ArchivedLogs:Augustus
| Augustus | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia
|
2013-04-14 Ryan comes to pick up his potcactus. He does not succeed. |
| Location
<NYC> 404 {Eric} - Sunrise Apartments - Clinton | |
Late on Sunday afternoon, Eric's apartment has been emptied of one (1) Shane, and a load of laundry has been shipped off to the laundromat. Humming softly, Eric carefully folds his sheets back in place on his bed, tucking the edges neatly under. Hospital corners, just like he was taught in the scouts. He steps over to turn up his radio just a little bit more and return to tuck the blankets back down, humming along to the latest hit song that has captured the airwaves - something by some up-and-coming nobody musician named Ryan Black. Small world: the very up-and-coming nobody musician mounts the steps to the fourth floor of the Sunrise Apartments, approaching the very door his upbeat, indie-rock tune emanates from. Ryan, dressed in casual attire of olive green zip-up hoodie, tattered dark-wash jeans, and black converse, announces his presence with a rap of his knuckles on the door. "Yo, Eric?" His voice makes itself heard above the radio, or maybe //through// the radio -- soundwaves being A Thing with him. Eric glances at the radio and tilts his head in confusion. "The... fuck?" He glances towards the door and turns the radio down with a quick twist of his wrist. He heads over to the door and peeps through the peephole, squinting to recognize the face through the fish eye lens. He undoes the (several) locks and opens the door, eyes flicking up and down. "Well, hello, hello. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Come in, before you get shanked." he says, gesturing the other man into his apartment with a smirk.
"It's not every day that famous people walk through these corridors, unless they're famous for being on the NYPD's watchlists. Not exactly the best apartments in the world, I'm afraid." Eric jokes, eyes twinkling mischievously. "Jax sent you over here?" He pauses, blinking, as this information slips into his head, then he laughs. "Well, well, well. Why in hell would he do that?" he walks over to his refrigerator and pulls out a beer. "Want something to drink? I've got booze and booze." "I'm on a watchlist? For //what//? I have a perfect record. I'm an innocent Southerner trying to make it big in New York. My past is //spotless//," Ryan professes, pushing a hand through his hair. "Oh, no. Jax didn't send me. He just told me how to find you." He grins, easy-casual and warm and friendly, letting his arm drop down at his side. "I came by myself. To, uh, reclaim something of mine, hopefully." He head-shakes at the offer of liquor, explaining, "Naw, I try and keep clean on the Lord's day. Religion and all that. I just went to church, I'm feeling the spirit." Eric gives Ryan a strange look, tilting his head to one side. "Are you, by any chance... channeling Jax? 'Cause you certainly sound a lot more like him than I woul'da expected." he says, bemusedly, as he pops the cap off of his beer against the edge of his counter top and takes a long sip from it. A chug, really, that empties a third of the bottle. "Reclaim somethin' of yours? I'm not sure you can take someone else's virginity back, but you're more than welcome to try takin' one from me, if you want." "Pfft, how do you think we became friends? We //met// in church. Well, that's a lie. He's Catholic, I'm Southern Baptist, but it was one of our first bonding points." Ryan bares teeth in a broadening smile, casting his gaze about for a place to sit. "Ehhh, I'm not interested in sleeping with you -- too many conflicts of interest there. Not to mention I have reclaimed virginity through God. I'm celibate. //But//," he gnaws on his lip, a bit more hesitant now, "what I'm //not// abstaining from is uh. Well. Can I have my potcactus back? I heard you had it, and I'm sure it misses my windowsill. It's //awfully// lonely. Eric raises his eyebrows then bursts out laughing. "Reclaimed virginity through /God/?!" He raises his beer in a salute towards the other man, chuckling and shaking his head. "Conflicts of interest? How would that be a conflict of interest?" he asks, settling back against his counter. At the mention of the plant, he glances over towards his windowsill on the other side of the room, where a rather healthy looking potcactus is nearly budding. "I'm pretty sure your probation mentions abstaining from that, but it doesn't mention abstaining from me." he argues. "You've never heard the term 'born-again virgin'?" Ryan queries, remaining stoic and composed in response to Eric's laughter. He claims a chair at the kitchen table, untucking it to seat himself and drape over the tabletop. "My promise to God aside, my best friend disapproves of you and you continue to engage in //equally illicit// activities with an underaged friend of mine." Following the direction of his glance, he spies his plant on the windowsill with a brightening expression. "I mean, it's not //pure// marijuana. Did the narcotics team ever manage to identify it, exactly? Surely you can't make something //illegal// when you can't classify it." "Oh, I've heard it, but usually only out of the mouths of complete idiots." Eric drawls, taking another gulp of his beer and shaking his head. "And I don't think you believe it for a minute." He pauses, raising an eyebrow, and clapping one hand over his heart. "You wound me." He looks over towards the cactus and gives a little shrug. "Can't make illegal what you can't identify, true! But I bet you it'll still make you test positive on your random drug screens." he says, gesturing over to it. "Take it, if you'd like." "We'll see how idiotic I am when the Rapture strikes," Ryan continues, adhering to his claimed faith-based beliefs. At the accusation of injury, he responds, "I hear you heal quite nicely." An undercurrent of snark runs through that statement, subtle, practiced. "Dude, I'm a vegan. I've got all sorts of hippie-herbalist concoctions to flush my system of shit like weed. Besides, you eat enough poppy-seed muffins and you'll test positive for //opiates//." Extended an offer, he accepts it, rising to amble towards the windowsill. "Thanks, though. I'm sure Augustus is equally as grateful to be reunited with me." Yep, potcactus has a name, apparently. Eric's smile widens and he winks, playfully, at Ryan. "Good thing for Jax, too, or he'd be behind bars for a very long time." he says, and he doesn't sound particularly upset about it at all. "Augustus, huh?" he says, eying reunited plant and owner with a look of suspicion. He shrugs his shoulders, raising his beer in a non-committal gesture. "Hey, it's your probation. Violating it probably helps your sales, anyway." "Yeah. Jim talks to plants. Told me that's what this guy's name is." Ryan points to the potted abomination, careful to avoid pricking his finger on one of the many sharp spines on the cactoid parts of the plant. "Hey, I'm just living my life. If it garners me publicity, that's just a bonus." Eric studies Ryan for several moments, then he straightens up off of the counter top. "Just living your life, huh?" he asks, approaching Ryan slowly, like a predator, eyes flicking up and down the musician. "How do you live your life, hmm?" he asks, smile still hanging off of his lips. "From what I've heard from Shane, you and I are more alike than not." "By composing wholesome music to further my career as an artist," Ryan enlightens him, rotating the pot in his hands to scrutinize the condition of his just-christened Augustus. Content to linger by the windowsill, he plants a butt-cheek up against it, leaning back. "Eh, I don't know. You seem pretty opposed to a lot of what I //might// have used to do. Being a police officer and all." Eric waves a hand, dismissively. "Alright, you've got me there. I'm no activist." he says, spreading his hands in surrender. "But you are more than an activist, and I am more than a cop." he says, stepping even closer to Ryan, a note of hungriness entering his eyes. "We're also both men." "Nope, but you have good taste in music. But you //also// don't seem to listen very well." Ryan frowns, setting the potcactus next to him on the ledge of the window. "Me? I'm a lot of things besides an activist. Being a man is just //one// of those. I'm also a Christian. And a good friend." Not oblivious, no, he interprets the look in Eric's eyes and rolls his shoulders back, adjusting the zipper of his sweatshirt -- pulling it //up// more. In his voice, too, a hint of something pacifying rides: calm, cool, not passion this; more like neutrality, a de-facto nothingness of empathy. "I think Jax would much prefer /you/ sleeping with me than Shane." Still, the other man's hand on his zipper causes him to slow his pace and step back, taking another drink of his beer and draining it. He has to then head backwards to put the bottle in the recycling - look, he's an environmental person! - and turn back to face Ryan. "Well, did you just come for... Augustus, or did you come for som'thin' else too?" "Yeah, but I doubt my sleeping with you is going to cause you to give up Shane altogether. So, why bother? I'm a hot commodity, might as well give into the demands of someone without stepping on toes." Ryan pushes off the windowsill, potcactus in hand. "Nope, I just came for Augustus really. I appreciate your returning him to me." Eric's eyes twinkle and he nods his head once. "Just as well. Even if you kept doing it, I wouldn't give it up, so. Rightly spoken - a lost cause." he gestures towards the door, as he heads back towards the bed to continue tucking the blanket in. "It was good to meet you, Ryan. In better circumstances than last time, I mean." he says, with a flash of a smile. "Try to stay out of trouble." "Thought so," Ryan affirms, nod solemn as he he advances for the door, holding the potcactus in front of him. Pausing before he turns the knob, "Um. Actually. Can you hold onto Augustus a while longer? I forgot to bring something to transport him in discreetly." He blushes at his own forgetfulness. "Figure I should be staying out of trouble starting //now//." Eric looks up from the bed and gives Ryan a bemused smile. "Cart before the horse? City boy." he teases, gesturing back to the windowsill. "Put him back there. He's been growin'. He likes the sun." he says, playing along with the anthropomorphizing of the potentially hallucinogenic plant. "And give me a call or somethin' before you come by next time, yeah? I'm not always here, and it's not a safe place to stand in the hallway. Not for you, anyway." "Will try." Ryan backtracks to the windowsill, sighing as he replaces the potted plant back onto its temporary home on the windowsill. Frowning, he nods. "Or maybe I'll tag along with Shane." Eric's smile brightens at the mention of the twin. "Yeah. You can tag along with Shane. I think I'm taking him and 'Bastian out for dinner sometime in the next week, when they have a chance, and I'm not workin' nights. You could come by then." he says, brightly. "Sounds good," Ryan says, accepting the invitation. With that, he flicks off a mock salute from the tip of his brow to the off-duty officer and exits -- homeward bound, and sans potcactus. | |
