momentarily, and he glances toward his door. being Charles is totally exhausting okay, but he hasn't exhausted himself enough yet and is still running on tightly wound tension and the strong remnants of adrenaline.]

...Another game, then. How does playing something else sound to you?

[Abel was sincerely hoping Charles wouldn't come to that conclusion.

as in hoping reeeeeaaally, really hard.

alas... luck has never been one of his strong suits. his miserable karma seems to be catching up with him again... and the Chiropteran might finally be getting something closer to the reaction he had been hoping for, because the priest... like a fool, falls right for the bait.

mostly because he believes the threat isn't truly an idle one. he believes Charles is unstable enough to hurt an innocent bystander in an effort to see his goal achieved.

he raises his hands, slowly... in a gesture of something placating.]

Ah, I-- I don't feel much in the mood for games, anymore... But-- how about some tea--? I regained some from home, actually-- Sister Kate makes the most delicious mixed brews you're ever likely to taste, so--

[so don't even let that thought go much further, okay, Charles? Abel is taking a small step toward him, as if anticipating the boy's move toward the door he's just cast a glance at.]

[that much is good for Abel to assume, since he doesn't have many qualms with injury innocent bystanders even on his good days. but it does give him the idea that he's heading in the right direction. he's dealt with people like Abel before, after all. one in particular, who sat around crying and moping until he, you know... threatened to murder her family and then kidnapped her adopted brother. but hey, that got a reaction! and a reaction is what he's after. if he has to tear up a few drones to get that here, so be it.

the placating gesture is met with a deceptively genuine look of curiosity, and he takes a few lazy steps toward the door, like he's in no actual rush to leave.]

Why not? I thought you said you would lend aid where you could. Is this something that you can't help, then? Ah, but now that you mention it, I am parched. [feeling the conversation out again, testing the waters a second time...]

[...damnit Charles DAMNIT CHARLES DAMNIT CHARLES

he'll find that wrist of his captured again as he takes that first step toward the door. where Abel's grip had been light and plaintive before, it's strong and forceful now. he is holding him in place with no intention of letting him go-- seeing the gears turning in his head.]

--And that's something I've helped you with before, isn't it?

[which isn't a lie. using the excuse of 'thirst' won't work as an excuse, even if Abel believed he was sincere.]

That isn't the point. I know what you're trying to do-- and you know I won't let you. [he absolutely wouldn't let him. harming Abel's person was one thing-- but hurting innocent people? is entirely another.

even so, even if he's firmer, now... his eyes are still relatively soft and imploring. please... stop this. stop before it goes any further than it already has.]

[oh boy, that imploring look sails completely over his head, considering he's too busy throwing a mental victory party over finding a bit of an Achilles heel here. this is definitely much closer to the reaction he had been aiming for, and the smile returns, albeit less manic than it had been before.]

You won't let me what, pray tell? I was talking about the tea, but if it upsets you so, you needn't go through the effort of brewing it. [he raises the hand that's being held to punctuate his point, looking a little too amused by it.]

[Abel's grip on his hand tightens further. perhaps he is imploring, but the priest is absolutely resolute as well-- no one will be hurt. he doesn't care if he has to stop him by force... if Charles forces his hand, then-- he'll do what he has to.

pacifist though he may be, he is also aware this boy is no wilting flower... and to prevent senseless violence, he's willing to indulge in some to protect the innocents.]

I said I wasn't much for games anymore. Please don't play with me, Charles... you need to stop this. It's gone far enough.

[the fingers of his captured hand wiggle playfully in a mockery of a greeting. he then waves it side to side, as if testing the exact movement limitations his wrist currently has.]

I'm not certain what you're trying to say here, to be perfectly honest. We haven't even started any games yet. ["yet" being key there... he takes a step back and, counting on that grip to remain tight, pulls his arm (and hopefully Abel along with it) in the direction he wants to go.]

[Abel takes a step forward when he feels himself being pulled -- trying to pull his weight back and against him to keep himself as stationary as possible. he isn't above using the full of his strength to do so, either -- he doesn't plan to get dragged from the room and toward the more occupied areas of the home, or town.

but Abel's gone quiet with a grimace; any further banter is only feeding Charles' twisted enjoyment of all this, and he won't be a part of it.]

Edited 2012-11-13 04:03 (UTC)

[rude!! without even verbal banter to keep him partially satisfied, his amusement wanes fast. the lack of reply is immediately met with a petulant look as well, and he shakes his head.]

How dull. How absolutely, dreadfully dull. [HEADS UP since he doesn't plan on staying civil any longer than that. before he's even finished saying the second "dull", he's pulling his free hand back and aiming a flat-palmed strike toward Abel's abdomen.]

[god damnit, Charles--

he has two courses of action, and makes his decision quickly. his free hand captures Charles' by the other wrist before palm could meet its mark-- and now he has possession of both. the grimace seems... grim, resigned. whatever he's resolved himself to, he isn't pleased by it at all.

the silence continues, and his grip is steady and firm-- unrelenting. if this is how it has to be, then sobeit.]

[that actually catches him off guard. he hadn't expected any form of resistance from someone who had nearly allowed a bone to be broken just minutes earlier, and the startled expression remains until it becomes a parody of itself; a wide-eyed look of surprise that he doesn't feel any longer, just there for show.]

Better, much better! [now they're getting somewhere. he doesn't stop to ask what that look could mean, instead focusing on pulling one of his hands back with a fair amount of strength just to test how much Abel is willing to use to keep him in place.]

[why do you have to play this game, Charles...? Abel was tired of it before it even began -- but not because it was exhaustive in and of itself. he is tired of watching people suffer, in pain and feeling lost -- groping out into the world while drowning in it. Charles is one of his most previous people in Mayfield... and seeing him this way is terrible for what it means.

resorting to this... was this really what Charles felt he had to do--?

Abel has never truly fought with or even tested the extent of the boy's abilities -- so to feel him pulling this way, he quickly learns more strength will be necessary in response. it seems he's prepared to utilize whatever force is necessary to restrain him as long as there's a danger to Charles or the others in town.]

[it's a good distraction, he thinks. an excellent distraction if he plays his cards right, and things are looking like they'll go in that direction for him any time.]

You don't plan on keeping me here until we've talked things out, do you? [that sounds pretty dull... more so than everything else, which didn't seem very interesting to begin with. at least he doesn't seem keen on attempting to break free just yet after that initial test.]

[Charles why...

a better question is why Abel continues to ask himself why anymore at all, s h e e s h!!!

he doesn't bother to respond; he knows the course this follows depends on his reactions -- and fueling the proverbial fire. the less he gives the Chiropteran to feed off of, the better as far as he's concerned. his grip remains firm, even -- and his look equally so. you can push as much as you like, but... at the end of this -- even you might not like where it ends up.

Abel won't hurt him unless he absolutely has to in the protection of another, but... that isn't his concern. his concern is the lengths the boy will press before it gets to a conclusion -- and what that conclusion will be...]

[the silence is as good an answer to him as any. with even his attempts at casual~~ish~~ questions being met with only silence, he's getting tired of this arrangement quickly.]

Well, then. That's that, isn't it? [it seems they've both made up their minds, one way or another.

he gives one last pull with his right hand, and in the next second, Abel might suddenly find it difficult to keep his hold. his arm expands rapidly until his hand is almost as large as his torso, becoming something that barely resembles the deceptively twiggy and human-looking limb that had just been there in the process. he's mainly using it to shake Abel's grip with no obvious intent to make a strike right off the bat.]

[--ah. the surprise registers on his face instantly in response, and he's trying to adjust his hold on the limb to ensure he doesn't lose him -- because Abel absolutely believes he'll bolt to make good on his threats if given the chance.

he wonders why he's taken off-guard anymore after the things he's seen in this town, but-- even after a year exposed to this, it never fails. he's adjusting his stance to compensate for the shift in his posture, the large size of the claw-hand as well as the sweeping gesture Charles had made making it hard to hold onto. damnit, damnit--]

--What are you doing? What do you think you're going to accomplish?

As of right now, there's not much else to do but get you out of my hair, is there? [at "you", he extends a gnarled finger, now long enough to span the relatively small gap between them. if Abel doesn't lean away the edge of that razor-sharp claw will be resting against his forehead soon; something of a warning in and of itself.]

That's the only accomplishment I'm aiming for.

[lean away is one thing not on the agenda. it's not a stretch to consider this disconcerting, however... and Abel's looking both tense -- though not for fear of injury -- and disappointed as he stares down on Charles critically.]

Then you shouldn't have brought them into this.

['them;' innocent people. drones or otherwise. Charles knew what he was doing when he made that threat, and playing innocent won't serve him now.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject