[Voice]

[deservinghell]

[For Henry, the past month has been rougher than any other in recent memory. Confessing to the only person in this wretched place he is comfortable calling a friend that she'd been keeping intimate company with a vampire was more emotionally trying than he expected. But that paled in comparison to a week spent living--finding himself with a pulse for the first time in four and a quarter centuries--and then having it taken away again.]

Surely I'm not the only one who'd rather our personal timelines never sorted themselves out.

Comments

[alittlesweptup]

[Sounds like grounds for one hell of a drinking problem, mate.]

Ah. See there, now I better understand the love of Kafka. [Not that there's much to dislike about the author, but still.] Anyway, time travel being what it is here, I'm not sure there's much to be done about anything in our specific time lines -- recent events notwithstanding, of course.

[deservinghell]

[It certainly is. The tragedy's that he can't get drunk.]

No, but the possibility was easier to ignore when it didn't exist.

[alittlesweptup]

[Sounds like a challenge.]

Grass looks greener when the fence is actually possible to jump. [Oh believe that he knows that feeling. Possibility - it's an appealing thing all right.]

You know what you need, mate? A distraction.

[deservinghell]

Sounds like you already have something in mind. [Really, there's value even in taking the conversation in a different direction at this point.]

[alittlesweptup]

Book club? [It's a joke, a bad one. Mostly. Charlie's quick to wave it off with an absent gesture of the hand and a quick grin.]

But seriously, you need to get active. Personally I find punching something does wonders for clearing the head; d'you know anything about boxing?

[deservinghell]

[Violence is a brand of catharsis he knows well.] I know a thing or two, and you may be right. That's your sport, is it?

[Of all the things Charlie Cutter seems to be, he at least looks the part of a boxer.]

[alittlesweptup]

Got it in one. [He grins - because it was a hard guess, wasn't it? - and spreads his hands in good humor.]

Well if you know a thing or two, then I'll teach you thing number three and four and then instead of sulking you can try to get past my defense. I'll even swear not to hit you too hard. [Scout's honor.]

[deservinghell]

Oh, well. As long as you're swearing, I don't see any harm in it. [Though Henry supposes there is harm in not coming clean about his own level of expertise before he throws a punch.]

[alittlesweptup]

Done deal then! [And he looks terribly pleased about it.] When's a good time for you? I wouldn't want to cut into the hours you've got set aside for doing your hair.

[Ah yes, petty insults. It must be friendship.]