widowed heroine (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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sirenspull_logs2012-03-11 12:21 pm
retraced) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-03-11 12:21 pm
because I promised raincake
Who: Gilbert Nightray and OPEN
When: The afternoon of the 11th
Where: The park near Winthers lake
Summary: Gilbert laments best when there's bad weather.
Warnings: Warnings for soggy cake
[There's a cake in the rain.
Well, more specifically, there's a cake in a box on a bench near a man in the rain.
A box that doesn't reside inside of a bag, and is therefore damp from the rain. And, from the state of it and the man sitting next to it, it's been sitting in the rain for a while. It's a curious sight indeed. While people stroll by with umbrellas overhead and jackets wrapped tightly around themselves to protect from the late winter storm, Gilbert Nightray is sitting forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes staring directly at the soggy ground through his damp hair, a half-finished cigarette hanging between his index and middle fingers.
People have been encouraging him to relax lately, take a rest, spend some time by himself to be alone and sort through his thoughts, to meditate, do yoga--the list goes on and on. It seems different people all have their different ways to unwind and cope, and so far none of them had worked for him. If he's home, he'll clean and bake and fret. If he's at work, he'll clean and bake and fret.
So he's relaxing outside. He's taking a 'breather'. He's trying not to think about obligations and duty and doing his best face his anxiety and stress head on, so he's sitting outside in the rain with a cake in a soaked box.
You know you're curious.]
When: The afternoon of the 11th
Where: The park near Winthers lake
Summary: Gilbert laments best when there's bad weather.
Warnings: Warnings for soggy cake
[There's a cake in the rain.
Well, more specifically, there's a cake in a box on a bench near a man in the rain.
A box that doesn't reside inside of a bag, and is therefore damp from the rain. And, from the state of it and the man sitting next to it, it's been sitting in the rain for a while. It's a curious sight indeed. While people stroll by with umbrellas overhead and jackets wrapped tightly around themselves to protect from the late winter storm, Gilbert Nightray is sitting forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes staring directly at the soggy ground through his damp hair, a half-finished cigarette hanging between his index and middle fingers.
People have been encouraging him to relax lately, take a rest, spend some time by himself to be alone and sort through his thoughts, to meditate, do yoga--the list goes on and on. It seems different people all have their different ways to unwind and cope, and so far none of them had worked for him. If he's home, he'll clean and bake and fret. If he's at work, he'll clean and bake and fret.
So he's relaxing outside. He's taking a 'breather'. He's trying not to think about obligations and duty and doing his best face his anxiety and stress head on, so he's sitting outside in the rain with a cake in a soaked box.
You know you're curious.]
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[Worst subordinate in the world over here. He missed his superior's distress call a few days ago.]
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What? When was this?!
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I just think the lot of you are a bit suicidal, don't you?
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[He mutters towards his feet. The word is laced with both annoyance and relief, but when he raises his head again, his eyes are narrowed cautiously.]
Who are you?
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[He gazes at him calmly.]
What's in the box?
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[And why does this trolling feel so suspiciously close to Break's?]
How did you know who I was?
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[Lucifer just smirks at him and taps his temple]
I had a hunch.
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Is that a power that you ended up with or have always had?
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You're very curious.
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Anyone who walks into this type of conversation without asking questions would be foolish, wouldn't they?
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[Self deprecating as it might be.]
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[He wants to help eat the cake, doesn't he.]