You don't think I know that? Everything's all fucked sideways, now!
[...but it was still hot, he thinks about saying. Instead, sighs, putting on a bit of extra drama.]
If I could spread the wealth, love, cross my heart I would. Then you'd be getting all the nudes blowing up your phone. Honest to God, I can tell you'd appreciate them more than me!
[The actual content of said meetings begs to differ. But that's not really her problem, and he'd rather not talk about anyone else, so he focuses on the question at hand.]
Little bit of column A, little bit of column B. I'm guessing we're safe from Deadly Abstinence, but that's not to say that those horny boys won't be coming after us one way or another. I'm still getting all the details from the previously unlucky bastards that wound up in my shoes.
[...]
Granted, that's not to say I can't help anyone else.
[But he grins as he says it. He kind of knows he is.]
Not all of 'em. Just the ones who had to do what we've gotta do now--the ones who were responsible for overseeing all this. Dunno about the actual guy from the recording. I don't hear his voice at all.
The perks, I mean. You did go through hell to get 'em.
[She leans against the railing overlooking the water, and then fishes her cigarettes out of her pocket. She's vaguely trying to ration them, but... Eh. She lights up with her brand new lighter, takes a drag, and then offers it to him.]
[He finally gets up off his stupid ass. As the lady commands. He starts forward, and though his eyes flick toward the word tattooed on her skin, he says nothing as he begins his tour. He sort of winces to himself as he realize there's hardly much to look at, but nonetheless carries on with his usual brand of enthusiasm.]
Locker rooms are over here, where yours truly spent many a day donning a lovely orange jumpsuit, perfect color for autumn.
[She follows him lazily, trailing behind, nursing her cigarette and taking in all the peeling paint and scuffed linoleum that the community center has to offer.]
I take it you weren't just sporting a jumpsuit because it brought out your eyes.
[She noticed that he noticed her lovely new tattoo, but she doesn't care. It's not like she's made any attempts to hide it.]
[But he smiles at the sound of her laughter, beaming as he continues on down the hallway.]
There's some kind of day care room down this way, though I've never really been in it--don't get me wrong, I don't mind kids or nothin, but a bloke like me can't so much as walk past an open door that has a toddler inside without getting accused of pedophilia.
[When they get to a dead end that seems to mostly be your standard box-sized employment offices, he takes a seat on a cushion-lined metal bench that rests across one wall.]
It's just what came up. I'm sure it has something to do with meaningful experiences blah blah blah, some kind of corny bullshit like that, but...
[Admittedly, he hasn't really left his "room" since he got it, but, nonetheless.]
Pretty sure I can come and go if I need to, just like anyone from one of their own hotel rooms. Kinda nice to be back, even if it's not much to look at. Memories and all that.
[He's not dealing with constant aggression in here, either. Not that most of it isn't earned, mind you.]
[That's been the oddest part about this whole experience, if she's being honest. She's so... detached here. It's still hard to believe these things are actually real.]
I imagine it's nice to have a space all to yourself, too. That's something you could stock in the gift shop.
[Nathan is the manager of sex boat hotel, now.]
Private rooms, or at least a second bed. You'd think we'd get access to privacy under these conditions. Not that I would say no to an audience, but I don't like the thought that my roommate could crash my party at any given moment.
Fuck, maybe if I get real good at this, I can do all kinds of reality-bending insanity. Conjure up an amusement park and everything. Wouldn't that be something?
[He grins.]
But I'd settle for a bed, that's for fucking sure.
[She's so quietly concerned about you, Nathan??? Not because of the reasons other folks around here tend to cite, but like, where are you sleeping, buddy? Are you getting enough to eat? Quit popping wheelies in that wheelchair, or do you want to break your neck? It's the practical things. Self care is important.
Which... Oh, actually, that gives her an idea.]
You know how sometimes, when you're stuck in some place for some bullshit reason, you get to thinking about fucking someone there just to show it who's boss?
[She reclines against the bench back, watching him.]
[There's an instant, a single instant, where her statement hangs heavy in the air. And then he's on his fucking feet, seemingly before he's even processed his own response. She's cool as a cucumber and he looks like he's just woken up on Christmas morning, his whole body tense with enthusiastic energy.
He's completely forgotten, at least for the moment, that banter is a thing that they, you know, generally play into in this kind of situation.]
I've got a loft!
[He nods his head back toward where they came, past all the doors and various community accommodations, where the main room is.]
[She can't help but grin at that reaction. It'd be tiring except that he's so earnest about it. Most men try to downplay the fact that they spring wood at the first sign of snapper.
She rises to follow him back down the hallway. She has an inkling that "loft" is generous, but she was expecting to be bent over some desk or a locker room bench. She's not that picky.
Hm... While they've got a bit of a walk:]
Now that you're running this show, were you able to get your hands on a lighter?
[Well, not complaining that much. He fishes one out of his pocket, gives it a twirl between his fingers.]
No more stove-top woes for me!
[When they get back to the open hall, Nathan bounces a few extra steps until he swings himself onto a set of metal stairs, leaning against the railing. He holds out a hand to lift her up as if it isn't a normal-sized staircase.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
polyapathy) wrote2019-10-12 09:59 pm
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[...but it was still hot, he thinks about saying. Instead, sighs, putting on a bit of extra drama.]
If I could spread the wealth, love, cross my heart I would. Then you'd be getting all the nudes blowing up your phone. Honest to God, I can tell you'd appreciate them more than me!
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Well, okay, that's easy. Yes, it would be impolite. The pause is more spent trying to justify asking anyway. She doesn't manage, unfortunately.]
Sounds to me like you're more popular these days. Good for you.
[It's like, half sincere, half sarcastic. She hasn't decided how she feels about it just yet.]
All that stuff you were saying earlier—Fuck or die. Does that rule still apply to you or do your perks include weaseling off the hook?
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[The actual content of said meetings begs to differ. But that's not really her problem, and he'd rather not talk about anyone else, so he focuses on the question at hand.]
Little bit of column A, little bit of column B. I'm guessing we're safe from Deadly Abstinence, but that's not to say that those horny boys won't be coming after us one way or another. I'm still getting all the details from the previously unlucky bastards that wound up in my shoes.
[...]
Granted, that's not to say I can't help anyone else.
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[Damn you, bud. But also, more importantly:]
Are you saying you're in contact with the people that came before us? The ones those recordings keep mentioning?
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[But he grins as he says it. He kind of knows he is.]
Not all of 'em. Just the ones who had to do what we've gotta do now--the ones who were responsible for overseeing all this. Dunno about the actual guy from the recording. I don't hear his voice at all.
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[She sighs.]
The perks, I mean. You did go through hell to get 'em.
[She leans against the railing overlooking the water, and then fishes her cigarettes out of her pocket. She's vaguely trying to ration them, but... Eh. She lights up with her brand new lighter, takes a drag, and then offers it to him.]
You're hearing voices, then. In your head?
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[Instead, it's like he's on the wrong side of a faulty telephone connection and he can't hang up.]
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Oh, you can see ghosts too, can you? I'm guessing those perks come from your... immortality.
[This is still a lot to wrap her head around.]
What's this place?
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[Erm.]
After I started dyin and all. Guessing it's a whole being close to death thing. Like people with cancer, 'cept I'm healthy as a horse.
[He looks around.]
Community Center. It's in London. Spent most of my time here. It's the opposite of glamorous but I guess it's the closest thing to home I got, so...
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[She grins. It's a joke. She puffs on her cigarette again, and then shoves off of the railing.]
Show me around.
[She brushes the hair out of her face, and oh, she's got the word UNFAITHFUL scrawled along the base of her neck. So there's that.]
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[He finally gets up off his stupid ass. As the lady commands. He starts forward, and though his eyes flick toward the word tattooed on her skin, he says nothing as he begins his tour. He sort of winces to himself as he realize there's hardly much to look at, but nonetheless carries on with his usual brand of enthusiasm.]
Locker rooms are over here, where yours truly spent many a day donning a lovely orange jumpsuit, perfect color for autumn.
no subject
I take it you weren't just sporting a jumpsuit because it brought out your eyes.
[She noticed that he noticed her lovely new tattoo, but she doesn't care. It's not like she's made any attempts to hide it.]
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[He gives her an almost imploring look that makes him seem more full of shit than ever.]
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Can you still swear on your life when you're immortal?
[But either she believes him or she doesn't care all that much. It's not as if she always operates above the law herself.]
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[But he smiles at the sound of her laughter, beaming as he continues on down the hallway.]
There's some kind of day care room down this way, though I've never really been in it--don't get me wrong, I don't mind kids or nothin, but a bloke like me can't so much as walk past an open door that has a toddler inside without getting accused of pedophilia.
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[She stubs out her cigarette on the wall (since it doesn't seem to matter) and catches up to walk next to him.]
Did you get a choice in scenery when you picked your little corner of whatever this place is?
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[When they get to a dead end that seems to mostly be your standard box-sized employment offices, he takes a seat on a cushion-lined metal bench that rests across one wall.]
It's just what came up. I'm sure it has something to do with meaningful experiences blah blah blah, some kind of corny bullshit like that, but...
[He scoffs.]
Not exactly a lot of atmosphere.
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Are you stuck here now?
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[Admittedly, he hasn't really left his "room" since he got it, but, nonetheless.]
Pretty sure I can come and go if I need to, just like anyone from one of their own hotel rooms. Kinda nice to be back, even if it's not much to look at. Memories and all that.
[He's not dealing with constant aggression in here, either. Not that most of it isn't earned, mind you.]
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I imagine it's nice to be somewhere familiar.
[That's been the oddest part about this whole experience, if she's being honest. She's so... detached here. It's still hard to believe these things are actually real.]
I imagine it's nice to have a space all to yourself, too. That's something you could stock in the gift shop.
[Nathan is the manager of sex boat hotel, now.]
Private rooms, or at least a second bed. You'd think we'd get access to privacy under these conditions. Not that I would say no to an audience, but I don't like the thought that my roommate could crash my party at any given moment.
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[He grins.]
But I'd settle for a bed, that's for fucking sure.
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[She's so quietly concerned about you, Nathan??? Not because of the reasons other folks around here tend to cite, but like, where are you sleeping, buddy? Are you getting enough to eat? Quit popping wheelies in that wheelchair, or do you want to break your neck? It's the practical things. Self care is important.
Which... Oh, actually, that gives her an idea.]
You know how sometimes, when you're stuck in some place for some bullshit reason, you get to thinking about fucking someone there just to show it who's boss?
[She reclines against the bench back, watching him.]
Show me where you're thinking about fucking me.
no subject
He's completely forgotten, at least for the moment, that banter is a thing that they, you know, generally play into in this kind of situation.]
I've got a loft!
[He nods his head back toward where they came, past all the doors and various community accommodations, where the main room is.]
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She rises to follow him back down the hallway. She has an inkling that "loft" is generous, but she was expecting to be bent over some desk or a locker room bench. She's not that picky.
Hm... While they've got a bit of a walk:]
Now that you're running this show, were you able to get your hands on a lighter?
no subject
[Well, not complaining that much. He fishes one out of his pocket, gives it a twirl between his fingers.]
No more stove-top woes for me!
[When they get back to the open hall, Nathan bounces a few extra steps until he swings himself onto a set of metal stairs, leaning against the railing. He holds out a hand to lift her up as if it isn't a normal-sized staircase.]
After you.
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time for the No Appropriate Icon game
gotta get urself some artful no eyes crops like this terrible icon (i am not good at artful crops)