Is this a "Grift, please leave for the remainder of the evening and most likely part of the night" guest, or... actually, I must admit, I can't think of any other type of guest. What's going on?
[When Grift had written in the journal, he was just heading home from the Wilderness, where he had spent all day, quite happily. First he watched a movie - a gangster film no less - and then went looting. By the time he swung back into his apartment, there were ten hats stacked tightly on his head, and a number of canvas bags looped around his arms. Closing the journal, he put the stack of hats onto the edge of his bed, and tucked the pile of boxes of shoes he had acquired by the boxes of champagne stacked in the corner.
Amongst the mass of clothing in the bags, there was a teddy bear, a kazoo, a condensed tower of lego, various shiny looking knick knacks and a small frying pan. He had been disappointed that there was no place for firearms to loot, but he had settled for novelty salt and pepper grinders instead.
He liked the mall, he really did. Hopefully Chapel's apparent gigantic ornament to the Lord wouldn't darken his day.]
[Chapel hadn't even been to the mall yet. He'd spent some time working on the cross down in the scavengers' yard, fixing up what he could. Gene would probably be helpful if that kind of thing was his job, but it had taken almost all of Chapel's accumulated money just to pay for the thing. Further installments would have to wait. Afterward, he'd wrapped it up in some canvas and straps he'd purchased in the marketplace, then written to Grift and headed home.
He was looking forward to showing off his new acquisition with absurd amusement. His roommate might not like church decorations, but he had a feeling Grift would feel otherwise about what was inside.
Hefting the cross over his shoulder, not paying much heed to the mannequins that insisted on following him around, he grinned as he entered the apartment and saw the sheer mass of stuff that had accumulated in his absence. Apparently, he'd been right to mention the need for space.]
Been shopping, Grift? It's a little late to stock up for winter.
Oh, [Grift says, cheerfully,] it's never too late to stock up. Have you been to the Wilderness yet? [He shakes his head in amazement.] They've got everything there.
[He leaps to his feet, ignoring the chorus going on behind him (SHOES! SHOES! SHOES! SHOES! SHOES! HATS! SHOES!) to pad in Chapel's direction, staring at the cross in shock.]
Oh--Jesus, Chapel. Couldn't you have just gotten a necklace like normal people?
Not yet--I've been busy with this. I might have to pay it a visit later.
[He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Grift's reaction, even if it did inspire a chuckle. He hadn't expected his roommate to fall over himself with enthusiasm, but apparently the new acquisition was a little much for him.]
A necklace? Hardly! Nah, that sort of thing is for the ladies. I think this is going to fit in here just fine.
It's not going to be a problem, is it?
[And in the background, the mannequin chorus started cooing over his holy endowment.]
No, earrings are for the ladies. Giant crosses are for the insane. [Grift squints at it, trying to decide whether he finds it offensive or just strange.]
Is it going to be a problem? Hm. Yes, that's a good one. Let's wait for me to catch on fire, and then I'll be able to give you a proper answer.
[He reaches out as if to touch it, then pauses and retracts his hand, almost afraid it's going to bite him. Behind him, his own chorus begins to chant about hellfire and Grift's imminent place in it. He can hear something about bones blackening and organs curling, and he frowns disapprovingly at them.]
What, the fact that it could save your soul isn't enough?
[It was a rhetorical question. Before Grift could answer, Chapel reached over and with a flick of his wrist, unclasped the main buckled that held the canvas wrapping closed. It slid away to reveal the cross's true nature--rusted and in need of repair, but unmistakably dangerous.
Casually, he reached over and flipped open the right arm compartment to reveal three guns in the slots. More were ready to be filled, but these were all he had so far. Then he just stood back and waited for Grift's reaction.]
[The sight of the clearly weapon-like cross elicits a loud gasp from Grift, and he leans forward, eyes shining. Grift loves many things in life. Easy women. Liquor. Hats. Material pleasures. Good food.
One of these things are large guns. Small guns, too. Anything that booms and causes dreadful harm, he finds fascinating. For the instance, his elaborate speech and carefully composed face drops in amazement.]
Oh, you've got to be... you're... this--oh! You blasphemous devil, you.
[He contemplates it for a moment more, a faint smile on his face.]
[It was a damn heavy piece of equipment, after all. But if he could handle it, Grift probably could. If not--well, they were both grown adults.
Chapel didn't mind letting Grift see it. In its current state, there wasn't a lot he could do to mess it up, and Chapel wasn't a selfish guy. He felt pretty content just having it here, like it was something he'd been missing for a while and just hadn't noticed.]
[When Chapel gives permission, Grift doesn't waste any time asking questions. He takes it from him, gingerly at first, then realizing how heavy it is, handles it with far less dexterity. His knees buckle underneath the weight at first, but the expression upon his face is far too happy to betray any humiliation about that when his roommate seems able to swing it about like a mad man. Regaining his balance, he checks it out, fingertips skimming every surface. Rusty, but it'll sure be smooth once it gets repai--
A ridge in the cross?]
Helo, there...
[It opens up, reveals a machine gun and Grift in turn reveals a side of himself that he had managed to keep hidden for far too long. Eyes filled with glee, he lets out a shriek that's positively girlish.]
God Almighty! A machine gun! An honest-to-god machine gun! Aw, it's gorgeous.
[He runs his hands across it, the touch of his fingers far more reverent than he has handled anything else--or a real cross, come to think of it.]
[All right, this was just adorable. Which was a very strange way to think of his debauchery-loving friend, but accurate all the same.]
Ha! You're going to make me blush. Glad you like it. I take it you won't mind having it around.
[He reaches into his jacket and takes out a cigarette. Ah--between it, the cross guns and their combined liquor stash, he had most of what he needed.]
It was mine, I'm pretty sure--before the sphere. I remembered something wrapped up a lot like this was, and how many of these things do you normally see?
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( ... )
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...A cross? How big--
Never mind, I don't want to know. That better be one fine cross, that's all I'm saying.
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Amongst the mass of clothing in the bags, there was a teddy bear, a kazoo, a condensed tower of lego, various shiny looking knick knacks and a small frying pan. He had been disappointed that there was no place for firearms to loot, but he had settled for novelty salt and pepper grinders instead.
He liked the mall, he really did. Hopefully Chapel's apparent gigantic ornament to the Lord wouldn't darken his day.]
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He was looking forward to showing off his new acquisition with absurd amusement. His roommate might not like church decorations, but he had a feeling Grift would feel otherwise about what was inside.
Hefting the cross over his shoulder, not paying much heed to the mannequins that insisted on following him around, he grinned as he entered the apartment and saw the sheer mass of stuff that had accumulated in his absence. Apparently, he'd been right to mention the need for space.]
Been shopping, Grift? It's a little late to stock up for winter.
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[He leaps to his feet, ignoring the chorus going on behind him (SHOES! SHOES! SHOES! SHOES! SHOES! HATS! SHOES!) to pad in Chapel's direction, staring at the cross in shock.]
Oh--Jesus, Chapel. Couldn't you have just gotten a necklace like normal people?
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[He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Grift's reaction, even if it did inspire a chuckle. He hadn't expected his roommate to fall over himself with enthusiasm, but apparently the new acquisition was a little much for him.]
A necklace? Hardly! Nah, that sort of thing is for the ladies. I think this is going to fit in here just fine.
It's not going to be a problem, is it?
[And in the background, the mannequin chorus started cooing over his holy endowment.]
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Is it going to be a problem? Hm. Yes, that's a good one. Let's wait for me to catch on fire, and then I'll be able to give you a proper answer.
[He reaches out as if to touch it, then pauses and retracts his hand, almost afraid it's going to bite him. Behind him, his own chorus begins to chant about hellfire and Grift's imminent place in it. He can hear something about bones blackening and organs curling, and he frowns disapprovingly at them.]
So, what exactly am I to like about this?
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[It was a rhetorical question. Before Grift could answer, Chapel reached over and with a flick of his wrist, unclasped the main buckled that held the canvas wrapping closed. It slid away to reveal the cross's true nature--rusted and in need of repair, but unmistakably dangerous.
Casually, he reached over and flipped open the right arm compartment to reveal three guns in the slots. More were ready to be filled, but these were all he had so far. Then he just stood back and waited for Grift's reaction.]
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One of these things are large guns. Small guns, too. Anything that booms and causes dreadful harm, he finds fascinating. For the instance, his elaborate speech and carefully composed face drops in amazement.]
Oh, you've got to be... you're... this--oh! You blasphemous devil, you.
[He contemplates it for a moment more, a faint smile on his face.]
...Can I touch it?
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...not literally.
[It was a damn heavy piece of equipment, after all. But if he could handle it, Grift probably could. If not--well, they were both grown adults.
Chapel didn't mind letting Grift see it. In its current state, there wasn't a lot he could do to mess it up, and Chapel wasn't a selfish guy. He felt pretty content just having it here, like it was something he'd been missing for a while and just hadn't noticed.]
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A ridge in the cross?]
Helo, there...
[It opens up, reveals a machine gun and Grift in turn reveals a side of himself that he had managed to keep hidden for far too long. Eyes filled with glee, he lets out a shriek that's positively girlish.]
God Almighty! A machine gun! An honest-to-god machine gun! Aw, it's gorgeous.
[He runs his hands across it, the touch of his fingers far more reverent than he has handled anything else--or a real cross, come to think of it.]
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Ha! You're going to make me blush. Glad you like it. I take it you won't mind having it around.
[He reaches into his jacket and takes out a cigarette. Ah--between it, the cross guns and their combined liquor stash, he had most of what he needed.]
It was mine, I'm pretty sure--before the sphere. I remembered something wrapped up a lot like this was, and how many of these things do you normally see?
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