InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Ah blitznack!"

arrogant_black (arrogant_black) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2011-02-05 09:39:00

Entry tags:

eames, regulus black

Who: Regulus and Eames
What: Mario Kart and a little issue about Trust that needs to be resolved, will it or won't it?
When: This afternoon
Where: Reg's flat he shares with Merlin
Rating/Warnings: Low for now, will update if needs be
Status: in progress, closed

It was mid-day, the sun was gloriously pronouncing its presence through the slitted window shade, and Regulus still had yet to bathe or change out of his pajamas. If he had somewhere to go, people to see, things to do he would have made an effort at sartorial decency. As it was only Saturday and the greatest item on his To Do list was to beat that bloody infuriated Bowser, something best accomplished from the most comfortable position a human body could obtain, Regulus saw absolutely no need to don a clean outfit.

Even when someone started knocking at the door Regulus was undeterred in his slovenly situation. He even ignored it for a moment as no one had texted or called to say they were coming over for a visit, and he reasoned it must be for Merlin. And if that bloke on the other side of the door didn't have the foresight to call ahead to find out where Merlin was this afternoon, Regulus wasn't about to inform them of their idiocy.

But that person kept knocking, and because the volume increased with each round of raps and it was starting to become annoying he paused his game and got up to tell who every it was to come back another time. He almost grumbled under his breath with each slumped, heavy footfall, the kind only petulant child utilized when they wanted to express just how put out they were.

He pulled the door open with an exasperated jerk of his arm and the sarcastic remark froze on his tongue. His brow furrowed and he shifted his eyes to peer around Eames, uncertain what the older man calling on him meant. Clearly he must have tucked behind him a smallish woman who looked eerily like that girl Regulus was falling for more each day - though he wouldn't admit that to anyone right now. Ariadne was not in the hall behind Eames.

"Uh," he paused finally looking the man in the eye. "Good afternoon...?" He didn't know if it should be a question or a welcoming gesture.

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arrogant_black
2011-02-05 07:15 pm UTC (link)

Regulus narrowed his eyes in obvious disbelief at Eames words. Clearly the other man had not read those bloody books. Good, time for more confusion, of which Regulus felt no guilt over providing. Eames had walked in of his own free will, hadn't he? He scoffed and then said as he closed the door, "Then it would no longer be cold. Really, what are you on about?" As if Eames were the one with the problem.

Regulus took the back with a rising of eyebrows common on a child in a candy store - his own mini candy store in a bag. He opened the bag without further comment and then moved to the sofa, because he had no interest in making his own tea if someone else was offering to do it for him. Eames was quickly become the Best Guest Ever.

"Ya," he called over his shoulder and around a mouthful of delicious peanutbutter-chocolatey goodness. "Kreacher or Merlin stocks the cabinets, something should be up there."

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dream_bigger
2011-02-05 07:58 pm UTC (link)

"No idea, but I guess you're a bit fucked, then, aren't you?" Eames replied cheerfully, before heading into the kitchen.

And then he stopped dead in his tracks because there was a grumpy twisted little... thing scowling at him from where it stood on the countertop. And was it drinking beer or something? "Oh. Hello. You're, right. Yes. House Elf? Like that one, Dobby?"

He stepped closer, only for the House Elf to start squinting at him like it was actually Cobb in disguise, and muttering something about Dobby being oh so full of himself with his fancy clothes and stuff, so Eames stayed where he was because he didn't fancy getting bits of crockery thrown at his head. "So, House Elf. Actually, what's your name? Would you mind very much if I was to make tea for Reg and myself? Is that... would it... Does that sound alright? Or are you going to do icky things with magic to me if I try?"

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arrogant_black
2011-02-05 08:27 pm UTC (link)

Regulus only smirked, because that was right, he was indubitably plenty good and well fucked in some of the worse ways.

It was the lack of metal striking metal, the usual sounds of a kettle being pulled from a cupboard and filled with water and then placed on the burner to heat, that drew Regulus' attention at first. And then he caught snippets from Eames and remembered he had a not so usual creature sharing space with him and Merlin and Merlin's cat. Kreacher.

Regulus pulled himself up again for the second time and walked to the kitchen. Sidling around his friend, who seemed to have frozen to the spot - really, it was just a House Elf, a cranky looking one, but still only a House Elf - and peered at Kreacher.

"Kreacher, be nice to Eames, he's a frie-" Regulus started to say and then saw what his House Elf was holding, "What is in your hand?"

Kreacher, tipsy as he was, had been caught off guard and he instantly turned from cranky with narrowed eyes to cranky with a sheepish blush suffusing his cheeks, which was really just a darker shade of drab gray. "Oh, welll, Kreacher was... Master Regulus... just-" the elf was slurring all his words.

"It's rootbeer, Kreacher." Kreacher then hickuped and teetered some with the force of his emissions, which did not improve the odd mix of grumpy and shamefaced the elf was now affecting. Kreacher grumbled under his breath a bit more about odd things, muggles in his kitchen, Dobby's uppitiness, and there was even a jab in there about Sirius - to which Regulus tried really hard not to respond because Kreacher was not acting proper and that sort of behavior shouldn't be encouraged. And then the elf put down the can on the counter, almost falling off as he did so, but managed just barely. The elf then half stumbled half stalked out of the room only to be lost behind the closing of a door, Regulus really hoped it was his room the elf had blundered into.

It was an odd disconnect, him halting Kreacher from drinking, if one considered Regulus' own substance abuse problem, but this was his House Elf and no one would look after him if Regulus didn't. Kreacher clearly needed someone to do that for him, and Regulus did what he had to.

"Right, kitchen's yours, mate," Regulus said without any further explanation and headed back to the sofa, as if that whole exchange wasn't weird and everyone knew a House Elf had the constitution of a shriveled leaf.

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dream_bigger
2011-02-05 08:42 pm UTC (link)

"Uh, sure. Cheers," he managed, then checked in his pocket for his totem. Awake. Hurrah.

He set about finding all the things he needed, and then filled the kettle with water and went to the kitchen doorway as he waited for it to boil. "So, should I make something for Kreacher as well? Or would he thank me by pouring fresh tea over my nuts and then braining me with the empty mug?"

He watched the game Reg was playing for a bit, then went back to finish making tea when he heard the kettle boiling. He quickly made three mugs of tea, leaving one in the kitchen for the ugly little elf as an attempt to befriend it, and brought the other two into where Reg was sitting. Then he went and picked up his backpack, before sitting on the same couch as Reg. He didn't sit too close, though. He knew better. "So, is this a good game? It's Mario, right?" Eames was not exactly a computer games type of person, but he did know the more iconic games characters.

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arrogant_black
2011-02-05 09:12 pm UTC (link)

"If you want," Regulus started to say and then as Eames continued he furrowed his brow without taking his sight from the TV screen and this little green guy speeding around a track. He let out a sound of exasperation, "Don't listen to anything my brother says about Kreacher. He's just been abuse, a lot, and it takes him some time to warm up to you, if you're consistently nice to him he's alright." And then Regulus was pulled fully back into his game while Eames manned the kettle.

He paused when his friend came back into the room bearing two mugs. The little green guy was in mid-air spin having hit something on the track to cause the acrobatic feat.

"It can be," Regulus shrugged and sipped at his tea. "So what's the book you brought me?"

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dream_bigger
2011-02-05 10:15 pm UTC (link)

Eames paused on his way back in to make the tea, looking seriously at his friend, more than glad that Reg was concentrating fully on the strange little game with the dinosaur driving a car. He'd unknowingly described Eames' thoughts about Reg himself, and his not-so-devious plan to try and help, in any way possible. And the "Ignore Sirius's babble" part, too. And so he left the tea out for the Elf before going back out to be consistently nice to Reg.

Eames dug the book out of his bag, along with one of his sketchbooks and his roll of pencils. "The book is one I borrowed from the library at work. I remembered that I'd told you about Salvador Dalí, and I'd promised to show you some of his work, but I never got around to doing anything about it. I saw this yesterday, and thought you might like to have a look at it. It's got about a hundred and twenty pictures of the man's artwork, and a biography as well. It's not bad. Nothing like seeing the things with your own eyes, of course. I should ask Parker for a list of what's in the art museum, she's bound to know." The last part was muttered to himself, and then he held the book out for Reg to look at.

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arrogant_black
2011-02-06 04:19 am UTC (link)

Involved as he was with the game Regulus didn't notice the parallel he'd made between himself and his House Elf. If Regulus was more present in the conversation he might have phrased things differently to be less leading, unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, for Regulus the little green creature was more engrossing at the moment. Eames was right to make the connection, even it it was unwittingly drawn for him.

Regulus, slouched down against the sofa and feet up on the coffee tabled, started flipping through the book as Eames spoke. Regulus wasn't much for modern art if it was just blocks of color or cubes or splattered paint. He liked to see objects in art, and he appreciated this Dali's use of objects, if it was hard to make sense of anything. "This one's there." He held the open book up to indicate the painting he was referring to, it had melting clocks in it. He remembered seeing it when he went with Morgana.

Even with the objects as a focal point Regulus wasn't sure what he was to think of the art, he was never sure with Muggle art. It was disconcerting for him that the subjects did not move, though, perhaps it was best these liquefying timepieces didn't as they would just soon be viscous blobs of mess if the painting was charmed. Regulus found himself tripping over whether he was supposed to take the artist's meaning or craft one of his own. He tended towards the former, knowing himself how difficult it was when no one understood him. But what was the artist trying to say with the ineffectually rendered chronikers, and with the rather barren landscape? Bah, Regulus would think about it some other time, as the answer probably wasn't even available.

"Not sure what to think of your muggle art, nothing moves," he said absently as he turned the page.

He wished he hadn't, had instead stayed focus on the wonky clocks, because he suddenly found himself staring at one of the artists more phallic riddled pieces. Regulus' trigger response kicked in and he slammed the book shut before going further. He cast a quick glance at his friend knowing that couldn't have been taken well, but he was unwilling to explain his aversion to anything hinting towards the sexual. One of these days people were bound to notice the disparity between him and his brothers approaches to sex, he hoped today was not that day.

"So," he tried searching for something to cover his sudden action, "what's with that?" He nodded towards the sketchbook in Eames' lap.

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dream_bigger
2011-02-19 12:54 pm UTC (link)

"'The Persistence of Memory'. It's probably his most famous work. A lot of people think it has to do with Einstein's theory of relativity, because it implies that time is fluid, like these melting clocks. But Dalí said that he was inspired by melting cheese, so perhaps it isn't. And... oh dear, I didn't come here to be a teacher," he said, realising he was in danger of launching into a lecture. He was about to comment on the usual thing his wizarding friends said when they looked at any work of art, and then froze for a moment at Reg's reaction to the picture he saw next. It pretty much confirmed a great deal of things about his young friend, although he couldn't help but be selfish and wish the trigger had been something other than what it had been. He liked that piece, damn it. Somehow, he didn't think Reg would want to hear the interpretation of it, though.

Careful not to react in any way that might spook Reg even further, Eames took a drink of tea, then looked down at his sketchbook. "What's with this is that my first years are working on a project, so I thought I should do it along with them. We have to produce a piece of art in a particular medium that matches a theme I had them pick earlier in the week. I normally work in acrylics or pen and ink, so I thought I'd do a pencil drawing instead. But I need to do prep-work first," he explained, busying himself with the pencils.

"Can you draw?" he asked once he had the canvas roll open, then started to flick through his sketchbook, looking through page after page of rough drawings of Ariadne and Phillipa making a model together, of Mal laughing over a cup of coffee, of Sirius's bike and Morpheus creating cities with a wave of his hand, even a few of Parker from when he'd seen her at the casino. There were other sketches of random people from the city, out jogging or shopping, kids playing in the park, all sorts. There were even a few drawings of his various forgeries, not that Reg would know the difference between them and the people from Colligo. Finally, he found an empty double spread, and then looked back at Reg.

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arrogant_black
2011-02-19 05:52 pm UTC (link)

Regulus thought the academic answer over in his mind. It made sense actually. "Well, have you ever had finely aged cheese?" Because that kind of thing stayed with you, and persisted in memory, good cheese.

Eames didn't comment about the shut book, there was a pause, it was most definitely noted, but the older man didn't try to question. And that sat well with Regulus, as kind as Eames was to him it was the truth he didn't trust him to discuss that part of him. But that didn't have to be explained because Eames didn't press for an explanation. Regulus was grateful for that and didn't waste any time taking advantage of the change in subject.

"Hardly, no," he said with a snort, he could barely draw a stick figure. "My artistic talents, if one could call it that, tend towards music, not the visual." He paid attention as Eames flipped through the sketch pad. His friend was good, though Regulus' limited artistic experience didn't lend much weight to his opinion.

"What do you plan to draw?"

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