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Jun 17, 2015 20:39:09 GMT -5
Post by henri desrosiers on Jun 17, 2015 20:39:09 GMT -5
Henri doesn't usually eat out. It's much simpler and cheaper to eat in. But sometimes it just happens, when he needs a quick bite before his next client. Of course, everyday he hopes he gets a break, and everyday he is usually unlucky. But it pays the bills and on special occasions he can treat himself.
Though today was not one of those days. He went into some dingy cafe and ordered himself something that resembled a breakfast platter - it was six in the evening but he was craving eggs and bacon and pancakes. For being as cheap as it was, it wasn't half bad and he made a reminder to himself that he'd probably come here again, maybe not wolf it down so fast. His mother always said, he was a growing boy and he needed to eat, but he was twenty-seven now and probably didn't need to grow anymore.
He tipped the waiter well (relatively), and he stepped out. He probably had to go to pigalle later on this evening, but he was delaying it, for the time being. He never truly had a problem getting the money. It was just what came after that he oft dreaded.
corbett |
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Strigoi
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a 18 year old
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played by Kitten
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a million voice inside my dreams my heart is left so incomplete
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Jun 18, 2015 22:38:15 GMT -5
Post by corbett on Jun 18, 2015 22:38:15 GMT -5
through dingy glass he sees them, the dining masses. plates piled in assorted foods, scents crowding the cramped space and leaking out into the night. he breaths in, disappointment. when last had he enjoyed a warm meal? he no longer remembers, can't call up anything to put a taste behind smells he can easily pick apart and name.
he's full fed, gorged on blood. no threat to these people apart from a nuisance peering in on their meal time. no mind is paid, which suits him fine. he continues on his wanderings until his drifting attention put him in some soul's path.
no collision, of course. his reflexes too quick for that. but inhuman movement draws attention. impressed stares. he let's himself fall, hoping to distract from his feat.
henri desrosiers |
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Jun 19, 2015 0:52:16 GMT -5
Post by henri desrosiers on Jun 19, 2015 0:52:16 GMT -5
Henri's got the smell of the diner on him, it lingers. His breath probably smells like breakfast - soon he'd have to drown it down with coffee, probably black, so he can stay up the whole night. He dislikes the bitter aftertaste.
He wasn't really paying attention to what he was doing. He was going in a general direction, but for some reason he had nearly collided with someone. He didn't hit him - oddly, enough, he managed to fall instead.
Even though there was no collision, Henri thought it best to apologize anyways. "Are you okay? Sorry, that's my fault, I wasn't really paying attention. Here, let me help you up." He extended a hand out, expecting the guy to take it.
corbett |
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Strigoi
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a 18 year old
Rogue
with 79 posts and ,
played by Kitten
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a million voice inside my dreams my heart is left so incomplete
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Jun 19, 2015 16:34:45 GMT -5
Post by corbett on Jun 19, 2015 16:34:45 GMT -5
so close the extended hand that he smells the stinks of grease and fried meat on it. smells of breakfast foods (fired eggs, buttered toast, sausage) bath this man in their residual scents. disgusting to him now, he wrinkles his nose as he clasps the proffered appendage.
"it was my fault. i was looking in the windows and not where i was going."
on his feet, he's no longer worth passerby attention. all the better. wilmer didn't need to catch wind of his nightly escapades. no harm in his prowling anyways, aside from a few dead humans.
"breakfast for dinner?" he asks unnecessarily. a mistake before he realizes.
henri desrosiers |
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Jun 19, 2015 22:05:52 GMT -5
Post by henri desrosiers on Jun 19, 2015 22:05:52 GMT -5
"I guess we could both just say we weren't paying attention, then." He helped the guy up, nevertheless, and was probably going to be on his way wandering once more to who knows where before he looked over at the guy.
He knew he ate breakfast. For dinner. "Yeah, I had a craving. It comes every once in a while, I guess that's why they have twenty four hour breakfast places. You've got great... observation skills." Henri wasn't sure what gave it away - did he have like ketchup on his shirt or something. A glance down confirmed that no, he did not have a stain and thank goodness for that.
"What brings you out here, anyways?"
corbett |
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Strigoi
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a 18 year old
Rogue
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a million voice inside my dreams my heart is left so incomplete
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Jun 21, 2015 23:25:55 GMT -5
Post by corbett on Jun 21, 2015 23:25:55 GMT -5
too late he realized his error, yet repercussions never came. not an ounce of suspicion was raised by the question. this human seemed trusting, too trusting if he could just sum up corbett’s comment to observation alone. did such people exist?
“that is convenient.”
food has long since lost its appeal to him. he scarcely remembers the taste, what breakfast foods he liked. it feels so long ago since he was human, and not the blood sucking beast he is now.
“i was just wandering.”
henri desrosiers |
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Jun 22, 2015 15:01:37 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by henri desrosiers on Jun 22, 2015 15:01:37 GMT -5
"Yeah, I guess it is convenient. Though I don't suppose many people get that sort of craving often - not sure if they get much business in the late hours." Henri wondering about that. Well, they were still afloat, so either people had that craving more than he thought, or they were really busy in the morning.
"Oh, what a coincidence, I guess we're doing the same thing." He barely caught himself asking the guy if they both wanted to wander around together. That was probably a weird thing to ask, anyways. "Henri, by the way. That's, uh, my name." Always gotta introduce oneself to pretty much anyone. That was the first step of being a nice, honest person.
corbett |
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Strigoi
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a 18 year old
Rogue
with 79 posts and ,
played by Kitten
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a million voice inside my dreams my heart is left so incomplete
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Jun 22, 2015 23:59:15 GMT -5
Post by corbett on Jun 22, 2015 23:59:15 GMT -5
he spares a glance to the little establishment, or what he assumes is it. the place where the man’s come from. whiffs of grease and burning meat ooze from within the dingy building. disgusting.
“would you like to walk together?”
they’re in the way where they stand. it makes sense to walk together rather than end their brief meeting by parting so soon. it’s clear enough the other man longs for more conversation, perhaps even company. henri, as he claims is his name, appears good company.
“my name’s corbett.” introductions are foreign, but he assumes there’s more than a statement of names, some custom he’s missing. “let’s walk.”
henri desrosiers |
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Jun 23, 2015 0:09:37 GMT -5
Post by henri desrosiers on Jun 23, 2015 0:09:37 GMT -5
Henri had forgotten - they were in the middle of the sidewalk, weren't they. Blocking people. Henri could possibly have just gone and left then, if the guy didn't suggest walking together. It made him slightly happy - he, for once, didn't have to initiate. For fear of being, well, a bit pushy.
"Sure. Nice to meet you, Corbett." The two of them started walking to - well, Henri didn't really know where. Yes, he did want to avoid his inevitable fate for tonight, and for now, finding a new friend (maybe, probably, who knows, acquaintances were never in his vocabulary) would be a great way to avoid that fate.
After a few seconds of silence, mostly because Henri was trying to figure out just what to talk about, he thought of something. "Do you like breakfast foods - I mean, just in general - I guess you'd have to like breakfast food because that's just food people eat for breakfast, but out of the traditional, what do you like? Or do you just not like it in general - I know some people are like that. I think my dad was like that - but mom always made it for him anyways." The word vomit was just coming out of his mouth now, and he couldn't stop it.
corbett |
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Strigoi
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a 18 year old
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a million voice inside my dreams my heart is left so incomplete
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Jun 23, 2015 23:19:49 GMT -5
Post by corbett on Jun 23, 2015 23:19:49 GMT -5
together they fall into step, side by side. this simple act of walking together is foreign yet welcomed. company he never knew in the catacombs welcomed. a warmth he’s never known radiates from this man. he smiles so easily, trusts so freely.
“nice to meet you,” he repeats. a realization. “that’s it.” a little smile on his lips, he repeats the phrase again in thought. nice to meet you. such a simple string of words, but the meaning is what matters.
for a time they are in silence. corbett lost for what to say, merely enjoying the act of walking along with another beside him. henri breaks it with a ramble of words corbett listens carefully to. such sincerity and kindliness, it’s contagious. “food’s lost its taste. i don’t remember things i liked before.” his brow furrows. childhood memories are fuzzy, unclear. “i think i liked french toast, and orange juice. i loved orange juice.”
henri desrosiers |
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Jun 24, 2015 22:25:37 GMT -5
Post by henri desrosiers on Jun 24, 2015 22:25:37 GMT -5
It's odd, the way this guy talked, as though he couldn't remember the last time he had traditional breakfast foods. As though he no longer loved the food he so lovingly talked about. But apparently food lost it's taste - Henri didn't understand, but he really didn't want to question it, didn't want to make it harder for the guy than it already is. Perhaps he really should have thought it odd, the way that he said before, past tense, never to happen again.
"Hmm, french toast is really sweet. I don't really drink orange juice with it - I find that the sweetness of the toast makes the fruitiness of the juice more bitter, if that makes any sense." To be fair, he hadn't had french toast in a while - Henri preferred more of the meats and the eggs, and sometimes pancakes but that was rare too. His mother liked the sweet stuff more than he did. "I prefer bacon, I think. It's hard to choose when there's so much delicious."
corbett |
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Strigoi
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a 18 year old
Rogue
with 79 posts and ,
played by Kitten
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a million voice inside my dreams my heart is left so incomplete
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Jun 27, 2015 19:46:52 GMT -5
Post by corbett on Jun 27, 2015 19:46:52 GMT -5
time and again he’s fallen to curiosity’s lure—a bite of an apple, a sip of some juice. tasteless and bland, and nauseating he finds it to be. nothing but blood appeals to him, as it’s been since his first drink from her enticing veins. only in appearance is he human, and easily able to pass among them. a wolf in sheeps clothing one could say.
bacon, eggs, and pancakes, henri talks off. he draws upon memories that slip through his fingers like water, too fluid and unclear to make sense off, memories of petty things like eating breakfast and what those foods tasted like. frozen and easy to recall are the memories of significance (wilmer, his orphanage family).
“i don’t know.” quiet the admissions, the recollections of things he hadn’t thought of until henri. “i can’t remember what the juice tasted like when washing down the toast. i don’t know what bacon or eggs, or even pancakes tasted like. it’s all tasteless and nauseating. i can’t relate.” this talk of food makes his stomach churn, and a pain twist in his chest. “you talk a lot about food. do you work in food service?”
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Jun 29, 2015 2:06:09 GMT -5
Post by henri desrosiers on Jun 29, 2015 2:06:09 GMT -5
Henri wasn't sure how to react to that. He wasn't sure what it meant, not knowing what food tasted like. Did he have some sort of weird disorder? Maybe his taste buds all went out. But he wasn't sure how that would be possible. Maybe he was old - but he didn't look old. He sounded like he was recollecting something, though. So maybe he was a really old person that aged really well.
He could find no other explanation for it, either way. Maybe there was some other reason, and Henri just couldn't think of it right now. Something really obvious, he bet.
"Oh, me? No, I don't work with food, at all. Actually I guess it's just fresh in the mind, since I just finished eating. I guess, anyways." He couldn't really say what he was in the business of, though. Probably not the best conversational topic to change to right after food.
"If, if you don't mind me asking, why can't you taste food anymore?" He was curious, he couldn't wrap his mind around it, but he bet in about two seconds he was going to feel real dumb about not knowing it.
corbett |
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Strigoi
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a 18 year old
Rogue
with 79 posts and ,
played by Kitten
who is currently
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a million voice inside my dreams my heart is left so incomplete
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Jul 4, 2015 21:06:14 GMT -5
Post by corbett on Jul 4, 2015 21:06:14 GMT -5
deceit he was no good at. lying came with great effort and no conviction. half-truths, however, were entirely different matters. vague with only the barest of information, that would do.
“i lose my sense of taste.” unable to meet the other man’s eyes, he stares at his feet. a rock crossing his path is kicked lightly. he watches it clatter on the sidewalk. “something traumatic happened when i was a kid, and i haven’t been able to taste anything since.”
would henri pry for more details, or was his admission enough?
henri desrosiers |
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Jul 6, 2015 20:00:31 GMT -5
Post by henri desrosiers on Jul 6, 2015 20:00:31 GMT -5
Corbett was an engima, and he baffled Henri beyond belief. It wasn't his overall demeanor, or even the way he acted, or the suspicious things that transpired. It was this whole taste thing. Henri had never heard of something like that happening, but he wasn't an expert on things like that.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bring up any traumatic experiences, that's my fault. What do you say, we change the subject to something else?" If he had known... Henri didn't want to accidentally bring up bad memories.
"So, um, is a good topic change something like asking you about your hobbies. If you want to share, that is."
corbett |
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