snowblindrpg | [log] Comorbidity [closed]

Characters: John Watson, Death the Kid, Franken Stein, and Undertaker
Location House 58
Date: Night 171
Summary: This is a house with a lot of problems in it. Watson, Kid, and Stein run into Undertaker for the night.
Warnings: Possible talk of death, morbid discussions.

[A simple single-story building, the snow weighs uneasily on it, and it creaks and groans under the strain at the best of times. It's very dark, and only the kitchen and living room are intact. The kitchen has a back door. Two snowmen have been built outside. A message has been written on the wall in blue ink: "Don't wreck the snowmen! That's super mean!" "ALPHONSE ELRIC, MAMI TOMOE, FREYA CRESCENT, GREED, EDWARD ELRIC, STEPHANIE BROWN, DAY FORTY ONE, TRAVELLING EAST." has been carved into one of the walls. The following has been written on the wall in blue pen: "This is Building 95 97 on the composite map. Contact @CaptSteveRogers for details." Underneath this is a fairly accurate map showing the house in relation to the school and buildings 29, 35, 35, 37, 40, 41, 47, 48, 50, 53. House 34 is labeled "Medical assistance; hot, clean water. Contact Dr. Epps @claytonator". The school is labeled "School. Food available in cafeteria; DO NOT STAY HERE OVERNIGHT." The shed is labeled "Shed".]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Oh, that's... almost sort of sad. Sherlock hadn't shown nearly as much emotion when talking about Watson. But then again, Undertaker supposes he wouldn't.]

He seemed fine. Had me try to get the lockers open in the morgue for him, but... I'm still working on my end of our bargain.

[Sherlock is always 'fine' until he isn't, so that tells John very little of substance.]

He mentioned he wasn't able to get the lockers open. Bad luck, that. [John frowns thoughtfully.] I'm sure we'll sort out a way. [He sighs.] I just hope it doesn't involve explosives.

Mm, now there's an iii~dea! [Which is not at all the response Watson was probably looking for. But Undertaker seems very interested in it.]

If it went south, at least you'd go out with a bang. ^Hee hee~

I didn't think you were much of a fan of puns.

I'm not. [Which he manages to say completely straight-faced. Despite the fact that his chosen pronoun is a pun, the dirty liar.]

Mm... [Enjoy John's mildly disbelieving, but amused look, Undertaker.] We'll try some other options before that. I've had one too many deaths for a lifetime.

Does that put you at two, then?

This was my first time. A person should only die once.

Ah-hah. [The way Watson had phrased it made it sound the opposite, but now he gets it.]

That's usually the case, you're right.

S'pose that means I just have to live forever now.

[He offers the other man a wry smile.]

[He knows it's a joke, but the smile he reflects back is a bit more hollow.]

^Hee hee... Forever is quite a long time. You sure you won't get bored?

Well, I know a vampire. Reckon he's got a few tips on that front.

Ah, right! Someone else mentioned them... I should chat them up, sometime. Might be fun, you know?

For a given value of it. His name is Beckett. Mnemosyne on the network. He's not the most cheerful bloke, fair warning.

That's no problem. I'm sure we'll get along just fine.

[Beckett will probably hate him.]

[John raises a brow.]

You're awfully optimistic given your profession.

[And Undertaker will finally eat the last nugget he's been holding onto all this time, using it to gesture along with his words until he pops it into his mouth.]

Why, because most of my clients are already deceased? I do have some people skills, you know~

I wonder which is more important to a vampire?

Given that Mr. Beckett isn't one to stand on manners, I'd guess the former is something he'd at least find interesting.

We'll see, I suppose.

Mm... [John dips his head down for one last chicken nugget for himself, again turning his head away and covering with his arm politely. Once he's done, he looks over at the other man before asking quietly:]

Could you... help me close the bag. [He nods down to the one with the chicken nuggets. Then adds hastily:] I can do it myself. It'd just be faster. [John shrugs and glances away. He doesn't really want to ask for help, but it seems silly not to now.]

[He can't help but chuckle at the request, any earlier spite he'd been carrying now dropped. Reaching over, he plucks the bag up on either side with his middle fingers and thumbs, pressing the air out before he rolls it closed.]

I'm drawing the line at helping you into bedclothes, though. One of your other companions'll have to deal with that. ^Hee hee~

[John huffs a laugh.]

Damn, y'know, I left my nightshirt in my other pack? Luckily, that means we won't have to deal with that. Thank you, Mr. Undertaker. [He cocks his head.] If I can ask... are you ever gonna tell anyone your real name here?

Wasn't planning on it. [He's still wearing his smile, but behind his bangs his eyes narrow ever so slightly despite keeping his voice casual.]

It's been so long since anyone's used it I forget it half the time, anyway.

[John shrugs and offers the other man an encouraging smile.]

Well, if you ever feel like remembering. Or if you ever need to just talk. Reckon I'm a decent listener when I'm not snapping and snarling. Try not to make a habit of that.

[Easier said than done, Watson.]

Oh, I dunno~ It's rather entertaining. But I'll keep it in mind.

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