ohrlyeh | RECOLLE IC CONTACT

Well, I suppose that somebody with that kind of job wouldn't really...have many friends.

[Their "job" meaning something criminal. He can guess that much. If they were talking about hostages and murder, then it would be ridiculous to assume that their occupation was as innocent as them being messengers or deliverymen or something.]

[He glances up at John, only to see the flush in his cheeks, a sight that makes him blink.]

Are you okay? [He asks, quietly, even turning his head owlishly to the side in slight confusion.] I mean, if that man was one of his few friends, then it'd make perfect sense why he would search him out.

[A pause. He smiles briefly, brushing a strand of wayward hair behind his ear.]

If I were lost in the middle of the woods, with no one around and no idea where I was, I mean...I'd look for you, for example.

--I'm okay.

[ quickly, eager to convey that.

but john listens quietly; he needed the time to stop himself from running at the mouth, frankly. he picks up his cat, balancing her on her back paws as he touches his forehead to hers. then looks over the cat's shoulder to stare at howard as he continues-- while there's a bit of suspicion in his look, it's ultimately mostly curiosity. ]

[ finally, john relents. with the redness in his face having started to fade, he lets out a puff of air, ruffling his bangs with it. ]

... And with this ability of mine and all, hopefully I'd be able to find you quicker. [ but he does get what's being said. they're kind words. perhaps it's the combination of recent happenings and that most recent memory that has him feeling.. a bit bittersweet, perhaps. he doesn't know. so he's determined to return howard's brief smile with a full one of his own. ] But-- I guess so. It's not like, even if Steinbeck had found you, he wouldn't have been nice to you or anythin'.

[ john just thinks it would've been... howard seeing him interact with other people, being the issue. you know, dragging a captured atsushi behind him and all. but howard knows what... they were capable of anyway. he doesn't want to speculate on it much. ]

[ --and, oh, look. that's a server approaching. please let them have coffee or sweets... ]

Edited 2018-05-31 03:44 (UTC)

You don't think he would've been nice? [A tilt of his head, and then...no, John, perhaps, has a point. He rubs one of the cat's ears between his thumb and forefinger absentmindedly.] Hm. Maybe if he discovered I wasn't his friend, after all.

[There's still things different between him and Lovecraft, isn't there? Even though those are getting less and less by the day. His mouth twists into a frown - oh, wait. There's coffee AND sweets, a great combination.]

[After they've been served, and Howard is already halfway through a cherry danish, he speaks up, after swallowing down a gulp of coffee:]

You know...now that I think about it, Lovecraft and Steinbeck are the names of authors, aren't they?

No, I do think he would've been. [ ... probably. it's not something he can say for certain, even if he had literally been the guy. was. would be. he doesn't know. ] You're probably one of the few people he would've wanted to be nice to? Even if he would've realized somethin' was off pretty quick. That would've been... a situation, I guess.

[ situations ontop of situations! ]

[ with the food and drink having arrived, john can let his cat rest back in his lap. for now. she can't escape being a pliant distraction forever. john picks up a fork, digging into his cake. turns out that it tastes just as delicious as it looks. ]

[ and he peers up at the question, again grateful for the change in topic. ]

—Oh, yeah. Steinbeck and Lovecraft. [ he rubs his chin in thought at it. what a combo. ] My ability's named Grapes of Wrath, as if it all couldn't be any more on the nose. Everyone named after an author, with their powers or whatever bein' named after some work of theirs.

Edited 2018-06-14 01:18 (UTC)

[He opens his mouth to say something to that, but closes it. He realizes that he doesn't even know how he would feel if John came up to him, but it was no longer John. The friendly smile directed at him would belong to John, but it wouldn't be from John, his John. It makes his stomach twist at the thought of it. An imposter greeting him, and he, what would he do? Could he accept that? Steinbeck, Not-John, with all his blood-covered vines, waving a cheerful hello to his partner, his friend, his...]

Well. That would definitely have been a situation.

[He forces down the strange emotions, like bile coming up his throat, and focuses on the sweets to help.]

Grapes of Wrath? [He raises an eyebrow as he swallows down a piece of cake.] Really? That's like... [Why is that?] That's weird. I mean, I honestly thought they were codenames, but you're saying everyone?

... Everyone that I've remembered so far? Yeah.

[ that, or-- characters from books, if he thought on that aspect more. but he thankfully hasn't. so, after carefully chewing another bite of sweets, ]

You know, like Atsushi Nakajima. Chuuya Nakahara. I didn't realize those at first, but there they are. [ his eyes squint, thinking on whoever else howard might already recall through any shared memories. ] Mark Twain, with his Huckleberry Finn & Tom Sawyer. I guess that's not exactly the name of a work, though?

[ alas. he's missed trying to make his own point. ]

Codenames wouldn't be such a bad idea.

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