#[ HELLO CRUNKLE (CREEPY UNCLE)!!! ]

[weepingclergy]

"OH! Wait a second, kiddo... I know you??" The question mark was poignant, and ever the tell-tale sign that the spiders in his head were working over time. His face, his prominent pout, his Grima-forsaken ironic slouch. (Maribelle was the last person in the world to have a bad posture, so Henry had always found it HILARIOUS.) "I do! Yeah! It's..." He snapped his fingers twice, like striking a match. "Brady! Or do you go by some other name now?" Cynthia hadn't given him a rundown about Maribelle's kid at all, so for all he knew, Brady went by Brandon Salamander or something now, right?

"Man oh man— glad you're not dead in the water, nya ha ha! Didn't know I'd end up bumping into a whole lot of you kids here, but I guess flocks of a feather end up together, ahaha~" He tilted his entire body to one side, trying to peek for the kid's signature instrument of choice. Then the other, just for funsies. Did he still play? Was it just Henry, or was this kid even older now??

"You still play, don'tcha? The crows and flowers always liked when you did."

finally his sickness subsides and brady can drag his arse out of the infirmary tent. it's embarrassing enough that he had to forego the traditional interview because of his weak stomach, but he totally ralphed at least 4 times on the way from the interview hall to the medtent. he wants to whack his skull against a wall. if ANYONE calls him 'barfy' or something similar, he's going to beat the shit out of them.

as he swaggers from one place to the next, flashing sneers wherever he walks, brady keeps eyes out for any suspicious figures. however, he's so caught up in his search that when someone addresses him from behind, he almost throws up again from surprise.

" AHH! WHAT T-- " cough. slouch. leer. " oh. it's you. yeah, it's me. an' i didn't change my name none, either---the hell gave you that idea?"

henry always was a bit of a nutcase in brady's eyes. never not talking death or crows or murder or what have you; risen were scary, but the way this guy pulled them apart like string cheese was scarier. oh, gods, the imagery's making him feel sick again. he shakes his head and tries to keep his stink eye strong.

though, something that white-haired melvin says alerts him. " you kids? " he grunts, turning his head lightly to the side. " wait, you mean i ain't the only one of us here? where're the others? you know somethin' i don't, grampa? "

he tries to get close, maybe intimidate some info out of henry, but his next question pops brady's bravado like a tent in a windstorm. he sags, flicks his eyes to the side bashfully. he didn't think the guy would be genuine like that.

" 'course i still play. why the hell wouldn't i? my violin case s' still on the boat. "