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“ so, you wouldn't believe what i heard today, ”
“hu—uh. let me guess.” tone of his voice suggests that he is, in fact, not guessing but much rather hoping. “prosecution’s finally called to inform you that the simple act of stalling in court trials should be an emergency strategy, not your main gig.”
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“ you don’t deserve to be forgotten ”
who does? even during the years where he’d thought it no longer mattered he’d found that weighing the benefits of being the mere shade of a man against the drawbacks of soul-crushing anonymity was no riddle worth chasing after. ( no mystery to which one deep down already knew the answer ever was ). but the truth is also that it’s more complicated than this; that even if he did not deserve it p e r s e, he surely enough deserved it more than others, that his life would in many ways be simpler if only he could embrace its innate futility like a proper corpse, and that remembrance could be an honor as much as a burden—which in turn could only lead to the inevitable question of whether it wasn’t a bit too much to ask of another person as a matter par for the course from the beginning with. needless to say, this is no conversation he’s too keen on having.
“tell you what, wright. being forgotten is a natural part of life. we are born, we live, we die, ... and eventually either disappear from the memories of the people who at some point gave a damn or are taken to the grave alongside them. if that were to happen to me rather sooner than later you won’t be hearing any complaints on my part. make the mistake of forgetting who you really owe that favor to, though, and i’ll come haunting you every night up until the wee hours for the rest of your miserable life.”
@aaotori: “ hatch, ” :]...
“hatch ... ?” there’s a headache sitting right behind his eyelids; one that almost makes him forget about his involvement in this little gag in spite of the latter being the very cause for his skulking chagrin. right. here we go. “... who.”
you know, i've got a great homemade recipe that removes coffee stains, if you need it
Please. I’ve been trying to avoid going to the cleaners-
I feel like I’m going to need it in the future, too, if his friend’s as coffee happy as he is.
knock knock : D
not a beat skipped: “what do you want.”
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have you been asleep . ..
it’s rather difficult to express that the answer to this question depends entirely on whether it involves the swift delivery of a hot cup of coffee or not without ( at least to some degree ) admitting that yes, perhaps his heavy eyelids had gotten the better of him for a moment or two; and yes, perhaps his temples, squashed to varying degrees by a cold, confining metal frame in and a ( surprisingly rigid ) couch armrest, did call forth a sensation in him that couldn’t be too far from what it was like to be a canned anchovy. mind you, it’s not the admission as such that seems troublesome. it’s the repercussions—the follow-up suspicions.
in the end, he decides to ignore the query altogether and make the other man the object of scrutinization instead. “... don’t you think that your grand return to law could’ve justified a change in wardrobe? get yourself a sequins suit and liven that courtroom up a bit.” the complicated inner workings of a mildly inconvenienced engraulis anchoita are none of your business, trite.
i don't sell prosciutto
god phoenix you’re so fucking stupid
