Philip LaFresque and Jack Daniel's depressing day in the kitchen [29/??? artefacts collected]

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ And then this happened and Philip was back in his body. Just like that. Just... like that.

Not that the time off was a breeze, oh no. The things he said to some people, the things Clarence did, but... there are the things he didn't do. The things he could've done so easily and yet--

And yet Philip is back in his body and nobody is hurt. Nobody

Comments

[private video forever]

[usskickass]

[She's so embarrassed that she almost goes to text instead. But it ain't worth the fiddling, so...]

I kinda guessed that, yeah.

[private video forever]

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ ...which makes him worried just how much she guessed or rather what exactly she guessed instead. Either way... ]

I don't- There isn't... much else to say, I-- Sorry. Again. It- it won't happen again.

[ That last part might not have sounded entirely convinced. ]

[usskickass]

So I don't have to put my blackberry thingy in a drawer after the next event?

[sadfreezingbrit]

Your blackb-- right.

[ Sorry, little 2001 moment here. He laughs weakly. ]

I, um. I hope not.

[Audio]

[dashboardlite]

[Dean wasn't sure how long he'd have to wait before he heard some bad news - whether it was from somebody else, or straight from the horse's mouth. A few anxious days spent drowning his liver in booze, not knowing whether or not he should hunt down his friend's meatsuit (...again), hours spent feeling guilty about life, the universe, and everything-

And knowing that Philip feels worse makes Dean wish he wasn't so goddamn helpless.

But he calls back. It's what friends do.]

...hey, uh. Phil? You there?

[Audio]

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ Philip reaches for his transmission device quicker than he expected. ]

Dean! I-- Yeah, I'm... I'm here, are you-- Are you okay?

[Audio]

[dashboardlite]

'm fine.

[There's a sloshing sound. Philip might recognize it as the melodious call of the elusive whiskey bottle. Dean clears his throat (because damn, it's hoarse), and adds:]

I was gonna ask about you. You were kinda...more worse-off than me, dude.

[Audio]

[sadfreezingbrit]

I was just dead. I walked it off.

[ Finally. Finally he can do what he wanted to do since the moment he came back to life. Pretend that he's perfectly fine, that it's not a big deal. Pretend that he already forgot all about it and that Dean's voice doesn't still make his stomach tie itself into all sorts of knots, because ]

It wasn't your fault.

[itsahotone]

[Wow, that doesn't sound slightly creepy and ominous at all. She's pretty hesitant to answer, since he was so suddenly terrifying and also she still feels a little guilty for the whole poison thing. So you know. Logic.

But finally, she does answer.]

...How do I know this isn't revenge?

[sadfreezingbrit]

You don't, [ he mumbles to himself, hardly blaming her for being suspicious. ]

Because... because you didn't do anything I'd need to take revenge for.

[ And he really wishes he'd been the first to talk to her after his death rather than cleaning up Clarence's mess on top of everything.

...Look, bring a knife, bring a gun, I don't care, just... please, I've got to tell you something.

[ And fast, before he realises what a terrible idea this is. ]

[itsahotone]

[That wasn't what you said last night, baby~ the other day, Philip.]

...This is still really suspicious sounding. [But she still has Philip's own gun, actually, thanks to Dean. So fine, she'll bring that.

And seriously hope she doesn't need to use it.]

Fine. Where?

[sadfreezingbrit]

Um...

[ Oh right, he should've thought that far ahead. ]

One of the t--

[ NOT one of the tea rooms.

...Not her room. Probably not his either.

The library is too public. The kitchen is too public. The dining hall is too traumatising. And too public. ]

...Third floor, first room.

[ Let's just hope that nobody's actually in there. ]

[libraritology]

[Let's just say that the past few days have been tinted with a somewhat depressing, grey filter, and even the excitement of meeting new people and finding new books to read hasn't quite paved over the rocky gulch that Clarence left behind.

...I'll remind Philip to give you a call as soon as he's available again. Take care, all right?

Not the most reassuring words, either, and it's been so long already.

A bound manuscript titled Style Moderne that Evelyn has only been half-paying attention to most of the time is open in one hand as she pushes the kitchen door wide, stepping inside.]

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ A half-empty glass of whiskey that Philip has devoted his full attention to for some time now prevents him from even noticing the new arrival.

His state of mind and the gloom shrouding his thoughts does not need repeating. Thanks to Dean his decision on Evelyn is no longer as decisive as it once was.

It does open the future up for some better scenarios. And for some which are so, so much worse.

Regardless, his thought process calls for another drink of whiskey.

And when he lifts his head and sees Evie all he can do to stop himself from dropping the glass is--

Nothing. All too unprepared for this encounter it slips through his fingers and shatters on the floor. ]

[libraritology]

[There's nothing quite like the sound of shattering glass to catch your attention, and it's so sudden that she drops her book, glancing up to locate the source of the noise.

Holy f-]

Philip!

[Uh. Uh. U-Um. Oh, goodness. Oh gosh.

Evelyn stares for a long moment, the silence hanging like a heavy curtain until she warily adds:]

...y-you are Philip, aren't you?

[You can never be too careful.]

[sadfreezingbrit]

[ Philip was relieved Evie got away. Back then it was a sentiment accompanied by confusion.

Now it's a sentiment that washes over him and makes him want to stand up, forget everything he thought about not seeing her and hug her, just to confirm that she is really still here, that she's really all right.

...But even waves of relief ebb away, especially when they're being pulled by a question like that. ]

I wouldn't tell you if I wasn't.

[ Because that is why we can't have nice things. ]

GET SOME ACTION

[blimeyjamwalls]

Sick from boozing and written in prose, Daniel has finally accepted that his current life cycle, which looks something like this:

wake up => drink => hallucinate => drink => self-prescribe => fall asleep

...is not going to help him recover from his horrible murder or even be sustainable in the long run. It's gone on even longer than the last time he died. He should really make more friends who don't kill him recreationally.

He's staggered down to the kitchen, severely unkempt and visibly hung over, for some real food. Or, in the very likely event that he can't keep that down, at least an area that isn't his own stuffy, over-lived-in room.

Daniel slips in, sees Philip, draws back an inch and... closes his eyes for several seconds, waiting for the vision to pass.

Which, when he opens them again, it hasn't.

Not that that proves anything.

OH YEAH BABY

[sadfreezingbrit]

Philip himself has slipped into a deep state of confusion and prose. The lure of a soothingly straining bath in misery and booze is ever tempting, but he resists, once again putting off a complete breakdown for the sake of his search for answers.

...Only search turns out to be a very loosely defined term, presently consisting of little more than a deep and thoughtful glance into a glass of whiskey. And another. And the next, all the while asking himself why and what and on occasion even howBut wait, that was a while ago. Now it gets even more bizarre

[blimeyjamwalls]

Well, now Daniel MUST be hallucinating.

Philip's there. Maybe. Reasonably enough, since it's the kitchen, despite the deep sense of unreality that booze and psychosis and multiple resurrection have cast over Daniel's days. But some other hallucinations start out perfectly reasonable as well. So is he second-guessing himself now? Eighth-guessing? Does that mean that it probably is Philip or probably isn't?

...Daniel's brain isn't up to all this heavy lifting just now.

Let's go with real until proven otherwise. In which case, it's good to see the man. Daniel moves further into the kitchen, headed for... nothing in particular, actually; the savoury smell of the soup is making him feel ill.

"Philip?"

1/too lazy to count

[sadfreezingbrit]

You are the PHILIP in question. Your hobbies include PHYSICS of the theoretical variety, MOVIES of which you have seen well over three thousand by now and HEARING VOICES, although only the latter even remotely pertains to your current situation.

You recently found yourself forced to commit TERRIBLE ACTS OF LECHERY on your dearest and most PLATONIC FRIEND.

> Philip: Utter the name of your dearest and most platonic friend in a shaky voice while gazing up in dramatic surprise.