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

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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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"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."

Llewellyn frowned when he noticed Rhy pulling his hand back quickly, "Are you alright, love?" He asked, trying to not crowd his husband, but still concerned enough. It was truly frustrating to not be able to do more, and for what felt like the dozenth time that evening he internally cursed his rotten luck and the creature that had attacked him.

In the oven? Oh, that would have been quite good... Melted, baked cheese with the pasta would have been delicious. "Perhaps we'll have to experiment more with it in the future? See what we can figure out together in the kitchen as we learn." It might be nice to work side by side at putting together a meal once his arm was healed up.

"Experiment," Rhy laughs. "I think I should learn to make more than a salad or sandwich first."

What if he set the apartment on fire? It wasn't like he could fall the flames into his palm and quash them like a proper fire magician. He wasn't that talented.

"Ah, but we use the uh- sandwiches and salad as our Plan B if what we try to make goes poorly!" He responded with a small smile, "If we team up it can't go too badly..." In theory, anyway. "And trying new things is important, love."

If they set the apartment on fire... Well, that bridge could be crossed when they came to it. It wasn't like they could live off salad and sandwiches forever, they enjoyed variety too much for that.

"Well, that sounds like a plan," Rhy smiled. He loved the idea of this all, their little domestic life.

A thing Rhy never would have thought someone like him could have.

"Okay, I think the pasta is going. Now to get butter out so it's not too hard to use."

“Thank you, I thought it was a rather good plan.” He responded with a small smile, feeling more than a little pleased with himself that he’d come up with something his husband found agreeable. It might be fun, and a nice way to pass the time when they weren’t working or occupied by other things. Once his arm was healed, of course, and perhaps a book of simple recipes could be found at the Historium.

His brow perked up a bit. “It should melt pretty well with the pasta, but that does sound like it might help, uh- quicken the process?” Llewellyn watched the pot from his vantage point, though. He was at least trying to do his part with keeping an eye on dinner. He could at least warn Rhy if it started to boil over again.

"Quicken the process and not cool the pasta too much," Rhy pointed out with a smile. Come on, they've got to be happy with that, right?

Or so he hoped for that.

“That too, dear. I’m sure it’s going to be good.” Considering Llewellyn wasn’t fussy, and he was getting hungry? He’d definitely be happy with that, even if it did go a little cold. Fancy food was nice and all, but there was something to be said for the simpler dishes. “I've found simple pasta is nice after a long day, nice and mm… filling.” Comforting even, which would be a nice bonus.

"It wasn't something I was used to at home," Rhy admitted. He went to fish out their strainer. "Our cuisine was so very different. Or maybe our chefs were."

Llewellyn gestured with his good hand, smiling a little. “It’s probably a little of both? Chefs tend to each have their own ways… And different worlds probably make for some differences in cuisine, different regions in mine tends to mean different food to begin with.”

Watching Rhy looking for something, he paused thoughtfully. “I do believe the colander is in the cupboard to your left, love.” Llewellyn added helpfully, eyes drifting back to the stove where the pasta was. It seemed like it was behaving for the moment, bubbling away but not over.

Ah, there is was. Rhy reached for the cupboard and pulled the metal with holes out. Once that was down he turned the heat off. Then it was a matter of pouring the pasta out to drain.

"Well, there. I dno't seem to have ruined it. I hope."

He just wanted to buy supper and go home!

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