you see me now, a veteran, of a thousand psychic wars [Open]

[thelatechrisfreeman]

Who: Chris Freeman & Anyone... perhaps even... YOU?
What: Did I hear you say that this is victory?
When: February and maybe March
Where: around town...
Warning: watch the comment titles

Thread starters in comments this time around. If you have an idea for Chris, feel free to top-level comment this entry with a wildcard :)

2/8: Reposted opener regarding Calloway's Curios for theresalwaystheview

2/12: Chris has a little breakdown, and Erik overhears lordoftheozarks

2/18: New prompt, open to all, regarding Chris being sick around the time of Merrymeet.

Comments

[cacophonish]

Jeff looks at his roll, then glances down at the butter dish. Is he going to turn down butter?

Fuck no, never. Even Jeff has enough sense to know that butter and hot bread, fresh from the oven, is a divine pairing, one that must be savored at any and every opportunity. He helps himself to a nice little spreading of it and takes a bite--

"Man--" Don't talk with your mouth full, Jeff! He swallows. "It's like-- Fucking classic." He grins at Chris. "You're really good at this. You could do it professionally!"

Look, Jeff's not blowing smoke up their ass. He just thinks baking from scratch is really dauntingly difficult and it's fucking impressive! Though, at the offer of teaching, Jeff...

Well, he doesn't shrink or shy away, really. He tries to keep his usual combo of laid-back-but-anxious-but-also-floaty-and-ditzy-and-sometimes-childishly-excitable going undisturbed, but there's a stirring of some insecurity just below the surface.

"I wouldn't mind watching, but I, uh, I don't know if I'd be any, um, good at learning, I mean, you should see how fucked up the candy can get when I work on it." But it's fine, it's no big, it's cool, he's cool. He's fine sucking at everything that isn't performing magic or strumming a guitar.

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"You can watch if you'd rather," Chris says easily. "But it's pretty simple, and I think you could learn if you wanted to. It's not nearly as complex as candy, that's for sure!"

Chris smiles warmly at Jeff. They recognize the insecurity, but also the defense mechanism to hide it, so they aren't going to call attention to it overtly.

"I thought you were all about music, though... I would assume you'd take a job as an entertainer, not a candy-maker." (Consider that an opening to tell Chris how Jeff got into that position!)

[cacophonish]

"Yeah?" Watching, without the pressure (and what he figures to be inevitable frustration and disappointment) of learning anything that isn't already in his wheelhouse, has Jeff perking right up again. And, who knows, maybe he can learn by osmosis... "Right on, I'd love to watch!"

Though, ah, his job. Now that's a... potentially awkward subject. Jeff looks a little embarrassed, a hand rubbing the side of his neck in a self conscious, fidgety gesture.

"I am-- I mean, I want to, but. I just gotta get my hands on a guitar, so I've been trying to save money first, and, uh. I mean." He tilts his head up, looking at the comforting indifference of the ceiling. "I was... a big fucking mess when I got here." Unlike now, where Jeff is clearly cool and responsible and together! "So I was kind of... shoplifting a little... at the holiday market, and this fuckoff big bird cop caught me..." Jeff winces. "So it's kind of... Community service?"

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"Oh, Jeff..." Chris shakes their head -- remembering how the two of them met because Jeff stole Chris's drink, and how they'd hoped it was a one-off desperation move. "I can't imagine Cerrit was very happy to catch you doing that."

Chris gathers up the ingredients for bread -- yeast, sugar, flour, a neutral vegetable oil -- and wipes down a section of the kitchen counter. They also start heating some water in a small saucepan on the stove.

"But I suppose, as long as you have a job... you'll be able to save up for that guitar."

[cacophonish]

"No..." At least, to his credit, Jeff seems to feel some shame over the matter. It definitely wasn't his proudest moment, learning (at the age of, uh, 21) that shoplifting is not a victimless crime.

Especially when he's shoplifting from struggling artisans in a cursed, blighted town and not from, like, Circle K.

"I guess he let me off easy, um, all things considered. I definitely learned my lesson that day." Honest! His fingers have been thoroughly un-stickied! (Well. Except for the stickiness that may come from working with sugar. Occupational hazard.)

He watches as Chris preps things for the dough, occasionally starting to move his hands like, maybe he can help them with something, but he doesn't know what he'd be able to help with, so he stops himself. He does, however, perk up considerably when Chris mentions the possibility for a guitar.

"Yeah! Magne-- do you know Magne? Works at the Oak and Iron, showed up around the time I did-- She's so fucking cool. Anyway, um, she offered to help me buy one, if I manage to raise half the cost, so." He grins, looking pretty proud of himself. "I'm almost there. Then I can really show you some bard magic."

He fidgets a little.

"Need any help?"

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"Magne weaponized me against Krampus but it didn't work the way she was expecting," Chris replies. "I'm glad you're making friends, Jeff. It... helps."

Chris was alone in the sense of having no friends in their home world -- their best friend was their older brother, and Rick had his own life. They glance over their shoulder at Jeff, give him a smile at the mention of bard magic... they remember how important that is to him.

After a moment of thought, when he asks if he can help, Chris offers, "You can grease the loaf pans? Wash your hands, and it's just a thin layer of vegetable shortening on the inner bottom and sides. And another hand-wash to get the grease off of you, of course."

[cacophonish]

"Whoa, shit..." He looks a mix of wide-eyed and awed at the casual revelation. "Badass." A beat. "Or... maybe not, um-- wait, what happened? You were okay, right?"

Like, he's assuming Chris was okay, since they don't seem traumatized by the Krampus fight or anything, but then again, living in a place like this, where weird and sometimes deadly shit happens on a pretty regular basis? It can probably make one, like, totally chill about death and dismemberment. Especially given their powers, and those powers' proximity to all things dead.

"Got it. I can do that!" And honestly it's probably for the best that they reminded him to wash his hands both times because... yeah, Jeff definitely would've forgotten that basic rule of cooking. As he gets his hands nice and clean, he flashes a smile at Chris.

"And... yeah, I'm glad, too," he admits. "About making friends, I mean. I kind of..." He shrugs, playing at nonchalance, as he towels them dry. "I dunno, I figured I wasn't gonna make any friends, when I got here." Mostly because he'd just finished alienating his own back home. "Which is why I didn't care about, like, stealing, I guess. But, um. You really helped me be a little less of an asshole. You and Magne."

Ugh, feelings are hard.

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"Eh," Chris shrugs. "I forget how it goes, but she can either magnetically push or pull a target when she touches someone. For a man it goes one way, for a woman it goes the other... and I'm neither. So we broke a lamp post instead. It doesn't hurt the person she touches, though."

Chris turns the bowl of bread dough onto a floured surface of the counter, carefully turning it over to get the flour covering the sticky dough.

When Jeff admits he wasn't expecting to make any friends, and he'd been acting like an asshole as a self-defensive measure, Chris looks sad and sympathetic. They take a moment to consider this, as they knead the bread dough.

"...I like being your friend, Jeff. If you let people see you, and not the asshole persona, I think they'd like you, too."

[cacophonish]

Now isn't that the rub? That's how the saying goes, right? (What does it even fucking mean?)

Being known, being seen, it's what he lives for, in a way. It's what everyone back home knows for a fact. Jeff Calhoun craves notoriety. He wants all eyes on him, he wants to be loved. He was always so free and open and charming, and it threw everyone for a loop when, gradually, he stopped being so free and open and charming. Over a year, he walled himself off, brick by brick, and became a faded stranger.

Except that version of him, all that charismatic fucking sunshine, had been just another way to keep people from ever truly knowing him, anyway. Is there even anything to know, really? Does he possess any substance at all?

Fuck. What's wrong with him? Why does even encouragement send him on some mental fucking tailspin?

Jeff's staring at the loaf pan for too long. He moves, suddenly, like a toy that's just been wound back to life, to try and spread an even amount of grease in the pan.

"I like being your friend, too." Should he admit how fucking scary it is, the thought of letting anyone know him for real? Can he even admit it? He offers a teasing grin instead. "And not just because I get free bread out of it."

[thelatechrisfreeman]

Chris watches as Jeff lapses into silence and stillness, and wonders what they said to set that off.

Chris smiles in response to that grin, and says lightly, "Lots of people get free bread out of me. Feeding other people helps me remember to feed myself. I need those kind of workarounds."

Knead, knead, turn -- knead, knead, turn...

Quietly: "When you first get everything mixed up for the bread dough, it's all sticky. And the loaf won't rise well without work... it needs the right environment and extra attention. A yeast bread is different from a quick bread."

So maybe Jeff is more of a 'yeast bread' who has been comparing himself to 'quick breads'. Or maybe Chris is just full of crap, who knows?