PC - Hansa

[maladied]

Comments

[robopriest]

You kissed me, not the other way around.

[SMH....]


[And then its



huh?]

....Wait. What?

[conchy]

Shall we start keeping score, then? I don't mind. I have a good memory.

[Ah, but something seems to have thrown Hansa off. Lobelia tips his head to one side, quizzical.]

Is something wrong? Don't tell me you've gotten cold feet...

[robopriest]

Are you joking? About the bodies.

[conchy]

What does your intuition tell you...?

[robopriest]

You're not joking.





This is an awful date if it is one.

[conchy]

[Lobelia laughs. He thought Hansa might doubt him. Lose faith in him, if he had it to begin with. It's so funny it hurts.]

Ça me fait mal quand tu ne crois pas en moi. No, Hansa. There are no bodies to be found. My apologies for making a joke in poor taste.

[robopriest]

....Well, you can't say I didn't believe you?

[But he will come a bit closer.]

[conchy]

[And Lobelia will step back. His smile is effortless, something well-worn and easy to slip into even when it doesn't reach his eyes. His hands fold neatly behind his back, a quiet withdrawal masked as poise.]

I suppose I cannot fault you for caution.

[Lobelia turns on his heel to continue on towards the kitchen.]

Come. I'll still give you your tour. No more jokes, oui? Only the disappointment that this is but a humble restaurant— one of many from my travels.

[robopriest]

[He sees that light not reaching the man's eyes - and there's a twinge of something in his chest at it.]

No, I like it. It has a certain. Je nay say qua?

[BAD BUTCHERING OF FRENCH]

[conchy]

[First he hurts his feelings and then he insults his native tongue????? Lobelia looks at him flatly over his shoulder.]

Right. A certain je ne sais quoi. Honestly... maybe there ought to be bodies in the fridge.

[STARTING WITH HANSA'S]

[robopriest]

Por favor, perdóname.

[He laughs a little.]

Really. I'm just making a little fun. I'm not here to get on your nerves.

[conchy]

Oui? I'm afraid I don't follow.

[Now he knows how other people feel when he gets aggressively French at them. Will anything change? Hell no.]

Mm, but you are skilled at getting on people's nerves when you choose to be, aren't you? When did you acquire such a bad habit?

[robopriest]

Please. Forgive me.

[PLEASE LOBELIA YOUR HYPOCRITICISM...]

You know, I don't know. I just feel like it's a way to bully big men who bully the little guy. My form of rebellion.

[conchy]

There's nothing to forgive, Père. Let your mind be at ease.

[FORGIVENESS NOT GRANTED, HE MAD]

Je vois... Bullying for a good cause, is it? But you enjoy it too. You are not without your questionable vices.

[robopriest]

I insulted you just now. I saw it. Did I not?

[You know...he will start to turn away.]

Perhaps I should leave. I clearly started off on the wrong foot. Even my enjoyment can take me too far.

[conchy]

[...]

You were willing to believe I would stash bodies in a restaurant freezer. I can't fault you for that.

[But still... Lobelia hesitates. More than Hansa, he's frustrated with himself.]

It shouldn't bother me.

[And yet it does.]

[robopriest]

Hahaa! Oh. You misunderstood. I didn't think you stored the bodies. I just thought this place would have them to make them more miserable.

[A tilt of the head.]

I can see why that was taken as such. Should have clarified. And anyways, it was an off-color joke. Even for you.

[conchy]

[...Is that it? He just. Misunderstood?? Lobelia's mind blanks. He turns, gliding into the kitchen to pick up a meat cleaver, if only to ground himself. Ignore him. He's processing.]

We do have a trash compactor. Sadly, I've never had the opportunity to see how it handles blessed steel. And now you've made me dreadfully curieux...

[robopriest]

More jokes! Nooo. Spare me.

[He is going to come up from behind him, though.]

...Why were you upset if I did think you stored bodies back there? Do you want me to think the best of you?

[conchy]

You ask such cruel questions with such a gentle face.

Do I want you to think the best of me? Bien sûr. Who wouldn't? But wanting and deserving are not the same, and I've never claimed to be easy to like.

[He taps the flat of the cleaver against his shoulder, as if considering how close he dares come to sincerity without cutting himself open.]

If you had truly believed I kept bodies back there... Mm. Perhaps I feared you would stop looking at me the way you do now.

[A beat, softening, but only slightly.]

Besides, if I ever were to keep corpses on the premises, I'd choose somewhere far more elegant than a restaurant kitchen. I have standards, you know.

[robopriest]

...

[His expression softens.]

You really do like me that much, don't you.

[A gentle observation.]

Ha. [And now, a not so gentle laugh, grinning.] I've already come this far. I don't think your fear is all so warranted. [It's not like he hasn't thought about the possibility before. Even if he disapproves...he's here.] And really? Would you? Keep them in the morgue, please. That's the place for them.

[conchy]

[Ah. So that's how easily Hansa can undo him— one gentle observation, and Lobelia stills. The meat cleaver rests against his shoulder as though it weighs nothing at all. His smile wavers, but only for a breath.]

Mon Dieu... must you say such things while I'm holding a blade?

[A quiet laugh escapes him, low and shaken around the edges. He sets the cleaver down with more care than necessary and turns back toward Hansa.]

If I were wiser, I would deny it. I would say you imagine things, or that you read too deeply into my jokes. But... oui. You are not wrong. I like you more than is sensible. Beaucoup more.

And as for the morgue, very well. If I ever take a life in your honor [lol], I will ensure the body is kept somewhere respectable. Happy?

[robopriest]

More than is sensible. I think that's correct. I would ask people who like me a lot if everything is okay. That's cute, though.

[Even he is self aware how obnoxious he is. He is grinning though, his nose scrunched a little with amusement.]

Don't take a life in my honor, either! I'd be so sad. You don't want to see me sad.

[conchy]

Oh, merci! Call me cute again and I will rethink tossing you in the trash compactor. Your crocodile tears won't sway me.

[He's not cute? He's a grown murderer?? Have some respect.

Mercifully, he leaves the meat cleaver where he'd set it and motions broadly to the kitchen as a whole.]

Ah, but I'm afraid I must disappoint you further and tell you that there is little of interest in this place. If you were looking for secrets, you won't find them here. That is why you called on me, non?

[robopriest]

I said you liking me was cute, not you. Or do you want me to call you cute, too? I would. I always say what I mean, and I mean what I say.

[DOES HE]

Secrets...eh. [He tilts his head, grinning.] No, I called on you because of you. I just wanted to see how you felt being in someplace that seems familiar.