hiding at the library might work. but i've seen them go in there sometimes.
[ Will's alone with his faded adrenaline now, in his two-story house in what passes for 'nowhere' here. He still has visible neighbors, but even he'd have a hard time throwing something into their yards from his own.
Will rubs at a knot in the wood of his kitchen table, ignoring the coffee he'd made when he got home and hadn't quite finished shaking yet. ] haven't seen them on my street, yet. [ A silent suggestion. ]
Hiding in the library could be equally dangerous as it could be brilliant. I also don't wish to ultimately invite more work for myself should the locals make a mess of things. ( do you know how long it takes to sort all these books a day? and it isn't even very many, admittedly. it would be lovely if whole bins could stop disappearing without notice.
besides the point, though. )
Is that so?
( there might be a breath of surprise there, not quite trepidation, but something unexpected. V might have expected something offered in the way of man-power, but to be offered solace, freely... it's interesting
he'll leave the thought at that. more pressing matters. )
I'm not far. Any provisions I should look for on the way? Weapons, fuel, hors d'oeuvres?
well i'd hate to be the suggestion that ruined your dewey decimal system.
[ Will chews on his lip and doesn't reply to the second text immediately. If he were back home, he'd fitfully pet one of his dogs. —If he were home, he probably wouldn't be inviting anyone over at all.
The third response stuns him solidly enough that it takes him until the auto-dim on the screen starts to threaten to turn the phone off, before he remembers to respond. ]
only if you're hungry for something nicer than reheated ravioli. [ Which Will bought frozen from the store. He's not exactly a haut cuisine chef, sorry...not that Will actually knows anything of V's tastes beyond what he seemed to like for tea. ]
Oddly enough, I can't say I've ever had ravioli to start with. ( food has always been a luxury more than a necessity, especially while existing in the Underworld for stretches at a time. being half-demon has some economical benefits.
means you have to subsist on crystallized demon blood, which is arguably...much less exciting than actual food...
it's cheap, though! )
So fret not, I imagine I'll be easy to impress.
( getting another text five minutes later shouldn't be shocking in terms of wait time, seeing as V definitely isn't a five minute walk from Will's secluded home... but the contents of the message are on a markedly different train of mood from the last correspondence. )
It might be a little past due to say, but I hope you have a medical kit up there in your idyllic house.
where did you say you were from, again? [ It's asked rhetorically, or at least it is for now. Will fully realizes that now's not the time...and that V already alluded to an unusual life prior to Deerington, back at the cafe. ]
glad someone won't be disappointed by my cooking. i wish i could say the same about myself.
[ Will's got plates out on the counter in an innocent, likely ill-fated attempt at playing civil host, when he gets that text.
Well. At least this is more in-line with what he'd expect from his life. ] one of the first things i bought.
is it first aid-kit level? or should we discuss bringing you to the hospital? i'm not a doctor just because i'm first-aid certified.
I don't know of any doctors that aren't native to the town; might do more harm than good, given the current social climate. I'll certainly live. ( that's reassuring, right? )
no subject
[ Will's alone with his faded adrenaline now, in his two-story house in what passes for 'nowhere' here. He still has visible neighbors, but even he'd have a hard time throwing something into their yards from his own.
Will rubs at a knot in the wood of his kitchen table, ignoring the coffee he'd made when he got home and hadn't quite finished shaking yet. ] haven't seen them on my street, yet. [ A silent suggestion. ]
no subject
besides the point, though. )
Is that so?
( there might be a breath of surprise there, not quite trepidation, but something unexpected. V might have expected something offered in the way of man-power, but to be offered solace, freely... it's interesting
he'll leave the thought at that. more pressing matters. )
I'm not far. Any provisions I should look for on the way? Weapons, fuel, hors d'oeuvres?
no subject
[ Will chews on his lip and doesn't reply to the second text immediately. If he were back home, he'd fitfully pet one of his dogs. —If he were home, he probably wouldn't be inviting anyone over at all.
The third response stuns him solidly enough that it takes him until the auto-dim on the screen starts to threaten to turn the phone off, before he remembers to respond. ]
only if you're hungry for something nicer than reheated ravioli. [ Which Will bought frozen from the store. He's not exactly a haut cuisine chef, sorry...not that Will actually knows anything of V's tastes beyond what he seemed to like for tea. ]
no subject
means you have to subsist on crystallized demon blood, which is arguably...much less exciting than actual food...
it's cheap, though! )
So fret not, I imagine I'll be easy to impress.
( getting another text five minutes later shouldn't be shocking in terms of wait time, seeing as V definitely isn't a five minute walk from Will's secluded home... but the contents of the message are on a markedly different train of mood from the last correspondence. )
It might be a little past due to say, but I hope you have a medical kit up there in your idyllic house.
( uh ohhh )
v pls
glad someone won't be disappointed by my cooking. i wish i could say the same about myself.
[ Will's got plates out on the counter in an innocent, likely ill-fated attempt at playing civil host, when he gets that text.
Well. At least this is more in-line with what he'd expect from his life. ] one of the first things i bought.
is it first aid-kit level? or should we discuss bringing you to the hospital? i'm not a doctor just because i'm first-aid certified.
👁〰️👁
Incoming.