networkinthenight | [audio] @silver; Backdated to the fifth [open]

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[audio] @silver; Backdated to the fifth [open]

[Someone had been around the docks when...all of that happened, broken an arm, and spent the following days snugly shut up tight in her house. Not a weakness she wants on display, of course, but she's angry, and having been in no useful condition for supply-regathering isn't much of a boon to her pride. But a handful of days shut up are little better.]

Couple things, just, quick.

Couldn't stick around the ferry and people's chief concern seems to have been food, which is fine, but I'm wondering if anyone got gardening supplies, and if those made it? I've mentioned it in passing to a handful, but especially given the exact worry I had was just proven right, no excuse to not be proactive anymore. We have good gardening types here, and it's better for the town as a whole if we can set a couple plots up...immediately? Fast as possible. A couple of small greenhouses are kind of a must at this point too. I'm not really up to building and clearing condition right now, so anybody brave enough to turn soil and move rocks and handle basic construction, drop me a line. People I talked to before, uh, the same I guess? We can divvy up who goes where, five people per square foot's a bad spread of resources.

Second thing - I'm getting the impression nobody's liking those flowers very much. [She's...largely unperturbed. Distressingly accustomed, at this point. Were the month not getting off on such a broken foot she'd be amused.] If it's crippling and you're desperate for something, stop by and I can give you a little cone to breathe through. Plague doctor-style, but tiny. Cute. [Deadpan:] You'll look like little birds, and it'll smell like pine.

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Even if nothing came in on the ferry there ought to be something...scroungeable.

Ain't hard to make, Matt. Paper, rubber band, filling. I'll run one over. Tree bothered any?

I'm sure. I'll keep an eye out. Metaphorically.

You don't have to do that, but I get the sense you're going to anyway. ( why won't people let him refuse their nice gestures in Beacon??? smh!!! ) If you leave it on the porch I'll get it when I can.

( he phrases that like he's out and about, when he's definitely been holed up since the smell started. )

Headfirst in its flowerpot. Even after I moved it inside.

I am, matter of fact! [As in, currently! Hear that door shutting, Matt? She's a-comin'.] No sense going without it when it's so noticeable.

Bringing two - see if the poor thing'll be any better off for it, Fall's too pretty to waste in a pot.

( he does hear the scuttling, and that makes if harder to answer, because of the chance she'll hear it. not the tablet itself; Matt can hear it on the quietest setting, where it's barely more than a hum to most. his voice doesn't actually get that quiet (though not for lack of trying), and it could give him away. she'd really have to listen for him, though. he's a quiet guy. )

Might be interesting to try and teach the spirit to use it, but I'll try. It does like to mimic what I do, it might work.

Fall, huh?

You'll both look really, really professional, I love it.

[Implicit: she will want pictures.]

--Is it home alone right now?

( misty, don't be ridiculous. he's blind, he can't take a picture to save his life! which is so sad, he can't keep a tree baby scrapbook :(

she's gotta come for him like this, doesn't she. making him admit the TRUTH and A WEAKNESS. at the same time no less. )

We're both home. I'm taking to the smell only a little better than the spirit sleeping with its head underground.

If you leave it, I'll pick it up when I can.

[She will take the photos, don't worry Matt, not a hair on your head. It will be mighty.

And yes, she absolutely is.]

Ahhhh, I see. Understandable enough, I can see it upsetting some stomachs. Guess I got lucky for this one. That sensitive, though? Ain't like opening the door now or tomorrow would smell much different--

[A knock. Shave-and-a-hair-cut - TWO-BITS.]

( misty. for real. this is how you get Matt to puke on your shoes.

he considers ignoring it. honestly, he does. she's probably not going to bust down a locked door... right? Matt doesn't like to even hint at weakness, so showing someone how sick he really is? not something he was planning on doing today. it takes him awhile to answer, but that's because he has to drag his sorry ass out of bed to do it.

it's a hint of how little he agrees about how bad the smell will be when he answers through the door. )

I'll open it, but come in quickly. ( he's gone through a great deal of effort to try and reduce the amount of smell in here, just to try and exist in bearable misery. opening the door will certainly let plenty of the reek through, and he wants to limit how much. )

[Be strong, for tree baby.]

Count from three, going on one. [Answered quickly and perhaps a little too cheerily; it's nice not being markedly more put off than someone else for once. But she's a merciful soul, putting perhaps too much faith in what she assumes is an ordinary blind person. Once she can see inside, she'll teleport in, close enough it could almost have read as a jump.]

Proud of you.

( answered like someone who was totally onto his bullshit from the get-go, though the fact she was so persistent about getting him the handmade mask is sort of a big hint that she had his number before he even realized there was counting going on.

Matt grimaces, but mostly it's because he knows the smell is going to be worse once he opens it. he must really like you, Misty... he pulls his sweater over his face and presses it against his mouth and nose and opens the door with his other hand, just enough for someone about Misty-sized to enter.

and he closes it the second he can sense her next to him, even if... he didn't... hear her move. weird. there's a tuck in his brow, though soon that involuntary tick of confusion is replaced with the genuine distortion of his expression at the smell. it takes all he has not to lose what is left in his stomach, which is... well, not much, but it'd still be gross. all in all, the nausea is a good distraction. )

Proud? ( for opening a door? if it's for admitting he's sick as a dog, that makes one of them. oh, yeah, he's still covering his face. sorry, Misty, it's not you... it's the rotting flesh smell you brought in with you... )

[She does sincerely appreciate the pains being taken. Magic has been busted out for approximately zero things beyond a concentrated effort for her currently broken arm, this is something of an inner circle.]

Opening up at all - holding a conversation, from this perspective. [Were he any less...abundantly uncomfortable, this would be funny. Alas, it only prompts an immediate shake of mask to indicate where he can grab for it.] I was picturing more...annoyance. Holding up okay?

( he can smell the reprieve well enough that the shake is unnecessary, though it's a good excuse for how easy it is to grab. maybe it's still a bit too easy, though she's close enough and the sound was distinct enough that it's only a little uncanny. especially when he's not wearing his sunglasses — the vacancy of his expression gives away his blindness, even as his easy motions contradict it. )

I was genuinely considering ignoring you for a good ten seconds. ( there's some annoyance, though ultimately... ) I could tell it wouldn't work.

( her no-nonsense rejection of every attempt to avoid her reminds him distinctly of Foggy. Foggy would probably not have even bothered knocking and just busted in. Matt honestly wouldn't put that past Misty, either. he uses the mask over the fabric, not exactly inclined to pull it down while he's still so close to the stink from the door. his house is pitch dark, Misty will notice — Matt slinks away from the worst of the smell, figuring she'll follow. ) I've been worse. I can't keep much down, hopefully these awful things fade in the next few days. You must have a stronger stomach than I do.

( and a much less sensitive sense of smell, though Matt isn't going to mention that part. )

[It is, fortunately or not, very easily understood as someone who has had a great deal of time to adjust. Surprising, but in the lax way someone revealing they're double jointed is surprising. For now. She grins.]

It wouldn't have. I'm glad you made the right call. [Leaving them outside would have largely defeated the point, and also he's been nothing but pleasant to her, and that's like feeding a stray cat. He's stuck with this now. Follow she does, grateful she keeps her lantern on one hip - the mundane paranoia of tripping is ever present. A brief stab is taken at levity,] I mean, I try not to brag about it, but...[That then slips just as neatly back around to relentlessly firm focus.] How much is 'not much', exactly? You're not much of a glutton to start with.

( well, he'd have braved getting it at some point. especially thinking about the poor mandrake spirit sleeping with a face full of dirt. Matt is happy to leave himself to suffer, it's the catholic in him. he's more like to worry about everybody else. the especially small get to him the most.

Matt is not worried about tripping, he moves easily and drops into a dusty chair that's been in the place since before he moved in. all in all, it smells terrible. but dusty and musty is a preferable smell to death and dying, so he'll take it. )

We don't need to eat as much here. If this passes in the next few days, it'll be fine. ( he looks ridiculous, with his sweater pulled over his face and a baby beak over his nose, and he just makes it worse with a dark lifted eyebrow. he looks like a muppet, basically. ) I didn't realize you were keeping such a detailed eye on me, Misty. ( he's not mad, per se. just noting what he's observed. )

[She doubts leaving it outside would have done anything good for its potency, which is a large portion of why she was going to end up inside regardless. Neatly situating herself on or against the nearest flat surface, she indulges in a lip-biting pause. Because he does look hilarious, and she wants to be well past that before she tries to speak. There's still a somewhat audible smile in her tone, when she does.]

Eating a third of what you should eat at home might get you by, but it's still not great, is it? [She tries when she can to conduct herself as if they're home. Save the resilience for when she needs it, rather than let it become habit.] Not creepily detailed, I promise. Strangers in a strange, dangerous place - have to keep a detailed eye on everything. I'd like it if you didn't starve.

I'm not going to starve. ( he doesn't eat much, but why should he? he doesn't have to, and at present they're at a food shortage anyway. it's more sensible to avoid eating if he can, and he has no interest in eating at the moment anyway. he'll catch up when he can keep food down — it's a waste to eat until then.

he can hear her amusement, and can more or less guess where it's coming from. the mask provides such relief that he can't even feel insecure. ) If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were this close to laughing at me. ( despite feeling disgusting and more than a little ridiculous, Matt himself sounds more amused than anything. he's used to people treating him as incapable, even when he doesn't play up how blind he is. that doesn't mean he dislikes actually being treated like a normal person, despite it.

and let's be real, he doesn't need to see to know he looks hilarious. )

Hyperbole. Is it wrong to prefer seeing people full? Cooking can only fill so much time when it's just me. [There's too many hours to kill and not enough to do - letting her shove food at him would be a public service. She clears her throat, however, as he calls the obvious to attention. Tries to speak without letting the truth to it show.]

Never at you, you look very handsome-- [And that's true, but as far as she can get before her focus has to shift to smothering her laughter with her hands. It's a respectably short fit. Well-intentioned.] It's just the sweater that does it, I was ready for the mask and I know you're not feeling great - but the sweater--

[This is the happiest she's been all month. Thank you, Matt.]

It isn't wrong, you'd just be better served feeding someone that can keep it down. ( once the worst of the smell is over, he's far more likely to take her up on the offer. he doesn't like to cook, even if he can. he appreciates her willingness to feed him, it isn't even something he avoids for sake of not overly relying on anyone.

then again, until they know whether they'll ever get a replacement for the ferry, he does intend to only eat as much as he needs to get by. once the food shortage is over, he'll go back to eating a bit more normally. (for Matt. probably not normal for anybody else... smh)

handsome seems a large stretch, he can guess he looks terrible. it'd only be fair because he feels terrible, too. the sweater pulled half over his face and the cone nose, it's a whole look. the only thing he's missing is his sunglasses, he'd look like Gonzo in disguise with them on. ) I'm glad my misery has brought you such joy, Misty. It makes one of us. ( the words could sound snippy, but he's mostly just amused.

it's honest, if at his expense. most people would pretend not to be amused instead of admitting it, and Matt prefers honest. and he thinks she might have needed the laugh. )

I can give a day or two, but at the absolute least I'd have to start on you about snacks.

[Team Hermit is allowed to die in dumb ways, but preferably more...action-oriented than this. Even this incredibly valid excuse will only hold her off for so long.

He's handsome! Just in a 'two minutes from vomiting and looking unfortunately goofy' way that's a little amusing and prompts some worrying. A 'not my day' kind of handsome. Her smiles remains fixed in place and deeply sympathetic.] Not the misery, just the sweater-and-cone-on-face look is really...at odds? You seem sharp usually, and the contrast is-- [A goddamn delight. Thank you.]

I fully expect you to do the same to me if I'm ever in a position that warrants it. Demand, even!

These things can't last much longer. If they do, I'll eat my words. And apparently snacks. ( he appreciates not having them pushed on him now. as much as he'd like to eat, he knows it's a bit of a pointless venture. if Matt can't will his stomach to settle through sheer force of will, nobody can. he's resigned to it at this point.

Misty clearly doesn't know the dangers of calling Matthew handsome. he's the last person that needs to be told, he already knows, and takes advantage of the fact constantly. there's a reason he always looks "sharp"! ) I'll have you know I've sacrificed my vanity for the sake of hospitality, and this is the thanks I get. ( the alternative to keeping his face covered is losing what's left of whatever in his stomach, which has got to be at least slightly frowned upon host behavior. not that he's an expert on having company, but even he knows you're not supposed to vomit when guests are over. )

It's hard for me to laugh at someone's appearance, but if you'd paint a verbal picture for me, then it's a deal. ( if anything being forced to explain why you look ridiculous in great detail is probably more embarrassing than just looking ridiculous, he's getting the top end of the bargain here. )

Tons, and healthy ones. You'll know no peace.

[Don't be vain, Matt! But her grin remains firmly fixed in place, evidently feeling comfortable enough to jokingly keep this ground.] Pretty good thanks! Heartfelt, and happier than anyone ought to be in this place. And complimentary, I'm not saying you look anything but well put together.

Annnnd-- deal. More than fair. Anything else you think'll put you in this state? Might be good to have an idea going forward.

( Misty, it's too late for that. it's like the one sin he doesn't seem that fussed about, and the only one he commits more is the whole lying to everyone he knows thing.

the fact that she seems like she needs the laugh, and Beacon is so short on anything even remotely worth laughing about, is a big reason Matt doesn't mind being the butt of the joke. he's a lot of things, and lot of them are pretty questionable. but under all his flaws, he does quite genuinely want people to be happy. he likes making people happy. ) A woman laughing at me is supposed to be complimentary? ( he asks, tone wry, but just because she can't see his mouth, doesn't mean she won't know he's smiling. he is.

was there anything else that would cause him to react like this? it's a bit of a loaded question for Matt, who doesn't like to talk about his weaknesses. to strangers, sometimes even to himself. the cat might be out of the metaphorical bag, but he's still going to be cagey about it. ) Hopefully not. I'm sensitive to smell, but this is worse than usual. The smell seems like it's everywhere.

( talking about the pervasiveness of the smell reminds Matt that he's not the only one in the house suffering. he sits up again, looking toward her. ) You said you were going to bring two, didn't you? We should try to convince the mandrake to wear one. ( if she didn't, Matt will let the poor thing have his... even though admittedly, it's been nice to have the first thing his palette can sense be something not resembling rotting corpse. he'd still give it up for the poor spirit that is face first in dirt to avoid the stink, though. what a good plant dad. )

[Were the smile not evident, she would of course be apologizing. Until and unless he comes across genuinely offended, however, there's still the scant titter tucked between pleased-sounding words.] Just at the current expression, and I'd say making my week is a special kind of compliment, yeah.

Let me know if anything else kicks up the same dust down the line, yeah? Prefer you in working order, my own peace of mind and knowing there's someone around with a little common sense.

[Fortunately, he is freed of much further needling by more important matters:] I brought two, yeah! How much convincing are you expecting it'll take?

( Matt likes to think he has common sense. in execution it's sort of arguable. he was sitting here in the dark sick and miserable over admitting he could use some help, after all... though Misty likely knows that and is once again playing to his vanity. damn her!!!

two can play at the distracting weakness game. Matt's weakness is vanity and Misty's is an adorable tree baby. he's shaken her scrutiny, at least for now, by playing to her soft witchy heart. he nods up the stairs, indicating that is where the mandrake is. ) I'm told it likes to copy me, so hopefully it can be convinced. ( his bedroom is darker than the downstairs, though it's also where he keeps his lantern, which means there's a little light to go by.

there's obvious attempts to improve the smell near the bed — some herbs stuffed in the crack of the window, and some open boxes of tea scattered around the room. it doesn't help much, but at least a little. the flowerpot is by a bureau, and the mandrake is distinctly headfirst in the dirt, which is both adorable and sad. he sits down on the floor and rubs a hand along the spirit's back. ) I know it smells, stringbean, but Misty brought something for you. ( the baby just buries deeper in the dirt. Misty might have to do some convincing of her own.

also, yes. Matt does have it in him to use adorable petnames. just not on most people. )

[At least for now, indeed. There's hardly time for her to consider as much herself, as the window for thought firmly shuts with that pet name. Truly, Matt has been humanized to hell and back on this day. She settles into a crouch, within arm's reach of the pot but not quite encroaching.]

It smells like trees! [Said with her usual bounce, and an ounce of extra enthusiasm as one must often take on to authentically encourage someone.] Needles right off the pine, and it looks cute, and Matt's got one to match! And it's a lot better now, right Matt?

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catholicisms - 2019-10-27 00:22 (UTC) - Expand

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