Godot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beenwaitinglong) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenace2014-06-26 02:22 pm
beenwaitinglong) wrote in maskormenace2014-06-26 02:22 pm
Entry tags:
- ruka | n/a,
- † armin arlert | n/a,
- † diego armando | godot,
- † edward nygma | the riddler,
- † eiko magami | n/a,
- † hans | prince of the southern isles,
- † isaac clarke | n/a,
- † kay faraday | great thief yatagarasu,
- † kotetsu t. kaburagi | wild tiger,
- † light yagami | n/a,
- † lucifer | n/a,
- † mako mankanshoku | n/a,
- † matt murdock | daredevil,
- † mia fey | n/a,
- † miles edgeworth | n/a,
- † roy mustang | the flame alchemist,
- † will graham | wolf trap,
- † yuri petrov | lunatic
Blend #4 - Video
[Godot sits on the sofa in the living room of his new apartment. The room is bare except for a few small boxes, and a coffee table in front of him on which the communicator is resting. Something like 12 white coffee cups are scattered around the table's surface.]
Indulge me in a parable, my Imported amigos.
[You don't really get a choice, it seems, as he is all ready to go. It's time for Morality, Philosophy and Coffee Talk with Godot.]
There once was a doctor who lived in a small, peaceful town. He was very successful, and often called to other nearby villages to care for the people there.
The doctor returned from a long journey one day to find the door to his home left open. When he went inside, to his horror, he found his family, dead, all the victims of murder. He caught a glimpse of a man fleeing through the back window with a bag of valuables. The doctor gave chase, but could the man escaped into the woods. There were no other witnesses, and the doctor was left alone with nothing but his grief.
[He pauses for a slow, savored sip of the coffee in his mug. For a moment, it almost seems he's forgotten about the story, so concerned is he with the coffee. Just when it starts to become an awkward silence, he continues.]
The doctor left his home to continue his traveling practice, haunted by what had happened to his family. Years passed, and he finally felt able to move on with his life.
One day, he was working the back lines of a battlefield. The camp was small, and he was the only doctor working. A cry came out from one of the nurses, and the doctor rushed to help. A patient needed surgery, quickly, in order to live.
But when the doctor saw the face of the man lying unconscious in the bed, he recognized him. It was the same man he had seen fleeing from his home the day his family had died. Here, a man who had made a vow to save lives held in his hands the life of a man who may have committed the ultimate personal wrong against him.
His oath and his livelihood bind him to save this man. However, he could also do nothing-- or alternatively, twist the scalpel in his hands a little too far to the left or right, press a little too hard, and watch him die.
[Godot gives this part a long, dramatic pause as he finishes off the last of his mug.]
That's the end of the story. But the answer depends on the listener.
So tell me. Does the doctor save his life, or not?
Indulge me in a parable, my Imported amigos.
[You don't really get a choice, it seems, as he is all ready to go. It's time for Morality, Philosophy and Coffee Talk with Godot.]
There once was a doctor who lived in a small, peaceful town. He was very successful, and often called to other nearby villages to care for the people there.
The doctor returned from a long journey one day to find the door to his home left open. When he went inside, to his horror, he found his family, dead, all the victims of murder. He caught a glimpse of a man fleeing through the back window with a bag of valuables. The doctor gave chase, but could the man escaped into the woods. There were no other witnesses, and the doctor was left alone with nothing but his grief.
[He pauses for a slow, savored sip of the coffee in his mug. For a moment, it almost seems he's forgotten about the story, so concerned is he with the coffee. Just when it starts to become an awkward silence, he continues.]
The doctor left his home to continue his traveling practice, haunted by what had happened to his family. Years passed, and he finally felt able to move on with his life.
One day, he was working the back lines of a battlefield. The camp was small, and he was the only doctor working. A cry came out from one of the nurses, and the doctor rushed to help. A patient needed surgery, quickly, in order to live.
But when the doctor saw the face of the man lying unconscious in the bed, he recognized him. It was the same man he had seen fleeing from his home the day his family had died. Here, a man who had made a vow to save lives held in his hands the life of a man who may have committed the ultimate personal wrong against him.
His oath and his livelihood bind him to save this man. However, he could also do nothing-- or alternatively, twist the scalpel in his hands a little too far to the left or right, press a little too hard, and watch him die.
[Godot gives this part a long, dramatic pause as he finishes off the last of his mug.]
That's the end of the story. But the answer depends on the listener.
So tell me. Does the doctor save his life, or not?
no subject
Wait wait.
Is that—is this—a kindred-ish spirit? Oh no, oh yes, oh good.]
Doesn't have to be a winter night to get in tune with coffee that's not crap, does it? You got some extra you wouldn't mind sending my way, might be able to realize coffee's more than just a stimulant to keep people awake. May still have time to save one guy's take on coffee. If you don't think that's a crazy idea.
[Look what you did, Godot.]
no subject
Amigo, I have 107 personal blends I made myself.
You describe to me your favorite dishwater bilge cup of coffee, and I'll give you something of a religious epiphany in a cup.
no subject
Well, they're cheap. The cheapest you can get that's not generic store brand. Folgers or Maxwell House, I guess, if we're going by brands. Once I started buying my own. Before that, I have no idea. [Broke guys working in boat yards did not care. His dad probably caught him drinking it at an early age and thought good, his son wouldn't be griping for expensive fine stuff down the road because he was used to garbage.] Black as it gets. Crude oil in a cup. Never really used cream or sugar or anything until recently. They're okay sometimes.
[A guy like Will does not wake up a gourmet chef early in the morning, have coffee made a particular way, and pipe up to say that he'd rather not have that much sugar. There's rude, and there's that level of rude. Couldn't bring himself to do it. Will's coffee taste is literally "throw it on a wall enough, the paint comes off, who cares what it does to my insides? NOT ME." Or, shorter and perhaps just as accurate: "I like shitty coffee because it's all I know and change is scary."]
no subject
Yes, really.]
Do you own a drip percolator? Most people have at least that.
no subject
I don't know. I just use whatever's in the housing they provide us with. And repair mugs, if they drop. That's about all I know.
[There is a pot and grinds go in one thingie and then the water goes through it and it's hot and then there's coffee.
Science.]
no subject
All right. I'll give you a small sampling of a few different varieties in exchange for the solemn promise that you'll follow the directions I give you to the letter.
They're not unreasonable. Simply times and measurements.
no subject
Then you've got my solemn promise. [As if Will does much that's not solemn in the first place. He's even got nearly sacred rituals for bringing a new dog into the family.] Even if your penmanship's chicken scratch, I can follow it to the letter.
[Teaching prepares him for so many things, honestly.]
no subject
But I warn you, it's going to ruin your bilgewater coffee forever. Fortunately, as I said, it's not difficult to continue the habit.
no subject
You could send it to house 8 or my bait shop, whichever's easiest. Unless you want me to stop by and pick it up myself.
[Meeting somebody for the first time when he's got a room full of maggots in the back.
There's nothing awkward there.]
no subject
[No worries. He's used to meeting people for the first time who are under suspicion of murder or something like that.]
no subject
That's not so far, no. I'd ask if you had a coffee place in mind, but it's probably hard for a connoisseur like you to find a good one. Is it?
[At least Will could fix a cup if Godot threw it in outrage.]
no subject
[No. Really.]
There are a few good ones nearby the office.
no subject
Just Heropa? There's a couple outside it that make good coffee. Or so I hear. My idea of good coffee clearly isn't good. You been outside it, expanded your horizons on the coffee places around here?
[It is
diner coffee.
Slightly expensive shit that boaters enjoy.
This might be a bit of a trap, but he's just curious.]