falkeditupagain | TLV IC Inbox

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[It seems someone has decided to change his voicemail following graduation. Hes trying so hard to sound professional, business like, but Hanna's usual enthusiasm bleeds through easily.]

You have reached the mailbox of Hanna Cross. If you don't have an appointment, my secretary will follow up with a return message shortly. [a short pause.] meaning me. I'll get back to you, don't worry.

And if this is an emergency what are you doing on the phone? Cardio is your friend. byyyye!

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You said it was unlocked!

[Blitzø kicks the door shut because he's so thoughtful like that, then he's clambering up on Hanna bed with his goodie basket in tow.]

You good?

I didn't expect you to be right there, I guess.

[He rolls over onto his stomach and makes a little sound when Blitz climbs up on his bed. His room looks a lot better than it did last time, and he actually has a bedframe now at least. Kinda nice if you didn't count the peeling plaster or the single light bulb.]

Uh, I mean, as good as I can be? Not fucking sick any more, thankfully.

How about you?

'nother day, 'nother round of the Admiral fucking with us all. Who's surprised?

[Blitzø shrugs and opens the basket to pull out a flask that steams with the smell of hot chocolate once he opens it. He passes it to Hanna and then pulls out a box of brownies.]

No one's giving you shit over it, are they?

[Hanna makes a face.]

Uh, while I think there were some pretty sketch loop holes involved, the Admiral isn't really the thing you should be pointing your finger at.

[Hot chocolate in a flask is fucking adorable though, and Hanna takes it, wondering if it's been spiked or not, hard to tell.]

Uh, I mean, yes? Rightfully so? You can't say you weren't mad at me for at least a little bit... Are you okay, by the way?

Nah, I'm pretty sure if that fucker can lock down every kind of magic in this place and bring people back from the dead and make changes to the worlds people come from, he could have stopped that bullshit if he wanted.

[The drink isn't spiked, as evidenced by Blitzø pulling out a bottle of whiskey and waggling it at Hanna while wiggling his eyebrows.]

Fucker knew and let it happen. His fault.

Like most depictions of god, we're given free will. I think he didn't because no one requested it, and that's the bottom line. At least he follows some rules. No interference unless asked. Or something like that.

[Hanna blows on the hot chocolate flask, unsure how much good that does, but gets a good sip of it anyways.]

By the way, Trevor's your warden, right? You think you could do a favor for me?

Except for all the interference that happens without being asked about. Like people having magic taken away when they get here. You don't think he could have just as easily blocked that if he didn't want it to happen?

[He's certain the Admiral allowed it, so there's no point in his mind getting mad at Hanna over it. He sets the whiskey down near Hanna if the guy changes his mind and pulls out... some pieces of cheese and a bottle of hot sauce.]

What kind of favour? Cause I'm not gonna try killing him for you or anything.

[God, he really doesn't want to argue about this right now. Either he's arguing it's his fault, or it's his fault but he didn't mean to. Neither of them changed what happened.]

Well obviously we're going to get nowhere beating our hands against this stone wall.

[He tilts the hot chocolate back for another swig, though it doesn't quite make it down as he chokes on it, inhaling some and oh god, is it in his nose? He's not sure, but hot liquid burns.]

J-jesus, no! God. I just- eww. [Definitely in his nose as he coughs a few times, wiping his nose with his sleeve.] He let me borrow his lightsaber, and I need to give it back, but I don't think he's happy with me right now, so...You think you could give it back to him for me?

What? What the fuck else was I going to-- Oh I get it. He's hot as fuck but he's married and believe me I've tried...

[Oh. It's not that either. He blinks as Hanna manages to get out what he actually meant.]

Pretty sure he won't give a fuck or if he is mad, he'd like it better if you did it yourself. He's all about fucking saying 'sorry' and shit.

[Between the hot brown liquid leaking out of his nose, the burn in his sinuses and what Blitz is saying, Hanna wordlessly takes another long drink of the hot chocolate and then promptly refills half the flask with whiskey.]

I did apologize, but he just got quiet, and said he was tired. I feel like I disappointed my dad and he's been gone forever. It sucks.

And between him and the fact that the last time I talked to John, I said he could tell me straight when I was in the wrong, I don't know if I can handle a competent vampire hunter and a fucking god both being disappointed in me at the same time. [Not to mention Shaw, Sheehan, whoever else. You gotta care to be disappointed, even he knows that and the list is longer than he ever thought it would be.]

That shit's heavier than the rest of it. Well, aside from the fact that a shit ton of people died, and everything else.

[Well shit, looks like they're being serious about this and he'd been trying to keep it light or something.

Blitzø sighs and tucks the snacks away, instead fishing out the 'things got sad or serious' emergency bottle of Everclear that he opens and just takes a few gulps from directly.]

Listen, I get it. I've fucked shit up before in ways that you can't just come back from. But no one was like permanently dead from it, and I still think you're not giving Admiral fuckass enough credit for letting it happen.

But if you want, I'll take the sword for you.

[Hanna caps the flask and gives it a good shake, mixing that all up so that he wasn't getting just a straight shot of whiskey and takes a long pull from it.]

Well, it's not like he's going to be fucking accountable for it, is he? So I gotta be. Someone has to be able to point a finger or else they just suffered for no fucking reason, and that sucks for everyone. It's...Better like this. I don't give a fuck if people don't like me, it's not exactly new. And I'll make sure I don't fucking do it again, and what ever else I can to at least prove I'm actually sorry. [He does actually give a fuck, lots of them, but he's good at pretending it's fine. It's just more the usual.]

Thanks. I'll talk to him sometime...Just gotta make sure I'm ready for it.

Yeah, hate to break it to you shorty, but life's full of people suffering for no fucking reason and no one gives a shit. It's basically how things work. People get fucked over and suffer and whoever benefits from it won't give a shit and you can be a bleeding heart bitch all you like but it won't change dick.

[He takes a loooong swig of his own bottle before pointing it at Hanna.]

And if you don't give a fuck if people like you, why are you trying to make it up to them in the first place?

[Oh, he knows that one good Blitz. Doesn't need to be reminded of it. His bleeding heart comes from a place of 'it happened to me and I'll die before it happens to someone else.' Not like he ever mentions that part.]

Yeah, well I do. I give a shit. And I try and keep it from happening back home. It might not be my full time gig, because I need to eat and pay rent, but I sure as hell don't refuse cases.

[He is a little surprised at the next question though, raising a brow at him as he takes another pull from the flask.]

People don't have to like me for me to care about them... I mean, most people don't back home and I still help them.

And that's why you live in a shithole like this, I'm guessing. Start charging more for shit, dumbass.

[Because his place is definitely better don't think about checking, Hanna, and he's 100% responsible with money and contracts all the time.

Blitzø takes another drink to hide as much as he can how Hanna's words hit home for him as well. He believes that people don't and shouldn't care about him either, especially back in Hell, but that doesn't stop him from trying to do what he can for those he cares about in turn. But he does have to acknowledge that maybe it's a little different here. MAYBE.]

Yeah well. Seems like there's plenty of idiots here who care about people they shouldn't. So maybe it's the same for you and they like you more than you know.

Hey, I've lived here for like eight years, it's not exactly easy to pay rent solo and we're kind of in a recession. I really don't like Mrs. Blaney, but she didn't bat an eye about renting to a minor when I first signed the lease and fixed the price for the first few years so it was easier to stay than try to find anything else. [He says like he can afford anything else, which he definitely can't.

Shifting off his bed with boozy hot chocolate still in hand, he starts looking for a movie to put on in the background.] Yeah? Are you one of them, cause I wasn't expecting the demon cheer up squad. Not that I'm complaining... Uh, you ever seen Heathers by the way? It's got young Winona Ryder, which I will say she is a gift to any movie she stars in.

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