ax_main | Caleb and Clint, backdated to 10/27/18

Caleb and Clint take on Gilmore's Murder Mystery Challenge at the Halloween party.

Well. Here Caleb was. At a party. He sipped at his drink as he looked out at the other students, all of them in their costumes and having a good time. It was a bit of a game trying to place who was who, masks and make-up making some familiar faces unfamiliar. The huge angel wings, or the blue fur gave some people away pretty quickly.

“What do you think, Frumpkin? Should we get another drink?” Frumpkin ruffled his new feathers in response, then nibbled at his hair.

Except Clint sidled in beside him with a little grin and nudged Caleb's hip with his own. "Hey you. How's it going so far?”

“It is, ah, going.” Caleb had thus far had a drink, and successfully avoided socializing, so that was good. “You?”

"It's okay," Clint admitted. "I mean, because of everything, we don't really know that many people yet, so it makes parties difficult, you know?”

“I was never good at parties. Have you, ah, talked to anyone? Do you want to get a drink?” Caleb held up his empty Solo cup.

"Drink sounds good? What'd you find?" Clint asked, trying to find a way to hook the cardboard hand-axe in his belt.

Caleb blinked with the sudden realization that he didn’t have an answer for that. “I do not know.” He had been in such a rush to get to and away from the table that he’d grabbed the first thing his hand had landed on. “It tasted good. Soda and something.”

"We really need to find you some beer," Clint decided, a concerned crinkle on his forehead.

Caleb wasn’t going to argue. A drink was a drink. “I could go for a beer.”

"How 'bout I go get some beers, and you find out where we start the mystery quest?" Clint suggested. "I wanna know who dunnit.”

“Okay. I will meet you back here.” Caleb left and made a beeline for the table near the entrance of the party. He’d seen it, and the top hat filled with characters and first clues on top of it, when he’d first come into the party, and, but he’d been too distracted by everything else going on to pay it much mind. The idea of a murder mystery game had piqued his interest, though.

Caleb stuck his hand into the top hat and pulled out the first two slips of paper his hands closed around. He opened one and read it. Apparently, he was Ollie the tricksy stablehand. Taking it, and the slip for Clint, he went back to meet Clint.

Two beers in hand, Clint met him halfway there, popping the caps and handing one over. "Find anything interesting? I hope I'm the murderer. Wait, can that happen?"

“I don’t know. I did not think to ask,” Caleb said as he took the beer and passed Clint his character and clues. “I am Ollie the tricksy stablehand. …I don’t know if I was supposed to tell you that.”

Clint turned the paper over and pouted. "Well, I'm not the murderer. Or maybe I'm not supposed to tell you that? Either way, I'm Ms. Hemmingway, the baker. My loaves are thick and plump and smell lovely and fresh.”

“Gilmore made up that one.” Caleb would bet on it. He read his clues, then leaned over to take a peek at Clint’s. They’d possibly cheated already, so they might as well lean into it. “So I think we just use these clues to find other clues to find other clues to find the murderer.”

"Sounds legit," Clint agreed. "We should probably question a few people - see if they give away anything.”

Caleb nodded and looked out at the party thoughtful as he tried to decide where they should start. Who was a weak link...? “We should start with Bobby.” He pointed to the boy who was dressed as...a snowboarder with a gun, maybe?

"Oh yeah. He'll give things up in a second," Clint breathed, glad he was doing this with Caleb. Caleb could see things no one else did. Maybe because he was so quiet, he didn't have to think about conversation or anything. He just watched.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So,” Caleb said nearly an hour later, looking at the clues they had found and they notes they’d taken, “the gardener did it.” He smiled, pleased with them both for solving the mystery. It hadn’t been this most difficult thing to figure out ever, but it had been fun.

"I'm just annoyed he made a mess of my kitchen in the process," Clint pouted, still in full Ms. Hemmingway character.

“Yes. As the tricksy stablehand, I approve of most shenanigans, but that was pushing it,” Caleb replied in his own awkward attempt at playing in character.

Clint managed not to laugh out loud at Caleb's awkwardness, knowing that he wasn't exactly smooth himself. Instead, he just grinned, and found himself looking around for Cal. "Hey, have you seen the big bad wolf around?”

Caleb point Cal out. He’d been keeping an eye on him, Clint, and Molly since the party had started. He liked knowing where his friends were. “He got the big part right, but not so much the bad.”

"Yeah well," Clint followed Caleb's finger and watched Cal for a moment. "He thinks he's a lot badder than he is.”

Caleb watched Cal a moment too, then watched Clint watch Cal. A thoughtful furrow pinched his brow. “Yes,” he agreed. “But, the same could be said about huntsmen.”

Clint blinked, forced to drag his gaze away from their friend to frown at Caleb in confusion. “What?"

Caleb had thought the train of thought was obvious, so he gave Clint a confused look back. “You are not as bad as you think you are.”

"Oh," Clint flushed slightly, then nodded. "Right. Well, I don't really think I'm a bad guy, you know? Not like Cal.”

There was a moments pause as Caleb looked out at their friend. “No, not like Cal, but it still stands. You are both very good people, and very good friends.”

Clint quirked a smile at his friend, then flung an arm over Caleb's shoulders, briefly squeezing before letting go. "We think you're pretty amazing too, you know?”

“I am the best there is at what I do,” Caleb said awkwardly.

"You sure as hell are," Clint agreed fondly.