aterat | He just wanted to buy supper and go home!

Entry tags:

He just wanted to buy supper and go home!

Who; Llewellyn (And his Hollow!Sister) & whoever is around!
What; Hollowmen/women plot thing!
Where; Around the city, probably near the markets
When; Late June when stuff started happening
Warnings; Probable violence, Hollow creature, also I got wordy? Oops? I will update if anything major happens!

Llewellyn was on his way home for the evening… A quick stop at the market for something to bring home for him and Rhy to share, and maybe something for dessert. And then he’d be set. It had been, all in all, a pretty decent day. The detective was starting to feel a little more settled into this new world. Work was going well, and it was starting to feel like they were really building a life in this place.

He was still a little worried about the whole ‘Oh the directory was destroyed and the entities inside it are now roaming free, but it’s fine!’ conversation he had with Athony the other day… But so far nothing strange had occurred, and certain parts of the city were a little more safe for the average person to wander than it had been.

What Llewellyn hadn’t expected was to be drawn to a stop by a familiar voice.

“Llewellyn?”

Not a voice he expected to hear again, nor was he entirely sure he wanted to hear. It left a cold, hurt pit in his stomach just thinking about their last encounter… But he turned, eyes dragging to the sight of a woman nearly as tall as him. Dark, curly hair pulled up and tied in place, her garb casual but of the style of their world and time, Clarissa Watts.

Of all the people Llewellyn would have liked to see here, of course the universe decided to pluck her out of whatever estate in Europe she’d moved to after their parting and drop her here.

“Llewellyn, are you even listening to me? Or is your head in the clouds as much as it ever was when you were a child.” Her irritated, impatient tone breaks through his thoughts, and he chose to ignore the fact that maybe she’d been right this time. He couldn’t be blamed for it, though, not that she would understand…

“No, I hear you… I’m just surprised…? You have rather sprung out of nowhere, and I admit… I’m not sure why you’re talking to me. You did say you didn’t intend to ever see me again, didn’t you?” He responded, tone equally irritated. The usual concern that he showed others was absent, even if he knew he should be… slightly concerned. “Or do you want my help now? Do you want to talk to me because you find yourself alone in the world, without anyone to explain what you should do? I suppose I do have some experience with that.”

Alright, maybe he needed to rein in some of that bitterness… He knew well enough that she didn’t ask to be here anymore than other arrivals did. An awkward expression crossed his face, clearing his throat a little. Llewellyn still refused to look the woman in the eyes, though he didn’t really feel like seeing whatever barely restrained contempt she might still harbor there.

An awkward pause followed before a huff escaped her. “I just want to know what this all is, Llewellyn. I saw you walking and I just… I don’t know, you were a familiar face and I didn’t think.” Folding her arms, adjusting the shawl wrapped around her, she continued. “I don’t expect you to forgive me or to pretend things are normal. I just want to know what’s going on here and then I intend to be on my way.” And by her tone, that suited her just fine. “… If you at least humour me, I can answer questions you might have too, you know?”

That gets a sidelong glance, complex emotions welling up at the offer. Of everything she could suggest… That was probably the one thing that would get him. She’d been old enough to know them, to remember their family before the incident. It was so clear in recent years that there was a lot she had neglected to tell him, to teach him in the couple of years that she’d stuck around before she’d abandoned him for the life she’d wanted instead. “Will you answer honestly?”

Because when had Clarissa ever uttered something that wasn’t a lie?

… other than when she’d intended to use the truth to hurt?

He could see a grimace marring her face out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t have anything to gain by lying about them, Llewellyn. If you answer my questions, I’ll answer yours.”

“Right.” He huffed, and that was as much of a confirmation as she’d get, a hand waving in a direction towards a side street he liked to cut through to get to the stand in the market he liked to eat at. It meant to follow, and so she did.

Of course, Llewellyn missed the satisfied smirk on her face as she trailed behind into the alleyway. Seemed he was making this easy.

Once they were a decent way into the alleyway, no sounds could be heard from the street, it suddenly wasn’t Clarissa Watts following behind him, as the glamour dropped there was nothing but a creature made of bones, rot and rubbish that street sweepers would have swept up and out of the main roads... A bone here, broken dishware there, twigs and rotting wood from crates just haphazardly gathered together to make something in the vague form of a body.

A piece of broken wood swung out to catch him in the side and slammed him into a wall. With a yelp, he stumbled to catch his balance against its surface. A sound both shocked and confused escaped him as his head snapped back to see what he certainly hadn’t expected.

No, Llewellyn had never seen the likes of this before… One hand going to his side, while the other raised to block his face as a branched hand reached for him. So he ran, darting down another side alley as he tried to process what was following him and what he should even do.

Stupid, stupid, stupid Llewellyn. Should have known better. She wouldn’t have ever wanted to talk to you, anyway. She would have avoided you and found anyone else to talk to here.

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"Faith. Belief in things not seen. Yes, that sounds about right for you. Then agains it's right for me too. Magic is something unseen when it's not in use, and I believe in it."

Well they hadn't had any left, Rhy had just bought more. Ham was lovely thank you very much.

"Be careful, dear."

"Perhaps? But it's hard to not believe in things I might not have before considering what we've seen." He responded with a small smile over his shoulder. Besides that, even in his own world someone had to listen to his coworker's stories and ideas with a more open mind than Murdoch had.

The comment gets a tiny wince as he was about to grab several things at once out of habit. Right. "I'm being very careful, love. But thank you for the reminder." Llewellyn added, moving one thing out at a time to sit on the counter next to his husband. Rhy really did know him too well.

Silly man, trying to consider carrying too much. Rhy turns enough to waggle a spoon at his lover.

"I am just going to have to take care of you, old man, aren't I?"

Being taken care of was a subject Llewellyn wasn't particularly good with... He took care of himself and there was always a voice in the back of his mind insisting he shouldn't be a burden.

But Rhy's tone was playful and... Llewellyn was actively trying to not slip into old habits here. So instead, his eyes followed the spoon, a small, almost amused smile crossed his face. "Mm... You could let me take care of myself, but then you run the risk of me trying to carry too many things from the fridge, or setting the kitchen on fire."

See, Rhy was very good at being taken care of. It was something royalty had to live with. So now he was given a chance to deal with this. What more can he do?

"Please, love, let me take care of you for a change."

Closing the fridge door, he shook his head a little. The request a little more firm than the light teasing, he glanced at his husband quietly for a moment. "I can't promise I'll be an easy patient, I'm... not good at it." He responded, his smile a little more wry for a moment before it softened. "I always had to watch out for my brothers, and... then I was always wondering if my sister left because I was too much trouble." He admitted in a much quieter tone.

"But I'll try to let you?" He moved over to rest against the counter, eyes watching Rhy carefully. "You might just need to remind me, if I'm being exceptionally stubborn." He ended with a small attempt at a lighter tone.

"Well, I'm a very attractive nurse that does bedside care," Rhy smiles. Surely the suggestiveness says enough. "Maybe you're old enough to let me take watch of you right now."

He gets the pot filled and starts to hate it.

Llewellyn actually caught on to that rather quickly, and Rhy should be pleased with himself for it, considering how often things didn’t land with him. A pleasant flush tinged his grin a bit. “Oh, I should be very lucky for an attractive, attentive caretaker. I might be so captivated by you that I actually behave myself and be a good patient for once.” He responded, leaning on the counter next to Rhy.

“Mm.. I would be rather motivated to do as told, to keep your attention.” He added, tempted to lean in closer but at least having the common sense to not while the man was moving around the stove.

"That sounds like a lot of good decisions there. Maybe the nurse will need to reward you for behaving," Rhy offered with a smile. Was that a suggestion to blow his lover?

Tilting his head slightly, he considered his husband with a little curious smile. "Sometimes I am capable of them, not always but... sometimes."

Finally, leaning in over his husband's shoulder once he wasn't hovered over the pot on the stove. "Positive reinforcement might be a good way to inspire more smart decisions..." He responded with a tone that was light and a little playful.

"Well then, after dinner I shall try and reinforce," Rhy agreed. "Now sit. The water is starting so I'll cut up some sandwich things for you."

There was some hesitation to go back to the table to sit, even with the incentive to behave for later... He wanted to be close, a weird underlying need. It wasn’t really rational though, and even he realized that. So with a soft smile and a quick kiss to his husband’s cheek, he moved back to the table. “Yes, I suppose I best do as I’m told in that case.”

"It really is," Rhy agreed, picking up the sandwich makings and carrying them to the table so he can start fixing that too.

"Have you heard of others attacks?"

Llewellyn rested his good arm on the table, tapping its surface lightly. “I have a feeling once I start going through the tell-phone network that I will find quite a few...” He frowned a little. “I get the distinct feeling that this is more widespread than just myself and Harry.”

Watching as Rhy started to make sandwiches, he considered the conversation he had recently with Athony. “You recall hearing about the Directory in the historium being destroyed, right? I Uh- I Have a bad feeling that this has something to do with the spirits that were being contained in it... They were said to be angry, that they resented the people who arrived here?” And the being that attacked him certainly seemed to have intended to finish what it started before he ran into Harry. “The Aspect Athony told me they shouldn’t bother us, but... it’s been suggested that they don’t know much more than we do about some things in this world.”

Widespread. Damn, Rhy hated to hear that. He wished that he could do magic like his brother could. IT wasn't like Rhy could help people with this. Damn, he actually hated not having a military at his beck and call.

"Aerith mentioned that the Directory felt like a living being. Or beings. Voices. ANd they were unhappy. I guess she was right. Damn, this is horrible."

“Unfortunately she was, indeed, right.” Reached out to pick at a bloom in a vase he’d left on the table. “We’ll all need to be careful if we see familiar faces that weren’t here before until it’s sorted... Not particularly easy considering how it’s normal for people to simply just arrive.” How did you sort something like this? Put the spirits to rest? Hope they got bored or their tempers cooled? Llewellyn didn’t know. What he did know was even living people who were bent on revenge didn’t tend to give up. He doubted spirits would be much different.

“They’re very good at mimicking the people they look like, I certainly couldn’t tell the difference.” But he also considered that might be because he didn’t have a sense for such things. Someone with the ability to see through magical disguises or something of that nature might have more luck.

"Perhaps... if you can't call them on the tell phone, don't trust them?"

Rhy was quite happy to go with that set of rules. What other choice did he have?

At least he knew not to follow his father or mother. They were dead.

Llewellyn hummed a little, “Yes… That might actually be the best way to go about it.” If one checked the phone before going anywhere with the person in question, that might at least prevent some attacks.

“Checking the tell-phone would at least give someone a chance without alerting the spirit if that’s what it is… It waited to attack till after we’d left the main roads once I let my guard down and there was no one around. Harry was down a sidestreet as well when I ran into him, so they may prefer to not attack in crowded areas.”

So there it was. And Rhy? He was happy to have a solution. New rule, not going off alone without checking the phones first to make sure it's not someone about to jump him. Which only helps if he knows who it is.

"I will bless that man until the day I die."

Rhy should be very pleased with himself, it's a good plan. One they both definitely needed to follow... Though Rhy needed to remember to pick his up off the counter and Llewellyn needed to stop misplacing his. Really, someone needed to invent some sort of accessory to make that a little easier.

"He's a good friend. I just hope he's doing all right after all that... I think his run in upset him too... Or at least threw him off." Llewellyn wasn't sure he'd seen the wizard angry before, but he'd definitely been rattled by it. Llewellyn blinked a moment or two later, glancing over his shoulder as he heard the pot starting to boil.

okay, yes, Rhy should remember to carry the phone. In his defense, he wasn't used to something like that in his pockets okay?

Rhy was about to talk more about the Watts situation before the sound of the water made him yelp and turn around to rush to the pot.

"I don't know how everyone makes this cooking thing seem so easy," he mumbled as he turned the fire down and started to get the pasta out.

Llewellyn leaned back in his chair, tilting his head as he watched his husband fuss at the stove. "I certainly wish I knew, otherwise I would have eaten a lot less street food over the years." Well, that and he would have needed his own kitchen to do so in his world. "I can only guess that with experience it gets easier, and neither of us have really had the chance to learn or practice much before now."

And, hey, at least nothing was on fire... Right?

"Maybe someone teaches classes? Maybe we can learn?" Rhy says. He's still getting used to cleaning which their home actually needs this time. All the scrubbing was a VERY serious experience.

They should make magic for that.

"Alright, pasta is there. Um, sauce. I heat that... Well, maybe we can just put butter and cheese on it?"

“That’s not a bad idea… Someone had wanted to teach me back at the Sphere, but there was never time for it.” Maybe he should have made time, but they hadn’t needed it nearly as much as they did in this world.

Not that it would have helped that evening, but the point was that he could stand to learn. They had to start doing a lot of things they never had before… Or hadn’t in quite some time, anyway. Cooking was one of the more important ones, especially if things were going to happen that kept them in.

“Oh, I’m quite sure a little butter and cheese would do nicely.” He certainly didn’t need a complicated sauce to go with it. And what could be bad about some cheesy pasta? Nothing, in his opinion. “Since the pasta is already hot it should melt together easily, I think?”

Never time for it. Yeah, there never seemed to be. Rhy moved to stir the pasta and his hand jerked back after a moment when the boiling water (which he had put too much of into the pot) nearly brushed his fingers. But he was trying.

"Yes, I think it should. The chefs at home would make things like this, but in the oven. Where the cheese just seemed to stick everything together in the most wonderful way. I wish I knew how they did it."

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