Leif Niemi (bloodcounts) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-07-12 22:41:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-07-19, leif |
Another game of charades
Who: Leif (and Miakoda and NPCed workmen)
Where: Leif's new, not entirely humble abode.
When: Noon
Leif sat on his front steps, becoming increasingly impatient. He did not care enough to move aside for the workmen carrying boxes full of his relocated life. He really didn't care that, from the expressions on their faces, those boxes were rather heavy. They had been paid to do a job--they could get on and do it. Yes, he knew he looked odd, seated with a hawk on his arm, but exactly how did that detract from their ability to carry furniture?
Talons flexed against the protective glove, and Miakoda shifted agitatedly from one foot to the other. She had not spoken to him since he tethered her to his wrist, and everytime he made an effort at restoring peace between them, she ruffled her feathers and glared as best a hawk could glare. Were Leif the kind of man to be effected by the facial expressions of others, he would have released her. As it stood, he merely wondered how a bird actually came to have facial expressions. So there they remained, pointedly ignoring each other, both doing their best to blank the 'staff'.
"Say, uh, sir?" He had heard their complaints about his distinct lack of hospitality, though none of them had actually voiced it. Instead, they had volunteered the youngest of them to request refreshments. They wanted tea or coffee. Maybe sandwiches, if it wasn't too much of an inconvenience. It was, but he let the other man finish rambling first.
"You all have flasks," Leif remarked, feeling Miakoda's eyes on him.
They're all empty and doubtlessly coffee-stained, she stretched her wings, helpfully stating the obvious in an effort to annoy him.
"Yes, sir." The cretin almost looked hopeful, if not a little spooked by the hawk's presence.
With a careless gesture inside the house, Leif shrugged. While Mia may have been successful in her endeavour to agitate him, the result was aimed at the third party. "The tap is in the kitchen, feel free to re-fill them." Something of a cruel chuckle sounded in his head. A glance at his familiar revealed she was pointedly looking the other way.
"We was--We were wondering if you had anything... uh... Well, something more like coffee. Or tea, or--" The telepath zoned out. Hearing conversations--or intended conversations--before the person with you had the chance to voice them was vastly irritating. Tea or coffee, and maybe sandwiches and biscuits. Room service for workmen.
Snapping his fingers for silence, he suppressed the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and gave the other man a mirthless smile. "Do I look like a suburban housewife?" The nominated spokesperson appeared to be struck dumb. Miakoda shifted slightly; A better man would have said 'yes' to that by now. For that remark alone, she was released, though she came back to settle on his shoulder. The worker looked at them both, clearly finding himself intimidated and returned to his work without complaint.
The apartment suited us better, Mia said almost contemplatively, destroying the silence that Leif had been enjoying.
"You'll get over it."
Mm... Will you? Knowing full well she wasn't talking about the house, that question went ignored.
A few hours later and everyone piled out of the townhouse, leaving Leif and Miakoda alone. The last man out tripped just short of the van, knocking his head on the side panel. He blamed the fact he hadn't eaten. Leif merely wiped the remainder of his own blood from his thumb with a smirk and revelled in the fact a childhood curse could be blamed on low blood sugar. And then, of course, their van would not start. Perhaps he had been a little childish.