Post by Anthym on May 20, 2010 9:59:16 GMT -8
Charlotte gave up on the phone call and resigned herself to another "movie night" spent packing away the leftovers and watching cartoons alone while she got some work done on her laptop and pretending on as many levels as she could afford that she had a normal partner who's absence didn't indicate any need to worry.
She wasn't mad, disappointed with the general situation perhaps, but she wouldn't blame Raz. This was the life she had signed on for when she had chosen to participate; the life of a Kinfolk.
She put away the last of the dishes, not yet dirtied, and the bottle of wine, not yet opened as a small cockroach scuttled across the otherwise pristine kitchen floor unhindered. She registered it's presence only enough for her feet to avoid stepping on it on her way to what any visitor would have ignored as a simple broom closet.
In truth, Charlotte had installed it herself within the first week of moving in, before her clothes had even been fully unpacked (though Raz, in one of the rare moments that she'd been home during the daytime that week had taken care of that while she was taking a nap).
She opened the door which led into the large walk-in closet which had originally belonged only to the adjacent bedroom, brushed aside some clothes on their hangers, and punched in a code on the console behind them. When she re-emerged seconds later, she was wearing a kevlar vest and a leg mounted gun-holster carrying a side-arm packed with armor piercing rounds, a magazine full of hardened wood rounds and another magazine full of silver ones. On her belt, a mag light, a spiritually awakened tazer, a grill lighter, and a travel sized can of hairspray (produced without the use of animal testing). Topping it all off was a black bamboo duster.
Turning the heat down, she planted herself on the couch, a fully charged cell-phone, motorcycle helmet and keys beside her; and prepared to spend the next few hours on her laptop, with Venture Bros. playing on the TV.
She wasn't mad, disappointed with the general situation perhaps, but she wouldn't blame Raz. This was the life she had signed on for when she had chosen to participate; the life of a Kinfolk.
She put away the last of the dishes, not yet dirtied, and the bottle of wine, not yet opened as a small cockroach scuttled across the otherwise pristine kitchen floor unhindered. She registered it's presence only enough for her feet to avoid stepping on it on her way to what any visitor would have ignored as a simple broom closet.
In truth, Charlotte had installed it herself within the first week of moving in, before her clothes had even been fully unpacked (though Raz, in one of the rare moments that she'd been home during the daytime that week had taken care of that while she was taking a nap).
She opened the door which led into the large walk-in closet which had originally belonged only to the adjacent bedroom, brushed aside some clothes on their hangers, and punched in a code on the console behind them. When she re-emerged seconds later, she was wearing a kevlar vest and a leg mounted gun-holster carrying a side-arm packed with armor piercing rounds, a magazine full of hardened wood rounds and another magazine full of silver ones. On her belt, a mag light, a spiritually awakened tazer, a grill lighter, and a travel sized can of hairspray (produced without the use of animal testing). Topping it all off was a black bamboo duster.
Turning the heat down, she planted herself on the couch, a fully charged cell-phone, motorcycle helmet and keys beside her; and prepared to spend the next few hours on her laptop, with Venture Bros. playing on the TV.