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[adamantlyardent]

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[adamantlyardent]

Hhhow...?

[a little waver in her voice, all frail and such. she's already starting to tear up!!!]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

[He tilts his head.]

[He pours himself that glass, puts the pitcher away, finishes the bite of his sandwich and chugs the lemonade.]

Ah...yeah, I don’t know. I don’t get how anyone can eat a sandwich without mustard either. It’s so dry!

[That’s what she meant, right?]

[adamantlyardent]

[her eyelid twitches, even in the midst of her shock. quickly she realizes that her emotions are wasted here on this absolute idiot, and instead of riding out that wave of weepy joy that she would've rolled with for a hot second, she resorts to what she's used to.]

You...

[y'know. anger.]

Y-you...stupid...! Stupid! IDIOT! MAN!

[that said, she flings the spray bottle at him with all the force she can muster.

(which isn't much considering her str stat.)

(it's the thought that counts.)]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

[It donks off of his head.]

What?! It’s not my fault! I wasn’t here to finish the mustard!!

[adamantlyardent]

UUUUGH!

[Signature Frustrated Noise as she storms out of the kitchen and back upstairs.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

...Did I use up the last of your bread?

I’ll buy more tomorrow! I promise!

[adamantlyardent]

[the stomping upstairs continues, until it's stomping down the hall.

then the stomping returns back down the stairs, and Cecelia returns with a small basket of random bottles of mousse and spray and lotion and such -- all things she just starts lobbing at him while yelling:]

STOP! BEING! STUPID! I can't beLIEVE you! Stupid! You KNOW better, you idiot! You KNOW BETTER!

[oh no, no more bottles. she lobs the basket with a furious huff, and by now her face is all red and wet with tantrum tears.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

Wh-Whoa! Ngh! Hey! Watch it! What'd I d—

[Darin successfully manages to dodge and weave most of the bottles, though one or two manage to donk impotently off of his head.]

[However, as he dances and dodges around, he plants his foot squarely on one of those nearly full bottles of conditioner, causing the cap to burst off from the pressure.]

[Which, of course, sprays and empties the contents in a full force stream right in Cece's direction with a horribly vulgar PHHHTTTTTBBBBBBBBBBBBBB sound.]

[Also, the sudden explosion of soap makes his footing all the more tenuous. His foot flies out from underneath him and he falls backwards with a crash.]

[adamantlyardent]

[tantrum momentarily halted!

even post-crash, Cecelia stands frozen in horror, covered in fancy conditioner chin-to-toe.

after a little hiccup-sniffle, she slowly reanimates, gingerly untying her robe sash and wiggling out of it, trying to avoid getting any more goop on her cute slippers -- which she also slips out of to wind up barefoot in her nightgown.

equally gingerly, she pads over to where Darin lay groaning and just...dumps the ruined robe on his face before marching past him and out to the back yard.]

1/?

[forgeabettertomorrow]

Augh! Man it's all cold and—

2/?

[forgeabettertomorrow]

3/?

[forgeabettertomorrow]

[Sounds of sandwich munching]

4/?

[forgeabettertomorrow]

...Huh. This organic stuff ain't half bad on a turkey on rye...

DONE

[forgeabettertomorrow]

...Wait a sec—Cece!!

[And he's up, carefully navigating the mess on the floor to follow her out to the backyard.]

What are you doing? You'll get a cold!

[adamantlyardent]

[on the lawn, she's scuffing her heel into the dirt, clearing some weeds out of her way.

with her back to him, hands on her hips:] No, I won't. I'm immune to poison and disease.

Did you bring that robe, by chance? [holding out her hand expectantly.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

...That's handy.

[He stalls for a second, then runs back to get the robe off the floor.]

[He brings it out and holds it out for her to slip on.]

[But then stops and shakes sandwich crumbs out of it before holding it out again.]

...You okay?

[adamantlyardent]

[lightly:] No, no I'm not. I'm not okay.

[she snatches the robe when she feels it tickle her fingers. instead of putting it on, she just holds it out over the little dirt spot she's kicked clear and remains stiff and still as it ignites into flames to make its gradual puddle of ash and burnt clumps.]

I'll do something about it, probably. Maybe the right thing to do this time around.

[forgeabettertomorrow]

Whoa what was that for! It could have been washed!

Why are you so angry?? Did I wake you up or something??

...Wait, you don't sleep.

[...Bites his tongue about how he thinks that's why she's so cranky.]

[adamantlyardent]

[she sighs, rolling her shoulder while keeping her arm out straight, glaring skyward.]

No, I don't sleep. And yes, it could've been washed. But using it again means remembering the stupidity of this moment. I cling enough to my embarrassments as it is, you know?

Maybe I won't be so hurt by your stupidity that way.

[forgeabettertomorrow]

...Alright, look, is this about me falling out of contact?

Because there's actually a reason for that, you know.

[adamantlyardent]

I'm sure.

Just like there's a reason that instead of...I don't know, knocking and announcing your return...or literally anything else than just stand there and be so utterly out of touch in general as to--!

[she cuts herself off as her temper flares, bristled and frozen in place.

she exhales again, uncurling her fingers and letting the burnt remains drop into the dirt, her hand falling to her side.]

...Never mind. Recent events have my expectations...skewed. So forget it.

[forgeabettertomorrow]

"Recent events?"

What recent events?

[adamantlyardent]

Well... [she clicks her tongue, looking down while she scrapes some dirt over the ashes.] I spent a week or so tied up in some loser's basement while he and his friends worked very hard to convince me they were nice people before being dragged out to some obnoxious gathering with the expectation that I'd have some precious, elf secret to reveal...

[she turns around, looking past him with a grim expression.]

Somewhere along the way, I came to terms with the notion that nobody would've even noticed I was gone, and that hoping anyone would find me was childish. Harder to do than I thought, really.

[forgeabettertomorrow]

You were WHAT?!

[adamantlyardent]

[she shrugs, walking past him back into the house.]

My fault for not just setting them on fire at the onset.