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

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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...]

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[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.]

[far be it from him to pretend he isn't the villain in most scenarios, this one included. he'd probably bring a body back to dump at Abel's feet out of spite even if he managed to knock him out of commission beforehand.]

But it truly is adorable, you know? How flustered you get over them, I mean. Even the drones! Now that's a laugh. I can't think of a single person I associate with other than Cain who values them. [AND HE MEANS IT think about that for a second captain... and Cain doesn't even value them as living things ABEL THE LONE SHEEP

his touch will remain feather-light for the time being if he isn't moving away then, but with the sharpness of his claws, even feather light is enough to start drawing blood.]

[he wouldn't be the villain if he didn't try his hand at playing the part. Charles your secret woobie heart is ill-suited to true villainy stop it... you're no more acceptable than Abel and he walks around crying about life for a living STAHP

the mockery deepens his grimace, but he refuses to take the bait and get overly emotional, and seems content to ignore whatever blood might well at his skin where that sharp claw is pressed. he's certainly aware of it, however...]

Whether our viewpoints differ on the subject of drones... it doesn't matter, now. As long as you're threatening to involve others in this, then-- I'll be here to meddle in your affairs. Weren't you the one who just said that's exactly what you didn't want...?

[can he rationalize him out of this game of trolling chicken? hopefully... he really doesn't want this to get any worse than it has already.

...not that he'd leave Charles to his business even if he did stop this potentially violent nonsense but details]

[TRUE VILLAINY STARTS WHEN YOU'VE GOT SELFISHNESS AND CRAZY IN THE SAME PERSON too bad he doesn't understand how to harvest that yet, it would save him a lot of trouble!! facades are all he really has right now, even if he's a little more confident in this particular one.]

I don't, that's true. Still... [he trails off in mock-thoughtfulness. if they're going to play trolling chicken while locked in a temporary physical stalemate, he's going to make the best of it.]

Perhaps I should have started off on a different foot. Stuffing you like a pig would be no good, but perhaps you would appreciate a roast as a gift instead. A skull to decorate your mantle, perhaps? A coworker to string from the tree in your front lawn? [remember that time he replicated the head priest's voice perfectly YEP HE'S DOING IT AGAIN... just for that last bit, at least.]

[there's a minute flinch to betray his feelings on the matter -- which, to be honest, couldn't have been hard to determine regardless. hearing the threat mirrored in the priest's voice was no comfort, for sure... geez Charles you're pretty good at this whole

creepy thing...

...Abel is applying more pressure to the hand holding that claw at the wrist-- tightening his hold and attempting to pull it back, a bit. his other hand is doing the same as he takes a step forward, trying to force Charles backwards a step. a demonstration of force, and to prove a point. however much he plans to prostrate and display his strength, he has to be prepared to accept the fact that Abel is willing to up the ante in response. and it won't be to fight him as he would probably desire -- but to stop him, utilizing whatever means are necessary.]

You won't be hurting any of them. [it's unspoken, but... he would have to go through him, first. Charles and Abel are as good as oblivious to the depth of one another's ability -- in the end, Charles might believe Abel is capable of 'dying.' would he push the envelope? mangle him? kill him, to get by? Abel's faith is probably predictable.]

[he'd make a living off of being creepy if there was a profession for that...

but instead of being forced back that step, Charles moves willingly and with a pointed grace, emulating steps a dance partner would take rather than someone an inch away from potentially impaling another person through the head. HEALTHY.]

Those are lovely words, certainly suitable for a priest. I want you to show me how far you're willing to go to make them believable. [WELL now his intentions are spelled out... he pulls the fingers of his grotesque hand away from Abel's head, but it's only to give him a little more room to swing one finger and accompanying claw down in the direction of his shoulder.]

[tch. still playing with him, like this is really just some child's game...

Abel can feel the movement of Charles' hand in warning and his eyes narrow slightly, almost imperceptibly, as he tightens his grip. he's abruptly pushing his weight forward and into the next gesture. he swings his arm with the momentum to shove that clawed hand back and away from his person to avoid injury; any other time, he might have let him beat him bloody for all it would matter to Abel.

but it wouldn't do to let the boy assume he was taking this lightly, or that he would allow him to get through him easily to harm the townsfolk. drone or otherwise.]

You know how far I'd go! Pushing this will get you nowhere!

[there's a brief pause when this second miss occurs, and his hand remains frozen in the air. another surprise, though it's less unexpected than the first. what it does do is successfully hammer home the fact that Abel isn't treating it like the game Charles had initially intended it to be, which he finds hilarious.]

But it is getting me somewhere, isn't it? [right underneath a certain priest's skin... it hadn't been his goal, certainly, but riling someone else up to the point of seeing them genuinely upset is just as therapeutic for him as physically maiming someone can be. in an attempt to free at least one hand, the gnarled and clawed arm will be slipping back to its human size quite rapidly, which he'll couple with a severe jerk towards his own abdomen, trying to break and evade any grasp using his shoulder.]

[hasn't he been telling himself the entirety of their exchange not to feed into it with an emotional response--? yet in the end, it's like he simply can't help himself and it's inevitable he'll be a sucker to his emotions, especially where the safety of others-- and Charles-- is concerned.

the attempt to draw the boy's hand back is successful and Charles remains captive only by the opposite wrist. the priest looks wary, displeased-- with himself and his company. damnit... this is ridiculous! this whole thing is just... ridiculous. he hadn't intended it to get like this at all.]

[watching things spiral into chaos is one of his favorite pastimes!! really, though, things are going even better than he had expected. there aren't many people he knows, either here or in his own world, who are easier to goad with sentiment than threats. still...

he's not going to sit around contemplating it. Abel made a point of showing that he was serious a little earlier, so Charles will return the favor in the form of a swift punch aimed at the arm still holding onto him, just between wrist and elbow. unlike previous teases and jabs, this one has enough strength behind it to shatter bone if it reaches its target.]

[sigh SIGH Charles why would you and Dietrich get along too well?? it's such a good thing none of the Rosenkreutz ever managed to make their way to this humble little town because

god knows what would happen

but it ends in misery for everyone...

this time, Abel was braced for some sort of attack. Charles is fast and deceptively strong despite his small frame-- and Abel understands this. he had always imagined him to be something like a Methuselah in skill and capacity, though had been careful never to judge whether he'd truly amount to being stronger or weaker than the species. there was no way to tell until a situation like this... right? under or overestimating him wouldn't prove very helpful in any case.

the fist is caught within Abel's palm; there's no doubt a normal human's bones would have fractured with the force alone, even if it meant he hadn't hit his intended target. the priest is exerting no small amount of strength in order to attempt to keep his fist enclosed in his own hand, now.]

How long do you plan to keep this up? There's no need for any of it...!

[could that be considered as a rare moment where luck is actually on their side for once?! not that he'd mind the Rosenkreutz but that in and of itself is bad whoops

a third block doesn't trip him up as the first two had, and there's another seamless transition between his human hand and its monstrous chiropteran form. callous, maybe, to try forcing open someone's hand in such an unnecessarily dramatic way when it might be suffering the brunt of a heavy impact, but he won't allow both hands to be immobilized.]

Until I'm satisfied. [which apparently isn't just yet...! he usually prefers to keep both feet planted firmly on the ground since it lends itself to a more elegant fighting style, but if Abel's going to continue limiting the movement of his hands and doesn't take the reeling back of his foot as a warning, he's gonna receive one (1) tantrum-y shin kick.

...well it looks tantrum-y, at least. it probably feels like the physical embodiment of an intent to kill]

[this might truly be the single demonstration of luck the churchies have ever known in their pitiful existences...!! someone, somewhere, must rejoice on their ignorant behalves......

--ah, but there is no rejoicing as far as Abel is concerned at present. he is giving a quiet forced hiss between his teeth when he feels that hand rapidly expanding immediately after being entrapped within his palm -- forcefully prying it ajar and once more putting the priest in a position where he can't help but relinquish his grasp of the claw appendage. it's free.

jerking backward to avoid the incoming kick would mean to give Charles further ground and potentially compromise the state of his continually one-handed grip-- something he is not about to concede; none-the-less, there's no real show of fear or sense of danger in the priest even if there's no doubt that Charles might well have fractured something for the sickening sound upon impact. instead of flinching in pain and loosening his hold, Abel's grip is tightening, and--

his newly opened palm is reaching out for Charles' face. his fingers tighten around his skull -- strength that is no child's play and borne of frustration, a desperate sort of plea he still hasn't given up on. his palm is intending to black out vision from the boy's eyes and Abel's pushing his body weight against that of the much lighter Chiropteran. if successful, he clearly intends to back him up against the wall beside the door where he had been trying to retreat.]

You won't be satisfied! Not by any of this, and you knew it from the start! Even if you razed the entire town to ashes, you'd still be just as empty and angry and hurt inside-- and even more lonely than you started! Do you really have to lose it all to acknowledge as much, Charles?!

[...so, self-restraint was never his strong point. it seems emotion has once more gotten the better of him, no matter how many times he might scream at himself to maintain a calm demeanor...]

[~~quietly throws them the saddest party ever~~ there's an immediate look of satisfaction on his face once his hand is successfully freed a second time - one that gains a wickedly pleased edge when his foot connects as well. there's a comforting sound... even being temporarily blinded and backed against a wall doesn't do much to wipe the grin from his face.

and to top it off, there are so many foolhardy assumptions in one statement that he actually does burst into laughter. he had already reached the lowest point of loneliness once and though he's risen above it marginally since, the scars are still soft. he's just juvenile in dealing with it, lashing out repetitively for a lack of any better coping mechanism.

still, with his back to a wall and a threatening hand against his skull, he raises his freed hand to touch Abel's wrist]

You've known me for a while, but you don't know a thing about me, do you?

[Abel doesn't know what to do. he doesn't know what more it'll take to shake him out of this-- he isn't even sure that he can. all he knows is that he can't let him continue this way. somehow... some way.]

What am I missing? Tell me! Do you think threatening to kill them and playing punching bag with your friends is getting the right message through? Isn't this proof it isn't--? [he wants to know how to help, Charles, he just-- he doesn't know how... and you certainly aren't helping, damnit...]

[behold as he makes every situation more difficult for both himself and everyone else involved! it's like a magic talent or something...

regardless, that feather-light touch is soon a harsh grip of his own; now they're a little more even in his mind, at least. a wrist for a wrist.]

Ah, I believe you might be right after all. You don't make a very interesting dance partner and I'm certain you would be just as miserable with games. [the repeated attempts at appealing to his surviving moral conscience, which isn't really engaged at the moment, is tiring him out. it's not the satisfying kind of tired he would have gotten from a proper fight, but it's enough for now. as both a measure of self-preservation and a middle finger, he'll be attempting to tighten his grip using roughly the same amount of force it would take to snap cutlery.]

[Charles has so many magical talents... why hasn't he gone into show business geez?? talk about missing out on a fortune!!

a wrist for a wrist, hm... it would be hard to deny that even if it isn't quite enough to break Abel's wrist, it's more than enough to cause some measure of pain. it's met with the same sort of reaction as the rest-- that grimace at his lips (which seems perpetual, at the moment) deepening some before he begins easing his own grasp on Charles, slowly.]

...I wish I knew what to do for you. As your friend... stopping you from doing something you would regret...

Would that be enough--? Or do you need those regrets in order to learn? To grow past the person who feels lost, right now? Charles, this is... not my strong suit. [Lilith would know what to do. ...Ciel, would know too.] I'm sorry.

[The Amazing Magical Charles and his cohort Horace it's so beautiful. he'll look into it as soon as he's done giving Abel a headache!!]

You're difficult to break, aren't you? [he gives that wrist a playful flick before settling his hand on his hip. he's a little upset that he went lightly now, seeing that he could have gotten away with a lot more.

in reply to his next statement (rather, the conflict behind the words), he rocks to his heels and smiles. it's a bright one, and it seems to lack the unnerving energy of his prior ones, but...] This is a situation where apologies just aren't good enough, I'm afraid.

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

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