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Who: Brian Slade, Baby, OPEN.
Where: The laundry rooom, where it all goes down, and round and round.
When: After Pollux has gone :(
What: He's sitting alone, staring at his jacket, and then the machine. This.. seemed self-explanitory.
Warnings: Excessive emo? No, idk. Nada.

Brian had been sadly disillusioned to think someone in his life might actually be sticking around for a while. Maybe he should have married Pollux, not that it had done Brian and Mandy any good.

And now there was oatmeal all over his jacket. He sighed, pulling it off as he entered the laundry room. It was quiet, dark. Kind of creepy. He wasn't a fan. And, belatedly, he realized, he wasn't versed in the ways of these machines.

He had always had his laundry done for him. Brian dropped his jacket from his defeatist grip, sliding to the floor to accompany the lonely article.

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Baby had been neglecting her sorry looking clothes, as usual, and decided that today was a fine fuckin' day to take the piles to the machines and see to it that they got cleaned. Not that it always helped, between the tears and permanent blood stains, but she didn't own a lot of underwear.

Humming some Blue Oyster Cult, the blond skipped her way to the laundry room, clutching her clothes to keep from losing any. But the song was abruptly cut off when she caught sight of Brian on the floor. She started at him a good long while before she even bothered to ask about his well being. Setting her clothes down and starting a machine, she asked, "The fuck's wrong with you?"

It was about the nicest way she was likely to ask anyone.

Brian started when she first came in, but still didn't register her presence until Baby actually addressed him. In a quiet, lame voice, he answered her, reluctantly looking up, "I've never done laundry before."

She hesitated with one shirt in mid-air, but then she laughed, that trademark Baby cackle. "That's why you're on the goddamn floor? Because of a fucking machine. Tck, shit, Brian...I'll help you, for fuck's sake, get up here."

Baby shook her head with a dying chuckle, amused to no end.

His smile was soft, and didn't reach his eyes, and it was gone in an instant besides. Slowly, as if it were a great task, he rose to his feet; the more he grew accustomed to being the punchline of people's jokes, the more he grew to detest it.

"Most people's mothers show them this, I would think."

She scoffed at that, checking her hip into his. "Mama taught us a lot of things, but ain't none of 'em the things most mamas teach their brats."

And she was damn proud of Mama Firefly for it.

"Mind you, these machines are all fuckin' new and shit, have way more dials than the ones I'm used to, but it's all about the same. You should pour the soap in before your put the clothes in, I don't fuckin' know why, just what I do. You have to pick a load size here, [points] and how long you want the damn thing to run here, [points again.]"

And she explained how to measure the detergent, what colors you washed with what and on what temperature of water.

"Got that, cupcake?"

"Er, I think so." He blinked owlishly at it a minute longer, pouring some soap in and then his jacket. Brian fiddled with a few dials, turning them back and forth before settling and turning it on with the raise of his eyebrows. "It's probably ruined anyhow," he murmured, turning to lean back against the washer, and not entirely sure he was only talking about the jacket.

Edited 2010-04-02 06:51 (UTC)

Baby hovered over him to ensure he did it correctly. She'd have to tell Rayne about her good deed later. Amusing good deed at that.

She raised one brow and eyed the jacket with skepticism before closing the lid. "What's wrong with it?"

"Oatmeal," he responds vaguely, waving a hand. "It's alright, I have another like it."

Baby turned to look at him increduously, one hand flying to her hip. "Oatme-... are you fucking serious, Brian? Unless it had goddamn chocolate, you should be just fine."

She hopped up on her washing machine, muttering 'shit' under her breath. "Ya know, you seem way too fucking mopey for a jacket. Who kicked your puppy and why?" Her tone lightened, sounding something close to concerned.

Louis had been passing idle time in his room alone. Claudia's heart beat like that of a child and it was unbearable to be around, despite her obvious joy. It was a danger for him to be around her so he strayed away. There were some, interesting stains on some of his clothes that would not be beaten or washed out. He had asked his neighbours what he should do and they suggested the laundromat, one of the few rooms he had not yet visited. Louis did not perspire and thus the cleaning of his many clothes was rarely required.

Upon visiting the room he found an acquaintence there, and his stomach flipped at the memory.

"Brian."

He looked up, frowning at the vampire as he entered the room. He wasn't in any of his usual splendor, he noted.

"You never told me your name," Brian said, his tone uncharacteristically flat as his eyes moved back to the floor.

Louis held the stained jacket between crossed arms, walking over to one of the mechanical washers but watching Brian intently.

"Do you with to learn it?" He tried acting coy to break Brian's mood.

"If you wish to share it," he quipped immediately, without looking up.

"And what would you do with it, if I were to tell you?" He leant his backside against the washer, his headtilting low to try and catch an eye.

"I suppose I would commit it to memory." He did look up then, with a sigh. "If it deserved such a high opinion."

"Now that, sir. Is entirely up to you." His voice was soft as per usual. Louis spoke with that clear french twist to the tail of the word, "Louis. That is my name."

"Enchanté," he managed, his voice still dim and far from his usual candor. He had to wonder a moment, if vampires could feel. He had never much bothered with myths, having been one himself.

Louis could feel his eyes narrowing, the expression on his face showing concern. Was this the same boy he had conversed with before? He seemed far from it.

"You are not yourself." He stated ponderously,"Or perhaps this is the way you always are, and that other man I met was only an illusion."

So vampires could feel, he thought with a bit of a smirk, though his words reminded him of Curt.

"What is a man, but an illusion of himself?" he asked softly, holding out a hand for Louis to help him up.

When he is a vampire, he mused to himself. He took that hand, Louis' grip not meaning to be forceful but the hardness of his skin or the strength of his limbs could not be denied.

"Do you know much of deception, Brian?"

"I do," he said simply, without letting go of Louis' hand.

"To the point where you know when one is decieving you?" His eyebrows raised and there was even a hint of smile to his lips. This interaction was proving to be an adequate distraction to everything else to what was occuring on ship.

"Sometimes.. why, are you deceiving me, Louis?" He fiddled with the man's collar idly, a matching ghostly smile on his own lips.

"I would be a poor vampire if I were not." Louis allowed Brian's fingers on his collar, but he was not quite accustomed to his forwardness. He actually reminded him much of Lestat. Louis moved a hand to rest on Brian's arm, his eyes concerning. "Why were you on the floor?"

"Oh, good," he replied lightly, tracing Louis' collarbone through his shirt. "I was just waiting for my wash cycle."

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TYPO FML

lu forever bb

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