(Untitled)

[453gof_flesh]

Who: Clapet and you!
Where: All over the place!
What: A Day in the Life of your resident Butcher.
When: Today!
Warnings: Creeperness.

See comments, folks. Add your own if you want.

Comments

dining hall, early morning.

[453gof_flesh]

[There is fried breakfast today. Clapet, a great lover of all things meat is very pleased, and currently munching on a sausage. He is drinking a cup of very black coffee, and has a pack of cigarettes on the table next to him.]

dining hall, early morning.

[doctor_j_crane]

[Crane is in fried breakfast land, currently deciding whether the bacon or the sausage is a more horrifying prospect. But hey, look, that guy over there has cigarettes on his table. Now that gets Crane's interest.] Do you have a lighter? [Fire makers are useful, after all.]

Re: dining hall, early morning.

[453gof_flesh]

[Clapet instinctively goes for his shirt pocket,] Why, do you need a light? [He might have been a greedy capitalist, but giving someone a light wasn't much trouble. He fished his lighter out of his pocket, then gave Crane a slightly skeptical look,]

Do you even smoke?

dining hall, early morning.

[doctor_j_crane]

Yes, I do. [Crane didn't, but he didn't want to be to make his angle too obvious.]

Do you have matches or a lighter? [Matches were far less valuable, while the potential of a lighter was very, very interesting.]

mid morning; wherever donny does his barber-shop-thing.

[453gof_flesh]

[Clapet is idly standing around, cleaning up hair, looking incredibly bored, and just a little bitter.

Creepiest Barber Shop employee since Sweeney Todd, don'tcha know?]

mid morning; your mom's house

[actuallyagolem]

[While Clapet is over in the corner being a Debbie Downer, Donny is humming to himself and cleaning his shears and combs. He doesn't let his inmate keep him down, though at the same time he hates that the guy is bored out of his skull.]

Hey, Clapet, let's sing a song.

Re: mid morning; your mom's house

[453gof_flesh]

A song? [He looks very skeptically at him and shakes his head, then goes back to sweeping hair,]

Why would... what kind of song, Sergent?

[actuallyagolem]

I dunno. Something French? Frère Jacques?

[Donny grins to himself.]

just after lunch, third floor common room.

[453gof_flesh]

[Clapet has a giant salami he bought in port over his shoulder. It lasts forever and doesn't need a fridge. He is trying to get to the third floor common room unnoticed so he can hide it in a cupboard there. Just in case the Barge decides to take his room off him again.]

[darknessb4me]

[Ah, but there's something already hiding there - a woman's gold locket on a fine chain, coiled in the back corner but glimmering expensively.]

[453gof_flesh]

[Clapet pulls open the cupboard and spots something glimmering. He sets down his salami on a nearby table and looks inside a little closer. He sticks his hand inside, hovering over it for a minute, because he doesn't know what some things can do here, but it's gold - you don't pass up that kind of thing. There's some serious debating whether he should take it or not, but, after a quick check over both shoulders, he grabs the locket and stuffs it in a pocket.]

afternoon, library

[453gof_flesh]

[The recent flood struck a slight cord with Clapet, and he's searching through the library for some of the books he used to buy his daughter... well, a long time ago. He's desperately trying not to be noticed, but it's hard to miss a burly butcher man.]

evening, dinner.

[453gof_flesh]

[Clapet is concentrating on eating his meat first, but will eventually get around to eating the vegetables. Promise.]

Re: evening, dinner.

[ingenue_bait]

[Erik is reluctantly serving dinner. He does so with a desultory flick of his wrist as he plops various food items onto plates. He looks more as if he belongs at a funeral than dinner, if funerals came with black masks.]

Re: evening, dinner.

[453gof_flesh]

[Clapet frowned a little.] Not enjoying it? [See, how did people like him get on dinner, but he didn't? Hardly fair.]

Re: evening, dinner.

[ingenue_bait]

Erik is not here to enjoy menial servitude. He is here to... [He thought about this.] Make friends.