Suppertime

Suppertime

halvard_icon.jpg mattias_icon.jpg

Where: The Japanese Garden
When: Sunday, July 7, 2020
What: One side of an angry cell phone conversation becomes strangely calm.

"Statistics show that of those who contract the habit of eating, very few survive." - George Bernard Shaw


The sun has just dipped below the horizon, and the lights that line the Japanese Garden's paths have just lit to a soft yellow glow. The garden will be closing soon, but a few people still stroll its paths in the cooling evening air. Halvard is here as well; he has just sat on a roughly hewn bench, setting a Starbucks cup beside him and pulling paper-wrapped food from the bag he has set in his lap. It looks like an early dinner, and it smells like tacos.

The newvie strolls into the garden, moving slowly across the paths as he looked for anyone in emotional distress to feed off of. While he had managed to find a few people last night, finding more was hardly a bad thing. Mattias wasn't having much luck in the spotting so far, slowing down even more, his footsteps falling into a quiet rhythm as he started moving more towards enjoying his surroundings than actively looking.

Halvard partly unwraps a taco and starts in on it, holding it in his left hand as he takes the phone off his belt and begins thumb scrolling with his right. After a moment he pauses, scowls, taps with his thumb, then sits up as he holds the phone up to his ear, still chewing all the while. His gaze is out onto the path where Mattias is walking, though his expression makes it clear that he's not really paying attention to his food, much less to passers by.

He glances over to Halvard as he picked up the phone, making a note to take the same path back in case he ends up somehow interesting. A few minutes later Mattias returns, sighing quietly at the lack of prospective customers.

In the few minutes that have passed, Halvard has devoured one taco and most of a second while listening to his phone. He looks no happier than before, and now he juggles coffee, food, and phone as he speaks. "Jackie. Yeah — shit! Hang on…." Setting the cup down, he shakes the splashed coffee off his hand and resumes. "So — no, just spit it out. What's the problem?" He's definitely looking irritated now.

The newvie takes note of Halvard again as he comes back, hurrying over once the doctor spills the coffee. "Are you okay?" He asks, looking him over to get a better feel for his state and trying to figure out how to best sell it. Halvard wasn't exactly his standard clientele, but it was worth a shot anyway.

"Galbraith ordered *what*?" Both the pitch and volume of Hal's voice rise. "Damn it, you — yes, I know the protocols. I *wrote* the protocols! You — hang on." He drops the phone from his mouth and looks up at Mattias, clearly angry. "What do you want?" he demands.

Mattias jumps a bit. "Nothing." He says quickly, passing by Hal and turning off of the path into the dardens proper. He sits down at about the limit of his powers and starts to drain the doctor, hoping he wouldn't notice. He's got plenty of anger to spare, after all, and surely the person on the other end of the line will enjoy the change.

Halvard sighs and drops his head. "Alright…. sorry. Yeah. Yeah. Alright, I guess we're just going to have to go with that. I still want that patient in isolation, though." He rubs his forehead, then shakes his head. Beside him, his coffee cup has overturned and spilled its contents to the ground. He ignores it.

Mattias sits down cross legged, leaning forward slightly on the ground. He's not too worried about Hal spotting him at this angle, and there's no doubt that he could outrun the much older man, but there wasn't much harm in at least looking a bit less suspicious.

Another sigh. "Right." Halvard sits back on the bench, both posture and face slack. "Alright… no, fine. I'll see you in the morning." He stares at the cup as it drips the last of the coffee onto the grass below the bench as if trying to remember what it is. After a moment, he drops the phone to his lap.

He carefully opens an eye, watching Hal for a moment to make sure that he was still good. Mattias hates how long it takes to get anything from emotional vampirism, especially at as far a range as he was. Still, it was far better and easier than having to actually drink blood all the time.

Halvard shakes his head again, then hauls himself to his feet. Dully, he retrieves the bag and the cup and starts walking toward the gate that leads out to the parking lot.

The newvie sighed, a bit annoyed that he didn't get the chance to have a full meal. After waiting a few minutes as to avoid suspicion, he jumps to his feet and makes his way out of the garden a few moments before the gates close.

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