Dealing with Trouble (Samael)

[Samael Mishra III]

It wasn't much longer before Samael had gone through his rows of stones and finally stood, wiping the bit of sweat from his brow with a smile. After that coffee break, he had definitely worked much more productively and, once again, found himself rather liking his detention. He liked detention and classes. Was he a mental masochist? He laughed to himself and walked over to dump out the water away from the graves before going back through to double-check, catching a few places that he missed before and taking care of them, wiping a few smudges away. Such were the eyes of an artist: he had to backtrack and catch his mistakes. The mind got weary after staring at one thing for too long, so fresh eyes were the perfect remedy. once he was satisfied with the work, he made his way back to the cabin again.

[Ichabod]

Ichabod got done about a minute or two after his worker and looking it over, "looks good." He picked up his things and tossed the water into the wooded area behind the cabin. With the throwing of the water he cracked his back and his stomach started to growl, "Food sounds amazing right now." He walked back to the front of the cabin seeing Sam standing there waiting for his next orders.

He handed the bucket and the brushes to the kid, "Put them back and Ill get the light and we can finally eat." He stomach growled again in excitement at the mention of food again. The noise lessened as he walked over to the light, lifting it carefully and putting it back to it original location.

[Samael Mishra III]

Sam was surprised that he had finished before Ichabod. Had be not cleaned them correctly? Perhaps he missed a step. He was about to go back and check them again, but he was given the okay which, honestly, surprised him. Had he really done well or was the other just ready to be done for the night? Then again, he normally did all of this by himself.

Samael nodded after being given his task then went to set them back in their homes. When he returned, he felt the nervousness rise again, even though it was obvious the other was rather happy to get to the eating. If they were going out, then Samael would have to eat small. And if Ichabod had something, he didn't want to eat too much of it. Either way he'd probably not get enough. Was there anything else to fill up on back in his dorm? Probably some pretzels or something hiding in one of the drawers.

[Ichabod]

Ichabod let the kid leave the building, he remembered to turn off the coffee pot and made sure things were straightened up for the next guy that comes in in the morning.

He thought about the locations around town, "Its to late for Subway and Chinese but I know of some Bars that are open and they serve damn good food." He looked down to the boy, "I'm sure you are fine with bars, right?"

[Samael Mishra III]

At the mention of a bar, Samael's first thought was that he'd definitely be able to down a few shots and a handful more drinks, but then he quickly remembered that this outage was about the food, not the beverages. He nodded lightly. "Bars are fine with me." He'd hit up all of them in town enough that he was certain everyone knew him by name, and if not, then the regulars that frequented there definitely did. He enjoyed sitting around and talking to the interesting ones and dancing with the attractive ones. Sometimes they fit into both categories... but now his mind was wandering.

[Ichabod]

He nodded as he finally locked up and tucked the key into his pocket. "Well, if it were just me I would run there but I guess we would have to take the car." He had always hated using his vehicle, it was so useless for him but it comes in handy to convince people that he was human. "I'll be right back."

Ichabod walked away leaving Sam to himself for a few minutes, he walked 2 blocks away to a partially emptied parking lot. He clicked his key-fob and heard the chirp of his alarm. The lights of the Yellow Mustang Shelby GT500 flashed out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't use it very often so he tends to misplace it more often than not.

He unlocked the door, sat down, started up the engine with a quick flick of the wrist. The seat belt rubbed roughly against his growing beard as he pulled it across him, the lights flashed on as he slipped it into drive. He made his way to the road and accelerated more than needed to leave the drive way, leaving a slight smell of rubber in the air. The sport car ran smooth like it just came off the lot. He turned into the graveyard pulling up in front of Samael.

[Samael Mishra III]

Samael obediently waited, leaning up against the cabin while Ichabod went to get his vehicle. He pulled out his smartphone and brought up the Internet quickly to check his bank statement, and, sure enough, there was probably just enough money for him to actually enjoy himself tonight. He'd have to cut back on the booze for the week, but... well, it was a good enough reason, right? He enjoyed hanging out with his friends, so he would make sacrifices for them.

Friends, huh? Could he even consider Mr. Ichabod a friend right now? He was more like a very laid-back teacher that had him as an only student. That would make sense, right? He supposed that, for now, that's how he would view their relationship unless otherwise stated.

That's when a yellow sports car came into view and drove up to stop in front of him. Who on earth would be here at this hour? Maybe someone who wanted to visit a grave?

Wait, Mr. Ichabod?

Samael was a bit taken aback, but after the initial shock, he finally rounded over to the passenger side and opened the door, sliding into the seat. "Ah... sweet ride, Mr. Ichabod. I wouldn't have expected you to drive something like this."

[Ichabod]

Ichabod laughed a bit as the kid got into the seat, "Yeah, the dealer said it fit me completely. I just needed something to get around in emergencies, groceries and the like." He popped the car into reverse and released the break slowly as he backed out into the road. With it being so late he was aware of the mostly barren streets. He pulled out into traffic and readied himself for the drive.

They drove about 16 miles out, the tires kicked up small rocks as they his the dirt road pulling into the parking lot of the rough looking bar and grille. "Here we are, be careful of the bikes when opening the door." He pointed to the row of motorcycles that were lined just outside the passenger side door.

He got himself out of his car and stretched, "It is so cramped in there for someone as tall as me." Ichabod closed the door and walked over to the front door of the establishment. He waited for the kid to get closer as he opened the door to release the yells and screams of the happy bikers and customers. He walked in and shouted so loud over everyone else that most looked towards him and yelling in turn with large smiles on his face. They offered drinks and cigars to him, which he took willingly as he got to the bar.