Uncontrolled Chaos [Open]

[law_and_order]

Though Jonathan was separated from his home by a great gulf of space and time, it was not in his nature to shirk his duty. And one of his duties, as handed down by the holy Monastery itself, was the accumulation of mystic relics: medicines, electronics, gems, clothing, children's toys, office supplies, beauty products -- any convenience of the modern world, in short, that he could not readily identify or understand.

The problem was that the Teuberg was full of them. And all readily available for the right price!

Early this morning, the door to his room burst open, spilling his newly-collected treasures everywhere. A remote-controlled shark balloon, tubes of lipstick of varying colors, a multitude of semiprecious gems, hand lotions, socks, a horrible sweater with a misshapen turkey knitted onto its front, a small collection of shining metal storage discs, a fishing bait and tackle box filled with jiggly, soft lures imitating various types of alien bugs, packaged food (canned and boxed), and more all flooded out into the hall.

Jonathan followed shortly after, riding the small tide of trinkets to a stop a short distance outside his room. He looked uncharacteristically harried; a battery-powered toy that resembled a small baby fowl protruded from his luxuriant mane of curls. "I... suppose I underestimated the convenience that our local storekeepers afforded us."

Comments

[law_and_order]

Jonathan saw the expression on the stranger's face, and recognized it for what it was: enjoyment found in the misfortunes of another. Even a month or two ago, he would not have recognized it on the faces of his fellows, but his recent experiences had exposed him to much of the ugliness present in the human heart.

Jonathan did not even take satisfaction in the pratfall the stranger took while distracted.

"I apologize for the surprise," he said, politely but with none of his usual warmth. "I will clear the mess away at once." He began shoving his things back into his room quickly and efficiently.

[knowdeathknowglory]

Anzu rolled his eyes and got to his feet, gingerly. After a split second of watching Jonathan clear things away, he sighed, very deeply and began helping him.

"It's just that, darling, you might want to, oh, I don't know," he said, in the meantime. "Hire some storage space? Request bigger living quarters? What is all of this stuff for? Are you starting your own shop?"

[law_and_order]

Jonathan put up a hand to stop the stranger; these relics were his responsibility, and he did not trust this person or their motives. "Please, do not trouble yourself. I may not look it, but I am rather adept at cleaning."

And in fact he was making remarkable headway in his work. He pulled the battery-powered toy from his hair and tossed it back across the threshold to his room.

[knowdeathknowglory]

Anzu obediently dropped the thing he was holding (thankfully, it was made of plastic and did not shatter) and stepped back, hands held up, palms out, in mock surrender.

"No, really," he said, raising an eyebrow at Jonathan, growing more and more puzzled by the man by the second. "You shouldn't store all of that in your room, darling. This will happen again, if you do."

[law_and_order]

"I thank you for your concern," said Jonathan, shoving the last of his things back through the doorway. "But I do not believe we are acquainted, and I would appreciate it if you refrained from addressing me as such. If you'll pardon me, I need to get back to my work."

He shut the door behind him, disappearing back into his room.

[knowdeathknowglory]

Anzu shook his head at the door and clucked his tongue, before he realised Jonathan wouldn't hear his expression of mild disapproval.

Before he left, he took note of where Jonathan's quarters were, precisely. It'd be good to be forewarned. Plus, maybe some day he'd need to know where a taciturn collector of junk lives.