sadfreezingbrit_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sadfreezingbrit_archive) wrote2011-07-23 08:37 pm
sadfreezingbrit_archive) wrote2011-07-23 08:37 pm
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. ]
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.
...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. ]
no subject
no subject
no subject
Especially the bell peppers, Dean.What, is my consumption of them not enough?I'm not going to offer to blow you in thanks or something. [Nom nom. See? More eating.]
1/3
...Well.
Thanks to that other comment he is now choking on his food.
The narration hopes you are happy, Santana.
He just wanted to make sure you liked your breakfast.
But now you probably killed him.
Good job.
Nice work.
Really. ]
2/3
He is coughing now.
Well.
That's marginally better.
Give him just a moment.
To compose himself.
Aaaaand.... ]
3/3
Philip will quickly mumble that- ]
I was just asking...
[ -before moving on to sip coffee. ]
no subject
And this is why I still talk to you.
no subject
Right.
[ He stands up and puts the dishes away to wherever it is Wonderland cleaning works its magic. ]
Anyway. See you around I suppose.
no subject
no subject
About who?
[ when spoken out loud. ]
no subject
Is there someone around here worth gossiping about? I mean, you seem a little interested now.
no subject
no subject
no subject
All right. Then I'll leave you to that and you can tell me how it went next time.
[ Surprisingly the amount of increasingly sharp pain in his head and shoulder is not directly proportional to the amount of patience he can spare for people. ]
no subject