Question: Where is Hermes?
Answer: He's sitting on the porch out in front of Casa Sherman-Townshend and smoking a cigarette. To be polite about it, he looks like five pounds of shit in a two pound bag -- tired, a little too thin, and like he's been wearing the same clothes for the past two weeks.
Nobody would ever accuse John of being disciplined, but he does have a schedule of sorts that keeps him -- mostly -- out of trouble. Today, he heads straight for the Bureau, in hopes of sorting out his thoughts on a reoccuring and, despite his best efforts, troubling incident. His training allows for a certain kind of mindlessness that cleans things up in his head, relaxes him, and makes him feel as if he's accomplishing something instead of just burning dirt.
Today he'll have to work hard, though. Maybe it's not good to believe he can sort out his problems through becoming really fucking scary with his fire. The other way doesn't seem attractive either, though.
All the signs of Helena being over at the Sherman-Townshend household are present: Christmas locked outside, a bajillion bottles of water in the fridge, the door to John's room shut, and ... absolutely no noise whatsoever coming from behind it. Which, okay, could be the corkboard but it's not like John covered every single wall AND the door with it.
But they are inside and they are even on the bed, they are just quiet. Possibly because they're fully clothed and John isn't really doing much to change that.
Perhaps it is owing to the fact that she is a 16 year old girl, or perhaps it's the fact that she doesn't usually worry about dressing correctly to incincerate helpless inanimate objects, or maybe it's still 'ieeee boyfriend,' even after the three month mark, but for whatever reason one feels like assigning, it takes Helena forever to get dressed today, and so she is late to meet John.
But eventually she flimberts (yes, flimberts) into existence on the Sherman-Townshend house lawn, looking confused and out-of-sorts, but also like it's Christmas and whatnot. The holiday, not the cat. Although 'confused and out-of-sorts' pretty much covers Helena's general reaction to the feline version.
Warren was remembering why he'd stopped going to the nexus. At least for the most part. Sure the night had turned out better but with everythin with that Dominik guy, things were just a little high on the weird scale for Warren.
So he sought out the people he always went to for advice. Mom and Dad.
For good or bad, there was a great way to find them. So getting a fresh carton of smokes and Snuffles, he went out to the porch. Taking a seat on the steps, he let the silly mutt play while he packed a fresh pack and waited. He knew that, eventually, one or both of them would come out and he could have this talk.
So the community has an icon now, and I changed the layout because the old one was making my eyes bleed. It's just a standard LJ layout because I can't be arsed to look for a new one. Maybe I will do that some day! But at least the community has an icon now. :D
I deleted most of the user info because it was A) out of date and B) hideous, which bothers me. Maybe if people wanted to they could submit just like a one paragraph bio thingie? If not, is no big, I will make some shit up.
On the kitchen table, which is miraculously still standing after the great dinner extravaganza, are a stack of papers, weighted down with a carton of cigarettes because A) Christmas and B) hahaha cigarettes.
They're nicely official and legal and were processed entirely without Warren's consent, so this whole 'adoption' thing is a bit of a gamble. But he's 18 now, so it really only matters for health insurance purposes.
There is also a note!
This is mostly a moot point now, really, but we wanted to do it anyway. John doesn't use our last name, but we figured we'd give you the option if you wanted, so there are forms for that too.
Liz and Henry
The nice thing about spaghetti is that it's very simple to make vegetarian. And it takes very little effort. And Liz can make it without setting the kitchen on fire.
Perhaps Henry is assisting by making salad or something, because he is a good husband that way. Liz is reminded of the...two weeks or so where it was just she and Henry living in the house, and dinner was utterly painless because she only had to summon one other person.
Now there are two 'children,'
one boyfriend -- TWO boyfriends (insert Count related joke here, ah ah ah), one girlfriend, and a husband to somehow corrall. She entertains yelling very loudly in some kind of sitcom related manner, but rejects this immediately as being hideously out of character likely to make her headache worse.
There is spaghetti! And salad (assuming Henry made it :D)! And whatever else people have with pasta. People should come eat things without requiring her to ask them. Liz will be out on the porch smoking and not being at all nervous about meeting Helena. Or Peter. Or anyone accidentally stepping on any of the animals.
This was basically not at all where she thought she'd be at 29. It's nice in that way.
Out of hearing of Helena's parents, John huffs out an aggrieved sort of sigh and squeezes her hand.
"Sorry," he says, though he doesn't sound very sorry. "God, that was weird. Wanna go vandalize something?"
It's possibly a joke! Or only half a joke, really, because immature or not, breaking stuff is fun, and stress-relieving, not that the dinner was stressful, per se. It had just been very unexpected, in every facet. He doesn't feel he did as well as he could have, particularly with Abe, but his credibility was strained ten minutes into the entire process. Speaking of which, the second they step outside, he's going to light up and take just one deep inhale.
Hermes and Henry have arrived at the BRPD hospital to
act like total idiots in the semi-privacy of Liz's room check up on Liz and bring her some fruit. They've come prepared with all the necessary supplies: food (LOTS), hats, and no sense of shame. How could this plan go wrong?
"Okay?" Fidget, fidget, how's the hat looking? "You ready?"