[ The concept of graffiti is not unknown to her, nor the desire for people to hide that it was ever there in the first place. Still, a mural does sound like a nicer thing to look at.
Most things underpay here, she might point out, but she's certain Henry's all too aware of that. ]
I know the place you mean, though I haven't driven by it recently. I'll have to stop in for a meal there and see what you painted.
[ She almost starts typing to ask if he'd like to meet her there. Adrian remains insistent that friends go out for coffee, even if their meeting with Lucina and Jason had been a minor disaster.
Is that what Henry is? A friend? He's someone she's been through something with. She catches herself, erases the message. ]
We can grab a bite there today if you want. I haven't had anything to eat yet.
[There is an irony here, about not wanting to be tethered, and yet feeling that way (if only faintly, and not unpleasantly) during this conversation is the only way he can really describe it.
Henry, it seems, is also not quick to label anyone a "friend", but is more apt to pursue what he wants, whatever that may be in the moment. If this is an itch that needs scratching, and maybe discussing, then maybe it'll also go away as quickly as it arrived.]
[ Fern blinks at her phone when that message comes in. She knows there is nothing that strange about the invitation, but the fact that he dragged her back before she pulled away, whether he knows he's doing it or not (does he?) gives her a moment of pause.
People ask acquaintances out to get a meal, sometimes. Eating together with someone you know is normal. Alucard's invited her before. It's nothing strange, but the way she immediately wants to agree is the exact reason that she briefly leaves him on read.
Briefly. Ten minutes, tops. Sorry, Henry. ]
Yes, that sounds good. I could eat.
[ And maybe face-to-face, she can determine if some of the strange things she's felt in the past week or so have also been happening to him. ]
[Not Henry Creel undergoing the real lived human experience of being left on read for the first time in his life.
But it's for a short ten minutes; not truly enough for a man like Henry to feel uncertain about his ask. And only enough room for the slightest tinge of disappointment that immediately washes away when his phone lights up with a reply.]
Okay.
[He is eager to speak about what's happening to him. Does she feel it?
(And—though he'd rather die than admit it—he is excited to show her his mural, too.)]
[ It's something that every person living in the world of cell phones has to learn to endure one day...
Half an hour seems rather fast, but Fern has no reason to push back the time, really. She works in the evenings and generally sets aside the early morning and midday for catching up on sleep or running errands.
So, guess this is happening. ]
I'll be there.
[ And so she arrives promptly to the cafe. Henry might spot her on her bike, the one she had to abandon at the haunted house during their last ordeal, as she cuts a quick corner in search of a parking spot. As she walks up a minute or so later, she's dressed appropriately for the weather, with layers, sturdy boots, a jacket, gloves, and a hood pulled up over her ears.
She waves at Henry as she approaches, taking care with her footing on the icy sidewalk, and then glances to find the mural she was told of. ]
[Henry doesn't take into account that she could be clear across the other end of the city. The cafe is close to where he's staying, so he doesn't need to drive; he just walks, and it takes him fifteen minutes to get there.
Which means he's waiting near the entrance when she arrives, hard to miss with her familiar motorcycle as she seeks parking. He, too, is dressed appropriately for the weather and radiates his usual prim, proper, and polite vibe. His hands are hidden in the pockets of his brown bomber jacket to keep warm.
Compared to how she saw him last, it's as though he's reset himself. No more (visible) anger, hair perfectly combed and coifed, and not a single drop of blood to be seen.]
Hi.
[He offers a smile. Warm, blooming satisfaction crawls inside every vein as she approaches, thanks to whatever the hell is happening to him, and he would curse the feeling were it not so grounding.]
If you're looking for my mural, it's around the other side of the building.
[ The jacket doesn't quite fit the image Fern's had of Henry based on how he's dressed every other time they've met, but with the snowfall and the colder temperature, everyone has to make do.
He does seem to be back to normal, for whatever that means for either of them. If he's still suffering the headaches and nosebleeds, they at least seem to be less frequent.
Does that mean he's learned his lesson? The truth he shared with her in the aftermath of their run-in with the Skinner is something she's still digesting. But for whatever he might feel beneath the surface, this seems to be the way he likes to present himself in public. (And she understands that — wanting to control how others view you.)
Either way, it is good to see him looking better, and even greeting her with a smile. A weight on her chest lifts, and for a moment her brow furrows with confusion, but it doesn't appear to be directed at him. ]
Hello, Henry. It's good to see you.
[ The words come out before she can think better of them, leaving her even more confused at herself. She clears her throat. ]
... Lead the way, then. [ She draws closer, ready to follow him. ]
[Has he learned his lesson? Has he?? 🙂 Time will tell.
But he does seem relatively normal, and Fern seems to be doing well enough, too, so he just tilts his head slightly in the direction he intends to lead her-]
All right. Just over here; it faces the street, so maybe people will have a chance to appreciate it before it gets graffitied over again.
[A small mote of pride mixed with cynism. Both utterly sincere, and she will come to learn that this is very, very Henry. He turns and leads her around the building, and his work becomes obvious almost immediately. She will be struck with the color green, first and foremost. Henry has painted the side of the building to look like crawling foliage, with wide thick leaves, splaying across the side. Vines, interweaving. And on the leaves, painted with careful precision that is also indicative of his character, are all sorts of little bugs.
They're lovingly rendered. There is, of course, a little jumping spider here and there amid the collection.
This is a far cry from painting a logo in a bowling alley. Did this take him a week? Two?]
They wanted a "nature" scene, I guess to contrast against the rest of this dirty city. So I gave it to them.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Most things underpay here, she might point out, but she's certain Henry's all too aware of that. ]
I know the place you mean, though I haven't driven by it recently. I'll have to stop in for a meal there and see what you painted.
[ She almost starts typing to ask if he'd like to meet her there. Adrian remains insistent that friends go out for coffee, even if their meeting with Lucina and Jason had been a minor disaster.
Is that what Henry is? A friend? He's someone she's been through something with. She catches herself, erases the message. ]
no subject
We can grab a bite there today if you want. I haven't had anything to eat yet.
[There is an irony here, about not wanting to be tethered, and yet feeling that way (if only faintly, and not unpleasantly) during this conversation is the only way he can really describe it.
Henry, it seems, is also not quick to label anyone a "friend", but is more apt to pursue what he wants, whatever that may be in the moment. If this is an itch that needs scratching, and maybe discussing, then maybe it'll also go away as quickly as it arrived.]
no subject
People ask acquaintances out to get a meal, sometimes. Eating together with someone you know is normal. Alucard's invited her before. It's nothing strange, but the way she immediately wants to agree is the exact reason that she briefly leaves him on read.
Briefly. Ten minutes, tops. Sorry, Henry. ]
Yes, that sounds good. I could eat.
[ And maybe face-to-face, she can determine if some of the strange things she's felt in the past week or so have also been happening to him. ]
no subject
But it's for a short ten minutes; not truly enough for a man like Henry to feel uncertain about his ask. And only enough room for the slightest tinge of disappointment that immediately washes away when his phone lights up with a reply.]
Okay.
[He is eager to speak about what's happening to him. Does she feel it?
(And—though he'd rather die than admit it—he is excited to show her his mural, too.)]
Meet you there in half an hour?
no subject
Half an hour seems rather fast, but Fern has no reason to push back the time, really. She works in the evenings and generally sets aside the early morning and midday for catching up on sleep or running errands.
So, guess this is happening. ]
I'll be there.
[ And so she arrives promptly to the cafe. Henry might spot her on her bike, the one she had to abandon at the haunted house during their last ordeal, as she cuts a quick corner in search of a parking spot. As she walks up a minute or so later, she's dressed appropriately for the weather, with layers, sturdy boots, a jacket, gloves, and a hood pulled up over her ears.
She waves at Henry as she approaches, taking care with her footing on the icy sidewalk, and then glances to find the mural she was told of. ]
no subject
Which means he's waiting near the entrance when she arrives, hard to miss with her familiar motorcycle as she seeks parking. He, too, is dressed appropriately for the weather and radiates his usual prim, proper, and polite vibe. His hands are hidden in the pockets of his brown bomber jacket to keep warm.
Compared to how she saw him last, it's as though he's reset himself. No more (visible) anger, hair perfectly combed and coifed, and not a single drop of blood to be seen.]
Hi.
[He offers a smile. Warm, blooming satisfaction crawls inside every vein as she approaches, thanks to whatever the hell is happening to him, and he would curse the feeling were it not so grounding.]
If you're looking for my mural, it's around the other side of the building.
no subject
He does seem to be back to normal, for whatever that means for either of them. If he's still suffering the headaches and nosebleeds, they at least seem to be less frequent.
Does that mean he's learned his lesson? The truth he shared with her in the aftermath of their run-in with the Skinner is something she's still digesting. But for whatever he might feel beneath the surface, this seems to be the way he likes to present himself in public. (And she understands that — wanting to control how others view you.)
Either way, it is good to see him looking better, and even greeting her with a smile. A weight on her chest lifts, and for a moment her brow furrows with confusion, but it doesn't appear to be directed at him. ]
Hello, Henry. It's good to see you.
[ The words come out before she can think better of them, leaving her even more confused at herself. She clears her throat. ]
... Lead the way, then. [ She draws closer, ready to follow him. ]
no subject
But he does seem relatively normal, and Fern seems to be doing well enough, too, so he just tilts his head slightly in the direction he intends to lead her-]
All right. Just over here; it faces the street, so maybe people will have a chance to appreciate it before it gets graffitied over again.
[A small mote of pride mixed with cynism. Both utterly sincere, and she will come to learn that this is very, very Henry. He turns and leads her around the building, and his work becomes obvious almost immediately. She will be struck with the color green, first and foremost. Henry has painted the side of the building to look like crawling foliage, with wide thick leaves, splaying across the side. Vines, interweaving. And on the leaves, painted with careful precision that is also indicative of his character, are all sorts of little bugs.
They're lovingly rendered. There is, of course, a little jumping spider here and there amid the collection.
This is a far cry from painting a logo in a bowling alley. Did this take him a week? Two?]
They wanted a "nature" scene, I guess to contrast against the rest of this dirty city. So I gave it to them.