Caleb Rathbone

Audrey supressed a smile and shook her head, “Since we’re talking about him in the third person… No, he doesn’t.” She tilted her head to one side and raised onne eyebrow at the deal he offered but took even if she knew there was no way he could deliver; besides she didn’t like to talk about blood the way humans talked about food. “Fine, consider my broken heart mended.” His reaction to her bashing Canadian fast food was far more amusing, “Sure it isn’t. Only it is and a child can actually make it. Don’t get your paties in a twist. I’m not saying it’s not good…” She laughed reaching at the back of the shelf for the fresher veggies. “I already knew that, though. Ooh, lasagna yes. Cheese, butter, cream; too much dairy, that’s like an Oliver time bomb. I don’t want a lecture about the industry.” Tomato and basil sauce would work just fine. “But I can’t vote. What I can do, though, is go over there, pretend to be a Republi-cunt, get close and compel the shit out of him. Saving the world can be my thing from now on.”

“Never has, never will.” Caleb chimed, still referring to himself in the same third-person manner just for kicks before continuing on about the different food pyramid between them humorously. He did offer a mischievous though completely heartfelt smile as she accepted his way to heal her heart back to full health jokingly with blood bags. Caleb knew better than to joke like this with vampires, but it was Audrey; he trusted her. “You’re undermining its confectioning and that’s hurtful, I’ll just have to prove you wrong. My mom’s staying here for a few days, I’ll just tell her to make you poutine! And... dammit Oliver!” He grunted just as the vampire reminded him of his cousin’s lactose intolerance. “Fine, but can we at least put a whole lot of cheese on my side of the tray? Cause a lasagna without cheese is just... bland.” To be fair, it would be best if he stayed out of all those calories, not like he kept count of his diet but because he tried to keep it balanced. Caleb tried to eat as healthy as possible but Italian was too good to resist. “Listen, if I knew I could skip jail time, or worse, I would’ve already tried to come up with some kind of spell, maybe turning him into a pig or something. Which would be sad if he still won, cause then it’d just be a really bad rendition of Animal Farm.”

roleplayer-helps:

Audrey gasped placing her hand on her chest. “That hurt. But I don’t remember you ever saying no whenever I cooked for all you ungrateful Rathbones. You’re welcome to sit around and watch the rest of us eat next time.” She rose one eyebrow, almost challenging him to say more about her cooking. That was one skill she was very proud of; even Caleb wasn’t allowed to question it. Audrey chuckled and rolled her eyes, “Yes, but there are 100 and more different recipes. I’m fishing for ideas and need specifics. Poutine is fries, cheese and gravy. A child can make that. So you’ll eat my food if you’re desperate? That’s very nice of you, Cal.” She joked with a light scoff and mirrored his shrug, “I’m just glad I got to see my folks. It had been a while.” Audrey frowned and shivered, “What a clown! I haven’t come to a solid conclusion yet but I think they’re spiking the water over there. Nothing else makes sense.”

“Caleb never says no to food, Ballard!” He chimed nonchalantly, not falling for the vampire’s gasps and challenges, much too distracted with his carrot. “Oh, come on. I’ll bring you a blood bag and call it even?” Not that he could, considering he wasn’t a vampire and didn’t exactly have access to the blood bank. Still he bumped against her in a friendly matter before she spoke and it was his time to gasp! “How dare you undermine a good poutine dish to just fries, cheese and gravy as if that was nothing big! A child can’t make that, mind you.” Granted, he was probably more Astorian than Canadian by now, and probably always had been despite having been born and raised in Toronto, but you could take a boy out of Canada but not Canada out of the boy. He still felt weak in the knees thinking about poutine and Pizza Pizza. “I’ll eat all your food, Audrey. Just make... lasagna?” There was his answer, shrugging casually as he stopped on the aisle they were walking by to grab a few jello boxes. “It’s crazy. I don’t get it. I don’t get how he’s getting so far. It’s actually a bit scary. You definitely have to go there and vote against that asshat when the time comes.”

Barra frowned and let himself out of Caleb’s grip. He was capable of walking by himself. “Calm down, Beyoncé. The laundry is not going to close for like a hour and a half.” He said taking a look at his watch. He didn’t know why Caleb asked for him to accompany, but the warlock was for the first time in months with free time, he could use a walk. He stepped his pace to catch up with the other man, finally getting on his side again. “Besides…” He started again. “It’s not like you’ll need to wear a tuxedo anytime soon, right?”

Caleb didn’t like being called names, or maybe it was just that anything and everything Barra did or say irked him, to be honest, but that’s the way their relationship had been forged. Friend of a friend, he had to like him... but he loved to hate him almost as much as he hated to love him. It still beat him why he had asked him to tag along. “Yeah, but I don’t have an hour and a half to waste, Barra.” He pointed out, not really slowing down his pace as he stole a glance at the heavy white gold watch on his wrist. “And I don’t feel like giving someone a free Burberry tux just because I missed the deadline and didn’t pick it up on time. Besides, what if I have a shotgun wedding to make or something? You never know!” Unlikely, yes, but he’d rather have his suit with him, free of any trace of blood from the night he had last worn it. “How come you have some free time, anyways? Aren’t you supposed to be super busy, all the time!?”

“Alright, I may have not cooked anything decent in like… months but I still know how to do it. That’s not the problem here.” Audrey mused upon entering Chad’s, uncertain which aisle to head down to. “What’s your favourite food?”

“I still don’t trust you.” Caleb decided to make the run to Chadwick’s with Audrey when the vampire told him she was finally back in town, taking the chance to both finally catch up and pick a few things at the grocery store, too. He found the teasing come easily between them and laughed, stealing a carrot on their way in, past the vegetables aisle, nabbing on it. “Italian, you know this. Italian like the other 90% of the world population... unless there’s poutine. Then that. Definitely that. Although I’ll say my favorite is whatever you’re offering if you ask at a time when I’m actually hungry...” He shrugged. “How did the States treat you? Might as well enjoy it now before Trump ruins it all for everyone...”

“Eh, no, I actually think that can be changed in a matter of ten years, but there is no financial interest in doing it. Not a thousand years like you say, let’s face it you can put a robot on mars, but there is no way in making more durable phones, please, it’s not that they can’t do it, is that they don’t want to. Yes, that’s exactly why we have an eco-friendly station, and actually, people don’t really dump money on cds or vinyl records anymore, they do it on mp3 or streaming music, remember that’s what you told me you did, the time you said I was in a dying field of work, but anyway the people that own cds, cassettes and vinyls are the ones that want to own the material like a piece of art or memorabilia. So it’s very likely that they won’t dump them, o and for fun fact, some vinyls are made of old vinyls.” He smiled sarcastically at the guy “Actually, I was raised to make a difference, which makes me very thankfully everyday, but anyway just a piece of advice, next time you don’t want to make a conversation or listen to what someone else have to say on a matter, don’t interrupt them with the first thing that comes to your mind, because I was having a nice conversation about chill subject with the person behind me, when you got all intense about your version of what the world needs.”

“Really? In ten years? And how much research have you done about it? Because obviously you can implement the same plan to the entire global population? Like there are absolutely no differences, even within the same country? By the way, a thousand years is a hyperbole. ” Cal was now scoffing in mild amusement, almost laughing because this man was completely unreasonable and contradictory. “Eco-friendly station.” He shook his head, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Even if it had solar panels installed, even if everything inside was built out of recycled materials, in order to communicate its product the radio station still essentially needed the things he had previously listed but he would rather let the man go on painting himself as some sort of green Gandhi. “Ah, yes. Well, you know, streaming music is not only more accessible and cheaper to produce, it also has a pretty neat sound in the right sound system but, then we have music conservatives like you who think, and I quote, it’s just hard to listen to new music that way.” Leaving a tip on the glass jar next to the pick-up counter, his coffee tray on hand as he was ready to leave, Caleb just listened, nodding idly. “Art and memorabilia versus an indispensable device that lasts you two, three years if you push it. You use it every day, all day long. Try doing that with a cd, a vinyl or a cassette, see how long it actually lasts. It will wear out, too, and perhaps faster than a phone if you use it as much as you do your phone. By the way, I did not want to make conversation. You voiced your opinion out loud and all I did was voice mine... it’s not my fault you went on to lecture me and I always feel bad for extreme moralists like yourself who blame others and pretend they have no do or say in how messed up our world is, too, because all I’m hearing is you putting blame on this or that. Life is not a radio show. You can talk someone’s ear down but just talking won’t change a thing. Do carry on with your very chill conversation before my coffee gets cold, though. Have a nice day.” Not even bothering with a sarcastic smile before departing, Caleb shook his head, turned around and left.

He listen to the guy next to him and rolled his eyes, when did they moved from music producer to the reformation the world needed, but fine if that’s what he wanted that he would get into that conversation too “Okay… if you want to go over that road, that will work one day after people learn how to actually care about something other than themselves, people care about the environment but none of the clothes they wear are green, they recycle but they change phones every year so are helping e-waste grow every year, and 70% of that waste is toxic, not to mention the amount of money they dump with the gold and silver that contain those phones and is most likely to be dumped than actually reused, your idea of what the world needs is awesome, I’m up to that, but in a world where the ones in charge of doing only care about money and usually are more likely to be conservative trash, and the ones that are supposed to be the change and the future, care more about entertainment industry and are capable of killing a rare almost extinguish dolphin species for the fun of taking a selfie, is very hard to believe that it will happen anytime soon. The world needs education, change of heart and equal opportunities for the ones that dream to make this a better world.”

All Caleb really wanted was his coffee, not a  three-minute speech on some sort of radical extremism, anti-capitalism, green conservationist who paints a world ideal only if society was led like native tribes or the Amish instead of actually using progress to their benefit. He did wear mass-produced clothes because he did not have the means, or the skills, to make his own suit, grow his cotton or silk and forge his own needles. The company he worked for was probably one of those which helped e-waste grow every year all with the intention of finding better ways in how to help fight global warming and reach a knowledge outside our very own atmosphere. “You can think like that and spend a thousand years trying to fight a way of living that will just not do, or you can actually use what we have know in our advantage, and research on better ways to further enhance our technologies to help our species survive this planet. For better or worse, we can’t control people and force them to have a change or heart, but we can plant trees and find viable ways to produce energy and find ways to involve communities in conservation programs. You can’t expect someone not to change their electronic devices constantly when technology keeps evolving. It requires less energy to charge. It lasts longer. With the change comes advances that make it more sustainable and less damaging. We’re all at fault, no one has a halo over their heads here. What do you do, again? Something with the radio, right? That needs computers and antennas, copper wires. People dumping money on cds or vinyl records which come on plastic or paper cases. If they don’t sell, artists don’t make music and you wouldn’t have a job.” Finally receiving his coffee, he placed the lids on and settled them safely on a carton tray before turning to the man. He wasn’t so much pissed at him but he was exhausted, he had real, immediate issues to deal with, and he just was in no mood to be lectured which then had him lecturing for no reason but wasting his time. “You may be right about blaming one particular class for doing this or that, but I’d rather focus on finding solutions and acting on them than pointing fingers. It’s easy to open your mouth and complain. Everyone can do that. That’s the easy part. But words are just words. Acts speak louder.”