Eyes attentive to the glowing screen of her iPhone and nothing else - Saige let out a small, surprised yelp at the brush against her cheek, hand coming to swat against her cheek like it’d been a bug instead of the pack of cigarettes and phone clattering, tragically, onto the pavement. “Oh my god -” it’d been a dramatic second of reaction - and then she’d broken out into a grin and a nervous laugh, the aftereffect of her nerves jumping. “Aw, Jude - you’ve stuck, like, a mouse up your nose, that’s very unethical. Peta would be very disappointed,” she had reached up to bat at the tampon string - like she was going to grab it, but she hadn’t - just her lips pressed into a thin smile in an attempt to not laugh at him, “Surprisingly large boxes? Is she - is she like, carrying an entire box of them around? Just, beneath her arms - an entire supply to last every girl inside a month. Like - like one of those um, medicine dogs, like - in Alaska? Or something? Y’know? Saint Bernards?”
Expression extremely serious, as he always pretended to be, Jude pointed a limp finger in Saige’s direction. “I would never do that to a mouse. Mice go in my mouth, and no other hole. I’m, uh... I’m very strict, about that. No horsing around, with my snacks.” Gesturing his hands out with a subtle lift of the eyebrows, Jude mimicked a nonverbal “what can I say?” before slotting a cigarette between his lips. “Box was pretty fuckin’ plump, I have to say. Just, uh... Just an entire briefcase’s worth. Dunno her story, though. Maybe she needs all of them. Different, uh...” Red rimmed eyes narrowing to a squint, he considered the territory he was venturing. “Specifications, I guess. Different... stuff, going on, down in the nether.” In reality, he wasn’t too sure what he was talking about, but he didn’t have the experience to specify. Jutting the pack Saige’s way, he offered a cigarette wordlessly. “Hair looks nice,” came after he’d spent a few seconds investigating her, apparently thinking nothing of the random compliment. They were rare, from Jude, but not in a deliberate way -- he only said nice things when he wholeheartedly meant them. “Very hair-like. Just, uh... Just dangling, there.” Slipping a hand into his jacket pocket, he rustled for a moment before producing his lighter, unlit cigarette bobbing with every mumbled syllable. “Kudos, on the dangling.”
yuri: I mean yeah it's a little cruel but I'm really not qualified to solve crimes. Sounds like a lot of work. Dying would take a lot less effort.
yuri: Drunk would be I cant remember my own name.
yuri: What do you expect me to do? Ring this Knox guy up and be like "Hey man give Jude his toilet back and unblock him or else." Imagine that in a thick Russian accent for max intimidation.
yuri: Somehow I don't think this will work. Have you considered just buying a new one and locking your door?
jude: cheers i'll drink to that
jude: invalid. i rarely know my own name. i painted over it in white on my own birth certificate so no-one can ever know it for sure
jude: yeah? he can't keep getting away with it, yuri. he's a one man weapon of utter destruction
jude: this isn't a very promising start to our friendship if you won't even stick up for my toilet
yuri: That's understandable honestly I'd rather die too tbh
yuri: Were you maybe drunk or something last night? Sometimes I do crazy shit after a few drinks.
yuri: You got any weird friends that might have borrowed it?
jude: that's a bit cruel, yuri.
jude: uh
jude: i mean it's hard to say, really. what qualifies as drunk, exactly?
jude: yeah actually you know what yuri i know exactly who might have done it. it's that bastard blake knox again. would you mind messaging him for me and giving him a piece of your mind? he's blocked me (probably as part of this mastermind scheme of his)