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

[magnets]

Well- [ And he drops the spoon, leans forward on the table again. ] No. Gotta lot of it. Sorta. Short supply'n all. It's the equipment that's the big problem. Ain't got none'a the cookware we need here. Need, like, the flasks, the burners, the- the respirators. That's what I'm workin' on.

Meantime, I can at least teach 'im the basics. The process, what he should be expectin' if we ever can get the cook up and movin'. [ Well. He pauses again, glances back into the house, the direction where he assumes the bedrooms are. ] Once he's ready for it, anyway.

[dowhatisays]

Yeah.

[He glances towards the back of the house, too. He'll check on him, soon. He can't go too long without double-checking he's still breathing.]

You make a list of the shit you need. I'll see what I can finds.

[magnets]

Yeah?

[ He was, after all, dubious about what kind of part Charlie would play in all this - gathering supplies, that'd be a big help, definitely pulling his share. He's hesitant to be excited about this, but it comes out in a bit of a grin. Having something to do here, it'd be more of a help than he can really gauge. And it's not going to be like home. It's quieter here. Nobody's gonna get killed over this shit, not over his dead body. ]

I'll write somethin' up for you. Market, I know that ain't exactly gonna be somethin' real big here, but it's- still somethin' possible, right? Somethin' to do.

[dowhatisays]

[Going out and talking to people has always been his contribution. It could be finding investors or moving product or in this case, pounding the pavement for whatever shit people might have in their attic. It's familiar for Charlie, something he knows he's good at. And familiar feels real fucking good in this place.]

I'm gonna check on Meyer. Keep an eye on the fucking soup, yeah?

[magnets]

Yeah, yeah, go 'head, man. I think we got this soup shit down.

Tell 'im to hang in there for me, huh? [ Even if he's a fuckin' idiot for going out in the damn woods. ]

[dowhatisays]

Don't need to. He ain't going no where.

[Because Meyer doesn't die. Not in a place like this, not from something as fucking stupid as a fucking tiger in the woods, not from nothing. Charlie believes this more than anything, and he's going to make Meyer get better if it kills him.

He checks Meyer's breathing, wakes him up just enough to get a pill in him, and returns slightly more rumpled than before.]

Look fit to eat yet?

[magnets]

[ By the time Charlie gets back, the pot's on the stove and Jesse's idly stirring at it, glances back at him - and looks him over vaguely - with a lazy shrug. He feels a fuckton more relaxed now that his oxy's kicked in, that kind of quiet buzz in his system. ] Just gotta warm up some more and then we're good to go, hombre.

Ya know- [ And he lifts the spoon again, sniffs at it, takes a bit of a sip, and looks back to Charlie again with an easy smile. ] Shit ain't half bad. Kinda bland, I mean, but, yo, it's soup.

[dowhatisays]

[Charlie wanders over and takes a taste himself. Shit, he's had worse. He did go to juvie, after all. You learn to get a lot less picky after that.]

Could use pepper but I don't reckon we got any.

[magnets]

What? You don't got-

[ Jesse suddenly looks around the kitchen, wrinkles his nose a bit. ]

Don't you got any- y'know, spices?

[dowhatisays]

It ain't like I'm fucking cooking or anything heres.

[magnets]

[ Jesse looks back at him, deadpan. ] Well, you're cookin' now, aren'tcha? [ Or at least sitting back while Jesse largely makes this soup, whatever. ] Not even, like, basil? Everybody's got basil. Check the cupboards, yo.

[dowhatisays]

Why don't you fucking check the fucking cupboards, alright?

[Charlie throws himself back on a kitchen chair, suddenly done with all this. The beer and the percocets and the lack of sleep are all piling up on him, not to mention having to sit on the edge of their bed, holding Meyer by his shoulders as he drank water and biting the inside of his cheek every time he made one of those pained noises that stab him right in the gut. If he were along he might say fuck it and put his head down on the table. But he barely knows this guy, and if they really are going to be business partners he can't let him see him like that. If there's one thing he's learned it's how dangerous it is to show any sign of weakness around people you do business with. So he just scrubs his hands over his face and slumps where he is.]

[magnets]

[ Jesse could snap back at Charlie, almost does until he turns back to the guy and really soaks in how wrung out he looks right now. He drops the spoon in the soup and sighs, scratching a thumb at his brow line. ]

Break a chair or somethin', man. How about ya don't start takin' it out on me? [ But to his credit, he starts looking through the cupboards, pulling them open and pawing haphazardly through them. ] Mosquito bites your ass, you don't start- gunnin' after the guy the mosquito's keepin' hostage. Christ's sake.

[dowhatisays]

Already broke one. Meyer keeps giving me shit for it since it ain't like we can goes out and get more.

[Maybe he can shoot one of the cameras again, that felt good. But they only got so many bullets here.]

[magnets]

[ True that. It's not like someone's going out and carving new shit out of trees. ] I don't know, man, punch some damn pillows or somethin'. [ Their options really are limited here, so long as the guys upstairs aren't repairing or replenishing anything here. ]

[ Jesse digs a canister out of the back of one of the cupboards, rolls it in his hands as he reads the label. He glances back at Charlie momentarily, flashes the container at him as he straightens up. ] How long you guys been partners for? I just, uh. [ Back to looking at the bottle in his hands, and then back to the soup with a shrug-roll of his shoulder. ] Ya seem to really care about him. Ain't much honor among us thieves, it's kinda- rare.

[ What the fuck is oregano anyway? Whatever, it's better than nothing. ]

[dowhatisays]

[Charlie smiles, just a little. People are often commenting on that - the way they seem to trust each other implicitly in a business where it's wisest not to trust anyone.]

We met when we was kids, back in the Lower East Side. He was nine, I was fourteen. We kinda stuck with each other since then.