sadfreezingbrit_archive | one attempt at one-eyed brunch [21/??? artefacts collected]

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one attempt at one-eyed brunch [21/??? artefacts collected]

[ It's been almost a week since ex-mafia!Philip had a very unfortunate event run-in with still-mafia!Dean. The result? His previous Wonderland lives are still intact, but he's down one eye and his arm isn't doing so well either. And that's the understatement of the day.

So. It's been almost a week. Hardly enough time to heal all wounds (or any of them for that matter), but time enough for Philip to get over the worst and out of his room. Or try to, in any case.

Right now (now being 11 in the morning) he's standing in the kitchen, arduously slaving over his attempt at late breakfast. The injury to his right shoulder is difficult to hide, what with his arm in a sling. But at least his left eye (or lack thereof) is cleverly concealed behind a pair of sunglasses.

To reiterate: Kitchen. Breakfast. 11 o'clock. Right arm in sling. ~~Ridiculous~~ Fashionable sunglasses. Shattered glass.

...Shattered glass? ]

Jesus, not again.

[ Stepping aside Philip looks at the mess. After six days improvements are coming along at last, but missteps (or misgrabs, as it were) still happen all too often. Oh depth perception, he never knew how much he loved you until you were gone.

And yet the milk keeps dripping on the floor; cold, cruel and undeterred by his struggles and frustrations.

To continue: Paper towels. Broom. Scoop. New try. Deep sigh. ]

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[Dean stares at the cup in a mixture of revulsion and horror. Also disgust. Accompanied by a little cringe at the thought of those poor, poor eggs being subjected to bell peppers.]

Get those crimes against humanity out of my face and out of my eggs.

[ Philip takes a deep breath and slowly withdraws the cup. ]

You- you're right, I'm... I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking, let me just--

[ Cue deliberate cup flip. Bell peppers, meet frying pan! ]

Oh no. What a terrible mistake. My hand slipped. Accidentally.

[ Happily stirring peppers, lalala~ ]

[OH HELL NO.

Dean twitches, and for a moment he is this close to doing one of those "Bro you're pushing your luck" whacks on the back of Philip's head.

He refrains, but the smell of sautéing peppers is just...too damn nasty.]

I'm not eating that.

Don't worry, you'll get your own pan.

[ Which Philip swifty produces from the cupboard and places on a hot plate far away from those evil bell peppers. ]

...You do use a pan and butter, right? Or would that compromise the eggy flavour? Because if you'd rather just lick raw yolk off a plate...

[Dean gives him a flat look and fetches a bag of grated cheese from the fridge. It joins Philip's butter on the counter, and Dean gives him a very serious look full of very serious implications.]

Eggs are serious business. Now should I make some damn bacon, or would you rather eat beans on toast?

I understood bacon, but I have no idea what you want me to do with this.

[ If his eyes weren't obscured by the sunglasses Dean would be privy to a beautifully condescending look directed at the grated cheese. Fortunately his tone should convey most of the sentiment.

Up next are chopped onions for his pan and the one-handed cracking of several eggs. ]

How many for you?

Cheese-scrambled eggs, Jesus. Don't you guys eat anything good over on that island of yours?

[While the tone is affronted, the grin says that he's anything but. They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Discounting Clarence's methods of cardiac surgery, of course.

Dean pulls some bacon out of a convenient magical pantry and moves to a stove with actual flames, thank you very much. It cooks meat better, okay?]

I want, uh- [He thinks. How long has it been since he last ate? Couple days.] ...four.

Scrambled eggs without cheese, for instance.

[ Four eggs for Dean, another bowl with two for Philip. The less said about his limited faith regarding how long he will actually be able to keep that food down the better. ]

You probably won't even taste that and it'll only mess up the texture, but suit yourself.

[ He puts one whisk into each bowl and slides one over to Dean before setting to work. ]

Cheese makes everything better.

[Dean says matter-of-factly, whisking his eggs like a ~~pro~~ boss and putting a little butter in his pan. It starts melting slowly. For a bit, it's quiet. It feels sort of normal. Then-]

So, uh...

[The bacon sizzles as he sets several pieces in the other pan, and Dean attempts to work around anything pertaining to the Dick Tracy event.]

...anything exciting happen recently?

[Besides you-know-what.]

[ Besides lying in bed all week, feeling miserable and stuffed like a painkiller pinata? Nope.

...Philip might have to paraphrase that a little. ]

Not... not really, no.

[ Add salt and a few herbs and the eggs wander into the frying pan.

As he watches them Philip tries to think back to before the event to anything that might count as exciting or at least make for a little conversation, but recalling information in his current state of mind is not exactly-- Ohh!

Hey, um... did you-- Did you ever hunt, um... a mummy? I mean, do- do they exist?

[The bacon is almost done, and smells so damn good that he's tempted to grab a piece right out of the damn pan. Why had he thought that not eating was a good idea? Not eating is never a good idea.

Pouring his own eggs into a pan and stirring them up, occasionally adding cheese, Dean waits for Philip to scrounge up a better reply and practically snorts when he hears it.]

A mummy? What, like...like a Boris Karloff mummy?

[Dean shakes his head. Adds more cheese.]

Zombies exist, but mummies don't. Only reason zombies can be animated at all is 'cause of the flesh. A mummy's all skin and bones, right? Sucker would turn to dust before it could get its hands around your neck.

[Psssshhhhh, duh.]

Why d'you ask? Didn't see one around, didja?

I... I guess, something like that.

[ Exactly like that, actually. But alas, it's been too long since Philip's last Mummy screening for him to be jumped by the parallels.

As such Dean's words are fairly reassuring. ]

No. [ Huff. ] I didn't. But-- Never mind.

[ Time to stir those eggs with great concentration.

...

...

... ]

...It's just I met an [ sort of but unfortunately not really ] Egyptiologist here who was on this expedition to er, to find the City of the Dead.

We talked about a few things and- and she mentioned this priest and how some people might want to make sure he wasn't brought back from the dead and...

I guess I was just wondering if it's possible, that's all.

Edited 2011-07-25 00:06 (UTC)

[From a logical standpoint, mummies could definitely be real if they were zombies and weren't 90% shrink-wrapped and petrified.]

Well...curses exist, sure, so if some crazy Egyptian sonuvabitch made a deal with a demon, then I guess it could happen.

[But this is not the important part of the conversation. The important part of the conversation is that Philip met a girl. Dean is fairly certain that he knows who most of the chicks are in the mansion, and an Egyptowhatsit isn't on his list of feminine Wonderland residents.

This is important enough that Dean finishes cooking his eggs and the bacon, serves himself a hearty plate with both foodstuffs, and turns off the stove.]

Now, be honest with me, dude.

Edited 2011-07-25 00:32 (UTC)

[He sits at the counter island and points a fork at Philip.]

Is she cute?

[ Philip listens while putting the finishing touches on his breakfast. For him tombs have come to spell disaster in bold and blinking letters. As such he would have liked an indication that Evelyn wasn't about to take a trip doomwards, but all he got was a movie recommendation. Well. Beats not getting anything at all. And he really should see that movie again sometime... ]

Mh. Right.

[ The egg transition from pan to plate takes a little longer than he'd like, but eventually he joins Dean at the table, fork in hand and-- And pausing to prepare for what sounds like a serious and very important question. ]

[ ...Except that it isn't and he really should have seen this coming. ]

Why? You aren't thinking of branching out, are you?

That's hilarious, Romeo. In case it escaped your notice, I'm actually in a committed relationship.

[Not that it isn't hard, and that he's not occasionally tempted, but he's trying. It's difficult to break something that's practically hard-wired into his system.

Regardless, the question has absolutely nothing to do with Dean.]

But this isn't about me. This is about you. And Egypt lady. So answer the question.

[Remember what happened the last time you refused to answer the question, Philip? You were almost dubbed Sir Limey Fruitcake.

Don't make that mistake again.]

[ Philip received the notice, thank you very much. Hence the carefully chosen "branching out" rather than a plain "make a move on". Sadly neither seems to help much in ending that line of questioning, not when Dean's look says that he's not just letting go of that one.

No longer holding his breath to prepare for an Important Question^TM Philip first makes a point of sampling his scrambled eggs in all their bell peppered deliciousness. ]

Her name's Evelyn, er... Carnahan.

[ Just dropping that piece of information so Dean doesn't do around calling her Egypt lady. Which he probably will anyway, but at least now Philip can say that he tried. ]

She's...

[ Chewing... chewing... chewing... ]

...nice. She works in Cairo, translating and... cataloguing. Really-

[ Sip of coffee. ]

-interesting to talk to.

[Helping himself to his own breakfast, Dean watches Philip curiously.

He isn't promoting his new friend very well. Either he's worried that Dean is going to make a move on her - yeah, right, Cas would kill him - or the subject is just awkward.

Since when did Dean care about awkward?]

Wow, Phil, you could sell ice to an Eskimo. Nice? I ask you a critical question and all you give me is nice? What are you, scared of cooties?

[Seriously dude, ninety percent of the chicks here are eighteen and under, this is important.]

[ All of the following isn't so much said as rattled off at conspicuously accelerated speed. ]

So what, you need to know if she's attractive? She's attractive. Are you happy now or do you want a rating from one to ten?

[ The subject isn't awkward. He isn't worried that Dean is going to make a move on her. So why did the question make him feel uncomfortable?

More chewing. Philip would really like an answer to that himself. ]

[Dean loves it when Philip loses his cool. It's hilarious because it doesn't happen very often.]

Whoa, slow down, tiger - no need to get your panties in a wad. S'just an innocent question.

[A question dripping with innocence. Smothered in it, even. You can tell because of the harmless, well-meaning smile. That, my good man, is the face of an angel.]

[ As is this, but that doesn't mean there is anything harmless or well-meaning about it. ]

I'm sure it was.

[ Philip's gentle STAB into the scrambled eggs hits a piece of bell pepper. He points the fork at Dean's plate. ]

If you're bored with that yet you can try some of mine.

[~~Luci~~ Philip, you got some 'splaining to dooooo.]

I think I'll stick with my pepper-free cheesy eggs, thanks.

[The eggs he has almost finished inhaling, as a matter of fact. Dean pushes the plate of bacon he cooked across the counter and grins wider. His mood is almost always improved by Philip's impeccable bitching, and having new people in the mansion is kind of nice.

Unless they're crazy scientists bent on world-domination, but hey. You can't have everything.]

So Egypt lady talked about mummies?

[Dean is pretty sure that the only thing he knows about Egypt is that the King Tut dude had a whole lot of gold and all the important people involved in the dig died mysteriously.]

I didn't know those were still big. Egypt ain't exactly a safe place, the last time I checked. She's not from now, is she?

[He's gotten used to asking about time periods. There's just no telling anymore.]

1926. [ A beat. ]

And it wasn't mummies per se, just a- [ Let him see if he remembers that correctly. ] a legend about a high priest and a book that supposedly has the ability to raise the dead, the sort of thing that--

[ His fork taps the plate, expression just a little darker. ]

Just the sort of thing you see in films, the can't possibly be true kind, except that it always is.

Edited 2011-07-26 18:21 (UTC)

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