#ic.jose

An  explanation  often  brought  more  comfort  than  the  unknown.  An  ability  to  swallow  something  more  substantial  than  clueless  speculation  on  the  things  that  occur.  It's  why  many  things  may  be  chalked  up  to  magic  or  witchcraft...  to  simply  explain  away  the  unknown.  The  very  word  often  brought  fear.  Being  unable  to  explain  away...  somehow  any  other  word  taking  its  place  could  strike  less  unease  in  one's  heart.  At  least,  that's  what  Jose  hoped  for  in  a  sense.

Tonight's  poison  of  choice  was  a  bottle  of  wine  found  among  the  rows  of  aged  indulgences  within  the  depths  of  the  cellar,  ripe  for  the  picking  in  his  eyes.  Not  so  crass  to  drink  straight  from  the  bottle,  he  has  filled  the  glass  he  held  near  to  the  brim  moments  ago.  Now,  it  rests  half-empty  as  he  lets  it  swirl  with  a  small  tilt  of  the  stem  as  he  thinks.  To  think  this  might  become  a  habit,  their  little  interactions  here  and  there.  Was  it  by  fate  of  the  things  that  exist  beyond  their  comprehension  that  lets  those  noisy  nights  quiet  a  little  more,  or  perhaps  sheer  luck  that  he  had  yet  to  find  reason  not  to  hold  him  farther  than  arm's  length  from  himself.

"  You  could  say  that  for  half  the  residents  here,  couldn't  you  ?  Though,  I  suppose  some  would  rather  revel  in  the  whimsy  of  the  unexplained.  "  The  glass  is  brought  forth  to  his  own  lips  in  a  quiet  drink  following.  "  Which  leaves  me  to  ask  where  you  side  on  that  line  ?  Something  tells  me  you  accept  things  as  is  without  that  much  explanation...  care  to  prove  me  wrong  ?  "

" Just about anything is possible here, my dear. " A brain-boggler for sure. If one could only fathom what was already known, unable to process the supernatural... well, they wouldn't last long here. Perhaps it's the interest in mysticism ( or drunken acceptance ) that allowed him to adjust sooner than others. To think he arrived with the idea of deception in his mind, only to learn that the manor's own deception in luring desperate souls here.

" Whether you want it to or not, there is plenty to learn about this place. Far exceeding any level of normality the more... beings you meet. "

" Simplifying my ability to conquer the waves to mainly luck is a bit of an insult there, my dear. " As irrational as it indeed was, there was more to it than hoping the weather itself was blessed by the gods for the likes of them. A wry, yet courteous simper appears ( purely out of cordial behavior, though a few more drinks may lower those formalities & sensibility in the near future ) as he crosses his arms.

" We plan our voyages accordingly. And when there comes the days we face storms, we are not always without casualties from it. Though I am more than capable of ensuring that we avoid it as much as possible. ...Besides, a few offerings to a higher being often helps ensure safe travels. "

A glimpse of slate colored locks caught out of the corner of his eye as he finds the other inviting himself to join him as he tends to his pocket watch. A gentle cloth swiping against cool metal to make it shine time & time again. A flicker of his eye from Richard to his watch, he continues as though it was the usual.

" Then perhaps you should find something to do. " Boredom often a tortuous being, that even he isn't immune to. Amusement paints his lips in a simper, as it was not his responsibility to keep him entertained. " Perhaps let Mr. Frank spin your head on those tales he tells to anyone within earshot. "

" And now, you taste the dish. To serve without it meeting your standards is an insult to yourself and to the others. " The first officer spoons the stew into a smaller dish for the other to try, holding it out for him. Very rarely has he ever seen the other cook ( for a lack of trying to see really ). Today seemed rather unusual, but given their circumstances... nothing was all that usual.

" I know how I feel about it. Now it's your turn. Does it need anything ? Or would you be fine with serving it ? "

" And if I don't, I might as well have fired a flare up in the air, telling everyone where I am. " The first officer continues to limp away from the cause of his injury, an all too well placed bear trap that had sunk its metal teeth past leather boots & deep into the flesh & muscle. Not even the strongest of liquors could ease the pain that seared up his leg with every ounce of weight placed upon it. Palm presses against the wall, forcing himself to continue further towards the stairway up this accursed farmhouse. Slowly, but surely, he makes his way up. Halfway, his head turns halfway to the right to look at the knight.

" Stay if you want to win this, otherwise, get out of here before that damned hunter tries to find its prey here. "

Tick, tick, ticking away, the second hand glides over the face of a well-cared for pocket watch, as cerulean hue watches it run in the same path it always did. Ever stuck in routine, unable to venture anywhere other than what it was designed to move to. His mind swimming with thoughts that sunk him deeper & deeper, hearing the whispers of the sea before a familiar aroma fills the room & captures his attention.

Before gentle words could be spoken, his head lifts, turning over to match the scent to the dish made for him. Eye flickered from the dish to her, offering a smile in gratitude as it's served to him.

" Did you ever tell me that you were a cook ? " He'll do his best to reserve judgement to her cooking abilities, as a cook himself. The gesture was warming, letting his mind surface & relax as he's reminded of better times with this. " Thank you. It smells great. "