hngrylikethewoolf

[hngrylikethewoolf]

@perry-flynn

Errol hums at the answer, at the shrug, but doesn't respond. Not verbally, anyway. There's no reason to, despite understanding the sentiment. The man was how he was, and Errol respected that, even if he wasn't correct about, well, some of the things he was saying.

But that was for Errol alone to think, and he was alright with that.

He watches, instead, as Perry comes closer and takes a cigarette from the pack, the lid closing and the pack tucked away as he watches Perry find a lighter and strike up a flame. Then, comically, Perry pushes the window open wider.

"Aye, I'd say so," he mumbles around the cigarette. "Go an' pop back tae yer office. I can leave, or open th' place up if ye wan'."

worse for wear || perol

[hngrylikethewoolf]

@perry-flynn

A bland, though amused, look crosses over Errol's face at Perry's rather blasé statement. As he'd come to know the man, Errol had realized that Perry didn't pry, and he didn't ask questions to things that did not bother nor pertain to him.

He was...odd like that, Errol supposes, though it's honestly refreshing to see. Far too many people had stared when he'd left the military, at his ear and his head, and he was glad that it'd grown out enough now where people did neither these days, not unless they knew where to look.

When Perry goes off to poke around again, Errol doesn't stop him. In fact, he settles himself better against the back of the couch, hanging his head back over the edge to see if popping the tension out would help.

It doesn't.

"Mmm not yet, but I was still diggin', least 'til this headache knocked me on me arse."

Blinding Ideas | Perry & Errol

[hngrylikethewoolf]

@notbad-justsungthatway

The raised brow makes him furrow his own, but he doesn't fight argue. She's...slightly correct, but he wasn't going go give her the satisfaction of being right.

"Mmmhm, an' 's already such a tall list," he says voice teasing as he takes another drink, continuing the conversation in another direction.

He was glad they'd done this, glad that his shoulders felt lighter now, with the weight of his secret less prevalent know that she knew.

Dinner Dates || Jess & Errol

[hngrylikethewoolf]

@perry-flynn

Amother quiet snort escapes, a brow jumping toward the curls at his hairline. His nose twitches, the scent of a few days' old cigarettes clinging in a last ditch effort to the windowsill, and Errol leans back agaisnt it, a shoulder propped against the sill, legs crossing at the ankles.

"Trust me, ye get used t' 'em. Dunnae even notice 'em much, these days, an' yeah woulda when I was younger." Fishing around in a pocket, breaking the eye contact after a second, Errol takes both a spare match book and a clover cigarette from the pack he fishes out, tamping one out and popping it between his teeth.

He gestures with the pack toward the other man, the other brow bridging the gap toward its sister, a peace offering off sorts for his earlier antics.

Besides, they smelled better than the solely-nicotine rolled ones Perry had logged permanently in his jeans, desk, or jacket pocket.

"Fine. Ye don't gotta be nice. I'll be nice enough fer us both. Now get offa yer arse an' come have a smoke before ye rot over th' fuckin' paperwork again. 'S too late - early, whatever - tah start 'at shite anyhow."

worse for wear || perol

[hngrylikethewoolf]

@notbad-justsungthatway

"Oi! I take offense tah t' implication I'd join 'im."

Was she wrong? No, not necessarily. Would he attempt to make sure the lad stayed out of trouble? Yes, of course. But if he couldn't, well, Errol would rather be there so Hiro doesn't get seriously hurt.

Shifting, Errol folds his arms over his chest and raises a brow back at her. "Like I said - Perry's place, Perry's rules. I'll be a good boy, Jess."

Dinner Dates || Jess & Errol

[hngrylikethewoolf]

@perry-flynn

"I'll make sure tah be 'round fer morale an' dramatic mutterin'," Errol shoots back, meandering back toward the desks, hand grabbing for his mug and pressing a finger casually into Perry's shoulder as he tips back, seeing how much further he'd keep going, before Errol steps out of the way as he keeps walking.

A wide, mischievous grin curls the edges of his eyes, most of it hidden by his mug as he stops by a window, leaning his shoulder against the wall to look outside.

It wasn't light out yet, but it would be soon. He really didn't want to head back to the flat, and the girls would have been broken already by the neighbor lass, who very kindly agreed to do it while he was out.

None of his more important things had been left out, after all, so it was fine.

"Yer middle aged or whatever t' fuck 's called. Ain't grey." Errol glances back and drops his gaze to him, nodding a bit, amending his statement. "Well. Much grey. But sure. I'll keep meself tah bein' t' nice one, jus' fer ye."

worse for wear || perol

[hngrylikethewoolf]

@perry-flynn

The sigh makes Errol snort, a soft, barely-there breath of air huffed through his nose, before the corner of his mouth turns up. "Jus' lemme know if ye want any 'elp."

He wasn't too terribly bad with these things, even if he didn't look to be able to do something or another.

"Ye ain't old," Errol mumbles, shaking his head. "An' neither are yer eyes." He was ganglion and tall and sharp-edged and different in places Errol himself was not, but he wasn't old, nor was he particularly ugly - the next thing to come out of his mouth if he's not careful.

worse for wear || perol

[hngrylikethewoolf]

@perry-flynn

Errol can see the frown from the corner of his eye, but he nods approvingly - albeit very, very carefully - when Perry toes off his shoes and sets them beside the sofa. At most they'd get sniffed, but the girls would leave them be.

The other man disappears into the depths of the flat, and Errol hears him rummage in the kitchen before he comes back with pills and a water glass, which he sets beside the couch.

He leans over, carefully, and snags them, popping them dry before washing them down.

A huff of laughter escapes and Errol turns, temples throbbing. Tilting his head to the side, Errol lifts the hair near the ear that has the chunk missing, showing the ugly scar that cut through the side of his hair. "'S damage from when I got shot, Perry. I was in a coma fer a few months after. Get 'em occasionally. I can manage it most o' th' time."

Blinding Ideas | Perry & Errol

[hngrylikethewoolf]

@perry-flynn

Listen - he didnt rely on the girls for his safety measures. Not usually. But this had been a rather dire situation, and one that he hadn't had the misfortune of experiencing this severely since before he was turned.

Still, he could hear Perry moving away to find the keys. He can hear the faint jangling as he walks, the lock as it clicks in the door, the shoes against the wood as he comes back. "I can literally 'ear yer 'eartbeat, Perry," he mumbles, "'take off yer shoes if ye wanna stay. 'S quieter."

Adjusting himself, Errol uncovers his head and runs a careful hand through his hair to sweep the curls back, eyes squinting even in the dim light. "'Ve got a migraine. Had it fer two fuckin' days. Me own fault, 'cause I was doin' too much. Ain't had one this bad since before I was turned."

And needless to say, it was rough.

"Stuff fer Eilonwy 's one t' table, whenever ye wanna go get it. Meds, too, if yer bein' nice."

Blinding Ideas | Perry & Errol

[hngrylikethewoolf]

@notbad-justsungthatway

When Jess smiles, Errol grins back, ever so slightly. He likes when his friend is glad, happier when she looks it. Though she was rightfully wary of his profession, Errol was glad he'd earned her trust enough to get to see parts of the real Jessica, like this.

He snorts a second later, covering it with a cough and then drinking from his glass.

"Oh aye, real sweetheart, 'at one. Puts up wif me well enough. An' he knows. Well. Too, now I s'pose." Errol cuts his eyes over to the woman, gauging her reaction, before smirking over at her. "But yer right. Needs all t' help he can get. Damn place ain't jus' a lil' fing anymore, an' while Hiro's a good lad. Dunna act th' maggot, which 's helpful."

Then he realizes what he's said and huffs, reorienting himself in his seat, glass loose between his fingers.

"Means he dunna act like a idiot, sorry Jessie. 'S jus'...Perry's place, eh? Perry's rules, 'ow it goes."

Dinner Dates || Jess & Errol

[hngrylikethewoolf]

@perry-flynn

Errol had been working to get more information out for the case Perry had given him information for. That's what had caused this. He should have known better, really. He knew his limits, but he pushed them and prodded them, and it meant he'd suffer for it.

Since his official retirement, Errol hadn't quite known what to do with himself, so he throws himself into information, racking up leads, data, anything he could find. He was good at what he did, after all, and it meant maybe that they could give Eilwony the closure she wanted.

Still, the poundingpoundingpounding behind his eyes was incessant, and it had grown to such a degree that he couldn't look at anything, could have the lights on.

He was curled up beneath a mound of blankets, flashes of color igniting behind his eyes. Every time he moved, breathed, thought - it was too loud.

Someone knocks and it's nearly deafening. Errol groans quietly, shifting beneath the blankets, but doesn't say anything, call out. He knows the door is unlocked, but Delilah and Dublin are in the house; he'd be fine. He hears their claws quietly clicking on the floor as they seek out who it is that's come into their home, quiet, careful.

But, it's just Perry. They know him, they trust him, and they quickly come back to the couch, Delilah jumping up to lay across his legs and Dublin at the foot.

"Fuckin' christ, Perry, please don't talk so loud." His stmach rolls as he speaks, and Errol clamps his mouth ahut for a momwnt untol the nausea passes. "On t' counter, a dish. Was fine, th' girls're here."

Blinding Ideas | Perry & Errol

[hngrylikethewoolf]

December 4th: Errol + Dark Academia/Ship: Perol

@hngrylikethewoolf @perry-flynn

[hngrylikethewoolf]

@perry-flynn

Errol continues pacing, even while he half-turns and listens to the other man's muttering. He can hear it, even when it isn't directed at him.

The face he's pulls when he talks about taxes and paperwork, office supplies and running books, makes the older man laugh. It's quiet, more a chuckle or a puff of air out of his chest, but a laugh nevertheless. "Fine, one fuckin' account, then. 'S neater, 'it's true." And it was. It would make expenses easier to track, invoices easier to file.

The other man's own amusement hitches a little grin up on Errol's mouth, but it quickly scurries away in the face of self-deprecation. He turns and Saunders passed the desk again, snagging his own mug as he walks and bringing it to his mouth for a drink, shrugging a shoulder.

It bothers him, actually, that the man thinks so little of himself.

"Eh, 's easy 'cause 'ere's aalways a bit o' truth tah t' fings I say, Perry." He had kind eyes, in a manner of speaking. The kind eyes that made someone want to tell you what your problem was. Errol's had never been that nice, even in all the years he'd softened them.

worse for wear || perol

[hngrylikethewoolf]

@apirateslifefor--smee

Much as he'd done before he'd retired from the PD – which still didn't seem very real, if he was being truly honest with himself – Errol was up early for a jog through Enchantra with the girls, then stops at Hatter's for a cuppa.

Both Delilah and Dublin are sitting, leads wrapped around the legs of his chair, while Errol sips at his drink and reads a book. It was rare when he was working full-time that he had much downtime. It was weird, sometimes, to have it now.

"Eh? Which one's 'at," he asks, hearing his table mate speaking. While he was muttering to himself, it was loud enough to be heard a table away. Taking a drink from his cup, Errol twists to look at the man, a brow arching "'S it t' prison or somefin' less problematic?"

Reading The News & It Sure Looks Bad | Open

[hngrylikethewoolf]

@notbad-justsungthatway

Errol nods, humming. It sucked, but that was the way of things sometimes. They sucked bollocks.

But if she was willing to look past it, then Errol wasn't going to push the issue.

"Settle intah t' idea I ain't gotta go in tah work so early," he quips, taking a drink. "But, ah, 've been workin' wif Perry fer a while, off an' on. Figure I might see if he needs any extra hands 'round th' office."

Dinner Dates || Jess & Errol

[hngrylikethewoolf]

@perry-flynn

Errol had learned how to mend things years ago, how to repair them and make them new. He'd also learned, growing up with as little money as they'd had, how to make things go for as long as possible.

As he'd gotten older, more money, he'd grown out of the habit, but it still reared its head, on occasion.

"Mm if ye wanna. Ain't like yah haveta, though," Errol replies, shrugging a shoulder gingerly. Everything hurt, and was starting to throb, now that he wasn't mobile.

Placing his feet onto the ground, he stands with a stretch, sighing softly as things pop before he starts to walk the perimeter of the room, a slow, winding meander.

"Jus' bat 'ose big ol' eyes an' ye'll be fine, I fink."

worse for wear || perol

[hngrylikethewoolf]

@notbad-justsungthatway

Errol listens, like he always does, and files what he's hearing away. A faint grimace colors his face at the mention of what DeSoto has to do, of the long-standing acts that cancel. He understands, in a way, but in others he does not.

So, he merely nods and says nothing. Lets Jess talk, get it out, because she clearly needs to. He just sips at his wine.

"Mm, alright. Fair enough. We can table 'at, then. No harm in chattin', though 'm sorry 's been so bad."

Dinner Dates || Jess & Errol