video || Day 83

[dowhatisays]

[Charlie doesn't look so good right now. Seems to be a theme with him when he's desperate enough to actually post on this thing. But the welled up anger and frustration about this whole situation is itching under his skin to do something. Like subject the whole town to his dark-circled eyes and ridiculous curly haystack of hair. You're welcome.]

Anyone got a fucking soup recipe or some shit? Like we even got anything to fucking cook with.

I got shit to trade for it if you do got any.

[He gives the camera a glare, clearly seeing if he has any other reason to say anything. Apparently not. The feed ends.]


[ooc: After the 'Meyer getting attacked by a tiger' plot. Charlie is home with the sicky and not happy about it.]

Comments

[dowhatisays]

[Stop using logic on him, Pinkman, it's an unfair advantage.]

No. It's Meyer.

[magnets]

[ He only has so much to offer, Charlie, okay, you take it. ]

Meyer. [ He says a little uncertainly, and then, ] He okay?

[dowhatisays]

Long as he stays the fuck in bed reckon he should be.

There was a tiger.

[It sounds stupid to say it out loud. His partner got attacked by a fucking tiger in the woods. Hilarious.]

[magnets]

There was a-

[ He cuts off and leans a little forward, agitated. ] He went into the woods?

[dowhatisays]

Don't fucking worry, I'm giving him shit for that.

[magnets]

What'd he think, people were kiddin' about all the shit out there? Jesus. He isn't too bad, is he?

[ Wait a minute. ] Yo, so he ain't sick, he's just, like, injured. What're you makin' him soup for?

[dowhatisays]

I got no idea what he was fucking thinking.

[Wow, rude.]

It works the same, don't it? 'sides it ain't like I can cook much else.

[magnets]

Uh. But ya don't know how to cook it.

[ Ugh. Caring. ]

Ya want help?

[dowhatisays]

Never had to fucking cook before, had I?

[He's a bad Italian, he knows.]

Why. You know how to cook?

[magnets]

Sorta?

[ He knows how to cook a steak and he makes a mean mac 'n cheese; that counts, right? ]

I mean, we can figger it out, huh?

[dowhatisays]

We? Why the fuck do yous care?

[magnets]

Cuz Meyer's a cool dude? Duh?

[ Because they're working on something and his getting injured is something of a concern! ]

[dowhatisays]

Yeah. He's real good at thems first impressions.

[Unlike his partner.]

I ain't going no wheres for a while.

[That's basically an invitation, better roll with it.]

[magnets]

And it ain't like I got anythin' better to do.

[ Tsun harder, guys. ]

Maybe I'll stop by.

[ Actually, he's gonna grab his coat right now. ]

[dowhatisays]

[If he tsuned any harder he might explode.]

You wanna be extra useful you can always bring the booze.

[magnets]

Yeah? Ya got your priorities in order, yo. [ It's okay, he can dig it. ]

What house you guys at anyway?

[dowhatisays]

When I comes from, it's a big fucking priority.

Yellow one. Down by the water.

[magnets]

Yeah, yeah, got it.

[ It takes him a good twenty minutes to get all his shit together, stops by the bar to pick up a couple of good stuff before he shows up at the door, raps on it with a free hand. He's got a six pack dangling from his fingers and a bottle of scotch tucked under his arm. ]

[dowhatisays]

[Charlie opens the door, looking disheveled and tousled-haired, but his eyebrows raise appreciatively at Jesse's haul. He likes you, you can stay. Forever please.]

You mades it. Kitchen's through here.

[magnets]

Yeah-huh. [ Hey, he's a man of his word. And he really does like Meyer - Charlie by association too, he supposes - so he's going to make do on showing up. He starts to follow Charlie through the house. ] You get anything started yet?

[dowhatisays]

Would of done if I fucking founds anything.

[In the middle of the table is a few cans of vegetables an half a bag of rice. It's pretty pitiful. Charlie's been staring at it for ages willing it to transform into real food.]

[magnets]

Well, whatcha got?

[ He sets the booze down on the table as well, starts picking up the cans curiously and turning them over in his hands. ] I mean, it ain't a bad haul ya got here. Pretty much all they got in soup, right? Like, veggies and shit.

[ He glances around the kitchen. ] Ya got a pot somewhere?

[dowhatisays]

Around theres.

[He points to a cupboard. Meanwhile he's going to have one of those beers. He hadn't realised it until now, but he's been on ever since he got that damn phonecall telling him Meyer had been attacked. He hadn't had any sleep, brain constantly making him check on Meyer every five seconds. And now, the first instance of someone offering to do something and he feels like collapsing into the floor.

He drops himself into a chair, legs feeling suddenly jelly-like, and takes a very long drink.]

[magnets]

Alright.

[ He starts to shrug off his jacket before he remembers- ] Oh, hey. [ And he tugs out a bottle of oxycodone - did guys from their era even have this shit? - tosses them to Charlie before he slings his leather over the back of a chair, talks to him as he starts digging around in the cupboard for an appropriate pot. ]

They're, uh, painkillers. Dug 'em outta the pharmacy a while ago, [ for his own recreational use, sure, but they're useful now, ] wasn't sure if you guys had anythin'. Figure Meyer could'a used 'em. [ He yanks out a pot, messily, and nods back at Charlie with a shrug. ] Help yourself too, man, take the edge off.

[dowhatisays]

[Charlie glances at the bottle, but fuck it it's gibberish to him. He downs one himself washing it down with beer. He'll rationalize it as making sure they aren't poison before he gives any to Meyer, but really at this point taking the edge off sounds pretty fucking good.]

Thanks. We was running out.

[They only came with so much heroine. Although he's starting to match descriptions and figures this must be the one Meyer told him he sold to. People here do seem less wound up than back home, but doesn't mean he just goes and blabs about what drugs he's got to just anyone.]