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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[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.

[now, use your Magical Girl abilities to teach Horace violin and we're really in business.......

his grip has already eased over Charles' face. he isn't certain what's changed... or if anything has really changed at all -- but the violence seems to have abated for now. he's pulling his hand back and away, gently... eyes apologetic where they meet the chiropteran's.]

...They very rarely are when it counts. ['sorry' is a very hollow thing. so underwhelming, in most cases... isn't that the truth?

Abel inevitably releases Charles entirely, taking a small backwards step to offer the other some room. none of this had helped matters, he's sure of it. but making anything better seems beyond his ability.]

[that isn't the wish he wanted to make.....

his eyes are open by the time Abel pulls his hand away fully, searching his face with both amusement and a silent sense of incredulous disbelief. really, Abel... even after all that, this is all it took to get the grip to drop? an act of minute placation? he doesn't have a single doubt that any attempt to leave would be hampered, but the display of trust there, unintentional or otherwise, is enough to bring a look that borders genuine pity to his face.

as for the new gap between them, he matches step for step, still feeling somewhat aggressive and up for unnecessary posturing.]

Do you say it because you know you haven't anything better to offer? [he puts a hand to his chin] I suppose it was my own fault for getting my hopes up, considering how miserable the two of you are at properly handling things. You've still managed to be the less aggravating, though, so I'll give you points for that.

[one rarely gets what they wish for when they are a true Magical Girl of Suffering...

Charles' deduction is very correct; any attempts to leave would be met with pursuit or further obstruction. but he does have some amount of trust -- perhaps a better word befitting the priest would be 'faith,' this time around. he watches him bridge the distance between the two of them with a vague sort of confusion that doesn't do much to obscure the apology still hanging in blue eyes.]

I don't... understand.

[it's an honest confession. he has no idea what transpired between Ciel and Charles, but this was hardly the situation he expected to walk into.]

[said honest confession is met with an uncaring shrug. it's really for the better that Abel remains in the dark over that particular matter; Charles can only handle so many people and so many delicate conversations in one small span of time.]

That's fine, that's fine. You aren't meant to. [he reaches out again, this time for a condescending pat on the arm rather than another attempted attack.] But I'd rather not speak to someone who can't understand right now, you know? So you can take your teas and promises and show yourself to the door.

...

[useless as he feels in the situation, leaving just isn't in the cards. not while Charles' threat hasn't been recanted and he's still obviously in a... mood. not that Abel knows how to resolve either issue, in all honesty...

he shakes his head, just as apologetically as the rest of him has been.]

I can't do that just yet. Something's obviously on your mind, and even if you don't want to talk with me about it... you realize you don't have to, right...?

[if something is bothering him, isn't that what friends are for? support can exist in many forms, and talking it out doesn't have to be the only one.]

...You didn't have to resort to this, either.

This isn't what I was planning on resorting to, you know. [he was planning on relying on good old fashioned violence!! but you can't always get what you want, so he'll be somewhat mature(???) and accept that fact. for now...]

At any rate, I do have a few things on my mind, but I can't sort them out with you hovering around uselessly.

And if I leave? What comes of this then?

[would he leave the others out of it? leave them be? Abel doesn't know what to expect, if he should be wary of further violence from him-- to be honest, it isn't a risk he's truly willing to take.

but how would he know when that threat has truly passed...?

what does all of this come to? Abel feels like it would be beyond wrong to simply walk away...]

Then I go back to reading, as I was doing before you decided to poke your nose in. [see Abel he had actually been handling things decently on his own!! but maybe now he'll go off a drone just to be spiteful and petty

it'd be nice if that could be a joke through and through but he isn't exactly the kindest and most fair person. already prone to acting on the slightest whim, not even he could give an accurate guess as to what he'd be doing in ten or twenty minutes.]

...Then...

[last stitch effort? this isn't the first time he's seen Charles unstable, if this is much different than the last... where Dr. Johnson's hand had been the major influence. patience had paid off then... maybe it would, again.]

It isn't too late to take me up on that cup of tea. I think... you might appreciate something relaxing. Sister Kate would be happy if I shared what she made with a friend, Charles.

[he snickers softly to himself, stepping away from Abel after shaking his head.]

A good book is more relaxing to me than the finest cup of tea. [which is true enough, even if it's partially an excuse in this particular case. his "good" mood is fluctuating terribly today, and since he's managed to recapture a sliver of it, he isn't keen on letting it go.]

[ah. he's torn...

Charles seems to have regained some modicum of his equilibrium, but Abel had a firsthand taste how quickly that could unfold. it isn't a comfortable thought he would be leaving with the potential of something terrible happening if he did...

...and, the simple fact that once again, he'd be admitting he was useless in the face of a friend's pain. if he can't even do this much for him, then...]

...

[in the end, the priest is trapped in his own futility, at a loss and staring at the chiropteran make his retreat, uncertain what to do. go...? is he only making this worse?

or is there something he can do to help him--? damnit...]

[he stoops over to pluck his book back from the small table he had set it on earlier, resting a hand on the cover with some measure of fondness. after a quick glance toward the window, he turns back to face his disgruntled guest.]

Well then? There are plenty of exits for you. Through the door you came [a gesture there he's like a real flight attendant] or through the window, which I could personally show you to.

[he only leaves another few beats of debate before he feels his choice is made for him. much as he is far from vastly interested in his own well-being, he's not foolishly seeking out needless harm to his person. the threat of a certain exit out the window hints at further violence, and that's the last thing he wants when it would serve absolutely no purpose at all.

Abel's shoulders slope.

...there's nothing more he can do here. not by being present, and not by infringing on the peace Charles is requesting in no uncertain terms. so...

he starts (pathetically, of course) making his way to the door (with a limp in his step-- thank you, Charles, he appreciates your generosity this afternoon...) but...

he hesitates once he's reached it, one hand lightly on the doorframe.]

...it must be hard for you. You're not used to having others to fall back on... to chase after you when you run away, are you? Having someone who's willing to stick around even when you try to push them away.

[he tilts his head in Charles' direction-- not enough to make eye contact; it's a slight and brief gesture.]

Take whatever time you need to learn that's not the case anymore. As long as you learn it, Charles.

[he's making his way out of the door, quietly; just as he requested, he'll make his way out. maybe the only thing he can do is remain his friend when all is said and done. as underwhelming as it seems... he can understand that sometimes, something simple like that holds more value than words ever could.]

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encored - 2012-11-15 04:08 (UTC) - Expand

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