dumbshow | once more with shitposting

once more with shitposting

[Reim is loath to think it's convenient that the city needs to be put back together after everything. There's been so much loss, they've all felt it—but having something to do after Pandora is dissolved keeps everyone's minds off those things, more or less, so. It's a little convenient. It keeps people busy, himself included.

Most people, anyway... Reim has more than enough to do, from ironing out the details of the relief efforts (it's-not-Pandora-but-it's-mostly-the-same-people is not a viable organization name, the struggle) to dealing with people on a much more individual level, including trying to integrate the remaining Baskervilles— he's never been more stressed in his life!!

Unlike some people apparently on a quest to ruin the only peace and quiet he has in his schedule - locking himself in his office to eat meals - in between everything else. It's just after he's been to check up on Duke Barma, who is surprisingly... robust, if bedridden, and he's escaped that harrowing exchange only to find his office invaded and some kind of food out. It smells like food. That's not the lunch he ordered??

He sighs. It must be every day of his life at once. He will address... the office:]

Xerxes, come out of there.

[he doesn't even know where, but he Knows it's somewhere.]

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[Xerxes is trying to apologize; on some level, Reim knows this. The harrowing duty of tending to Duke Barma while he sits in bed shouting about his wedding plans (embarrassing) is nothing compared to the actually harrowing task that had been convincing Xerxes Break that it wasn't a mistake that he survived. Or at least shouting it at him until he stopped arguing about it.

So he supposes that, logically, he is owed some kind of apology for some whiny old man's sulking, but there's just so much going on and both of them are alive enough to argue in the first place, so—he doesn't have to do this.

Really, really doesn't have to... what is this food... Reim gives it a wary look before he startles, as usual, and automatically reaches behind him to grab Xerxes and drag him into the room. Maybe shake him a little? How dare he!!]

Don't fool around! What is this!!

[Here he is, gracing him with his presence with this nice little gift, and yet Reim still shouts and shakes him. He expected this despite his efforts being mild (he could have went above and beyond in waiting under Reim's desk until he could grab him, but he didn't? that was so nice of him?) and just goes stands there, staring dead-eyed just past Reim's big dumb head.]

I made— [stop shaking him] —made— [please stop] —lunch.

[Shaking... shaking... He could go a lot harder with this shaking, but now he has to be delicate so that Xerxes doesn't, like, lose a limb or something, so this is mild. As shaking goes.

He stops when it connects that this mess in his office doesn't seem to be an elaborate prank. Come to think of it, if it was an elaborate prank, it wouldn't look so... crappy... He'd probably be halfway through eating when a doll head rolled out of a sandwich, or something.

So, uh. Well. He has stopped shaking.]

You made...? [......] How? You don't cook.

[Very appreciative, good one.]

[As much as he can just stay like this with Reim holding him, he doesn't need a reminder he's way stronger on top of the fact he's bigger. So he takes Reim's hands in his, pushing them back against his chest with a wistful, overdramatic sigh.]

I think you mean I didn't cook, because now I have. I put out all of this for you neatly and this is how you treat me... [It's not neat- the papers on Reim's desk are in a very bad stack and everything's probably out of order now. But like, he tried?] Maybe I am just not cut out to try and do all the things you tell me after all... I shouldn't bother.

Neatly... [You can't blame this on being blind... he knows!! But fine, he shuffles over to look at the questionable meal with a sigh of his own, much more exasperated. With this, he'll need to adjust his schedule to account for reordering everything and possibly a stomachache from this lunch...

Anyway: shut up. Automatically he goes from irritated to gentle lecturing; do not ruin this already weird lunch with negative nancy-ing.]

Don't complain. You... [uhhh, not "tried," really—] did this much, and that's something.

[...but look at it.....] You did burn it a little, though.

[he can't look at it..... you shut up]

Did I...? They felt less crisp than the first tries. [Aka: not the first attempt, still managed to mess up after, stopped bothering. At least he didn't bake the cookies himself. No, they're fresh out of... some box he just found in the kitchen. They're still in the little plastic wrapping they come with on the plate.

He drops into a chair like all this was very tiresome, hiking up the very much not his coat back over his shoulder. A clever cover up for the fact he's still in his pajamas.] If I can't complain, you can't either.

That's not how this works at all!!

[He'll complain as much as he wants?! This is his carefully scheduled lunch hour being invaded by old people and burned grilled cheese.

Still... "the first tries"... damn it, now he feels obligated. He sits down himself and shoves one burnt sandwich at Break, as aggressively as one can do this without actually throwing a sandwich into someone's face. Since apparently wine has been chosen as the most appropriate drink for this meal, he picks up the bottle to scrutinize it...]

Next time, ask someone to at least get a wine that pairs well. [with GRILLED CHEESE... don't worry he's still going to chug like 5 glasses of this.]

Well—thank you, anyway. You didn't have to...

[Xerxes likes to think he's keeping up think pout, but there's definitely a smile behind his pathetic excuse of grilled cheese. He doesn't take a bite yet, though, because he knows something will have to drown out the taste and he hasn't opened the bottle yet.]

Well, you weren't going to. I always thought that if Pandora dissolved, you'd finally give yourself a break... But you might be doing more than before! It's unbearable, you know. When are you going to come see me without thinking of the rest of your day?

[He should pop this cork in your smug face, old man. He won't, but he thinks about it while he opens the bottle completely calmly.]

Why should I bother when you come here on your own anyway?

[That's harsh, he knows, he needs only his split-second of pettiness before he calms down again to pour some inappropriately selected wine. Whole weeks he spent with this guy after he didn't die, and now he's being accused of not making time...! Jeez!!]

Pandora being gone doesn't mean I have time to be carefree as often as I feel like... As a member, I contributed to what happened, so I have a responsibility to make it right.

[So there. Break should probably help too, but he's sick and blind so he's excused... Anyway, since he's actually being asked to chill for once, sort of-]

What is it that you want to do?

[He made that time because he had to!! Learn to make time for stuff that isn't stressful in some way, god. Xerxes hums thoughtfully, like he hasn't given this as much thought as he has.]

I want to drink, first. [Obviously... this is deflecting. He holds his hand out in Reim's direction for his glass.] Then maybe if you stop acting like I've made very scandalous suggestions, I'd like to take a walk after lunch. Are you capable of doing that without your head exploding?

[This burnt sandwich is stressful. Reim hums, passing him a glass. No way, he's not going to reward this attitude... yeah he is. Sigh.]

I suppose it's been a while since we could talk normally. [You know, since somebody had a multi-week breakdown.] Alright. The grounds aren't very busy in the afternoon, so there shouldn't be any interruptions...

[He's put everyone to work elsewhere. No leisure time!!]

[Considering that all the recent times they've had to talk is when someone had a near-death experience... Is it normal, or irregular? Truly, the fact they aren't in some kind of crisis is something to be marveled at. But instead of answering, he opts to biting into what he thinks is at least edible sandwich.

It was a mistake. He hasn't been eating anything but sweets lately either, so this is truly hell. He chokes, ducks his head to pretend like he hasn't, then hastily lifting the glass to wash it down.]

N-Not even the Duke could keep you from spending time with me, anyway~! [he's dying] I just thought I'd let you know so I don't have to kidnap you.

[Oh, wow.

Reim glances down at his own sandwich, hastily comparing the visible edible-levels of both of them. His looks less like charcoal, so maybe he can still eat most of it? Perhaps? He can't believe he's having cookies for lunch... cookies and wine.

That said: what a jealous man.]

I think he could try, but there's not much he can do from his bed. [Reim's two abuses of power now that he's basically in charge: making people actually work and making Rufus Barma stop bouncing off the walls. Amazing.] I'll go, you don't have to make a scene... please.

[He takes a bite of sandwich... and coughs, but he's managing to chew it enough to actually eat it. His eyes are watering? Break is missing this display?]

[Xerxes mumbles something about how Barma doesn't do much of anything anyway, but it's under his breath because he doesn't want Reim to throw more food at him. He's now trying to pry open his sandwich so he can just scrape off the cheese... he's civilized.]

You're making a face, aren't you? [he still Knows] That is insulting to all my hard work, Reim...

O-Of course not-! It's delicious.

[It's not. He sounds strained. He's trying to be nice, appreciate him. Stop scraping cheese, have some decorum!!

One day he'll solve the mystery of whether or not Break did this on purpose, making terrible sandwiches. He's blind, yes, but there's always a chance he secretly knew how to cook all along and is feeding Reim absolute garbage just to be a jerk.

Truly, this is why he yelled at this man until he stopped trying to go off and die. This right here. Reim coughs again and pretends he's not.]

So, how about these cookies...?

[No!! He's pulling this cheese off between two fingers and eating them alone now. Let him live.]

I asked one of the servants to get them just for you. [this is a lie] It was a long and perilous journey... [also a lie] I tried to ensure it was something you'd like. [this is the truth]

They have little fruits on them. [Instead of being overly frosted or anything, they're like. Actually not as unhealthy for you? Look at them.] You like such tasteless things, right?

[Barma servants don't listen to old men from other houses, don't lie... These cookies aren't terrible, but they're much less pure sugar than he'd expect. He has to stare at them while he plucks at the package or he will watch cheese picking and be turned off lunch forever.

fuss fuss]

Tasteless? I suppose I am friends with you. [ZING... he likes you, that's the take away here, because it was unclear after 15 years.] This- infernal packaging-!

[help him blind man]

[Thankfully the fact Reim is too much of a weakling to open this package is enough for him to stop eating like this. Doing this will make him feel better about his shitty meal. He sets his burnt bread down, and leans over the desk take this cookie package.]

You have to be friends with me to open things, since all you do is paper push! [Except... he's also having trouble with this? His expression goes from smug to annoyed the more he tugs on it. Tugging... tugging harder...] It's just-- like-- like this--

[It rips way too much when he gives it his all, spilling cookies and crumbs all over his desk. He freezes, still leaning over it, mouth hanging open.] ... Ahaaa...

[Ah. Reim can handle being made fun of for paper pushing, he's fine with that, but spilling shit all over his desk? Everywhere?

There is a long silence. The very air holds its breath. Then, with a sound somewhat like a balloon deflating, Reim sinks lower and lower in his chair. He's dead, he's dying now.]

Xerxes... [He has no vitality left to panic with, but rest assured, when he reaches up to shove Break's face back over to his goddamn side, the pettiness is there.] Find some way to clean this up, or so help me—!!

[He's scolding from down here in his misery slouch. Clean this up or he'll go tell Barma you smell.]

[There's solace in the fact Reim hasn't hit him over in the head, at least. The fact he's so defeated shouldn't make him laugh, but here he is, laughing his way over to the other side. Reim is miserable, but it's just like old times!! He'll get over it.]

So help you what...? [No, he's not that much of an asshole... Watch him get up and wander around feeling for a waste bin that he's not sure exists here.] You'll clean it yourself? How threatening.

No!! [The waste bin is definitely there, punk, he has at least three. Find it yourself!!]

If you don't, I'll— [Hang on, he'll sit up for this, before he shouts at the underside of his desk and complains about back pain for a day-] I'll be forced to turn you away for the afternoon if I'm picking up crumbs for hours!

[It wouldn't take hours, but. Principle.]

You would spend an entire afternoon on cleaning? That doesn't sound like you're very efficient...

[He's doing his best!! He literally runs into the waste bin, but he grabs it before that can spill too. Phew.]

Are you sure you can handle being so important? [this heir to Barma nonsense... he sighs, dragging his feet to drop it beside the desk and just start blindly sweeping these crumbs over the side. Some of them miss, but he's trying?]

[Don't run into his trash... And don't remind him of his very real and not at all bullshitted in three seconds Heir To Barma duties, he's going to break out in hives.]

Well, it's not as if I have my Pandora duties anymore... [Do you hear this squeaking? That's Reim nervously cleaning his glasses, now that he has to think about the mountain of stress that's sure to lead to his young death.]

Be careful with those crumbs. [half-hearted...... anyway, sighing,] I'll admit, it's a lot to take on myself...

[squeak... squeak.... if he had... some HELP................]

[No more Pandora duties, yet he's doing all this dumb charity work too... Break could point this out, but he doesn't. Instead he pauses, then places a delicate hand on Reim's shoulder.]

I'm told I would be very distracting presence for a young lady's coming of age duties, so it seems you might be stuck with me on top of it all~!

[this is... the asshole way of saying he's sticking around, hey]

[Let him do his charity work, it makes him feel better... But ah, thanks, sort of??]

Oh, that's true—I wonder if I should send a card soon, or some extra hands to help... [Reim: making it all about more work. He clears his throat, like, he's totally focused on not working for real.]

Well, someone has to keep you out of trouble! To no one's surprise, that task falls to me.

hey i don't deserve this treatment

hey he doesn't deserve this treatment

yeah i think he does

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