[Abe CH. 1] Play Minstrel Play

[ABE SAPIEN]

Date: 2008 October 05

It was a silent evening for the Sapien known as Abraham, as he took to his daily post-work routine. Otherwise known as, non-work routine. Abe had lowered the lights in his library to a comfortable degree, somewhere between bright and dim, before replacing one of his books with a fresh book and opening to page one. It was truly a pity that there was no modernized technology designed for fishmen and their ironic reading habits. He chuckled to himself quietly as the idea crossed his mind, and climbed into his tank. Once submerged in fresh water, he removed his breathing apparatus, though left it in its normal safe hold along the side of his aquarium.

While it was true that several members of the B.P.R.D. believed that the breathing apparatus was not necessary, Abraham was unable to breathe above the water without mechanical aid. He flipped his feet, finally relaxed, and happy to breathe normally. Walking around with the breathing apparatus was about the equivalent of a human in a scuba suit, as Abe would happily correct those who thought he lugged around the apparatus for fashions sake. Sometimes the less experienced agents were quite amusing in their thought process. Why on earth would a breathing apparatus be fashionable?

Leisurely swimming around in his aquarium, he hovered near the front of the tank and began to read while swimming back and forth listening to classical music and holding a Rubik's cube, which he had prepared for when he had finished with the pages he laid out for himself. It was no secret to anyone in the B.P.R.D. that he enjoyed the company of a 'page-turner' once in a while, though it seemed to often skip their minds, not that Abraham was bothered by the fact. He expected everyone to go on living their own lives, even if it meant they didn't stop in to visit him. He was a patient sapien, and often felt as if he had all the time in the world.

[BEATE-MAREN McCANN]

One of the useful things Bea McCann did not possess was a working sense of direction - the woman spent half her time wandering the wrong way, blissfully unaware of her mistake on the most part. There was no point spinning her some piece of trivia about moss being on the north side of trees, or sticking to animals paths - and handing her a compass would be like giving a hen a fishing rod. They were laughably incompatibile. She'd swear blind that the HQ building itself was conspiring against her (and, with the amount of magic practiced within these walls, who really knew how impossible this was?), and refused to be dissuaded from this theory. Honestly, all she wanted was to be able to get from the canteen to her room without it becoming the neverending journey!

So, where had she ended up this time? Bea pushed open the nearest door, hoping to guage her position by the room's contents. Luckily, it was a place she recognised, had been before many times in her two years with the BPRD - the bookstands, the tank, the soft music drifting from somewhere were all markers of Abe Sapien's home. He didn't appear to be in, Bea couldn't hear any movement in the water, or any footsteps padding around on the carpet. Belatedly, she knocked on the door she was holding open still, feeling rather stupid even as some latent manners came back to her. As Bea had expected, she heard nothing in reply. Her eyes lighted on the books, held aloft on their stands, and an idea flitted into her head. Closing the door softly behind her, the agent padded her way over to the tomes - not bothering to glance at the tank - and in the dim light her eyes scanned the set of very different books with curiosity.

Abe's obsession with learning amused her, though at the same time Beate-Maren also respected the quest for knowledge. The four books on his array of stands probabaly needed their pages turning - and that, at least, was something Bea was wholly capable of accomplishing. Idly, thinking that at least she was doing someone a good deed whilst being lost, Bea flicked each of the four books forward a page . . . Abe would appreciate the sentiment when he returned, or so she hoped.

[ABE SAPIEN]

Abe heard he knocking, but didn't need to look at the entrance to know who would be wandering in this time. Only Bea would ever knock, but because she had knocked after the door was open, Abe had taken it for he knew he was in the room. She let herself in, and made her way leisurely, all ready familiar with this room in the B.P.R.D. establishment, and started turning the pages of the books. He swam briefly over her head, to eye what pages she had turned. It was a kind gesture, but.. "Actually..." Abe started quietly, swimming so his head was parallel to hers in height, if only upside down. "I wasn't ready for you to turn that one yet." He finished pointing at the large blue binded book on the far right podium. His long amphibious finger pointed in the direction of the very podium he spoke of, while looking at her through the glass.

One could only ever guess at Abe's emotions, due to his lack of expressions. The inability to show his emotions physically had been something that Abe had been self-conscious of for quite a while, but alas, what could one do about muscles they didn't have, or did have, that didn't bend the way a humans would? He had come to terms with it was something he could live without. Though he wasn't sure he could even cry, because his supposed lack of tear ducts. Thus, it was hard to establish Abe's feelings, without a tone of voice.

He hadn't meant to surprise her, and he wasn't annoyed, he was relaxed. Perhaps a little bored, but more content now that he had proper company. In his time at B.P.R.D. he had created family and friends. Family such as the Professor, Red and Liz, and friends like Bea who he could always count on to come visit. During these visits many social needs were met, though with Bea it proved hard to predict what would happen for Agent Sapien. Sometimes they would have casual conversations, other times she'd turn pages for him, and sometimes, he could even swear she read with him. Even though he was obsessed with learning, it seemed that Bea was one of the few who at least pretended to take an interest in his reading material. "And hello, by the way." Abe added with a slight delay.

[BEATE-MAREN McCANN]

The sudden movements in the water drew her attention, registering clearly in Bea's hearing whereas with any 'normal' human they would not even be heard. Glancing up, she came face to face with an upside-down Abe . . . and the shock of the unexpected sight made her react quite vehmently - "Holy God in Heaven!", Bea exclaimed, not quite able to help herself contain the fright she'd recieved. Oh, it wasn't because of his looks; while it was true that Abe's appearance took some getting used to, it'd been years now and it didn't bother Bea in the slightest anymore. Then again, blue was one of her favourite colours: cool, calm, not particularly attention-demanding.

"Abe, you bloody scared me half to death! Don't do that!" she admonished with a toss of her head, placing her hands on her hips in the hopes of seeming serious. Beate-Maren, naturally, could not maintain this pretence for long; eventually her composure dissolved into laughter at her own silliness. The girl leant on the podium that had been indicated to her, flicking the page backwards quickly as requested.

It was with a grin, and the occassional giggle still bubbling up through her speech that she inquired, "So, how're you?".

[ABE SAPIEN]

Abe tilted his head to the side, swimming a little above eye level with Bea as she flipped the page backward. He was grateful that Bea had popped in to check on him, unbothered by whether it was an intentional visit or not. Abe knew Bea well enough to know that navigational senses were not her strong suite. Wading in the water, Abe breathed deeply still completely relaxed, though making assumptions based upon Beate's jumpiness, she was anything but.

“I'm sorry.” Abe said simply. “I had no intentions of frightening you.. I assure you.” He answered tilting his head to the other side. He knew better than to believe for half a minute she was upset, or serious. He envied her smile, and laughter. The ability to express emotion, but was happy for her that she could. Such little things were taken for granted at times. “Thank you for turning my pages.” He added trying to add a smile to his voice.

Her polite inquiry was always a breath of fresh water to Abe. She was one of the few agents of B.P.R.D. who visited him during off hours, to many of the B.P.R.D. he was seemingly forgotten after he left the field zone. Even Red seemed to forget him at times, now that he had been rejoined with Liz. “I am well, a fresh water, a bit of Mozart, and thanks to you more reading material.” He stated. “Are you well yourself?” He asked, half-expecting her to be lost, though grateful for the company.

[BEATE-MAREN McCANN]

"Oh it's fine - just another five years off my life expectancy, no biggie." Bea joked casually, fingers idly tapping along with the soft music that was playing, seemingly of their own volition as they coaxed music from the polished, long-dead wood itself. The joke concerning the shortening of her life was one of her most-overused 'funny' moments, and solicited groans more often than it did laughs; Bea often hammed up the tragedy of her impending untimely death - impending because people kept doing what she had accused Abe of, 'scaring her half to death'. No-one had yet managed to scare her all the way to Hades' halls, though there was the occasional smart-alec who threatened it.

The question about her own well-being was expected - polite, but not out of the ordinary - and it recieved a jovial reply, "I'm ship-shape, and Bristol fashion." - she answered happily enough. Until a stray thought rendered that expression odd, and Bea felt compelled to muse aloud on the subject.

"Though I've been to Bristol, and I can't say that it's terribly high up there in the fashion stakes. Anyway, silly saying aside . . ." Because she'd been tap-tap-tapping along all the while,fingers moving deftly to play the podium as if it was indeed a bonafide instrument; and while she appreciated music, Abes tastes were . . . somewhat formal. And deplorably lacking in variety.

"Abe, as much as I love Mozart - Rondo Alla Turka, if I'm not mistaken - haven't you gotten your hands on anything a bit more modern?" Bea inquired, a strange mix of fondness and exasperation colouring her tone. They had this conversation quite often, and she was forever offering to introduce him to newer artists, ones she promised wholeheartedly were decent and talented and not at all 'teenybopper' destroyers of the sacred classics. It didn't work - all the cajoling, all the attempts at softening persuasion she had brought to bear had fallen on kind but deaf ears. Which only served to make Beate-Maren all the more determined in her quest - resistance on the part of others was something she found provocative, a challenge the young woman discovered herself to not have the will to refuse.

[ABE SAPIEN]

Abe blinked in response, though he was amused. His ability to express himself was still limited. “Five years isn't all that much.” Abe assured her, somewhat playfully. Bea's fingers were drumming along to the music. “I do suppose I could aim for lower numbers when I give you such frights.” He continued on to elaborate. As always the agent was polite and charismatic. Before he was given an opportunity to query Bea about Bristol she seized the moment to prompt the predictable. The predictable being a conversation they had shared countless times before.

While Abraham preferred classic music, especially that of the Victorian Age in Europe, Bea had an appreciation for modernized music. To Abraham, the genres of new music had not seemed so appealing, however he was always open to suggestions. Swimming onto his side comfortably, Abe's hand moved automatically in response.

“Is my taste in music so harrowing?” The senior agent pried. Perhaps it was time for a compromise, Agent Sapien was not closed minded to new ideas. “What kind of modern music would you recommend?” It was perfectly feasible to Abraham that the woman displayed such an interest in modern music. It had been the music both her and her generation had been raised with. That was completely aside from the fact that the girl was a half siren.

Abraham wasn't overly fond of what limited experiences he had with what was classified as 'modern music'. Turning idly at his Rubik's cube, he certainly hoped that Bea hadn't expected to introduced him to modern rap. The artist he had last heard possessed little to no talent. “Is the music you're referring to as modern, melodic or... Well versed but spoken?” He inquired casually. It would seem that Bea was better educated in this field than he. Perhaps he would make a brief study based upon new sounds his next project.

[THE STAFF]

Closed out of respect for Bea's prolonged absence.
Originally Closed on: 2011 March 13 by The Staff