(( la foule ))

[downplaying]

You've reached Claude Bérubé.

I'm currently not available.
Please leave a message
and I'll call you back as soon as possible.

If you're contacting me
regarding any kind of journalistic work,
you can also reach me via email:
claudeberube at freepress dot com.

Thank you.




[This is the post for IC contact with Claude.
Text, audio and action - everything goes.]

Comments

action

[justcrywolf]

[He takes the glass, icy and cold between his fingers. Sips the water wordlessly, feeling quite clearly everything that they aren't saying right now, all that natural interaction that keeps getting lost in translation. He's getting more and more certain about it now - there's nothing he can do. Perhaps apart from keeping his distance.]

You know. [He gives Claude a very slight, very quiet type of smile. There's a sense of clarity now and it's a pleasant change from the past days (weeks) of running about with nothing but confusion.] There's something called the recreation center here. A bit like camping, I guess, a fucking parody probably. [Another sip. He looks away.] Think I might go there next week. Take some time alone.

action

[downplaying]

[Claude's in the middle of a sip when Vincent begins speaking. The words, however, make him pause mid-motion, eyes darting to the side and seeking out Vincent's face, the other man's gaze averted. His stance in itself is just so unlike his usual self that it's painful to watch and Claude slowly (calmly, carefully) returns all his attention to his beer. Finishes his mouthful before speaking.]

It's up to you, of course. Who knows, it might prove healthy.

[For him. For them. Claude doesn't specify. There's no need. Vincent will undoubtedly catch every implication present in that open-ended comment.]

action

[justcrywolf]

[It's not an empty answer, not by far - naturally. It's Claude, he doesn't do empty dialogue, at least not around Vincent. Probably not in general. There's a reason why they... well. Fuck that. Fuck everything. He takes another sip, glancing sideways at Claude. He's always been the first to leave and this time, no matter how or what Claude had planned when accepting Eli's offer, Vincent feels like he's right back to square one. Don't let the door hit you on your way out, right? Right.]

Yeah.

[He doesn't know what else to say. Once again, it just doesn't matter.]

action

[downplaying]

[And they return to silence. Because their words have been exhausted at this point and there's just nothing more to say. They could pick up on another subject about New Dodge, pick apart another aspect of the setting, but the point -- Usually, the two of them talk to be intimate without the physicality of fucking. Right now, there's no intimacy left. Only this.

So he takes another swing of his beer and stares at nothing in particular. In the full Saloon, there's enough to turn his attention to, if he really doesn't want to turn it to Vincent. And he really doesn't. Nice, clean shirt or not.]