Standup Vegetable
| Standup Vegetable | |
|---|---|
"I'm great at vibing." | |
| Players | Hyde Park Miel shares wisdom and folds laundry and puts on soothing rain sounds. Roommate of the year. |
When Darwin gets home, the apartment is ripe with two strong smells that mingle. One is lemon, although not real lemon. It's the chemical lemon that comes from cleaning solutions, like somebody scoured every inch of every sink and counter in the apartment with lemon Pledge. The other is sandalwood and ash, from a scented candle Miel obtained and put on the coffee table in front of the couch, sedately doing its modest best to counteract the chemical lemon smell. Of course, there's also the grown-familiar smell of Miel. His autumnal oddness is slightly obscured by the fact that he's been using Darwin's soap and shampoo for days now but he's definitely here. Miel is sitting on the floor with his back to the couch, criss-cross applesauce, as he carefully draws each folded piece of freshly laundered clothing out of the laundry bag and carefully puts it away in the suitcase he has been living out of since he got here. You can tell he's come into a little cash money from somewhere because... he bought a scented candle. No one does that when they're broke. Click-click go the locks on the door, and Darwin steps inside, looking... weary. Weary and rattled and all manner of upset. It's clear in his emotions. He drops his keys on the counter, drops his work bag off to the side somewhere. "It smells nice in here," he says, voice tight. For the moment, he keeps still, standing near the kitchenette, flexing his fingers. "You did the laundry?" The sound of key and lock is enough to draw Miel's attention from his task, and his hands pause even as he shifts, shoving one knee beneath himself preparatory to standing up, but not actually doing so. He tilts his head with the shade of a smile on his lips. "Seemed only fair," he says. "I did say I'd keep the place clean." "You did," Darwin says, then holds his hand out, flat and low, gesturing for Miel to keep seated (if he chooses). "It's great. One less thing to worry about." He smiles, then moves for his bedroom. "Could you excuse me real quick? I'll be right out." The bedroom door shuts with a quiet click. A few seconds later, the distinct sound of a dog just going to town on a chew toy can be heard, a vicious thrashing that lasts about a minute. Miel tilts his head even further to one side, and his smile lifts despite himself at the corners as he identifies the sound. He stands straight, bare feet padding lightly over the rug. He knocks lightly on the door and says through the paneling, "You can absolutely have privacy, but you really don't need to hide that from me. Just so you know." There's a long pause. Then, the door opens, and a silver wolf bonks its head into Miel's middle with a faint whine. Miel whuffs a soft sound that might bear some kinship to a laugh with the sudden impact. He drops to one knee before the silver-haired beast and looks into the lupine eyes. He digs his fingers into the ruff, scratching deep to find the warm skin beneath the thick layers of protective fluff, like you might do with a hairy dog as opposed to a pack animal that could rip your throat out as soon as sniff you. "Rough night, huh," he says, pitching his tone rhetorically. "Well, at least it's a rough night but you come home to a clean bathroom, right?" Oh hell yeah that's the spot. Darwin lifts his snout to allow all the access to the summer pelt at his neck. He looks like he might just start /licking/ but gets some control over himself and takes a few steps back. In an instant, Darwin is back in his human guise, clothes and everything, standing above Miel and no longer in contact. "You have no idea how grateful I am for that," he says with a little laugh. "Oh-- Listen. I talked to Solomon about the whole... emotional feeding thing. I suspect that you haven't... sampled? Me? That sounds weird. But why not? Do wolves taste bad?" Miel's smile flashes bright, and then fades quickly with the question. He stays kneeling for a moment longer with the weight of his brow pulling his thick, dark brows together. "Uhm," he says. "I don't know. It seemed like it would be ... weird. Rude. Altering the terms of our agreement without your knowledge, kind of. Not right." He scours his hands over his jeans and then rises, fluid but slow, as he regains his feet. His fingers flex and curl as he drops his hands to his sides. "What the heck did he tell you?"
"I-- what?" Miel drags his hand back over his head, rumpling the lines of his hair in the scrub of his fingers. "Why do you want to give me more?" he asks. He steps forward again, abridging the space that was just left between them. He catches hold of Darwin by one shoulder, coming up behind him. "Why do you think I'll disappear?" He rocks forward onto his toes, leaning close to leave another question on his lips, close to Darwin's ear. "I don't know if you've noticed but I've got a pretty sweet deal here already." "I think he meant in the more fairy tale manner. A fairy does a favor for you, then when it's acknowledged, it poofs." Darwin stills as Miel's hand settles on his shoulder, and he finds himself leaning back against the touch before he realizes it. "Sweet deal?" Something prompts him to draw away, turning to face Miel outside personal bubbles. He smiles. "I just don't want you to go hungry." Miel's dark gaze lickers over Darwin's features - taking in the subtle shifts, their current closeness, the shade of his smile. "There's plenty of raw and ugly emotions in this city," he says gently. They're almost nose to nose as he frowns, dark eyes darting down Darwin's frame, his clothes, and then back up. "I won't starve. Anyway, you already seem kind of run down tonight. Last thing you need is to spend yourself //more// for me." Darwin watches Miel's eyes as they fall, then lift, averting his own gaze when they meet again. He swallows, and his hand sways where it hangs, knuckles brushing briefly against Miel's. The heat on his blush is obvious. But then he eels away, out of the kitchenette and back into the living room. "I attempted to broker some cooperation between some people. Encountered one of my own. Felt like he was going to snap my head off my neck at any second. He was not pleased with the proposed ideas and kept calling me Stringbean." Miel's gaze follows Darwin from the kitchenette. He stays behind for a beat's pause, a few heartbeats, and then goes to get a glass of water as though that was what he intended all along. Then, thinking about it, he pulls down a second glass and fills it for Darwin, because water is good for you. "Teacher of mine once told me that the art of compromise is ensuring that every party leaves unhappy, but sure that the other parties are //less// happy. No one gets all of what they want, but no one walks away empty-handed." He emerges from the kitchenette, a glass in each hand. Smile faint, he says, "Is this a helpful fortune cookie for you? For what it's worth, I always liked green beans. That's what a stringbean is, right? Respectable, standup vegetable, goes with everything. He should be so lucky to be as charismatic as a green bean." Darwin hooks his hand against the back of his neck, unable to keep from smiling. How can he not. Miel is being positively /charming/. "A standup vegetable, huh. That's a nice way to put it. Your teacher sounds smart." He sheds his overcoat, drapes it on the arm of the couch, and takes the second glass from Miel. Water is indeed good for you. "It was just... tense. The whole time." He slumps into one corner of the couch and takes a long drink. Miel takes a long swallow of the water and wanders around to the other side of the couch, tucking one leg beneath him so that he perches atop his own ankle, watching Darwin from beneath the slant of his lashes. "Sounds like it," he says. "Sometimes people find it hard to accept solutions they didn't come up with themselves. Sorry it made your night so rough." "It's alright. I'm home now and it smells nice here and... I have company." Darwin sinks against the couch back and pulls a steady breath. "I won't take up your bed much longer," he promises. "Just trying to get the right vibe going. Solomon had to talk me down in texts. Bastard's useful." "Hey, it's your home, and it's not like it's that late. Stay as long as you need. I wouldn't chase you out." Miel gives him a tilted smile. "I can be useful, too, y'know," he says. "I'm great at vibing. Do you like listening to storms? I found a thing on my phone." He looks vaguely proud of himself for mastering basic ... phone as he adds, "It's free!" Darwin takes another long drink, downing half the glass. He sets it on the coffee table, his grin wider now, because damnit, Miel is cute. "I love listening to storms. Are you really offering to sit here and listen to storms with me? That's not gonna' be boring for you?" Miel rolls his shoulders in an easy shrug. "I don't--" He pauses for a moment, considers. He looks off into the middle distance, swinging his leg outward at a loose diagonal. "I don't really get bored," he says. "Not anymore. Anyway, if I can help you feel better, I'd like to." Darwin tips his head slightly as Miel stares into the distance. Then he mirrors that easy shrug. "Okay. Hit play then. Glad to see you expanding your app knowledge." Miel starts the app paying the soft rush of rain and the distant rumble of thunder. He checks the power on the phone and then leans forward to set it down on the coffee table. After a thoughtful pause, he blows out the scented candle. "Just in case," he says, with a slightly exaggerated, wiggly shrug. "If somebody falls asleep to this we definitely don't want to burn down the place." Darwin rolls his head back, cushioned against the draped blankets. "Thanks, Miel," he whispers, closing his eyes to zone out to the sounds and fading scent of a snuffed flame. And Miel doesn't disappear, even a little bit. | |