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eugenides can steal anything ([info]i_stealanything) wrote in [info]we_coexist,
@ 2011-02-15 22:15:00

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Entry tags:charlie crews, eugenides

first order of business: breakfast (open to anyone!)
Eugenides discovered one other thing that morning: he didn't like coffee.

His face wrinkled as the bitter flavor swept over his tongue and he set it down on its small plate and pushed everything away from him, sending the tiny spoon clattering out of its place. Its warmth had been extremely welcome to his otherwise cold body but he never took it back.

In the meantime, he straightened his back and looked around. Only an hour ago, he discovered himself to be sleeping on the ground well away from the comforts of his bedroom and hadn't been at the peak of himself since. He was confused, he was cold, he was hungry and his body hurt where the ground met it. The diner (they called it one) had appeared to him seemingly out of the blue and before he knew it, he was stumbling inside, welcomed as the first customer of the day. It was coated in pale cream walls and the empty couches that filled the place were of the same shade, the tables basking in the natural brown of their wood which shined when the early sunlight hit it. Eugenides sat closest to the window parting the street from the interior and he found himself gazing at the brickwork and the cemented road for the sixth time in that hour. A wave of loneliness filled his chest like water in a hollowed space.

"Here you are," a female voice said.

He turned towards the bowl of cream chowder placed before him, bits and pieces of white meat and croutons peeking out the surface and he felt his stomach move at the scent of breakfast.

"It's not much but it's soup of the day!" she said brightly, tray pressed against her skirt. "Always the first thing we finish in the morning. Want some bread to go with it?"

Eugenides nodded to her, looking frail under the weight of his tattered brown cloak. "Yes," he said after.

"Right, I'll get you some," she said with a smile, a nod, and was off.

Eugenides returned his gaze to his background. It didn't take long for the waitress to return with half a bagel on a plate and she smiled to him sweetly again. "Well, eat up! Don't worry about paying, it's on the house."

I can pay, Eugenides had almost told her but decided to keep it to himself as he nodded to her and took up the spoon on the right side of the bowl by his left hand and began to stir his breakfast. Better to keep his money for as long as he can and act as he dressed. It would come as a surprise, after all, if she saw him revealing a healthy wad of bills from his mice-nibbled cloak pocket, both of which he stole from no less than two people in the same hour.

Eagerly, he slurped his breakfast and chewed the chicken meat. Warmth washed over his body and he didn't waste time on taking another sip. Finally, breakfast! Nothing can go wrong with breakfast...



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[info]i_stealanything
2011-03-16 01:28 pm UTC (link)
Home? Now that can't be right!

Eugenides made a frown at that, never mind the fact that he really couldn't comprehend the idea of "home" at such a place as this was. But...well, he supposed that he was counting on meeting that friend to better understand his current predicament -- that is to say, his current circumstances.

"...where is home?" he muttered suddenly. "Or," Gen shrugged a little. "Where do you go home to? Where do people go home here?" Because he wasn't ready to live in foreign streets just yet.

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[info]i_zen
2011-03-18 01:58 am UTC (link)
"My home is wherever I sleep many times, though some times my home is more comfortable than other times. Then again, I guess a home really isn't a home unless you feel at home and those places I don't feel comfortable aren't really home. My home is currently in a mansion. It changes places, so I don't believe any address will help." Charlie shrugged and leaned back in the booth, watching the young man.

"People go to their own places. Some live in houses, others apartments. Some have condos. Some even live out in the Park. I've had a few people live with me at the mansion. Actually, it's my friend's mansion, but he lets me live there." Charlie didn't say that it had actually been his before, and somehow Ted had been deeded it. No, he just let it be Ted's mansion.

"I hear that some people actually find keys in pockets. I found car keys once. Keys fit in all sorts of locks." Other things fit in some of those locks. Locks weren't always a problem when people knew how to work them.

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[info]i_stealanything
2011-03-19 10:21 am UTC (link)
Locks used to be completely useless to Eugenides although he liked to think that they still are, relatively.

And that has got to be the most complicated definition of home that he'd ever heard of.

He did search through his pockets for anything that resembled a key but all he had was money, a wrapping of sorts, and dirt. He flicked them out of his nails when they dug in and frowned a little at the lack of the magical key he sought for. His god probably deemed it too...unnecessary for him.

"Well, I have none," Eugenides admitted bluntly. "Perhaps, I shall look for one, though." And with that, he stood up with the purpose of a determined man and swept out of the table. "Thank you. I'll keep your words in mind."

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(Grr, thought I sent this - I'm really really sorry)
[info]i_zen
2011-03-31 12:57 am UTC (link)
Charlie nodded giving the poor fellow a slight smile. He didn't race after Gen when he left, but he did make a mental note. Gen had left without paying. It didn't seem right, but it did happen. Charlie paid both their bills and left not long after the young man did. He had watched Gen through the windows, and once he was outside, he paused to get an idea of what way the guy had gone.

He didn't see anyone in clothes that suggested much worse for wear, but he didn't expect to. The detective had a mystery on his hands, only he now had to decide what would what if he actually succeeded in finding the answer to said mystery.

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