ledbythewind | APPOINTMENTS POST

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APPOINTMENTS POST

This post can be used to thread with or get in contact with Richard at any point when he doesn't have a post up! Just comment here (please use the format [Action, June 24th], [Voice, March 5th], etc. to make it clear when the thread is taking place and what type of thread it is) for a thread with him; if it's a continuation of another thread or post, please link that so I remember the context of the thread.

GO NUTS.

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[Richard uses this as an opportunity to duck into the bathroom and shed his own clothes, grabbing an oversized towel to wrap around himself for the time being. He's halfway out the door before he realizes it's probably a good idea to grab a couple of towels for Isamu too, so he turns around to do that before going back outside to wait for his friend.

... and maybe make a towel turban to help dry his hair in the process, NO LAUGHING.]

[Isamu won't laugh. ...He might snort and take a moment to compose himself, but he won't outright laugh.

When he notices Richard has extra towels, he holds out his hand for one. His hair could use it before he dampens up the collar of his newly acquired clean shirt.]

[Don't think that Richard doesn't see that snort, Isamu. Just for that, instead of handing him one of the extra towels, Richard will go a step further and wrap one around Isamu's head to match before the other man can protest it.

Anything to keep his mind off things, okay.]

[He gets a deadpan look for his trouble, though Isamu doesn't immediately shake off the towel.]

Oh, that's classy.

And effective. Now you won't drip on your dry clothes.

[He tucks one trailing end of the towel into the turban to secure it, then steps back to admire his work.]

...Thanks.

[He can't get too annoyed. Keeping the mood light-hearted is important.]

[They're doing a pretty good job of that... so far. Once they sit down and really let it sink in, all bets are off.]

I don't suppose you were kind enough to bring me some dry clothes as well?

...Oh right.

[He'd set them out on the bed, then forgotten about them.]

One sec.

[He walks back out of the bathroom, returning in a moment with them in hand, turban still in place.]

[This time it's Richard's turn to stifle a laugh as he takes the clothes and ducks back into the bathroom to put them on.

Once he gets the door shut behind him, though, that laugh almost turns into a sob; he manages to stop it for the most part, but a choked sound still escapes him before he's able to get himself under control.]

[Isamu catches that, just barely, but says nothing.

Richard's putting on a good face right now, and while it's not good for him to cover it up, it's at least better than him sitting out in the pouring rain right now. But only by a little.

He'll give the king whatever time he needs to get dressed.]

[He'll put his clothes on swiftly, and by the time he emerges from the bathroom, the smile will be back on his face, strained though it is.]

Now then, shall we see about that soup?

[Ridiculous towel turbans and all. It at least gives him a reason to smile, even if it's only a little.]

...Yeah.

[Isamu smiles back, and his is almost as strained.]

I'll see what I can throw on.

[Impulsively, Richard reaches out to give Isamu's shoulder a squeeze, just sort of stroking lightly with his thumb.

What a mess the two of them are right now, even if they're doing their best to hide it.]

[Isamu pats the hand in return.]

I hope it isn't all potato soup or something. That shit's so bland.

You don't like potato soup?

[BLASPHEMY. Potato and leek soup is delicious!]

It's not my first choice.

[He starts heading downstairs, surprised his stomach hasn't already started growling at the thought of food.]

You'll have to remind me to make you some potato and leek soup once I find a good recipe for it.

[Unfortunately, his first thought is that he should ask Sanji for one; it's such a natural thing that he isn't even aware of it until he's already had the thought, and by then the realization that Sanji is no longer here has already set in, and his chest constricts painfully once again.]

Blech.

...I guess I can stomach it if you're making it, though.

[To the kitchen! And straight for the cabinet. Let's see what we can dig out here...]

Is that how you show your appreciation for my cooking?

[Wow, rude.]

By saying that yours would probably be better than the potato soup I've had in the past?

Yeah, I thought that was fairly appreciative.

... you must never have had Sanji's.

[Nothing can top the chef's food. That's a fact.]

I didn't, actually.

[But that's a whole different level of cooking and let's not talk about it.

He digs around in the cabinet a bit, finally emerging with an "Aha!" and a couple cans of vegetable soup.]

This is like that heavy American shit, but it's pretty good.

[Richard leans over his shoulder to peer at the labels, but it's honestly all Greek to him. Food doesn't have ingredient lists or anything like that in his world.]

I'll take your word for that.

[Then, padding over to the table to take a seat, he pauses.]

Is American food really all that different from your own?

Countries all over the world, the world I came from at least, all have different styles of food. Before we could all connect with each other as easily, the sort of meals people could put together were all based on what sorts of things actually grew and lived in their area.

[He gets the cans open, looking for suitable bowls.]

So yeah. They're pretty different.

I'll have to look into finding an American cookbook at some point to see these differences for myself. But no guarantees that I'll be any good at cooking any of the recipes in it. My one attempt at French cooking was barely a step above disaster level.

[He takes a seat at the table; then, realizing he should be helpful, he goes to get the spoons and set them down on the table for whenever the soup is ready.]

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