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[onehundredbeers]

[It's been a bit since we've seen Nathan on the plane, hasn't it? Well, here's our very own Dethklok front man, drinking on his couch. Just he doesn't seem to be in that great of a mood. He doesn't seem pissed off, more... reserved and almost like an upset little boy.]

Fucking Charles.

[He mutters and drinks his beer, staring forward.]

Not our fault.

[He finishes his booze, and throws the bottle at the floor, where it smashes.]

Comments

[ofdensen.livejournal.com]

[If it's been that long for Nathan, it's been even longer for Charles. He's been... very busy, you see.

Charles manifests on the plane just in time for the dregs of the beer to fleck his shoes as it shatters at his feet.]

What's—not your fault, Nathan?

[He knows it's probably a bad idea to even try to approach this now, but... well. Call it making up for lost time.]

[onehundredbeers]

Nothing. Don't worry about it.

[He proceeds to remain surly. This is the Wall of Surliness. Built probably ten minutes ago for some reason or another.]

[ofdensen.livejournal.com]

[The temptation to say WELL OKAY THEN and leave is so large, Nathan. So large. Don't forget that he's got good reason to be displeased with you guys too. But for right now he's mostly just tired. He hasn't slept in... well, a long time.

Who knows where the boys ran off to in the real world, but he'd had a feeling that this might be the first place Nathan and Toki might go.]

...You sure?

[onehundredbeers]

[Nathan crosses his arms. He tilts his head back a bit and looks up. He frowns.]

Yep.

[It is clearly obvious he is not at all 'sure'.]

Totally fine. So, you know, no point in sticking around or anything. I bet you have, I dunno, something better to do.

[ofdensen.livejournal.com]

[It's taking all his effort not to facepalm. He is too fucking exhausted for this, man. This is the part where a normal, well-adjusted person talking to another normal, well-adjusted person would sit down next to him, maybe lay a hand on his shoulder, something like that.

This is not the reality of, you know, them. So mostly Charles just stands there. Hopes the beer on his shoes might go away when he's back to reality.]

Sure you're not, uh... upset over what happened before—?

[onehundredbeers]

[Indeed, if this were a meeting of well-adjusted individuals, Nathan might talk about what's up instead of employing a case of finely honed passive aggressiveness. Of course, it isn't the case, and it's basically a Mexican standoff between Stoicism and Passive Aggression.]

Why the fuck would I be? There's totally nothing to be upset about. I'm totally cool with how you blew us off, and, you know, every- everything else. Yep.

[ofdensen.livejournal.com]

Nat—

[Sigh. Nope, not doing this just yet. Priorities, Charles.]

Well, I, uh. Thought you might like to know that I think I have a plan for getting us out of this. We play our cards right, this might not be a total disaster.

[onehundredbeers]

[He glances over at Charles.]

Of course you do.

[Nathan sniffs with a bit of disdain, uncrossing his arms as he does so. He could use another beer.]

So, uh, are we included in the plan, or are you just gonna make it go away with a bunch of paperwork and phone calls or something?

[collector]

[Space Charles is always willing to hang out with you, Nathan.] Ah, if only we had an Astral Janitor to go with our Astral Hissyfits. Is something the matter, Nathan?

[ofdensen.livejournal.com]

Well, of course it does, Nathan, this isn't something that can just be cleaned up by a simple phone call. Believe me. I tried.

What the world needs now is you. The world needs Dethklok.

[onehundredbeers]

[He grumbles something, and does a full body huff in response.]

[ofdensen.livejournal.com]

[For crying out...]

I need you.

[A beat.]



All of you.

[onehundredbeers]

[That manages to break through his adamant surliness and passive aggression. At least, to some degree. His expression softens somewhat in response to those words.]

You're not just saying that to get me to work, right?

[It is Charles. He might pull it, you never know with that guy. He's a robot, he doesn't understand emotions or things. Maybe he understands emotional manipulation, but that's it.]

[onehundredbeers]

[Nathan frowns at Irving. He is not really in the mood for any Charles, space or not. But he grumbles his words in some vague attempt at being social, since he knows Irving isn't at fault here.]

No. I'm fine, don't- don't worry about it, alright? Just some fucking shit at home, you know?

[collector]

I saw the Dethklok Minute. [He lingers on the last word, gives Nathan a quizzical look. It is his way of asking if Nathan is okay.]

my htmls. :|

[ofdensen.livejournal.com]

[He's immediately just the smallest shade self-conscious, but does a good job not showing it. His hands shift a little in his pockets. Nathan really has no idea of the lengths he'd go to for them. Has already gone. None of them do.]

No... Nathan, I'm not. All of this started with Dethklok. And that's how it's gotta end.

[It's unclear how much he actually means.]

[onehundredbeers]

[Such is the relative ignorance in bliss. Though of the lot, Nathan is the least ignorant. He knows Charles died in their defense once already. Which, with that memory rising up in his head, he feels a twinge of guilt over his behavior. He was devastated when Charles died. He blamed himself in private for nine months because he didn't get there sooner.

Nathan turns his head to the side again; not out of sullen anger, though. More out of a tiny bit of shameful acknowledgement.]

I'll, uh, I'll... talk with the rest of the guys. About it. Maybe.

[He may be the leader, but he feels this is a case where he should have a meeting with the rest of his retarded family to make a decision. Or maybe he won't mention it at all to avoid the 'YOU'VE BEEN TALKING TO CHARLES ABOUT THINGS WITHOUT US?' argument that would likely break out.]

[ofdensen.livejournal.com]

Where, um. Are you. By the way.

In the real world.

...I've been looking around for a while.

[onehundredbeers]

[He scuffs spacefloor with his boot. All in all, the image of a child finally kind of deferring to his parent.]

We're about to sneak onto a boat. I kinda, uh, left to come here. Before getting on the boat.

[ofdensen.livejournal.com]

Any chance you could, uh, not get on the boat? Come home instead?

[onehundredbeers]

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. No. Pretty sure we all agreed to get on the boat. If I say 'oh no hey guys my plan to run away was dumb, let's go home', they'll accuse me of acting like you. Backing out on something I said we were totally going to do.

[Nathan gets in at least one more shot about the neglect while he can.]

[holmes-fanatic.livejournal.com]

[This is clearly someone who doesn't want company. In any other circumstances, Conan would keep a wide berth -- but those circumstances don't cover the Plane.

He's already noticing trends. It seems that most of the people coming to the plane have been rattled for some reason or other -- one of the experiments he's heard about? Only one way to find out.]

Ah -- mister? Is everything okay?

[ofdensen.livejournal.com]

[ouch. well, he kind of deserved that.]

I know. I haven't... been around much lately. [the S-word is right on the tip of his tongue, but he figures he might as well save it for when they're all together.] But I promise I'll make it up to you once we've done what we have to. Let's just, uh, pull the world back from the brink of Armageddon first.

[onehundredbeers]

[He stares at the young boy for a few moments.]

Oh, uh. Hey. Yeah, it's cool. I kinda forgot people'd come up and go 'something wrong'. I haven't really... stood around. For a while. Up here. [A beat.] Or sat, I guess.

[onehundredbeers]

[He sniffs.]

Then why the fuck did you ask?