equal_shots | Mailbox

From:

[Luckily for Kid, the package he receives from Xanthous doesn't require any sort of reading! Hooray!

One day leading up to the season change, Kid will find a bundle wrapped in paper inside his mailbox. Inside there are a pair of mittens, a hat, and a pair of socks all knit out of soft wool yarn. It's cozy time, y'all.]

From:

equal_shots

[Thank you Xanthous! Since your package is unsigned, there will be a note for you on the bulletin board.]

From:

equal_shots

[Xanthous has made this so exceptionally difficult. Not only did he not put his name on his bulletin board post, but Kid can't see the text quirks to help him trace the note to something with his name.]

It is fortunate that you mentioned to Luce that you liked your bees and not bees in general. Bees make a noise I recognize, which is the only way I found your mailbox.

Thank you for the mittens, hat and socks. While it's true that I've lived in Norfinbury for a while and adjusted to the cold somewhat, truth be told I'm from the desert and am far more used to warm weather.

I don't have much, but I hope you enjoy this tea. It was provided in the house when I arrived, but there's nothing nicer than a warm drink when it's cold and I imagine you have honey from your bees.

Again, thank you!
-Kid

[The entire note is in Braille, and it's been secured to an unopened tin of tea. While the tea itself is nothing special, Kid was telling the truth when he said he didn't have much else to offer.]

Edited Date: 2017-12-07 04:03 am (UTC)

From:

telecosmetic

[While Eliza has been giving drawings to everyone, she knows that won't work for Kid. So instead, he gets a sheet of embossed copper foil with some heavier paper glued onto it as backing. The actual image shows Kid staring straight on at the viewer, and the background is made of several symmetrical geometric shapes. Eliza has also embossed her signature in it, but below the image she's done her best to write "MERRY CHRISTMAS" in Braille as well. The dots are probably somewhat uneven, but hopefully the actual words are still recognizable. There's another note as well, similarly done in handmade Braille.]

WOULD YOU COME TO THE CHRISTMAS PARTY WITH ME?

From:

exequies

[This letter is simple and to the point, written on an older style of heavy stationary with a fountain pen.]

Would you consider yourself to know Doctor Watson fairly well?

-Undertaker

From:

equal_shots

[Unsurprisingly, Kid's handwriting is meticulously neat. Likely written and rewritten.]

I know him well enough, between what I've seen him do around Norfinbury and here as well as our own conversations and interactions. Why do you ask?

-Kid

From:

exequies

Because I may need to ask a favor out of you. He's acting very unusual today and has moved his clinic to the hotel, along with the dog he and Sherlock have been keeping.

I'd like for you to check on him for me.

From:

equal_shots

Why do you think he's acting strange? I've no problem checking on him, but he may be no more inclined to talk with me than with anyone else. He still sees me as a child.

From:

exequies

Something happened between him and Sherlock.

And yes, that's what I was counting on, actually.

From:

equal_shots

Please elaborate on how you feel this will be advantageous to you.

From:

exequies

Is being concerned for his safety not reason enough? There's nothing particularly advantageous about it.

From:

equal_shots

That is not what I meant.

I was referring to your mention of him still seeing me as a child. I fail to see how this would be helpful in this situation...upset adults very rarely want to share their concerns with "children". More often than not, I have seen them pretend they are entirely all right, even when it's clearly not the case.

From:

exequies

Yes, you're correct. But I'm not asking you to do all of that unless you simply want to.

People are less likely to do something rash when there are children involved.

From:

equal_shots

[This prompts a reaction, more than the meticulously written notes the two have been passing back and forth. Thus, the teen appears at Undertaker's hobbit house shortly after receiving the note, a familiar (though perhaps more concerned than usual) frown on his face.

He doesn't give the man a chance to speak when he answers the door.]

You're that worried about him.

From:

exequies

[Undertaker taps the nails of one hand on his doorframe in a small, repetitive undulation that belies that he's thinking. His characteristic smile is muted as he glances from his door towards the hotel and newly moved clinic across the lane, then focuses his attention back on Kid.]

We should speak inside. [Which isn't denying the accusation at all.]

I'll make some tea.

From:

equal_shots

[Kid follows the elder reaper's gaze, brows furrowed.]

Yes. Inside may be better.

I don't need tea.

[Yet. He might, when he sees Undertaker's residence...]

From:

exequies

[It's bad.

He moves away from the door, leaving it open for Kid to follow him through. The inside of his house isn't well-lit, but what light there is is cast by dozens of candles and one gas lamp sitting on the desk at the far end of the room. Other than the desk, there's little furniture... aside from two coffins plopped haphazardly on the floor and shelves filled floor to ceiling with books, vials of chemicals and various funerary objects.

There's no rhyme or reason to any of it. Undertaker seems to live by the philosophy of 'if there's a space for it, it goes there before I promptly forget it exists'.

At least Monty had forced him to get rid of most of the cobwebs and dust that used to come with it.]

Suit yourself. No biscuits, either?

From:

equal_shots

[Well. Undertaker will be able to send over a thoroughly distressed Kid, if nothing else, and even those with only a cursory friendship with the doctor across the way know that's the best way to the man occupied. Other people's needs.

It's a quick and efficient way to prompt the teen into panic. His eyes don't know where to land, on the vials of unlabeled chemicals to his left or the teetering pile of books on his right. If Undertaker looks hard enough he might just spot the puff of smoke from Kid's ears.

He chooses the floor in am attempt to avoid becoming violently ill, nausea clawing up his throat. Like the girls tell him: stop thinking about it. I'm not thinking about it. I'm not thinking about it. Not thinking about it. Not thinking...]

No-- [His tone is noticeably strained, and he presses his hands to his face. Ah--now he really can't see it.] No biscuits.

How do you stand this...this abomination?

From:

exequies

[The reaction is a bit unexpected for Undertaker, this version of which had never witnessed one of Kid's peculiar episodes. He blinks from behind his bangs, head tilting to the side in confusion as he pauses in shutting the door.]

Hm?

[He can't even begin to guess what is being taken offense to. There're... plenty of potential triggers.]

Edited Date: 2018-04-11 01:49 am (UTC)

From:

equal_shots

This-- [He nudges an elbow to the side to gesture to the room at large, vaguely attempting to identify everything as the problem.] --this chaos!

It's disgusting! [Kid's fingers twitch in their place over his eyes.] Just looking at it makes me ill! It's hideous and revolting--how do you stand such an unbalanced mess?!

[The teen isn't hysterical. Yet. This seems entirely because he has his face covered, deliberately avoiding looking out to the room around him.]

From:

exequies

[Oh dear. Hysterical or not, he seems to be having quite the adverse reaction. Undertaker's not well prepared to deal with something like this (as frankly amusing as it might be under normal circumstances) and just helplessly glances around at his front room for a moment. It is cluttered, he'll agree to that, but that's just how he likes it.

Bending down, he takes one of Kid's arms by the elbow and tries to offer a compromise.]

I just do, I suppose. Keep your other hand over your eyes and I'll take you to the kitchen.

[If Kid will allow himself to be guided, that is. It's in a much cleaner (and what looks like newer) state, separated from the rest by a thick curtain.]

From:

equal_shots

Let the kitchen be better than this!

[He's thankfully still on his feet, so it isn't terribly hard to move him along. Kid is much more accustomed to movement in the dark now and manages to trail after Undertaker without incident.

Even when he's fairly sure they're in a different room--he's able to sense the slightly different temperature, the difference of sound reverberating in the room--Kid keeps his eyes both closed and covered.

He's already seen enough.] You're sure it's better in here? Outside, maybe...

[After all, his first real conversation with Undertaker had started with the man deliberately undoing his organization in an old kitchen.]

From:

exequies

[He hasn't used the kitchen much yet, today. Aside from a small dusting of flour on the countertop and an unwashed dough roller, it's clean. The pots and pans are stowed and all of the cabinets and doors are closed, so as long as Kid doesn't go looking for disorganization there's minimal to be found.

Once he's closed the curtain between the rooms, he lets Kid's elbow go.]

See for yourself. I really don't know what's an appropriate surrounding for you.

[But it's the same kitchen that Monty had designed for him in Between, so it's... much more uniform, at least.]

From:

equal_shots

[Kid hesitantly peeks between his fingers before removing his hand. The kitchen is blessedly more uniform, and he breathes a sigh of relief as the image of the room sets in. His shoulders sink, finally relaxing.]

Much better.

[He's able to focus on Undertaker now, though he does fish a handkerchief from his pocket and begin addressing the flour on the counter, as if it were entirely normal. As he does so, he glances over his shoulder to address Undertaker.]

You are very worried about Dr. Watson...that he might do something foolish?

From:

exequies

Hang on--Before we get on to that, what exactly was that about?

[Watson can wait for just a few more minutes.]

From:

equal_shots

That's really unnecessary. The problem is solved, isn't it?

[Kid has brushed the flour off the counter and shaken out the handkerchief before turning to the rolling pin and pulling his sleeves up slightly before turning on the tap to clean it also.

He might just be playing off his nerves as nothing, but the slight set of his shoulders suggests he's still more flustered than he'd care to admit.] Order is important, though it's not worth a discussion now. There are more pressing matters.

From:

exequies

[Undertaker continues to observe him as he cleans, quite obviously thinking to himself. But Kid does have a point; just one issue at a time, for now.

Folding his arms upwards near his chest, he leans his back against the wall next to the stove with a small sigh.]

Alright. Back to Dr. Watson... yes, you're correct. He's acting quite unlike himself.

From:

equal_shots

[Nevermind your ogling, Undertaker. Kid is busy. The cleaned rolling pin is dried with a dishcloth that Kid finds hanging somewhere, and he dries it with the focus of someone attending to a life-or-death task.]

Unlike himself in what way? [The teen holds the rolling pin in his hands, frowning.] How is it bad enough that you're worried he might do something foolish?

From:

exequies

[Undertaker continues to watch out of the corner of his eyes before he finally leans over and plucks the rolling pin by one end, tugging it out of Kid's hands. Then rolls it between his own palms just to have something to fidget.]

He hardly reacted to my tactics when I tried to make him angry. [Which he knows in and of itself isn't too much evidence.]

I glimpsed a particular look in his eyes, though. I've seen it more often than I've had any care to, particularly in myself. It's made me think that he may be close to giving up.

From:

equal_shots

Ordinarily, he has a temper. More than I had thought when we first met.

[The towel Kid is carefully folding falls still as he looks up at the other reaper, his expression carefully neutral. It's plastered on neutrality, deliberate, but Kid won't allow his nerves to win here.]

I already told you that I doubt he'll tell me anything. All that he's said... [He hesitates. John's admission of a past with anxiety was both deeply private and deeply personal. It was a privilege to be privy to the information, even if it had been shared in an attempt to help him with his own disordered thinking. As such, it was knowledge Kid decided to keep to himself.] ...he's said he doesn't like to worry children anymore, or put any further burden on us.

[He doesn't notice that he's gotten the towel balled tightly in his hands.] But I am certain I'll be able to distract him.

From:

exequies

[Some of the tightly wound energy coming from him dissipates, glad that Kid isn't prying any further than that. There's not much else that needs to be said; Undertaker's intention from the start was just for the other reaper to act as a distraction from any darker thoughts that Watson might be vulnerable to in his state.

Especially if he's already made statements like that, before, which only confirms Undertaker's suspicions that Kid was the correct choice to call on.

He gives a nod, pausing in his fidgeting.]

No need to interrogate the man, no. Just keep an eye on him.

[He planned on doing a bit of that, himself, but having two pairs of eyes was better than one. Well, figuratively speaking, when his were barely functional.]

From:

equal_shots

I doubt he'd allow me to babysit, but I'm confident I can at least keep his attention elsewhere for some time.

[Much like Undertaker allowed Kid off the hook for his earlier display, the teen is returning the courtesy. A tone of voice that suggested he not ask simply meant that Kid kept his questions and concerns to himself. For now.

Let it not be said that Kid himself is incapable of maintaining a carefully crafted facade of neutrality when the need truly arose.] Now, to keep him busy...

[The neatly folded dishtowel is placed back on the counter, and Kid crosses his arms.] Do you have a sharp knife? Suturing should keep a trauma surgeon busy at least for a little while.

[That Look says he's entirely serious, too.]

From:

exequies

[That question makes him blink once, surprised at the request but perhaps not as concerned by it as a normal person should be. He knows immediately what Kid intends to do and doesn't seem to disapprove of it if his next actions are any indication. Wordlessly, he sets the rolling pin down on the counter and pushes away from the wall, striding a few short paces to a kitchen drawer.

He pulls it open, rattling silverware and various utensils within it as he does so before he extracts--not a steak or paring knife--but a scalpel from it. Which he hands over to Kid with a hint of a smile and a small shrug.]

Cuts biscuit dough the best.

From:

equal_shots

Now I really don't want any of your biscuits.

[He takes the scalpel and is able to make blessedly short work of his task. The blade is sharp enough that when he sinks it into his upper left arm, first cutting the fabric of his shirt and then pressing it into the skin and muscle beneath. He meets no resistance until the scalpel blade meets bone, and tugs downwards until he's certain he's caught the brachial artery--if the amount of blood pouring from the wound is any indication, he's sure he's found his mark.

The scalpel is then discarded into the sink; the hand that should be applying pressure might be digging into the wound to better keep it open. And Kid watches with just the slightest hint of discomfort, jaw set in what seems to be more irritation than pain.

It hasn't yet struck him that he's left himself off balance. In a few minutes.] Good enough. It should last long enough for a few stitches.

From:

exequies

[He can't help but snicker a bit at Kid's reaction, following it up with,]

At least I have a proper oven and not a cremator for baking, now.

[And when the younger reaper uses the scalpel to stab himself, Undertaker appears indifferent. His own pain tolerance was stupidly high and he suspects that the other's healing ability is close to if not equal to his own. It's moreso the copious amount of blood dripping on the floor that he chooses to complain about, ironically considering his state of living.]

And good enough to leave more work for me~! Go off before you make a bigger mess of my floors.

From:

equal_shots

[He's careful to keep his fingers in the wound to prevent any chance of healing, and shoots Undertaker a glare.]

I cleaned your counters. Call it a trade.

[Kid huffs before heading out the door. He's quick and quiet, and Undertaker will even find that the teen manages to leave fairly little blood in his wake and no smudges on the front door.

From outside though, the reaper might be able to hear a strangled cry of horror, followed by panicked rambling that grows quieter as he makes his way to the clinic: Hideous asymmetric filth! Unbalanced--why just a single cut on the left? There could have been two perfectly symmetrical cuts on both sides! I am a failure as a grim reaper! What sort of reaper would allow this?!]

From:

aigue

[Merry Christmas, Kid! On the 25th a package will be left on his doorstep containing a skull collar pin. The tag attached has a very foxy paw print, three guesses as to who it is from.]

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