Entry tags:
Informal visit (For Metody)
The Shadow is hard at work coordinating things from the Rettigue apartment, today. The break from hunting out Khan's activities in his alternate's world is merely an opportunity to chase criminals in his own. Unavailable to gather forces for multiple raids and without the time to head up those operations himself, he's stuck compiling information and passing it to legal authorities through very careful channels. It's a lot of paperwork, and very tedious, but it gives him a physical rest he needs from his other activities.
When Metody arrives, he's in the most worn spot in the whole place; the center of the black plush sofa, bent over the coffee table. He regards his visitor over the rims of his reading glasses. "You've looked better. Coffee or tea?" The paperwork is shuffled neatly into a folder, out of sight.
The apartment is spacious and spartan, with sleek dark furniture. There's a grouping of the sofa and a few black armchairs around a black metal coffee table, all arranged on a vast Oriental rug. A bookshelf built into the wall opposite the sofa holds a television set that is archaic by Metody's standards, fewer books than one might expect, a sleek stereo system, and in spots of honour a card bearing Chinese calligraphy by Myra and the wrappings and knife Metody sent for Christmas. A floor to ceiling window dominates another wall, but the drapes are only open a crack. Apart from the kitchen doorway and a hall, there's little else to be seen in this room. It has quite a bit of open, empty space and the feel of somewhere that is only sporadically lived in.
When Metody arrives, he's in the most worn spot in the whole place; the center of the black plush sofa, bent over the coffee table. He regards his visitor over the rims of his reading glasses. "You've looked better. Coffee or tea?" The paperwork is shuffled neatly into a folder, out of sight.
The apartment is spacious and spartan, with sleek dark furniture. There's a grouping of the sofa and a few black armchairs around a black metal coffee table, all arranged on a vast Oriental rug. A bookshelf built into the wall opposite the sofa holds a television set that is archaic by Metody's standards, fewer books than one might expect, a sleek stereo system, and in spots of honour a card bearing Chinese calligraphy by Myra and the wrappings and knife Metody sent for Christmas. A floor to ceiling window dominates another wall, but the drapes are only open a crack. Apart from the kitchen doorway and a hall, there's little else to be seen in this room. It has quite a bit of open, empty space and the feel of somewhere that is only sporadically lived in.
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And plenty that will kill you dead if you don't. Perhaps he will cautiously take him mushrooming.
"Flying is - that can be hazardous at home, actually. Our skies are fuller than yours. But - " he grins suddenly. " - there's a nice big cliff I know that we could go up and see things."
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"You may not even have the same type of aircraft, and I'm sure my license wouldn't be valid in your world." He shrugs. "Is that an invitation? I haven't been hiking in a while. Not since... mmm. Since last spring." His gaze goes briefly distant as he recalls that day, a break that was wonderful at the time but likely contributed to the collapse of his lung shortly thereafter.
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He trails off a moment, lips silently working as he pondered over the word he wanted, and then he gave up.
"It is. It would be nice to have a guest."
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His gaze drops to his coffee, but this is the only outward concession he will make to his awkwardness. "Thank you. When the Khan matter is over and dealt with..." He'll certainly need a vacation by then, although he may have to catch up on his sleep first.
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He nods a little bit, briefly wondering if the Shadow knows who Khan is - but he must. He saw his face, Metody assumes.
"Or - you know. If you can ever spare a few hours." He smiles a little. "Be like a trip to the zoo."
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Khan's face was just a face, but he was forced into seeing the other man's mind, and that it was his own alternate still haunts him. If it has occurred to him that Metody might have recognized Khan for who he was by the bones, he is not inclined to bring it up.
"That's... well, things are quiet now, but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop." Speaking of time in terms of hours, of which he has few to spare, reminds him to glance at his watch. He's taken time out of paperwork for the social visit.
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"We have sea-whales, too."
When The Shadow glances down at his watch, he guiltily stirs. Oh, ye gods, he was sucking up the man's time. What, exactly, did you say to let someone know that you were enjoying the visit and while you didn't want to cut it short, you also didn't want to take up too much time, and really, it was up to them on whether or not it was time you go?
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"I'm not all that familiar with ocean-going whales, when it comes down to it. I've spent more time in the air than it the water." He's spent more time on dry land than either of the alternatives, but tends to assume that goes without saying.
The Shadow drops his watch arm again without comment, although he makes a brief glance at the waiting paperwork. It looms, demanding, but he is also enjoying the much needed break. Semi-retirement doesn't look so bad, now that he's working in two worlds at once and wearing himself down at it. "I can't say when the current matter will be resolved, but I'd be glad for a vacation day afterward, assuming I survive." It's an offhand tone, but he's never quite recovered from the last big battle.
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He smiles. "I look forward to it, then, or any other time you might come over and visit."
By the rules of good manners, he now owes The some coffee and polite conversation, after all.
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The old man cracks a smile, albeit a very weary one. "As long as you have coffee, I'd be glad to visit."
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"....chicory with...a...percentage of coffee, plus caffeine and flavor additives?"
That's like coffee, right?
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Clearly, what Metody suggests is nothing like coffee at all.
"Do you not have real coffee? I can give you real coffee. To take home. I had no idea..." Certainly he keeps plenty on hand and he can afford to give some away to those in need.
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"...perhaps...a little...?"
If nothing else, he could serve it to The when he visited.
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Both of the mortar and pestle and the hand cranked variety. Between the two, he feels he can deal with anything.
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He blinks once at the size of the bag, but reaches out to take it with a smile. "Gosh. Thankyou."
Maybe he'll make one cup of coffee for himself. Just one.
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"Not a problem. I always keep some on hand, in every apartment." He resumes his seat with a quiet wheeze, and settles back.
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He grins, cradling the bag in the crook of one arm like a small baby. "I will have to keep that in mind."
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"Sure. But I hope you'll accept some meat in return. I promise, only standard animals."
((Sorry! The past few days were a bit tougher than I thought they'd be.))
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((That's fine! You might look into the writing meme I posted the other day, when you have time.))
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He hesitates, then fidgets with the bag of coffee as he tries to think of something else to say. Nothing comes to mind.
"I...guess I ought to, uh - "
((Oh, spiffy. I'll be sure to check it tonight!))
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