Used to play pretend. [Mordecai / open]

[outfit.] | Hannah A. Hunt

There was a mental checklist that Mordecai was keeping track of. More so, he churned it over and over to make sure he kept himself on track, and that he appeared as busy as he wasn't to onlookers. First, he would stop by the corner market to grab some cat food, because where he typically went grocery shopping did not have cans with adequate sustenance for his tiny kitty friends. Secondly, he needed to get groceries, as follows: milk, liver, beef chunks, a whole chicken (not alive, sadly), cooking sherry, a bottle of Bailey's, a ham roast, a pint of gelato for him to hide deep in the freezer so his grandmother could not find it, and two bags of rice. There was once a time where he pretended that he needed vegetables and fruits, and he would try to interweave it into his shopping list. Mostly, because he knew his cashiers would always look at him funny. It grew to the point where he no longer cared, of course, not much unlike literally everything else in his like. "Someone's a big meat eater!" They joke, and his glazed eyes meet their's, only briefly, before he would retort, "Oh? Who?" And they typically had the mind to take a hint. It wasn't the best tactic, but how could he honestly play it off? He shopped in the same place, got the same thing every time, and he all he needed was meat and booze and ice cream.

Though, to some, he was probably just a pathetic bachelor. That wasn't too far off the mark.

After he went grocery shopping, he normally window shopped for weird knick-knacks or books, not really minding his groceries as things could be refrozen, and all meat was good meat even if it was spoiled meat (and, of course, meat didn't spoil as fast as people claimed, which was a weight off his shoulders). His grandmother basically lived off rice and milk, and she grew her own tomatoes on the back porch (tomatoes that, of course, Mordecai had to keep track of nowadays). Perhaps he wasn't taking care of her as well as he could, but it was easy for her to be out of sight, out of mind, due to her neurotic nature and constant hiding and how she often left the house for walks. She wasn't always that way, and of course Mordecai grew numb to it. Perhaps she took care of herself more than he thought. It wasn't as if she was dying, anyhow. Of course it made him feel a twinge of guilt when he thought like that, but it was easier this way. People would call him a monster, but,

didn't they

already?

(After all, there was a special place for those who ate children, wasn't there? No matter if he actually ate a child or not.) They were one to talk, weren't they?

If he didn't know he would take all day to shop for books if he let himself, he would shop for small things first. But sometimes the more abstract the routine, the more effective it was, and... Mordecai paused from his typical walk, cat food dangling precariously from his fingers. There was a scent of breakfast that grabbed him by the nostril, and he sighed at himself. What a nuisance he was to himself, when he had already had the last of the chicken breast before he left. But, his stomach growled and he obediently turned heel to Brown's Cafe. It'd be a lie to say he didn't often find himself there for lunch, but breakfast was pretty atypical, considering how little he liked spending money. But what harm would chicken and biscuits do, for a mere 10 dollars? Again, he frowned to himself but queued in line nonetheless. Looming above most heads, taking care to not glance at anyone around him. A shadow of a man.

And it was when he turned to leave, a soft "thank you" on his lips, that a blaze formed within the cafe. It was a pain, how people were suddenly running and shoving past him, screaming and making a big deal out of who the hell cares? Of course, he supposed, some weren't used to the small intricacies that structured Hollow Falls, especially nowadays. Or maybe they cared more about the poor, poor barista than Mordecai could understand. But, Mordecai cared very little for a witch who couldn't control her magic, and he cared very little for the now singed and sobbing barista. They all heard the spat, didn't they? He didn't think she deserved the flames, but she also was much too harsh for his liking. No, the overlying reason Mordecai pushed gently past the crowd and out the door without a simple glance of consideration was because he just simply did not have the energy.

"What a pain," He murmured, syncing back into his routine walk, though eyeing a place to eat without being disturbed. Mordecai stopped for a moment to tuck a cigarette between his lips, and to rummage in his pocket for his lighter, when his eyes followed where the witch had run off to, seeing no signs of her. And curiously, he peaked around the corner to one of the dim lit alleys that freckled the shopping district, only to find her collapsed body. "Ah, I shouldn't have looked," the hag told himself, but hazel eyes stayed locked in place, "just walk away." But Mordecai wasn't really the type to listen to his own warnings, and he stepped forward toward the homeless girl.

"Excuse me," He spoke aloud, much more confident than he truly was, but more comforting than he intended, "Are you alright?" Mordecai approached her hesitantly, and he knew better than to provoke her any further if she had such little control over herself. Mordecai was once as sloppy as she, though that was ages ago now, and he was definitely not nearly as strong as her, but he understand nonetheless. He didn't want to have this empathy, but who did she have if not the kindness of a lone stranger? If she even wanted it after that whole mess.

"Listen, uh..." His gaze dropped, "I know it wasn't your fault..."

His words sounded like bullshit even to himself. He was such a creep, wasn't he? But, paternal to a fault, the man presented his Cafe bag to her, outstretched carefully on the crook of his finger. He tried to tell himself that this would be a waste, but watching the pathetic lump made him feel so much more otherwise. "You can pretend you forgot this, if it makes it easier," He said, blandly, but his position did not waver.