1964-12-13 - Chats and Cats and Trouble and Tea
Summary: Just a random drop-in from Cassidy to check on Lindon and the cats with a side of te and whiskey.
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cassidy lindon 


It's been a while since Cassidy stopped by and so for reasons known only to the vampire, he turns up with a brown paper sack in one hand and a bottle of whiskey tucked under his arm. He looks actually sober at the moment, but his clothing is about per usual — some ratty jeans that look genuine beat to shit, a pair of worn sneakers, a faded t-shirt and his leather jacket.


Lindon is speed-reading some books, turning pages like a flip-book. Lamont has been trying to get him to slow down and enjoy them, but it's an excruciating slog to do that. He's in khaki's and a button-up shirt. No tie, no jacket. He sets the book aside and goes to open the door, then smiles as he sees Cassidy. "Oh! Hey, come in— do I have to invite you in? It doesn't matter, I already have."


"Nope, that's a load of shite," Cassidy says when Lindon invites him in, and yet, he is still polite enough to remain on the doorstep until after the invitation before wandering on in. He holds out the brown paper bag to Lindon and says, "I brought ye some more teas, different sorts than last time." The bottle of whiskey, apparently, is for him. "Jus' wanderin' through an' I thought I'd stop by, see how you were doin'."


Lindon's smile broadens. "Thank you. You're so nice." He takes the teas, looking them over curiously. Then he goes into the kitchen and puts the kettle on. "Make yourself at home," he says. "I'm doing all right. Work is quiet but steady. No evil wizards have risen from obscurity to come dominating me. I call it good."


The teas that he brings today are pressed teas in hard little blocks that look European in nature, though none of them are labeled so it's anyone's guess as to what they are. He strolls on in after Lindon and makes himself at home, finding himself a chair to settle in, and if nearby, a cat to scritch before he cracks open the bottle of whiskey and takes a swig. "Is that a thing for you, eh? Evil wizards trying to dominate you?" Both brows go up a bit. "I mean, on the right sorta night that could be a good time but it doesn't sound like what you're talkin' about is somethin' t'be lookin' forward to."


Lindon sniffs one of the blocks and deems it good, and he pours the kettle into the teapot. Then he puts the other teas away in a cupboard. The darker Balinese kitten Lindon owns has come with him, and he rubs against Cassidy's hand after an introductory sniff. Lindon says, "It happens once in a rare while. I guess I'm just irresistible to them, and no, it's not the happy fun kind of kidnapping."


"Too bad," Cassidy says, "The fun kind is .. well.. fun." He takes another swig of whiskey and continues the idle scritching of the kitthen for as long as he seems inclined to linger. "Have y'ever thought of just not bein' so damn irresistable?" he asks with a flash of a toothy grin. Then he says, "Thanks for that info y'gave me the other day. That was handy stuff. I told John a bit about it."


Lindon smiles wryly. "I have a wizard for that," he admits, and his cheeks color a tinge. He glances over at Cassidy and his smile falters, not for a lack of pleasure, but from minor confusion. "Who, me?" He pours a cup of tea, then comes into the living room. "I don't think of myself as all that irresistible."


"Do ye, now?" Cassidy asks with an amused smile. He picks up the kitten and eyes it as though checking with the cat if that is true, then sets the kitten down with another little scritch before he turns his attention back to Lindon. "Well no, don't imagine that you would. That seems a little narcissistic for you. Y'don't strike me as the type."


The kitten purrs to be picked up, and he play-nips at Cassidy's fingers. Just little nibbles, not even hurting despite having sharp kitten teefs. The kitten leans into the scritch, then topples when Cassidy takes his hand away. Then the kitten races around the floor, playing with loose strands on the rug. Lindon grins as he watches the little animal. Then he ducks his head and steals a glance at Cassidy. "I try to be humble. Humility and grace go hand in hand."


"Sure, sure," Cassidy says amiably enough. "Nothin' wrong with bein' graceful 'n shite, though I can't say as I've ver felt the compulsion." And from the way that he sprawls in the chair, limbs all akimbo, it's unlikely that he's got an ounce of actual natural grace in him at all. He asys, "So when you're not busy bein' alal humble or eaten by Wizards, what've you been doin'? Anything good?"


"Reading," Lindon says. "Cooking. I've been doing a lot of old recipes just to see what they would've tasted like. The ancient Romans sure did love pine nuts." He laughs a little and studies his tea. "I'm not a very exciting person, Cassidy. I'm a homebody. I study and research for my wizard. Just old rituals and lost lore and such."


"Nothin' wrong with that," Cassidy says with a shrug of his shoulders. "Ain't my gig, but somebody's gotta do it, right? World's be fuckin' boring as hell if we all did exactly the same things." He waves about with the whiskey bottle a bit, safely, since the cap is screwed on tight. "An' you never know. Research can be excitin'. Can tell you all kinds of crazy things that lead you off into some god forsaken place to go find some dealy bopper of one sort or another, nearly gettin' killed and havin' a fantastic old time."


Such a juxtaposition between the two of them, Cassidy splayed with his whiskey bottle and Lindon sitting primly with his tea. "My near-death experiences haven't been all that great," he admits. "But they do make me wonder if I shouldn't live more than I do. I've gone to clubs to try the drinks. I don't actually mind it all that often. Sometimes I let my hair down." He smile a little. "Just in private, mostly."


"Yeah?" Cassidy asks with brows raising a little as though he's having a hard time picturing Lindon both letting his hair down and going to clubs to try the drinks. "Which club's your favorite? An' which drink?" Because this, this he is curious about as he eyes Lindon from across the distance between them.


"I've been to Lux," Lindon says, "and they have a lot of unique cocktails there. I've sampled a few. If I have to choose a hard liquor, I'd say I prefer a nicely aged scotch." He meets Cassidy's gaze, grins, and takes a drink of his tea. "I don't drink to excess. It makes my self-control disappear."


"I've heard of it but haven't been there yet," Cassidy says when Lindon mentions Lux, but he seems to make a mental note to go and check it out. "I'm always a fan of findin' another place in which to imbibe." He raises his own bottle though for the moment he doesn't take another drink. Instead, he chuckles and says, "Sometimes that's when things get the most interestin'."


Lindon's cheeks color again. "Oh, well. Yes. That's why I keep my excess indoors. There are just some things a man can't do in public without creating trouble or himself." He holds up a hand and adds, "And I am not a rebel. I just want to get along in the world as quietly as possible."


"Aye, rebels don't usually want t'get along quietly in the world," Cassidy says in sage agreement and then chuckles, "I prefer t'get in trouble. There's nothin' quite as bracin' as being reminded to enjoy bein' alive."


Lindon looks Cassidy over and says, "You're trouble in a leather jacket." He falters, then adds, "Trouble is attractive. I just know that I don't have the je ne sais quoi to pull it off." He laughs and adds, "Do you know, when I was thirteen, I asked my mother for permission to do my teenage rebellion?"


Cassidy seems to take that as a compliment, lifting his bottle in salute to it and taking a swallow before he says, "I'm afraid you're going to likely have t'stick with the whole, sexy librarian vibe that you've got going on. Dark and mysterious eyes and all that nonsense. Put you in a leather jacket and you'd still be all tea and crumpets." He grins then and says, "And if you want to be trouble, don't ever tell anyone that story again." He laughs.


Lindon's cheeks color further, and he laughs a little, holding his teacup like he's not sure what else to do with his hands. "Yeah, it wasn't my best moment." He licks his lips slowly, then looks to Cassidy. "I used to be told I had puppy eyes. Sometimes kicked puppy eyes, but I guess since I learned so much, like I did, it's not like that anymore." When one's the Archive, mystery is a good word for it.


Cassidy's brows knit together and says, "Nah, y've got eyes of a man who knows more than he knows what to do with, who's researched answers t'questions most'll never think t'ask. You've got intelligent eyes. An' were I a smart man, I'd try t'learn everythin' I could that's behind'm. Because you've probably researched at least as much crazy shite as John has if not more, and that fucker's got a head full of trouble."


Lindon's smile soften, and he squares his shoulders a little. "Thank you," he says, regarding Cassidy closely, engaged in him. "Oh yes, John's trouble waiting to happen, and he doesn't wait long, but he did me a good turn once, and for that, I'll always have a soft spot for him. He saved my life."


"Well, he's never saved mine, but he's sure as shite made it interesting enough to warrant hangin' about with him to see what crazy is going to happen next. And since we're takin' a bit of a side trip on this whole search for God quest that Jesse's on, figure it's worth a bit of fun to see what trouble he might stir up," Cassidy says with a shrug of his shoulders, on a lark as a side trip from a search for God of all things.


Lindon laughs and bows his head. "Good luck to Jesse on that," he says. "I couldn't even glimpse upon the aura of one facet of God without nearly bleeding out through my nose from the migraine." He waves a hand. "But good on them for having something to do. It's important to stay busy, you know? Idle hands are the Devil's playground."


Cassidy turns over a hand and looks at one side and then the other and says, "Shite, I should install a slide or somethin' then. Borin' ass playground for his unholiness." He then winks and takes another swig of whiskey. "So you've tried to look on an aura of a facet of God? For real?"


Lindon makes a so-so waggle with one hand. "I wasn't trying to. It just happened. The next thing I knew I was waking up in bed with writing all over the walls, a splitting headache, and Lamont standing at my bedside with a cold cloth." He laughs a little. "Another one of my not-best moments. But it's how we got to know one another."


"Romantic," Cassidy says with an amused little smirk. He takes another swallow from his bottle and then stretches a bit, watching the kitten run around for a bit longer. Then he looks back to Lindon and says, "I jus' sorta ran into Jesse in a bar fight an' then turned up at his church to work on fixin' the ceilin' fans. Tulip, now Tulip pushed me through a glass window." He grins broadly. "And John… hell.. I can't even bloody remember how we ran into John but it were in the middle of trouble, that."


Lindon laughs as he says, "That's exactly how I met John. I don't remember it per se, but it was in the middle of trouble. Big trouble." He shakes his head fondly, and he watches the kitten as the little critter whumps onto his side and pants for breath. That's a lot of playing for such a little feller! "I'm glad I met John," he says. "I'm glad I met you. I need a little of the good trouble in my life. It'll offset all the bad."


Cassidy laughs abit at that and pulls himself up from the couch, "Well, I can't say as it's good trouble, but it'll be trouble, that's for sure." He then begins to move toward the door, "Speakin' of which. I gotta go meet up with John about a thing. But, was good to see you again. Don't be a stranger, now."


Lindon rises to his feet to see Cassidy to the door. "Any time," he says. "You're welcome. Get my number from John, too." He pauses, offering his hand to Cassidy so very awkwardly, and he smiles. "I've never had friends like you guys," he says. "It's kind of exhilarating. Anyway, you take care, okay?"


Cassidy takes the offered hand and gives it a firm shake or two and then he laughs and says, "Can't say as I've ever had a friend like you either, librarian. But you're a good lad, and have good taste in readin'." He gives him a broad smile and then he ambles off, taking another swig from his bottle.


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