Arthur Lester (
lestercraft) wrote2022-10-31 05:48 pm
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TLV: IC Inbox

"This is Arthur Lester. I'm not available right now, but do leave a message and I'll find the time. A-a voice message, please."
Text | Audio | Video | Spam
[OOC: Please note Arthur is blind, so audio format is strongly ICly preferred, but by God don't let that stop you]
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And he'll stay there a bit longer, listening intently, because he wouldn't put it past Misty to only pretend to leave so she can remain and fuck up more of his shit.
Eventually, he moves; he hears the ceramic she kicked towards him bounce off his shoe as he carefully shifts his feet, trying not to step into the mess, and eventually makes it back to his desk, so he can drop himself into his chair and just. Rest his head in his one hand, and try to breathe through the fury until it calms.
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He starts cleaning up the ceramic, careful with his fingers since he's not sure if he can injure himself or if it would injure Arthur. He hadn't made his entrance quiet but he also hadn't spoken until then. Mostly because he wasn't sure of what to say.
"I'm cleaning up the cup first," he says calmly, "and then..."
A pause.
"Are you okay, Arthur?"
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John's voice makes something in his stiff posture settle, though, and the hand on his face moves to scrub down it.
"I'm alright, John." He doesn't want to interrupt John cleaning, when he won't be able to do it himself, but a part of him is desperate for the comforting voice to be back in his head again. "I, uh... had a. A-a conversation, with Miss Quigley."
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"Ah," is his comment on that. He's not surprised. He's also not... upset.
"She's... a lot."
There's another trip to the garbage before he's reasonably certain he's gotten all of it. Arthur will be able to tell by how the edge of John's mask settles against his fingers.
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He'd never had to worry about being harmed by John. To be left without him in that... it had jarred him somewhat more than he wants to admit.
"She wanted to talk," he says, his voice low and hoarse. "When I offered to let her choose the place, she chose here. She... kept trying to push that Natalie and I should be friends, that- I should have read her file, o-or that I should care if Natalie should decide to never tell me something-- she was so desperate to make a group of all of us."
His thumb finds the hole for one eye of the mask, and he traces the smooth edges thoughtlessly. "When I told her that I didn't have reason to care about Natalie, that- I thought forcing a group was- was unnecessary and- f-frankly rather annoying, she... accused me of interpreting everything maliciously. I-I..."
He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. "Well. You know what I'm like. When I insulted her, she smashed the cup and stormed out."
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[ Nothing but concern and sympathy here, Arthur. John is listening, but he's mostly just... settling inside of Arthur, trying to be a steady weight, some sort of soothing presence. ]
[I'm glad you're not hurt. I wish-
Well... it hardly matters what I wish.
The cup is cleaned up. She wasn't here when I walked in. Nor anywhere around our doors.]
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He leans back, resting his head on the cupboard door and sighing heavily.
"I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. She's still an inmate, I'm- I'm supposed to show some fucking compassion. She's just--"
He struggles with the words for a moment, before he just grunts in annoyance. "She's infuriating."
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Sigh. ]
[She reminds me of myself in a lot of ways. But... less willing to compromise.]
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"At least you know how to admit when you're wrong. When I told her she needed to find a different way to relate to me that wasn't by using Natalie as a prop, she doubled down and accused me of making problems to blame on other people."
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After a moment.
[ I try to be. But I did need to learn. You taught me a lot about that. ]
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I know it's not just pride, though. She takes it very seriously.]
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He'll pause before-
[Would you like help in here, since this room is new? We can make you fresh tea.]
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It was still odd, sometimes, how settling John's presence was when it turned into their companionable silences; he hates how twitchy Misty's departure has left him, but John was a good comfort.
"You know," he says, trying to sound more relaxed and natural. "I didn't realise how much goddamn labelling being blind would require. We'll have to fix some of the cupboards here."
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I have access to plenty of them at the art gazebo. We could designate certain shapes for certain things. Then hang them in the right places.]
He'll direct him quietly through the process of making the tea, where the water tap is, where the kettle is, where the stove controls are, where to pour. All of it, with a smooth and gentle tone.
He's usually informational, but right now, he's pointedly trying to be gentle. He can tell Arthur feels... less than great.
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"That sounds like an excellent idea," he says warmly, turning to lean his hip against the counter and turn his head to look at the cupboards for John. "Possibly we may need to be a little more conservative with colours on them, if we're going to invite people over, but- how many shapes do beads even come in?"
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And there are several different shapes: circles, oblongs, cubes, pyramids, triangles, squares, rectangles, hearts, stars.
Once you start combining them in groups of two or three, you have even more options.]
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"Let's try and keep it moderately simple. Let's see... uh, perhaps circles for the crockery - plates and bowls and such. Let's say... triangles, for the cups. Any door with actual food can use stars, but that shouldn't be necessary for the fridge or the ice box."
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"Oh- we should do the same with the Wardrobe! It'd be damn useful knowing which aisle I was in without groping the garments."
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Perhaps... downward facing triangles for winter clothes, and upward facing for summer? Spheres for ladies, squares for mens. Star for formalwear, oblong for bathing-suits, hearts for... underthings.]
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But that seems like a good idea.
Maybe rectangles for coats?]
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The thought makes him grin. "I rather like it already."
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