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[themidnightson]

Edward's been absent the last few weeks.

No one on either side of the door should be that surprised -- as the bestest, sweetest, temptingest, not to mention most stubborn and obliviously noble, snack cake in the whole wide world was chained to a hospital bed in Forks Hospital which made the stalking and counting of breaths, er, we mean the care and and watching over of Isabella Swan as she recuperated from the events in Phoenix his high priority.

Today she was released to her father's keeping. For first time in weeks, Edward hadn't ignored the door with immortal (im)patience, which brought him to the supposed End of Time and Space. Where he's currently looking over a stack of notes and books the Bar delivered with his bottle of mineral water.

The top ones look like floor plans and some others like blank music paper, some not. And the ones falling through the air to the floor are long lists.

Comments

[thursdays_angel]

One of the pieces of paper catches enough of a tail wind to flutter to a landing near Castiel's left shoe.

It didn't have to fly far. He is standing quite close to Edward's table.

He picks the paper up, studying it with interest.

[themidnightson]

That one is a list of art supplies, not limited to a manikin doll and easel and intricate details for everything sketching to painting.

With truly astronomic prices. Even by Earth's standing.

[thursdays_angel]

"You are beginning a project?" Castiel asks.

His interest is piqued.

Castiel is prone to projects himself.

Even if he does not have much luck with paint.

[themidnightson]

Edward looked over, from reading the leaf inside one of the top books, toward the angel. If not surprised in the presence -- if he could not ignore sound, he really could not ignore the people who's presence was impossible to hear but not to feel, that almost hurt to focus toward -- he might be in the assumption that it registered with.

The edge of his lips twitched. "Those are for Alice. We're stocking a room here."

[thursdays_angel]

Castiel looks up with an expression of confusion.

".......stocking?"

"I do not understand."

[mandercommander.livejournal.com]

Bonzo waves to Edward as he notices said vampire sitting in the Bar. He notices the pile of papers (but not their contents) as he heads over to Edward's seat.

"Ho, Edward."

[themidnightson]

Edward looked up. It's not a smile, but a settling of ease in his countenance as he nodded his head.

"Bonzo."

[mandercommander.livejournal.com]

"How're you doing these days?"

And what're all of those papers on the table?

[themidnightson]

Tired. If he could be tired.
Tense. From letting her walk away.
Relieved. She's not in the hospital.


He nodded, just enough side to side. As though to say, he was doing mostly alright. "Mail call," he added, as though explaining in the same way, to start and to answer in one.

[cutting_edgex23]

X slips toward him, gaze flicking over the papers.

Her footsteps are silent, her mind -- not quite.

"You are working."

It's a careful observation, and maybe a little bit of a question, too.

[themidnightson]

"Collecting-" He corrected, though not harshly. "-mail."
There's a blase shrug more graceful than dancers could learn.

[cutting_edgex23]

"Oh."

X considers that.

Carefully.

"Why?"

It looks like work to her. Blame the floor plans.

[themidnightson]

The question she means and the one it sounds like. They're different to him, but he choose the first. The obvious. The one it doesn't need, before the other.

"I've been gone a while."

[reallyaduck]

"You dropped this, Edward-senpai!"

Duck retrieves one of the falling pieces of paper and hands it over to him, helpfully.

[themidnightson]

Edward manages something of a straight face, that somehow looks like it almost casts toward a beleaguered smirk without any shifted features when he finally looks up from reading the leaf of a book toward her.

He took the paper. "Thank you, Duck."

[reallyaduck]

"You're welcome!"

Duck shifts her weight from foot to foot, beaming. "So, uh . . . you look like you're doing a lotta work, huh!"

Stating the obvious: one of Duck's many skills!

[themidnightson]

"Apparently it has all been waiting for me."

There's an air of distaste to that by itself. Paperwork.

[ginsu_master]

Smokebomb!



Is that... is that a pirate in a cloud of smoke?

[themidnightson]

Edward managed to look a little more reluctantly bemused than surprised, eyebrows raising in reaction to the sudden appearance near him.

[pirate_jack]

Why, so it is.

*cough, choke*

"Come out here, you cowardly--"

*wheeze, wheeze, cough*

"--maggot-eared yeasty..."

Jack slices his sword sideways through the smoke and back again as he staggers across the floor, rubbing at his streaming eyes and smudging the kohl that lines them.

[ginsu_master]

Through the smoke, in the rafters, and several other directions, floats Leo's laugh.

"You keep repeating that."

There is a shadow off...that way?

"I don't think you know what it means."


Leo snatches Jack's hat from his head, and once more in to the breach, dear friends!

[electro_kinetic]

Noriko normally doesn't pay much attention to the things fluttering around here--she's a little tetchy with not wanting to make anyone too curious or too mad--but one of the lists brushes against her bare ankles.

She picks it up and looks over it, scanning the area around her to see who it came from. Edward, with the stack of notes and papers, looks likely. "D'you drop some of your papers?"

[themidnightson]

He looks up, almost reluctantly still reading something on another sheet, before finally settling his golden eyes on here and extending a hand.

"It likely is. My apologies."

[electro_kinetic]

She watches him pull away from the reading, and thinks for a half a second he has very pretty eyes, with that color. "'S nothing to apologize for," she says, handing it back with the hand that doesn't hurt when she thinks about curling it. If he's very observant, he might notice the burns in patches on her hands and places on her arms, the needle marks on her elbows she's actually trying to hide for once.

"Got a lot of stuff to read through?"

[themidnightson]

He doesn't react to the thought. It's not the only thing he usually has to deal with. And he's very observant to details, but whether it matters yet is neither here nor there.

He tucked the paper into one of the books.

"Mail held for me while I was gone."