by a route obscure and lonely, haunted by ill angels only...
[Open to threadhopping, but no Roderick tags, please!]
The Kashtta is deteriorating. The signs are everywhere, and have been-in the way the walls seem to be cracking more each day, the paint fading and flaking; in the floors that creak and moan; in the air itself, so dank and foul, just hanging in every open space ( Read more... )
The Kashtta is deteriorating. The signs are everywhere, and have been-in the way the walls seem to be cracking more each day, the paint fading and flaking; in the floors that creak and moan; in the air itself, so dank and foul, just hanging in every open space ( Read more... )
He stopped sleeping in it for a while there, choosing instead to find himself hotel rooms to con his way into because he was fond of sleep and the sheer amount of strangeness that was going on just wasn't working with his sleep schedule. Either that or he slept in the day, whine the strangeness was at a minimum.
However, with certain events that took place last weekend, Neal has been slightly more hesitant to con people out of their very nice hotel rooms.
So this has lead to Neal getting very minimal amounts of sleep and finding various ways to entertain himself during his waking hours. This ranges from wandering the city, to painting, to socializing, to pickpocketing and then returning what he stole, to whatever else crosses his mind and isn't completely out of the realm of being accomplished.
He also drinks a lot of coffee.
Which is what he's doing right now, settled in the kitchen with a warm cup of coffee and an almost contented expression on his face.
He's also paining and that's probably obvious by the state of his clothes, comfortable, well worn things that have a few splotches here and there, and the fact that he has actually set up in the front room of the Kashtta. Normally he takes to painting in his own room but he wanted a change and it seemed as good a place as any to start.
For anyone who might be taking a peak at what he's working on, the scene is a crumbling city, a picture o9f a not-quite-Chicago as it falls to the ground. He blames the Tower, he doesn't normally go in for such things but between the sights and the strange feeling in the air, it seems appropriate.
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He's still waiting for more weird things to start happening every night, for one, and going to sleep starts feeling like letting your guard down after a few nights of that. And he still isn't used to sleeping alone. It takes longer than four months to break the habits of fifteen years -- and that's without taking into account the fact that he usually doesn't have to sleep alone here, either. That hasn't made it any easier to change things, even if he is glad that Neal's usually there.
So Peter is awake and, after getting tired of staring at the ceiling, ends up heading for the kitchen.
(If he knew what he was missing out on, he would be a lot happier that he couldn't sleep.)
He's expecting that he might not be the only one up and about, but he doesn't really expect to run into Neal. He'd noticed Neal heading out most nights, and he'd assumed he was still doing it -- even more so this past week, with the addition that he probably didn't want to ask where he was going.
He'd rather have the company right now, though -- all the weird stuff seems a little easier to ignore when he's not on his own -- so it's kind of a relief to see him sitting there, and even more so to see him looking happy. Peter fixes himself a cup of coffee and then sets himself down next to Neal, watching him as he does. He'll get up again, if Neal wants to be left alone -- though he's not sure why he'd be out here instead of somewhere more private if he did -- but unless he make it clear that he does, Peter is going to try to settle in and relax.
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He sees Peter and grins, moving out of the way fo the coffee maker. Far be it form him to be in the way of Peter Burke and his coffee.
Tapping his mug against Peter's when he settles in, he grins. "I didn't think you'd be up," he points out, taking a drink. "Not that I'm complaining. I don't actually think there is an area of this place that isn't a little unsettling right now."
The kitchen didn't used to be creepy, he remembers that, apparently that stopped being true at some point.
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He hadn't quite decided if he was going with that plan -- he was going to see if walking around made him any more tired -- but he'd rather hang around the kitchen with Neal than try to sleep again, so it's decided now.
"Taking a break from painting?"
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Neal is happy to have him. He might move them into the front room so he can finish what he's doing but he's good with having Peter around. This is generally true of Neal though.
"Yeah, I realized that I hadn't actually had coffee nin a couple of hours and thought I should fix that." He finishes off his cup and pours himself another. He's not going to down this one quite so quickly though.
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He's not going to object to moving as long as it's not into unknown areas, though. He'll probably end up following Neal for the rest of the night, to be honest.
"Oh, well, we can't have that," he responds with a smile, watching Neal make himself another cup. "Are you planning on even trying to sleep at all tonight?"
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Oh good, then they can be the pair of idiots who say up all night in the middle of the crazy storm in the haunted house. Or something.
he just shakes his head, sipping at his coffee. "I have my ppriorites,, Peter. Part of those is making sure I have a steady stream of caffeine in my system until all of this is over." He laughs. "Not here--" Then he catches himself, wanting to kick himself for the remark. But he's tired and he's not thinking as quickly as he should. "I'm sure there are plenty of park benches that I could take a nap on when the storm blows over. Either that or I'm winning out over the sunrise."
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Apparently so. It'll take a lot of coffee, but at least in this case, better to be the idiots who stay up all night than it is to try and sleep? Not that they're aware of their luck, but it's true.
"I thought you'd have higher standards than a park bench, even with everything going on," Peter replies, and carefully doesn't comment on the moment it took to catch himself. He's not asking; it's easier that way. He changes the subject instead. "Until it's over, huh? So you think the weird stuff is temporary?"
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Yes, a lot of coffee. Neal is debating the merits of bringing the coffeemaker with him into the front room. He was considering that before Peter showed up but now he's really doing it.
"I've slept on a park bench before," he says with a shrug. "It could be worse." Changing the subject is good. It probably saves everyone a bit of an awkward conversation. "I'm hoping. Either that or the Tower is going to fall apart and I'm not really looking forward to that." He doesn't know if Peter's opinion on everything would change if they no longer had a place to live but he doesn't actually want to find out.
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He stares down into his coffee cup for a minute, contemplating the odds, before visibly forcing himself to let go of his thoughts. It's not going to do him any good to dwell on it and there's nothing he can do either way.
"Well then, let's hope you're right," he answers as he looks up again. Turning back towards the coffeemaker, he swallows down the last half of his drink and starts to fix himself more. Sleep just keeps seeming like a worse idea.
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He notices that too and looks away. He doesn't want to do anything, doesn't want to try and get Peter's mind off of it and somehow make it worse. It's better to let him come to his own conclusions.
"Yeah," he shrugs, sipping at his coffee again. "I'm thinking about heading back. Are you going to hang out here?"
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He shrugs. "Maybe. Where are you heading?" He's pretty reluctant to part company, and he's not doing very much to hide it. If he doesn't follow Neal he'll probably end up in the kitchen the rest of the night, but right now he is in favor of having people around in general and Neal in particular. At least unless the atmosphere suddenly lightens, but he's not really expecting that to happen.
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"I'm camped out in the front room. I've been considering moving other places but I haven't been brave enough to check if they're habitable. If you want to go scouting for me..." He smiles hopefully.
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"Better not to know," Peter reminds him, though he does contemplate for a moment. "Specific other places, or were you just going to go poking into whatever you could find?"
If he didn't think there was a chance Neal might get bored and go do it on his own, he wouldn't even be asking, in case it encouraged him.
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"Right," he takes a big gulp of his coffee. "The front room it is them." At the question, he shrugs. "I don't know. Somewhere that isn't the front room or the kitchen. They have a music room that I was thinking about looking into, I just wasn't sure if it was in decent shape since i haven't looked in on it since this whole thing started."
At the moment, Neal is a little too tired to go exploring. However, he could very well get that bored once the caffeine hits and he gets bored of painting.
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He shrugs. "I don't think I've seen it lately." Peter did his own explorations, but it was not long after they'd gotten here and he hasn't bothered to look around much since things started getting stranger. "I wouldn't think it would be much worse than it is around here, but who knows. Could be even closer to falling apart."
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