Ghostcat shenanigans

[technicallyhellbound]

It had been a few weeks since they'd started this arrangement, and so far the Cat had, in fact, been a surprising amount of help. Enough so that Charles had stopped being mostly on-guard while in his presence and had even taken the 'puppy' nickname in stride, though he still hadn't really looked too deeply at why it didn't bother him as much as it probably should.

That particular day was neither a Monday nor a Friday, and was in fact a Wednesday, so while it wasn't one of their scheduled briefings, it was a visit that had been arranged in advance, a few hours while Crystal and Charles were at a concert, the kind of thing that while Edwin enjoyed being invited to, really wasn't the kind of thing he actually enjoyed going to, and the others both knew it, which was why they continued to invite him, even if he always declined.

It was late afternoon, not yet early evening when he stepped out of the mirror into the cannery, tugging at the collar of his slipover in much the same way he did the lapels of his usual jacket. He'd been branching out from his usual look, just a little, in bits and pieces, and now had something of a range of shades of those softer jumpers, this one was a deep bottle-green and was nearly a cowl-neck, but definitely less severe than his usual look.

It had been raining in London, or rather it had been misting heavily, and he wasn't quite sure if it was still raining here or if it had just finished, there wasn't the same kind of moisture in the air, which meant that if it was raining it hadn't been doing so for long, and all he knew was that the Cat had something planned for them to do, he was only now considering that he probably should have asked a few more questions beforehand.

Comments

[catting]

The Cat watches Edwin work, noticing the little mote of surprise in his raised eyebrows but not a single other thing — no little gasp like there had been the first time the Cat had done something shocking and low-key sexually charged around him, no widening of his eyes, just a blip in attention and then a swift refocusing — and feeling it settle in his chest somewhere that doesn't feel particularly warm, but doesn't feel all that uncomfortable either. Maybe this is what coming to terms feels like. He thought it'd be more dramatic.

"Mm, good to hear. I like this shirt." He says with a vauge little smile once Edwin releases his arm and he can stand alone and intact once more. "It feels dumb to say I'm impressed with your tidy work, since everything you do is frustratingly precise, but this is something else." He flexes his arm, impressed by the fact he can still move without any of his circulation being sacrificed, and smiles a little more sharply. "They really don't teach the important shit in school any more, huh? If you were anyone else, I'd have had to drip all the way back to the beach."

He looks over Edwin's shoulder, at the mouth of the interior cave that leads back to the main chamber and out toward sunlight.

"And speaking of the beach — we shouldn't hang out in here too long. I try to limit exposure where I can. Makes me feel all..." He shrugs his shoulders, halfway between a twitch and a shudder. "Static-y."

And then, a thought strikes him, and his tone isn't exactly empathetic, but it does sound a little warmer when he speaks: "You said this shit will linger with you, though, right? Are you good with the happy residents of Port Townsend seeing a bow tie outside a wedding for the first time in like eighty years?"

[technicallyhellbound]

If he'd been aiming for shocking, he was going to have to try harder, because Edwin had learned a few things and wasn't as easy to startle as he had been then. Of course, he also wasn't considering other applications of that tongue, not because he wasn't interested, but simply because they hadn't occurred to him when he was focused on the task at hand.

The question, however, got a soft smile, a genuine warmth in his tone as he replied, "You're the one with social capital to lose here, or to gain, I suppose." His head tilted, brows both lifting once more even as he caught gently at the Cat's elbow, careful not to apply too much pressure where there was a still-healing injury, "Is it going to tarnish your reputation to be seen with me, even if it is only for a half hour or so?"

The question was genuine, because Edwin, of all people, knew just how tenuous one's social standing could be, and how easily it could be tipped, for better or for worse, and he didn't want to be the cause of the Cat's losing esteem.