Moping is better with an audience

[howitshouldgo]

Gabriel hasn't gone back to his shop- no, they're still at Dante's, and he doesn't come down very often anymore. This, however, is one of the times that he does. He needs a little air, and he needs to talk to someone who understands. Not to say that Madeline doesn't understand, but...she doesn't. She doesn't need her power like he does. Like

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[tendencytostart]

St. John is poking around behind the bar, as he does, and is...frankly just glad Gabriel isn't Wanda. He just doesn't know what to say to her; "sorry the evil not-a-hospital seems to have eaten your brother," isn't, uh, appropriate, which let's face it, ordinarily does not stop Our Hero, but...he's trying. Sometimes.

Not that he knows what to say to Gabriel, either. Or if he thinks a cheerful, if cautious, 'heya mate,' is appropriate now, just wait until Gabe starts talking! Hooray!

[howitshouldgo]

Gabriel actually does smile at St. John as he sees him. It's devoid of any real happiness, but hey, he's trying. He sits at the bar and asks, "Hello. Can I have one of your specialties?"

If there was any possible way to say I want to see you play with fire without saying it, Gabriel would implement it. Maybe St. John will get the idea, though. It would certainly make him feel a little better.

[tendencytostart]

Fortunately for Gabriel, St. John is at any given moment either getting his lighter out, in the process of messing with it, or is just putting it away due to having finished whatever less than savory thing he was doing, since...well, let's face it, the odds that he's doing anything useful with his particular gift are slim to none. It's not like Gabriel's. Not, uh, unless there's combat.

"You make it sound like I actually do something." His lips slant irrepressibly, but he's half serious. Specialties! Ha! St. John just uh, pours largeish quantities of alcohol together, sets it on fire, and gives it an appalling name. ...maybe that is a specialty. Aaaanway. He watches Gabriel carefully as he goes through the motions. Just in case.

[howitshouldgo]

Gabriel falls short of actually making a whimpering noise as he watches, which is good because that would be really creepy. But he can't see the perfection in the movements now- the elegance is lost on him. He closes his eyes and rubs his temple, leaning heavily on the bar.

Reminding himself that it's good John's at least using the lighter he fixed doesn't help as much as he was hoping. But he does force his eyes to open again and takes the drink gratefully. "Thank you, St. John. And you do a lot more than I do.