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Lady Sherlock

PostPosted: Wed Feb 23, 2011 8:54 am


T r a v i s - D y e r


Travis turned when he heard the handle to the front door rattle a little, signifying that they were either about to get robbed by some really stupid robber who actually took the time to pick locks, and on Christmas morning, of all times, or, more likely, that the old man was home. Travis's lips thinned in a slight grimace. Why couldn't burglars rob on Christmas day? That would be so much better than the other option.
The man sighed and turned his back to the door, seeing William start at the wrapping of the first present. They had barely gotten into anything when the door opened and a gust of freezing wind swept into the house. Travis shuddered a little, but aside from that, gave no recognition that anything was different from the way it had been before Armando got home.

"Did I miss presents?"

Travis winced. Yep. Wasn't a burglar. Goddamnit. Why did burglars have to be so practical? If it had been someone who had come here to steal, Travis probably would have happily invited him in for chocolate before offering him things to steal, like the hideous couch. Though the thief probably wouldn't want to take anything from this house, considering the items within it. Travis would probably have had to pay him to take some of it, and that would have been a waste. Still, it would have been better than what actually walked through the door, in Travis's opinion.

Travis kept his eyes trained on William, who stopped and smiled at the mechanic, as he heard Armando seat himself on the checkered couch, refusing to look that way. If anything, his expression betrayed a general negative emotion, such as great annoyance and anger tinged with a little of an indignant pout. This was Armando's house, so it would feel weird kicking him out; thank god for that otherwise Armando would have been back out the door in no time. William glanced to Travis, whom he expected to say something to 'papa' with the usual scowl, and frowned a little when it didn't happen. Instead, he left his present and went off to the fridge where he had used a magnet to fasten his own drawing up there the previous day when no one was really looking. The boy took it down and walked back to Armando, who was probably looking at the boy curiously, and gave it to Armando. With a sweet little voice, for he rarely spoke, William said, "For papa." Then with a glance at Travis, William turned back and beamed a bright smile at Armando. "And mama," he added.

Travis cringed when he heard those words. There was no way that the boy was referring to the two of them, was it? He too was watching the boy, not able to really see what was on the paper. He was actually scared to see what hellish fantasy William had come up with regarding a happy family—or worse, marriage. It was already disgusting to have kissed the man, now William wanted them to marry? A bit too fast and too impossible for the mechanic. Not to mention too absolutely repulsive. Actually, not too much; just enough. Travis remained silent and watched with a careful eye.



A s s i s t a n t - M e c h a n i c
PostPosted: Tue Jul 12, 2011 6:17 am


R a ú l A r m a n d o

Armando tried not to feel as though he were walking in uninvited into someone else’s home. The scene looked cozy, even if it was just Travis watching groggily as William discovered that he did in fact have presents, scattering brown wrapping paper over Armando’s worn rug. Of course that was silly! It was Armando’s house after all; he’d even bought the building a couple years ago!

The mechanic rubbed his hands together to get some of the warmth back in them, not that it was doing much for him. While the shiny new mechanical hand was far more functional than his previous one, as he’d happily discovered during his morning’s escapades, it was also metal, and retained the chilly edge of the outdoors long after Armando had ventured inside. It really was freezing out there.

His eyes widened when presented with the present. Sure his family gifted him with some fruit and some practical item of clothing or crockery, and the downstairs tenants would often come up with some food for their poor bachelor landlord. Even knowing that he and William had gone out and bought a thing or two for Travis, it hadn’t really occurred to him that William might think to make one for him.

With a broad smile, Armando accepted the slip of paper, appraising it with the same wide grin. Scrawled by William’s ever-so-practiced hand in blue crayon was a careful illustration of what Armando could only assume was their small “family”. Though they were mere stick figures, it was easy to differentiate between the figures on either side of the smaller “William”. There was no mistaking that scowl, or that scarf for that matter, as anyone but Travis. Although the open-mouthed grin and particularly clunky hand on the opposite figure was hardly inconspicuous either. The sight of it made Armando’s heart wrench, almost painfully.

“This is great, Little Man! Thank you so much!” His joy was almost enough to make him forget the weight of the papers in his own pocket.

Armando was prevented from further praise of William’s artistic talent by a knock on the door. He finally chanced a glance at Travis, just to see if he was planning on answering the knock. After a moment’s hesitation, Armando rose from his seat and opened the door. He was somehow relieved to see the aforementioned tenants and not say… a robber or something. Not that they had anything worth stealing. Lord knows they’d probably have to pay the burglar to take some things (like the hideous couch). It never even occurred to him to wonder what sort of thief knocked on front doors on Christmas morning.

Instead, Armando was quick to usher the widowed Mr. Craige, his two daughters, Nina and Patricia, as well as the fruit cobbler and spinach pie they had brought, into the house.

T h e M e c h a n i c

After Midnight Blue

Dapper Informer


Lady Sherlock

PostPosted: Fri Nov 04, 2011 5:40 am


T r a v i s - D y e r


Travis watched the exchange between William and Armando quietly, not liking the frown that William had given him before. The assistant didn’t like seeing the boy unhappy, especially on Christmas morning, but what was he supposed to do? Absolve Armando of all his sins so he could escape to heaven when it was time? Yeah, right. Absolving him would be a sin in itself, or so Travis thought as he continued to brood. Nevertheless, he knew that William was unhappy with this tension (the boy had a keen eye for things that should’ve been far above his head at that young age), and grudgingly resolved to try a little on Christmas for the sake of that boy. But only enough. No further.

When Armando glanced at Travis due to the knock at the door, Travis made solid eye contact and held it, a little challengingly. He still was pretty disgusted with himself, but at least he wasn’t yelling. That was an improvement from what he would have done if he had encountered Armando right when he first woke up. Travis was satisfied when Armando walked off to get the door, since he was the one who had broken eye contact first. There was no way that Travis’s anger was backing down, William or not. It was just that he would hide it better for the boy’s sake.

And then the Happy People walked in, full of Christmas Cheer and Merriment. Why did people have to be so social on Christmas? Why couldn’t this holiday have been about self-reflection and avoiding people who sinned instead? That would cover all the necessary realms that would make Travis satisfied for the day, but apparently, he would remain broody throughout the rest of the day, considering how things were going.

When Mr. Craige and his daughters walked in, Travis made no move to introduce himself, and left the introduction of William up to Armando. He’d be civil (which, in Travis’s case, meant that he wouldn’t glare at the neighbors too much), but he didn’t have to be nice. Travis remained in his chair as they put the cobbler and pie down on the counter. And as good neighbors should, they took off their weather gear and turned to the new people in the room.

Smiling, Mr. Craige approached and spoke, “Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Dan.” He extended his hand to Travis, who looked at it, then up at the man. His arms remained crossed over his chest, the remnants of his indignant look on his face. He didn’t look unlike a child who didn’t want to see his hated Aunt Bertha at a family reunion, and was throwing a silent fit just to get his way. This was him trying to be merry for William’s sake, but he was obviously failing. His mind was simply too preoccupied with Armando and last night (not to mention the creepy dreams that had invaded his personal mind space).



A s s i s t a n t - M e c h a n i c
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