Or it'll just be a doodle, but you can keep laughing about it.
[Which is just as good a purpose as selling for millions, maybe, kind of—
Junpei settles back against the wall again, picking up the beer that was definitely not supposed to be a prop and definitely not forgotten about for art club just now, and - considers more quantum mechanics, so it's really any other afternoon of a day ending in -y.]
You mean, when you get to 2029, could you find me being pissed off in the middle of the desert? Dunno.
[Fun thought experiment, almost!! Junpei's understanding of time after all that's happened is that linearity is a matter of perspective and everything else only makes sense after someone else explains it to you a handful of times. And then that's only a "sort of"...]
There's no reason they couldn't be the same. They don't teach you how to find out in quantum school, mostly because quantum school doesn't exist.
[He shrugs, like, unfortunately that's the best he can do, and it comes with it the implication that "no they're not" is just as likely as "yes they are." But why not choose the option that feels a little less lonely, just because? It's harmless.]
Oh, I will, [ he promises easily, because honestly, he's going to look at that drawing every single time he starts to lose his mind about, you know, about being stuck here or being alone or any number of things, because he already knows it's guaranteed to cheer him up. so, yeah, maybe it is worth more than selling for millions.
he nods, then, because that's exactly what he's asking — and, okay, so maybe it's a good thing junpei doesn't try to explain the linearity aspect of it all (or non-linearity, or whatever), because he likely wouldn't get it... but he does get the important part: that if it falls squarely in the middle of "possible" and "impossible", well, he knows what his choice is going to be. ]
So that's five years, then. [ he nods, again, this time almost more to himself than anything else. five years? yeah, he can do five years. ]
Right, that's not bad. I can mirror hop anywhere, you know, I think I could find you just by — [ he gives his hand a little wave, as if to say, knowing you. ] And you've probably had enough near-death experiences that you'd be able to see me. Or if not, I could always just haunt you, leave you notes, that kinda stuff.
[Ah, and it is finding him in a desert somewhere, then? That had been more of an example when Junpei said it than a... suggestion? An assumption? So he's touched that finding him somewhere in five years is an actual, real idea. Like that movie about the time-traveling mailbox at a lake or something, but uh, not a magical romance or anything.
Like a normal time travel—thing. Five years. He's mid-sip when he chokes a little, sputtering and hastily covering his mouth. Enough near-death experiences, christ, that shouldn't make him laugh and yet here he is—]
Do you want another list?
[He can probably remember, buuut maybe later. Yeah, he's pretty sure he can see ghosts whenever he wants, these days.]
Don't, like, not leave me notes, though. I can pretend it's a regular haunting.
[ well, duh, what else would it be, dummy? that was always his intention with the question, instead of a generic hypothetical — and even if it's now just a bit more personal hypothetical, thinking about it makes him feel a bit better, like it's actually possible. like he's not bound to lose this — whatever they have, here — by going back home.
junpei choking next to him over his choice of words is — well, a bit concerning but also quite funny, but charles bites back his chuckle because the words that come next leave him nothing but earnest and serious when he answers, ] Only if you want to tell me. But if you want, then yeah. Course.
[ now, in the future, whenever — it doesn't really matter. junpei's listened to him share the shit that he's been through, of course he wants to return the favour. and more than that... whatever it is about his past that junpei feels like sharing, charles is happy to hear it.
well. maybe not, like, literally happy because he's pretty sure multiple near-death experiences will not make him happy, but, you know.
the comment about notes, though? that does make him happy. he chuckles as he nods. ] Sure. Not sure if that'll make you seem more or less mental when people see you talking to thin air, but it does make for cool party tricks. You know, like scissors walking on their own on the desk, papers flying about... [ his voice takes on an edge of mischief, ] I could probably lift you and you could pretend to know how to levitate.
[First he wants to find him in five years and now he's ready and willing to hear Junpei's list of near-death experiences (once Junpei can figure out how to make "near" do a whole lot more legwork there, probably), and that's a bit much to process at once. Junpei gives him a look that's a bit watery from choking like a dingus but still appreciative, softer than he means to be when they're talking about death. Somehow! Again!
They've really got to talk about different hobbies. And it won't be right now. Still:]
You're going to need diagrams. Give me a little while, okay?
[It's not really a question because he knows Charles will give him the time; just, you know. He'll get there sooner or later.
Here and now and hypothetically five years in the future but only for one of them (this is why he'll need the diagrams to explain everything, eventually), these are some fascinating party tricks being proposed, especially, uh. Picking him up? Like, just carrying him around?
Junpei looks very studiously at his beer and thinks, huh, maybe he shouldn't dwell too much on that thought right now, so—]
You think you can pick me up? [ah fuck failed step one, welp,] What, just 'cause you're taller than me?
the way i went "oh god" and then immediately segued into "i can make this worse"
Course, [ charles repeats, like it's a foregone conclusion, him just giving junpei as much time as he needs on this.
and then — well, here's the thing: if there's one thing to know about charles rowland, it's that you can never, ever give him a challenge. because he absolutely cannot and will not back down from it, and so when junpei says you think you can pick me up —
charles grins. it's not a particularly reassuring grin.
and really, junpei's right to have doubts: charles, with his build that can only be described as "slight", his wiry, lanky muscles that don't even seem particularly defined, looks for all the world like someone who wouldn't be your first pick for, well, picking someone up. ]
No, [ he says in response, ] Because I'm the brawn part of our agency.
[ he's pushed himself into a squat between one heartbeat and the next, and then he's sliding one arm under junpei's legs and one behind his back and saying, ] Leave the beer, [ before quite simply scooping him up in a full-on bridal carry right there, and then just rising up from his squat to his full height like it's absolutely no effort at all.
once he's fully upright, he just beams at junpei, though it's a tad smug. ]
[Yep, "reassured" would definitely not be the emotion Junpei is feeling when faced with this dreadful threat of picking him up. Not reassured in the slightest. He can only return that grin with a mild sort of boggling, as if he doesn't expect to ever have to reap what he sows, or at least not right this second. He can just say things and Charles will take the bait? Like that?
Not that he's admitting there was bait. He says,] Uh.
[And then, just as smartly,] Wait, what?
[To his credit he does put the beer down, albeit hastily and with an almost disastrous wobble, and then oh yep yeah he's up in the air, alright, this is— Well! This is something! If Junpei wobbles next it's because he's had 2-point-something drinks, and he pinwheels one of his arms for a few seconds before he's certain Charles isn't going to tip them both over.
He's abruptly unsure of what to do with his hands, so he folds his arms and sighs; show off... not impressive at all... stop giving him that look. His traitorous ears are going to catch fire they're so red, he can tell. Jeez.]
[ said in a tone that's also very much not reassuring. and — yeah, actually, it does seem like junpei can just say things and charles will simply do as instructed, or suggested, quite simply, without even thinking about it.
which is why with a shrug (and the movement makes him jostle junpei a bit in his arms), charles bends his knees to let junpei stand on his own feet again, though only for a second; his hand on his back moves to his waist, joined by his other hand, and he just lifts.
holding him up in the air is just as effortless like this, only, they're pretty much eye level with each other like this and it's easier for charles to give him a challenging smirk, raising his brows. ]
[This is not a power Junpei should have, he thinks. Charles moves to put him back down and he feels a weird mixture of relieved and disappointed, not that he's going to unpack that right now. Then, oh, hello—]
Uh, what—
[Hello, being lifted by the waist is a brand new experience that comes with a moment of shocked sputtering and a fresh flush of color in his cheeks. He grabs Charles's shoulders automatically so as not to flip over or something - not that that's possible, but underneath the first response of bwuh??? that's what his brain provides.
So he's handling this deftly. After a beat of mild boggling he looks down with a thoughtful hum, as if he's checking out the viability of this for levitating. Hmm, hmm...]
[ it's not difficult, this — it's not like his muscles can really hurt, so he's capable of being a lot stronger than he used to be in life, and despite being unable to physically change, decades of whacking things really hard with his bat has made his spirit stronger.
that doesn't stop him from briefly worrying about dropping junpei, though, now that he's holding him in a less secure way, and so (instead of, you know, setting him back on the floor like might be the expected move, the smart move) he takes a step back, then another, braces himself by leaning against the wall while keeping their position otherwise the same.
and then he just grins fondly and rolls his eyes, as if to say, well now you're just being difficult on purpose. ]
Yeah? Just technically, is it. All right, what do you suggest, then?
[He is being difficult on purpose, thanks for noticing. Not being dropped immediately makes the worry about being dropped immediately go right out the window (the alcohol may also help with this), and Junpei scoffs. Is Charles not the expert haunter? Must he, some guy, come up with ghostly special effects himself?
It's very specific. He drums his fingers on Charles' shoulders in mock seriousness.]
Wires? [A beat.] No, wait, that's actual amateur theater. Let me think.
[...But is he thinking or is he just looking at Charles, that's the real question. It's a hassle to be difficult on purpose for too long, and yet, Charles keeps giving him that look, the look of letting him get away with it. Another power he should not have.]
Have you ever seen that movie with the, uh, big dance lift? Don't do that in here, I'll whack my head on the ceiling light, but that might work.
[Only the lift part, specifically, as Junpei overestimates his ability to not flop uselessly like a levitating fish in this scenario.]
being pretty only takes you so far and he passed that like twenty tags ago
[ no, wait, that's actual amateur theater, he says, and charles ducks his head and laughs, almost despite himself, before looking up at junpei, due to their changed angle this time and waiting for him to come up with a solution — because, really, despite being a ghost, charles hasn't, you know, actually haunted a lot of places, or people. comes with the whole fact that their cases take them so many different places, and that their clients are themselves ghosts, too —
anyway. he makes a considering hum at the suggestion. ] Huh, yeah, maybe. I mean, might be a stretch for me, that... I don't wanna drop you.
[ said like that's the biggest issue with that particular move. he glances back at junpei, though, and realising that he probably should let him down — well. edwin doesn't call him impetuous for nothing — ]
Could do this, though, [ he says and promptly lifts his arms sharply to get momentum so he can actually throw junpei just a bit in the air, just the right height for it to be impressive but not so high as to risk him actually hitting his head on the ceiling, indeed; and then he simply catches him in a hug as he falls, before setting him back down on his feet. ]
[Junpei makes a face and nods very seriously, like yeah, he doesn't want to be dropped either. He'd probably go face-first into the floor, or worse, desert sand if Charles decides to be funny in their hypothetical future meeting outside of this place.
Leaving aside that the rest of his psychic quantum friends could probably also, well, see Charles, Junpei's had too many drinks to apply that logic to eight more people.
He's also had too many drinks to get thrown in the air with dignity, even a toss this shallow; he swears and scrambles, all but clinging to Charles when he comes back down.
He does not let go when his feet touch the floor; he is owed an apology, nay, groveling.]
What the hell, [he says, into Charles' shoulder,] it's my birthday.
[ charles, in turn, just laughs for a moment, a sort of delighted laugh at the entire situation, at the way junpei is clinging to him still, the way he swears so sharply — and then he simply tightens his hold on him, tilting his head so he can speak close to his ear, voice low and with mirth but also genuinely apologetic, ] Sorry, sorry! Really. Didn't mean to startle you. Just — you're the one who wasn't happy with my party tricks, yeah?
[ and then, as if realising he's overlooked something, ] Oh, bloody hell. I never said happy birthday, did I? Well —
[ he runs his hands up and down his back a few times as if to reassure him still. his voice, low still, is warm. ]
[Ah, and that is - a lot of Charles, somehow more than when he lifted him up. The part of Junpei that manages to squeak out a logical thought, maybe let go and go sit down again, is drowned out almost completely by hands on his back and Charles' voice in his ear. He's only half listening to the words, even, huh...]
Thanks. I already forgave you for party tricks.
[Just, you know, in his head. Oop. After another moment he leans back to arms length, expression serious, like he has a real announcement to make.]
It's only kind of my birthday. My birthday's in February. I was, uh, [he holds up a hand to tap in a row in the air, which is supposed to mean calendar,] just counting from when I got here. It was New Year's back home, so it wasn't long.
[ it's maybe silly, the way he visibly perks up when hearing he's forgiven — not that, you know, he was too afraid of that not happening in the first place. and yet!
the sudden declaration about his actual birthday makes charles pause, adding the new information and rearranging what he'd already known — and then he just nods. ]
I mean, that's fine, innit? If you were still back home, you'd be celebrating now, so — [ he shrugs, as if this logic makes perfect sense to him. ]
It's weird anyway, jumping us to a different calendar entirely, yeah? Like — like we somehow missed some months in the middle. It would've been winter for me, too. [ a pause. ] 'Sides, this means we can just celebrate again when it's February here. [ his grin widens when a thought hits him — ] Oi, this means I can buy you a present twice! [ he sounds inordinately pleased by this. ]
Well, maybe. [Maybe he'd be celebrating, maybe he'd be doing Important Work, maybe he'd be slumped in a squeaky office chair in a dingy private investigator's office and bemoaning cold takeout - all of those, actually, because the many-worlds interpretation is real and accurate.
But maybe. He says it and then finds that he likes this particular "celebration" more than he might have expected, given the circumstances—kidnapped again, the past few weeks, etc. Many things suck terribly, also real and accurate, but Charles and the bag of drinks are not among them.
So like, 7/10 birthday.]
You really don't have to buy me stuff... [More stuff; he's including the drinks. And yet he will cherish all presents, anyway.] You said May, right? Just you wait until spring, or...
[Hang on. He's counting, squinting at nothing on the other side of the room as he does.] ...uh, October. Probably.
[ "maybe" may be (ha) his conclusion, but charles just shrugs again and says, ] Well, not for nothing, but I'm glad you're having your birthday here. Glad to get to celebrate it with you.
[ and then, adding, ] Yeah, I know. But I don't really spend money on myself, do I? Don't need food, and I can change clothes by thinking about it. So might as well spend it on something important.
[ he just says it all like it's obvious, matter-of-fact, his tone at once light and serious. then, watching junpei stare intently at absolutely nothing, and arrive at what is maybe the right corresponding month, he just chuckles and shakes his head. ] Sure, mate, if that makes you happy. [ he pauses. groans, ] Bloody hell, I'm gonna have to make some kind of corresponding calendar thing, to keep track of your dates and this place's dates.
[Ooh, something important, that's just enough to spark something warm in his chest. He scoffs and looks down, failing to stifle a pleased grin.]
Okay, you win, but you should know in advance, I haven't had a birthday party since I was eight, and it was supposed to be a pool party, and it rained the whole time. I am a novice at real celebrating.
[As for this calendar idea of his, that's... not a bad idea? Junpei raises an eyebrow, like, well, they do already have two points of reference: New Year's 2029 and this pseudobirthday of his; it surely wouldn't take that long at all to make the rest of the year.
So now that he's already written off all the math as just whatever,] Could make a desk calendar... like, with riddles and stuff on each day?
[ the words are accompanied by a bright, sincere grin — sorry, his friendship doesn't come without unwavering belief and affirming words of support! it's what you signed up for, junpei, even if you didn't know it at the time.
and then he just has to blink in bafflement at the way the conversation goes from calendars to riddles — ] Wait, riddles?
[ sounds... strange, but because he's, as previously established, a supportive friend, ] I mean, sure. Just — there's already two dates per day, yeah? [ why are they... making it more difficult.... ]
[Now, in fairness, Junpei has never had a desk calendar himself, but he's seen desks and he's seen the miscellaneous gift fodder at the checkout line of every bookstore ever built, so why not make the world's most unwieldy calendar.]
It can have today's date here, sub-date whatever it is in the original calendar, sub-sub-info, How many bricks does it take to complete a brick building?
Edited (don't look at my late typo correction) 2024-08-06 22:36 (UTC)
[ in fact, their office in london does very much have a desk calendar, but it's a normal, boring one with holidays marked on it — both normal holidays and those of different cultures and time periods, just in case. you never know when you need to know that the third tuesday of a particular month just so happened to be a significant celebration to a subset of irish fae.
instead of explaining this, though, charles just tilts his head in consideration. ]
So like, one of those big ones? You need the paper pad ones, one-a-day calendar experience.
[These are the only calendars that exist in Junpei's mind, so obviously, switch to the one that lets you look forward to tearing a piece of paper every day, which will never in a million years also make you think about the futility of your day job and also of trying to do good.
That kind of calendar. He holds his fingers up in a rectangle, for emphasis. That kind.
[ he's about to try and explain that one-a-day calendars are a bit weird when you're a ghost and sometimes your best friend forgets about the passing of time when he gets really into studying ancient dead languages and one time spent five weeks immersed in books and charles had already been bored out of his mind then and if he'd had to tear away one calendar page per day he might have chucked himself into a lake —
and then junpei just sort of off-handedly delivers the punchline to his joke-slash-riddle, and any words charles has just promptly dissolve into laughter. ]
I hate you, [ he says, in the tone of someone who couldn't possibly mean it less. shaking his head, he looks around, and seems to finally realise they're still standing up. ] Oh, hell, should we sit down? Like, not on the floor? Can't be good for you, that, or comfortable.
[He's got more! Not enough to fill a calendar, probably, but there's more where that came from. He follows Charles' look around the room, like, oh yeah... he is upright indeed.]
Standing isn't good for me...? I could sit. I could have another drink, too.
[He didn't entirely finish the last one, but it's somewhere else now, so please pick him another drink (birthday privilege) while he shuffles backwards to sit on the edge of the bed.]
Hey. What part of the chicken has the most feathers?
he can be two things
[Which is just as good a purpose as selling for millions, maybe, kind of—
Junpei settles back against the wall again, picking up the beer that was definitely not supposed to be a prop and definitely not forgotten about for art club just now, and - considers more quantum mechanics, so it's really any other afternoon of a day ending in -y.]
You mean, when you get to 2029, could you find me being pissed off in the middle of the desert? Dunno.
[Fun thought experiment, almost!! Junpei's understanding of time after all that's happened is that linearity is a matter of perspective and everything else only makes sense after someone else explains it to you a handful of times. And then that's only a "sort of"...]
There's no reason they couldn't be the same. They don't teach you how to find out in quantum school, mostly because quantum school doesn't exist.
[He shrugs, like, unfortunately that's the best he can do, and it comes with it the implication that "no they're not" is just as likely as "yes they are." But why not choose the option that feels a little less lonely, just because? It's harmless.]
cute and cringe is the new black
he nods, then, because that's exactly what he's asking — and, okay, so maybe it's a good thing junpei doesn't try to explain the linearity aspect of it all (or non-linearity, or whatever), because he likely wouldn't get it... but he does get the important part: that if it falls squarely in the middle of "possible" and "impossible", well, he knows what his choice is going to be. ]
So that's five years, then. [ he nods, again, this time almost more to himself than anything else. five years? yeah, he can do five years. ]
Right, that's not bad. I can mirror hop anywhere, you know, I think I could find you just by — [ he gives his hand a little wave, as if to say, knowing you. ] And you've probably had enough near-death experiences that you'd be able to see me. Or if not, I could always just haunt you, leave you notes, that kinda stuff.
trendsetting.....
Like a normal time travel—thing. Five years. He's mid-sip when he chokes a little, sputtering and hastily covering his mouth. Enough near-death experiences, christ, that shouldn't make him laugh and yet here he is—]
Do you want another list?
[He can probably remember, buuut maybe later. Yeah, he's pretty sure he can see ghosts whenever he wants, these days.]
Don't, like, not leave me notes, though. I can pretend it's a regular haunting.
he's the moment he's the movement
junpei choking next to him over his choice of words is — well, a bit concerning but also quite funny, but charles bites back his chuckle because the words that come next leave him nothing but earnest and serious when he answers, ] Only if you want to tell me. But if you want, then yeah. Course.
[ now, in the future, whenever — it doesn't really matter. junpei's listened to him share the shit that he's been through, of course he wants to return the favour. and more than that... whatever it is about his past that junpei feels like sharing, charles is happy to hear it.
well. maybe not, like, literally happy because he's pretty sure multiple near-death experiences will not make him happy, but, you know.
the comment about notes, though? that does make him happy. he chuckles as he nods. ] Sure. Not sure if that'll make you seem more or less mental when people see you talking to thin air, but it does make for cool party tricks. You know, like scissors walking on their own on the desk, papers flying about... [ his voice takes on an edge of mischief, ] I could probably lift you and you could pretend to know how to levitate.
i'm burying myself at sea
They've really got to talk about different hobbies. And it won't be right now. Still:]
You're going to need diagrams. Give me a little while, okay?
[It's not really a question because he knows Charles will give him the time; just, you know. He'll get there sooner or later.
Here and now and hypothetically five years in the future but only for one of them (this is why he'll need the diagrams to explain everything, eventually), these are some fascinating party tricks being proposed, especially, uh. Picking him up? Like, just carrying him around?
Junpei looks very studiously at his beer and thinks, huh, maybe he shouldn't dwell too much on that thought right now, so—]
You think you can pick me up? [ah fuck failed step one, welp,] What, just 'cause you're taller than me?
the way i went "oh god" and then immediately segued into "i can make this worse"
and then — well, here's the thing: if there's one thing to know about charles rowland, it's that you can never, ever give him a challenge. because he absolutely cannot and will not back down from it, and so when junpei says you think you can pick me up —
charles grins. it's not a particularly reassuring grin.
and really, junpei's right to have doubts: charles, with his build that can only be described as "slight", his wiry, lanky muscles that don't even seem particularly defined, looks for all the world like someone who wouldn't be your first pick for, well, picking someone up. ]
No, [ he says in response, ] Because I'm the brawn part of our agency.
[ he's pushed himself into a squat between one heartbeat and the next, and then he's sliding one arm under junpei's legs and one behind his back and saying, ] Leave the beer, [ before quite simply scooping him up in a full-on bridal carry right there, and then just rising up from his squat to his full height like it's absolutely no effort at all.
once he's fully upright, he just beams at junpei, though it's a tad smug. ]
oh good!! i'm burying us both at sea!!
Not that he's admitting there was bait. He says,] Uh.
[And then, just as smartly,] Wait, what?
[To his credit he does put the beer down, albeit hastily and with an almost disastrous wobble, and then oh yep yeah he's up in the air, alright, this is— Well! This is something! If Junpei wobbles next it's because he's had 2-point-something drinks, and he pinwheels one of his arms for a few seconds before he's certain Charles isn't going to tip them both over.
He's abruptly unsure of what to do with his hands, so he folds his arms and sighs; show off... not impressive at all... stop giving him that look. His traitorous ears are going to catch fire they're so red, he can tell. Jeez.]
Well, it's not going to pass for levitating.
yep yep yep
[ said in a tone that's also very much not reassuring. and — yeah, actually, it does seem like junpei can just say things and charles will simply do as instructed, or suggested, quite simply, without even thinking about it.
which is why with a shrug (and the movement makes him jostle junpei a bit in his arms), charles bends his knees to let junpei stand on his own feet again, though only for a second; his hand on his back moves to his waist, joined by his other hand, and he just lifts.
holding him up in the air is just as effortless like this, only, they're pretty much eye level with each other like this and it's easier for charles to give him a challenging smirk, raising his brows. ]
Better? [ you know, to imitate levitating. ]
my eyes are shut in shame
Uh, what—
[Hello, being lifted by the waist is a brand new experience that comes with a moment of shocked sputtering and a fresh flush of color in his cheeks. He grabs Charles's shoulders automatically so as not to flip over or something - not that that's possible, but underneath the first response of bwuh??? that's what his brain provides.
So he's handling this deftly. After a beat of mild boggling he looks down with a thoughtful hum, as if he's checking out the viability of this for levitating. Hmm, hmm...]
It's like... amateur theater special effects level levitating, now. Technically better.
at least junpei has the excuse of being, like, somewhat drunk - charles has none. smh
that doesn't stop him from briefly worrying about dropping junpei, though, now that he's holding him in a less secure way, and so (instead of, you know, setting him back on the floor like might be the expected move, the smart move) he takes a step back, then another, braces himself by leaning against the wall while keeping their position otherwise the same.
and then he just grins fondly and rolls his eyes, as if to say, well now you're just being difficult on purpose. ]
Yeah? Just technically, is it. All right, what do you suggest, then?
he's pretty, he doesn't need an excuse
It's very specific. He drums his fingers on Charles' shoulders in mock seriousness.]
Wires? [A beat.] No, wait, that's actual amateur theater. Let me think.
[...But is he thinking or is he just looking at Charles, that's the real question. It's a hassle to be difficult on purpose for too long, and yet, Charles keeps giving him that look, the look of letting him get away with it. Another power he should not have.]
Have you ever seen that movie with the, uh, big dance lift? Don't do that in here, I'll whack my head on the ceiling light, but that might work.
[Only the lift part, specifically, as Junpei overestimates his ability to not flop uselessly like a levitating fish in this scenario.]
being pretty only takes you so far and he passed that like twenty tags ago
anyway. he makes a considering hum at the suggestion. ] Huh, yeah, maybe. I mean, might be a stretch for me, that... I don't wanna drop you.
[ said like that's the biggest issue with that particular move. he glances back at junpei, though, and realising that he probably should let him down — well. edwin doesn't call him impetuous for nothing — ]
Could do this, though, [ he says and promptly lifts his arms sharply to get momentum so he can actually throw junpei just a bit in the air, just the right height for it to be impressive but not so high as to risk him actually hitting his head on the ceiling, indeed; and then he simply catches him in a hug as he falls, before setting him back down on his feet. ]
damn, arrested for pretty boy crimes
Leaving aside that the rest of his psychic quantum friends could probably also, well, see Charles, Junpei's had too many drinks to apply that logic to eight more people.
He's also had too many drinks to get thrown in the air with dignity, even a toss this shallow; he swears and scrambles, all but clinging to Charles when he comes back down.
He does not let go when his feet touch the floor; he is owed an apology, nay, groveling.]
What the hell, [he says, into Charles' shoulder,] it's my birthday.
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[ and then, as if realising he's overlooked something, ] Oh, bloody hell. I never said happy birthday, did I? Well —
[ he runs his hands up and down his back a few times as if to reassure him still. his voice, low still, is warm. ]
Happy birthday, Junpei. And sorry, honest.
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Thanks. I already forgave you for party tricks.
[Just, you know, in his head. Oop. After another moment he leans back to arms length, expression serious, like he has a real announcement to make.]
It's only kind of my birthday. My birthday's in February. I was, uh, [he holds up a hand to tap in a row in the air, which is supposed to mean calendar,] just counting from when I got here. It was New Year's back home, so it wasn't long.
[Please agree that this is a normal thing to do.]
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the sudden declaration about his actual birthday makes charles pause, adding the new information and rearranging what he'd already known — and then he just nods. ]
I mean, that's fine, innit? If you were still back home, you'd be celebrating now, so — [ he shrugs, as if this logic makes perfect sense to him. ]
It's weird anyway, jumping us to a different calendar entirely, yeah? Like — like we somehow missed some months in the middle. It would've been winter for me, too. [ a pause. ] 'Sides, this means we can just celebrate again when it's February here. [ his grin widens when a thought hits him — ] Oi, this means I can buy you a present twice! [ he sounds inordinately pleased by this. ]
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But maybe. He says it and then finds that he likes this particular "celebration" more than he might have expected, given the circumstances—kidnapped again, the past few weeks, etc. Many things suck terribly, also real and accurate, but Charles and the bag of drinks are not among them.
So like, 7/10 birthday.]
You really don't have to buy me stuff... [More stuff; he's including the drinks. And yet he will cherish all presents, anyway.] You said May, right? Just you wait until spring, or...
[Hang on. He's counting, squinting at nothing on the other side of the room as he does.] ...uh, October. Probably.
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[ and then, adding, ] Yeah, I know. But I don't really spend money on myself, do I? Don't need food, and I can change clothes by thinking about it. So might as well spend it on something important.
[ he just says it all like it's obvious, matter-of-fact, his tone at once light and serious. then, watching junpei stare intently at absolutely nothing, and arrive at what is maybe the right corresponding month, he just chuckles and shakes his head. ] Sure, mate, if that makes you happy. [ he pauses. groans, ] Bloody hell, I'm gonna have to make some kind of corresponding calendar thing, to keep track of your dates and this place's dates.
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Okay, you win, but you should know in advance, I haven't had a birthday party since I was eight, and it was supposed to be a pool party, and it rained the whole time. I am a novice at real celebrating.
[As for this calendar idea of his, that's... not a bad idea? Junpei raises an eyebrow, like, well, they do already have two points of reference: New Year's 2029 and this pseudobirthday of his; it surely wouldn't take that long at all to make the rest of the year.
So now that he's already written off all the math as just whatever,] Could make a desk calendar... like, with riddles and stuff on each day?
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[ the words are accompanied by a bright, sincere grin — sorry, his friendship doesn't come without unwavering belief and affirming words of support! it's what you signed up for, junpei, even if you didn't know it at the time.
and then he just has to blink in bafflement at the way the conversation goes from calendars to riddles — ] Wait, riddles?
[ sounds... strange, but because he's, as previously established, a supportive friend, ] I mean, sure. Just — there's already two dates per day, yeah? [ why are they... making it more difficult.... ]
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[Now, in fairness, Junpei has never had a desk calendar himself, but he's seen desks and he's seen the miscellaneous gift fodder at the checkout line of every bookstore ever built, so why not make the world's most unwieldy calendar.]
It can have today's date here, sub-date whatever it is in the original calendar, sub-sub-info, How many bricks does it take to complete a brick building?
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[ in fact, their office in london does very much have a desk calendar, but it's a normal, boring one with holidays marked on it — both normal holidays and those of different cultures and time periods, just in case. you never know when you need to know that the third tuesday of a particular month just so happened to be a significant celebration to a subset of irish fae.
instead of explaining this, though, charles just tilts his head in consideration. ]
Well? [ don't leave him in suspense like this! ]
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[These are the only calendars that exist in Junpei's mind, so obviously, switch to the one that lets you look forward to tearing a piece of paper every day, which will never in a million years also make you think about the futility of your day job and also of trying to do good.
That kind of calendar. He holds his fingers up in a rectangle, for emphasis. That kind.
And as an afterthought,] Oh— just one.
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and then junpei just sort of off-handedly delivers the punchline to his joke-slash-riddle, and any words charles has just promptly dissolve into laughter. ]
I hate you, [ he says, in the tone of someone who couldn't possibly mean it less. shaking his head, he looks around, and seems to finally realise they're still standing up. ] Oh, hell, should we sit down? Like, not on the floor? Can't be good for you, that, or comfortable.
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[He's got more! Not enough to fill a calendar, probably, but there's more where that came from. He follows Charles' look around the room, like, oh yeah... he is upright indeed.]
Standing isn't good for me...? I could sit. I could have another drink, too.
[He didn't entirely finish the last one, but it's somewhere else now, so please pick him another drink (birthday privilege) while he shuffles backwards to sit on the edge of the bed.]
Hey. What part of the chicken has the most feathers?
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i'm closing my eyes
see no evil hear no evil--
what's gayer, being gay or whatever they're doing now
theyre the "homosexuality doesn't even begin to explain the behaviour these men are exhibiting" meme
that & clown to clown communication... 🎀