chosehumanity | 71 Serendipity, Thursday Late Afternoon

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71 Serendipity, Thursday Late Afternoon

Mitchell got in from Baltimore sometime just past noon. He hadn't listened to the radio for a while; now he had oceans of time, and he was planning to use them to catch up. After all, you did get tired of having a sixteen-year-old accuse you of being unaware what was going on all the time.

The first thing he did when he finished was leave a voicemail. The second thing he did was - post-squirrel-checking the room - launch a diatribe over the phone to George about stupid bloody vampires who didn't know how to clean up after themselves or work the system. (He'd contemplated calling Mina despite their rusty truce, but he didn't particularly feel like helping out on this whole mad hunt by waking up any potential sleeping dragons about anyone else)

The third thing he did was flop down on the couch with a beer, cross his arms, put on a film that wasn't at all thematic for his feelings about the whole thing at large, and brood.

If he'd had any inclination of letting Fandom at large know about himself, it was firmly gone by now.

[[ ever get a post stuck in your head during your trip home? post open to anyone who'd have a reason to show up or call ]]

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Mitchell shrugged. "Hey, we've shared a few beers," he said, padding up towards the kitchen. "What's the world come to if you can't trust your instincts about that anymore?"

Max laughed. "You've got a point. I mean, it'd be sort of embarrassing if you didn't know your drinking buddy was a vampire, right?"

"Exactly," he said, pulling open the fridge and taking out two beers. "Besides, God only knows there's worse things than you wandering around the island."

"Obviously." Max's eyes flashed unhappily as he took one of the beers. "Something attacked Raven, after all."

"Something that doesn't want to be found," Mitchell supplied, nodding his head towards the couch.

And the monster persecution movie on. Hush.

Max shook his head slightly as he followed Mitchell. "It's more than that. This whole thing has only drawn more attention to the situation. Something likes to play games."

"Well, at least now everyone knows they're around." A layman could be forgiven for thinking Mitchell was talking about vampires in general.

He sat down on the couch.

Rubbing his face, Max took a swig from his beer. "There's that, I suppose.

"Thanks again for the invite, by the way. It's really boring just sitting around the house all day brooding. I needed to get out."

Mitchell shrugged, holding up his beer for a toast. "That's what friends are for, right?"

He took a sip. "What are you planning to do?"

"Lay low for a bit more. Then, if it's still unresolved? Probably leave. At least for a while. I may not have done it, but the people who think I did... well, they're under enough pressure without having to worry about me jumping out and attacking them in the night."

Mitchell sank back in the couch. "It's not like you actually did it," he pointed out. "What, you haven't got a right to live here, now?"

Max shrugged and drank some more beer. "Sure I do. But I don't really want to worry my studnets. I guess I just figure it's not worth sticking around if it's only going to cause trouble, you know?"

"Yeah, I can really see you staying put anywhere with that attitude," Mitchell muttered, taking another chug of his beer.

Not that he'd come all this way for a reason or anything.

"Hey, it's not like I get accused of being a blood-sucking psychopath on a regular basis or anything."

"So you're just going to take them seriously and preventively remove yourself?" Mitchell said, skeptically.

"Thinking about it." Max shrugged again. "At least until all this blows over."

Because running away made you look oh-so-innocent.

"Yeah," Mitchell said, snorting, and took a sip of his beer. "Really MI6. Oh my god, are you a spy?"

Max blinked. How did--?

Oh. Mitchell was kidding. Of course.

"Oh, yeah," he forced a laugh. "Maximus. Antillar Maximus. Doesn't have quite the right ring to it..."

"It's a really stupid idea," Mitchell said, shooting him another look. "It's not your fault."

"Oh," Max sighed, "I know. But it turns out that life sucks sometimes, and fair's got very little to do with it."

He looked over and flashed a smile. "Still, it's nice to hear."

Mitchell shrugged again. "Like I said," he said, "I think I'd know."

For a fair couple more convincing reasons than 'you're my friend'. "You're allowed to fight for your right to stay here," he said, "It's not like the mobs are showing up at your doorstep yet."

"No," Max snorted. "But if this whole thing doesn't get resolves, then sticking around might just make things harder on everyone." He finished his beer in one long go. "I really like it here, but that's not worth worrying the kids about things that go bump in the night."

"There are always going to be things that go bump in the night," Mitchell said, draining half his bottle. "You can't protect them from it."

"Not all of it. But this one? Yeah. At least they won't have to be afraid of me."

Then Max snorted. "Of course, that's only if things don't get settled soon, and I rather suspect they will. I mean, it's not like they can just leave whoever it is wandering around out there, right?"

"That'd be fearing a figment of their own imagination, mate," Mitchell said, setting his bottle down. "Whoever's out there on their own, though. They can't be very organized, if they had to pin all of this on someone like you."

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