patheticvillain | fifty-three ➢ video

[Cassel's in his room, rearranging his drawer of scraps in some order discernible only to him. Ilia is perched on a high shelf, his eyes narrowed and tail twitching, disturbed by the commotion and looking ready to jump down onto Cassel's shoulders at any moment. As he rummages, Cassel addresses the camera; the moment he turns towards it, a bruise slides into view on his left temple, light and mottled black. He seems not to notice it.]

A few things. First of all, if anybody who's not all Admiral-ed up has a problem with the power outages, I think - I think I can make flashlights and lamps that don't need to be powered. [He's speaking specifically to Morgana here, but he doesn't know everybody's hangups, either, so he's leaving it open to the Barge as a whole.]

Second of all, has anybody actually gotten anywhere with the ship? Steering it or anything? Because this seems like it's getting kind of. Critical. [As Dean so astutely pointed out.]

Last thing - I know nobody cares right now, but we still need staff for the gym. At least one more person. If you feel like going slightly less stir-crazy while we're marooned in the middle of nowhere, apply now.

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Oh that is sick.

[Zach sounds perfectly earnest in his approval for you to mooch off your boyfriend, Cassel.]

I had a mate like that for a while, he was a student, right? American. His Dad was a senator, innit? Anyway, this mate of mine, he had a house. In London. Fucking serious money, that. So I showed him around the city, and he let me crash in his spare room. It's a bare wicked fucking deal, man, you ride it while you can.

Dude.

[The utmost in serious faces.]

You should've dated him.

Nah.

[Zach pulls a disapproving face at that suggestion, then looks guilty about his disapproval.]

There was already enough of that shit going on as it was. Girls involved and that. He just needed a mate.

[Suddenly this is all very, very past tense.]

[Cassel's face flickers, on-off, like a lightswitch. Now he's curious, but not too curious, perfectly pitched for the occasion.]

What the fuck are you doing being an inmate with good judgment like that?

[That just prompts another grin, and a hand plonked on Zach's heart.]

Dunno mate. Not guilty, innit?

Right, right. That's what I said, too.

[He toys with the arm on the little figurine, making it wave to the camera. Ilia eyes him disapprovingly.]

So you want him or not?

Edited 2015-05-18 01:50 (UTC)

Yeah, alright. So, do I come to you?

Door's wide open. 7-09.

[And, sure enough, a few minutes later Cassel gets an optimistic little rap on his door.]

[There's the sound of Cassel tripping over a few odds and ends inside his room, and then the door opens wide. Cassel himself steps back and grins, making space to let Zachary in. The room's half-messy, half-shrinelike, the half not full of piles of odds and ends covered in posters for old movies. The nearest one reads Attack of the Ghost Spiders and depicts a spider covered in cobwebs and, for some reason, shackles.]

Come on in. Don't mind the mess.

Alright. It's Cassel, yeah?

[He flashes Cassel a little smile, before glancing around the weird, tangled shrine that is his room, and-- yep, this place is just thick with magic. Zach can feel muscle and bone shifting in ways that it shouldn't, and he knows that it's all just an echo of whatever the hell Cassel is.]

Nice pad.

[It's not. At all. But Zach could still see himself crashing on the couch here, if Cassel proved a soft touch with guests.]

[Zach . . . stinks. Which Cassel would never mention, not even Cassel, but it makes him wrinkle his nose briefly as he makes his way back over to the desk, to the figurine.]

Thanks. It's not normally this messy, it's just . . .

[Been a week? He doesn't say it, just picks up the figurine and tosses it Zach's way without looking.]

Nah man, it's nice.

[Zach insists, catching the little figurine out of the air, and dropping his smelly butt lazily down on the nearest appropriate surface.]

You got a lot of stuff... make it all yourself?

[He suggests, admiringly.]

Edited 2015-05-19 09:55 (UTC)

I made some of it myself.

[It's true: most of the little decorations that line his desk, glass and china figurines like you might find at a grandma's house, are handmade pieces of perfection, his own work. He picks up one, a two-headed dolphin, and tosses it from hand to hand idly.]

You want another one? I can make whatever you want. I like making stuff.

Sure!

[He totally wants more stuff making. He always wants more stuff! He does kind of suspect that there's a catch to all this lurking in the shadows somewhere, but in the meantime, he'll take what he can get.]

Do a little hula dancer.

[Go on, Cassel! Chop Chop Mr 3D Printer!]

[Shockingly, there's no catch. Cassel is pretty much okay with just being an entertainer for the moment. He likes Zach already.]

[Pulling out a piece of an old pie tin, he holds it in his bare hand, sticking his tongue in his cheek. In a few moments, the pie tin is transformed into a hula dancer, the kind that actually wobbles around and dances, with a grass skirt and yellow hairpiece. Attention to detail is very important.]

[This, too, he tosses to Zach overhand.]

[Zach catches it, in the air, and holds the hula dancer up, examining it approvingly.]

So how do you do it? I'm gonna go ahead and guess that you were born different, yeah?

[He shrugs a little, turning back to his pile of crap and beginning to sort it out into smaller piles by material.]

I don't really know how it works, but yeah. It's something I've always been able to do. I didn't always know I could do it, though.

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