[log] Royce Melborn and the worst night ever [closed]

[devoutish]

Characters: Alfie Solomons, Fiona, Haurchefant, Royce Melborn
Location building 48
Date: evening of 133
Summary: four people meet up for a trade; lots of dorkery ensues
Warnings: n/a; will edit if anything comes up

48: The only doors in this single-story house are the front door and the bathroom; all other doorways are separated by faded green and yellow curtain beads. Even the bedroom gets this treatment, and it's the same for the living room and kitchen. The beads seem to be made of glass; moving through the house is a bit of a noisy affair. The bead curtain leading into the living room has been torn down, with half of the strings now scattered on the floor and some of the beads shattered, leaving a small mess of glass. The sharp bits of broken glass have been swept to one side, out of the way of anyone walking. "ALPHONSE ELRIC, MAMI TOMOE, FREYA CRESCENT, GREED, EDWARD ELRIC, STEPHANIE BROWN, DAY FORTY THREE, TRAVELLING NORTH-EAST." has been written on one of the walls. "ALPHONSE ELRIC, STEPHANIE BROWN, EDWARD ELRIC, GREED, DAY SIXTY-SIX, TRAVELLING NORTH-WEST. DEAR FORMER RESIDENT, WE ARE FRIENDS, PLEASE DO NOT FEEL YOU NEED TO HIDE FROM US. CONTACT LELRIC." has been written on the walls.

Catch-all! Top-level and tag as you see fit.

Comments

[devoutish]

[Alfie, very mindful of the fact that he's still recovering, doesn't fully search the house, instead opting to spend more time resting his legs on the couch (or if he's able to nab it, the mattress in the bedroom). He might be found dozing once or twice, but he mostly stays awake until bedtime - chatting, network-browsing, and being content to just sit quietly on his own.

In lieu of a dining room to pray in, he opts for the kitchen instead, choosing a time when no one else is in there to go stand quietly in a corner and mutter under his breath in Hebrew. He also gives the house a quick run-through, taking a few photographs and looking for writing on the walls. Whenever he finds it, he reads it out loud into his tablet, saving it to his notes.]

[plundering]

[Fiona does search the house, just out of habit. She's still moving a little gingerly, because all that running around underground really wasn't great for her shoulder or her ribs, but at least the pain has subsided into a dull ache she can mostly ignore over the past couple of weeks. She makes a face as she brushes the curtain out of her way to enter the living room from the bedroom. It's not the worst house in Norfinbury by far, but it might be the most annoying.

Since Alfie is (very rudely!) taking up the whole couch, Fiona just hovers next to it, shooting him a grin.]

Catching up on the latest gossip?

[devoutish]

Keeping up to date with what's been going on, yeah? Lots to read, now that everything from that "repairs" project is public.

[The airquotes around repairs are practically audible.

He swings his legs off the couch, making room for her.]

[plundering]

[She sits down next to him. It's less of her usual plop and much more careful, but she does prop her legs up on the coffee table. Ladylike.]

Repairs. Right. Miller is full of shit.

[She really, aggressively does not like Robert Miller.]

[devoutish]

Why, Fiona.

[All the sarcasm here.]

You mean to say you don't feel we did a good three days' work?

[Maybe it'll turn out that they actually accomplished something. He's not discounting that as a possibility. But from where he's sitting right now, it seems to him that they're no further along than they started, and with some unpleasant memories to boot.

At least they have a little more information, especially when it comes to the radiation poisoning.]

[plundering]

[She snorts.]

Best three days of my life. Nothing else compares. At least I didn't lose any fingers.

[devoutish]

Yeah. Frisk suggested our people stick a lock of hair into the hole. Smart kid.

[bywolves]

[ This is not a great house for Royce.

In fact, he's got a list of what makes everything awful! The loud beads that announce his arrival into every room; they make him on edge, make him tense for every movement anybody makes. The company; Fiona is going to drive him crazy, he knows, and Haurchefant... Haurchefant is so clearly an elf that it makes Royce uncomfortable. And of course, last but not least, the alcohol, from the night before; he doesn't have a hangover, but he at least has a headache that has him seeking quiet places away from everybody.

He quietly trusts Alfie, but the other two, he can't. It means he jams himself up in the bedroom in the corner of the room, backpack behind him against the wall so nobody can get to it, and sleeps sitting up. Lightly. With his letter opener in hand and broomstick with sharp bits embedded at the end leaning over him.

And of course, he'll be present for the negotiation over whatever it is Fiona and Alfie are trading, but mostly? He's silent and tense, sticking to one place for most of the night. ]

[devoutish]

[One good thing about Royce claiming the bedroom is that he's liable to chase away anyone who isn't Alfie - and so when Alfie comes in to visit, he stretches out on the mattress, folding his arms over his stomach and glancing over at Royce.]

Bad evening, eh?

[He says it quietly enough that Fiona or Haurchefant would have to be trying really hard if they wanted to listen in.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce, tense and still from the sound of the beads, doesn't look up. He's got his knees bent and pulled about halfway to his chest, arms folded in his lap. ]

It's fine. [ Royce says, voice low as well. ] I can deal.

[devoutish]

She's looking to get a rise out of you, right, so I would not give her the satisfaction.

[The reasons for his discomfort around Haurche are less obvious to Alfie - but given what he knows of Royce, he's assuming it's because Haurche is a stranger.]

[bywolves]

She won't get a rise. [ Royce says, pulling his hood down further. He's really considering taking one of those aspirin he has, but he's still not... entirely sure how it works. His voice is a little rough, even with the low volume. ] She's annoying, but she doesn't have anything she can use to get under my skin.

I don't pick fights, Solomons.

[devoutish]

Yeah. I didn't think you did, much.

[Not without a good reason, anyway. But he still lets things get to him, as far as Alfie can tell - hence why he's in here, in a foul mood.]

[bywolves]

[ He does! And Alfie's right, it's why he's curled up alone, but part of that is because Fiona and Haurchefant are strangers. Logically, he knows they won't hurt him or try to steal his things, because it wouldn't be wise. But after a lifetime of paranoia paying off, and especially after House and Ecks, he just... can't relax.

Royce tilts his head back a little, closing his eyes. ] Did you get everything you wanted out of this meeting?

heh heh heh

[plundering]

[Fiona has been in this house before, and she's fully aware of how obnoxious the beads everywhere are. She's still checking all the rooms, just to make sure she didn't miss anything, and so when she enters the bedroom with a loud clatter, she finds Royce. Fiona completely understands not trusting others—she definitely doesn't trust Royce, but even to her, this is ridiculous and paranoid. So, she cocks her head, eyebrows raising as she crosses her arms.]

Nice... broom. I'm pretty sure that's not how they're supposed to look.

screams into pillow

[bywolves]

[ The loud clatter has Royce tense and on edge, and once he sees it's not Alfie, he's got his letter opener in hand. Not that he lets her see it. He just goes still, like an animal backed into a corner, and stares at her from under his hood. ]

I don't care. Go away. [ If tone of voice could kill... ]

winks suggestively

[plundering]

[Wow. Fiona prides herself on reading people, but he isn't even a challenge. His body language is practically screaming at her. It's weirdly disappointing.]

Calm down, Duster, I'm not going to steal your crap.

[bywolves]

No, you're not. [ He scowls. ] You also don't want to talk to me.

[plundering]

You read me like a book, huh?

[Man, if he's going to be a prick, he could at least be fun about it.]

[silverfuller]

[Haurchefant does, as he usually does, stop and lower his pack by the door. As the others search and go about their business he lingers near the entrance with his shield on his arm and the fireplace poker in hand, gazing out the window.

If anything comes...well, he hopes he'll see it...]

[devoutish]

[Eventually, Alfie takes a break from flirting with Fiona and plotting with Royce to come visit Haurche. It doesn't take much thought to guess at what he might be doing.]

See anything yet?

[silverfuller]

[He smiles.]

Nay. The Fury willing our evening shall remain uneventful.

[devoutish]

[He strokes his beard, peering out the window himself.]

Yeah, can't see a fucking thing.

The Fury. What's that?

[silverfuller]

Ah. 'Tis the title of Halone, my Goddess.

[He chuckles.]

Pray forgive me, at times I forget not everyone here knows much of my world.

[devoutish]

Plenty here don't know about my God either, mate.

You're an elf, yeah? Is that an elf religion?