ArchivedLogs:A Friday In

A Friday In
Dramatis Personae Ivan, Rasa
In Absentia	2013-10-04 '
Location <XS> Ivan and Peter's Dorm - FL2
The first thing one might notice upon entering this dorm room is the almost constant, low drone that emanates from almost a dozen terraria, situated mainly on and around one of the two desks present. Inside of them are plants, sand, bits of driftwood and a /lot/ of different insects and arachnids, all making their respective little noises. Krrt, chkk chkk. The other desk houses no such creatures, but it does have a laptop. There is a poster of a Dalek hanging next to a small television perched atop a few game consoles, a three-seater with a dark brown coffee table in front of it, two dressers and beds on the far side of the room. One is made quite neatly, the other... not so much. Books are strewn across pillow and sheets, mostly English and Russian-language. An even greater number is piled precariously next to the bed. Numerous postcards depicting well-known European and some Russian cities are taped to the wall above it. Friday hits most students like a bomb, infusing their young bodies with energy, despite the week of weariness that proceeds. They zip out of class, enjoy the waning warm weather, make plans for trips to the nearby town or The City (with the proper supervision), or start competitions in the Rec Room, filling the walls with more bodies and noise than most other times in the week. Rasa is not much different from the other students. Ze leaves class and hurries to hir extracirriculars with a little bit more zest than normal, but that starts to disappear when Ivan doesn't come down for dinner. Ze speaks with the kitchen staff and secures a bag dinner for him and pads quietly upstairs, past the rowdy beings in the boys dorm to knock gently against the door frame as ze quietly peeks in the already partially open portal. Ze is dressed for athletics more than aesthetics this evening, with a gray Xavier's tee shirt on over old, navy sweat pants that are rolled up to just under hir knees. Ze has cut a hole for hir tail, but hir distraction has left it empty. Ze toes out of hir sneakers and leaves them by the door as ze looks around, perhaps mostly at hir partner's bugs. "I brought dinner, if you're hungry." The collection of insects and arachnids in the terraria are as they almost always are, hanging out on bits of collected greenery or perched contently under lights, stirring only every so often only to return to stillness a few seconds later. Which isn't too far from what their owner is doing, actually. The biggest different is that he's not encased in glass, but instead sitting at his desk. Ivan, dressed in a simple brown T-shirt and jeans, just... sits. There's a book in front of him, and he's staring at it when Rasa comes in, but one of his arm is resting atop the pages -- which would make it quite hard to read. Especially seeing as how he looks like he's about to fall asleep on top of it, eyes unfocused and showing clearly how he hasn't been sleeping so very well, lately. The past few days? Weeks? There is also a plethora of... ants and equally tiny spiders crawling across the text, his arm, and-- pretty much everywhere else. Like tiny little herds of spiders and rivers of ants. The spiders in particular seem grateful for the fact that his hair has grown out a bit more, almost to the length it was before he had it cut, a few of them having taken to weaving tiny webs behind an ear and across the back of his head. "Dinner?" He doesn't sound particularly enthused in this murmur of a word, even if there is a smile when he turns his head, somewhat belatedly, in Rasa's direction. "Thank you." Rasa wanders closer, the peachy bronze shade of hir skin steadily graying with concern. Ze frowns as ze eyes the desk and eyes the young person at the desk and then the bag in hir hand. Ze finally stops near one corner and reaches in to start to encourage the insects and arachnids in the barest part ze can find to move by touching the desk and moving toward them. Nudge, nudge, without touching, trying to carve out a spot large enough for the dinner to be set down. "Yes. It's after dinner time now. I mean, if you want something hot, we can go down and get it, but the sack dinner is here. Then again, it might keep until later, if you're feeling up for going somewhere now and not... later." Ze carefully places the bag down, turning hir attention to the boy in question. Hir eyes start studying him, looking for free space now for an affectionate touch. "But, yeah. Hi. How are you?" Ivan does not move while Rasa speaks, save for his eyes scanning hir form first, in what looks to be idle observation, before they land on the bag instead. And they stay there. The ants don't much change their behaviour, coiling in a path around one of his arms here, his shirt there. But the spiders, they freeze when there is the distinct noise of... belly rumbling. And then they SCATTER, into his hair and his clothes, leaving exposed parts of his skin just to the more organised trails of ants. Later? Oh no, this bag is getting opened now. Without closing the book - which looks to be Russian-language, possibly a novel - Ivan reaches for the food with both hands, dragging it closer to maybe-- hug it. He doesn't seem quite sure, his movements slow but so calculated they almost look mechanical. "I am hungry." This is, apparently, all the answer Rasa gets. "Do you know when you last ate?" Rasa moves closer and kneels down next to his chair, reaching a hand up to run hir first two knuckles lightly against the side of his arm, somewhere in between the stream of insects. Hir mind, when it touches Ivan's, searches for some recognition that he is glad to see hir, or even acknowledgement that he knows it it hir, and not some other person from the dorms. "How's your homework going?" Hir eyes scan the page of the book, idly sounding out the sounds ze is learning in class in hir mind. There isn't much background yet, so ze doesn't grasp much of the meaning. The very first thing that comes back from Ivan's mind, like a wave washing across a newly manifested shore, is exactly that gladness. Gladness to have a Rasa here, despite not having sought hir out earlier. But... there is something muted about it. Perhaps it is the lack of rest but something has left his mind slightly dulled, and the constant feedback from the tiny creatures in the room is amost... comforting in the midst of it. A different kind of comforting than Rasa's presence offers, even if priorities aren't made quite clear. "I ate... for lunch. A sandwich." Ivan's answer comes with a furrowing of his brow and shifting of weight, so he can reach to rub a hand over his own face, across his eyes. "Homework is..." ... something. He doesn't quite seem to know how to end that sentence, his mind rolling sort of... halfheartedly past several Russian words but ultimately choosing none to translate and throw back, glancing briefly over at the book only to get distracted by the bag again, and opening it to peer inside. The sentence and thought are promptly abandoned. "Thank you." A second time, apparently. Inside the bag is an apple, a tin foil wrapped chunk of meatloaf at room temperature, a dinner roll, and three inch section of corn on the cob. Everything will stay moderately tasty for a couple hours outside of refrigeration, but it's good that Ivan is choosing to eat now as it will not keep over night. There are also napkins in the bag, and some Andes mint and chocolate candies. Rasa presses the first section of hir fingers against the side of his arm and stays close, hir eyes shifting over to the webbing on the back of his neck and near his ears. "You've been sitting long enough that they're trying to catch their dinner off of you. Are you studying the food chain?" << Perhaps getting up and doing something is a good idea. It is the weekend. Would you like to go somewhere? >> The question spills out unbidden and Rasa looks somewhat embarrassed by it, despite the fact that hir skin stays gray and otherwise colorless. << Maybe to Mr. Holland's for cupcakes? >> << I would like to stay here. >> This is not an answer Ivan has to think about, it just /happens/. And he doesn't seem particularly aware that it might not be what ze wanted to hear. His movements remain slow even as he reaches to pick up the apple and just /chomps/ into it to free his hands. Approved. Apples are good. The ants that crawl across his skin do so slightly more energetically now, even if he himself continues to sluggishly close the bag with a crumple of its top. Just in time for a few of the ants to crawl onto it, but fail to actually get in. If they could feel disappointment, it woud probably ring through Ivan's mind right now. There is something else, though. Something slightly more demanding. Near a thousand of the ants, all suddenly aware, even if they cannot express it in words or thought - there is FOOD HERE. << Oh. Okay. >> Rasa moves hir hand toward Ivan's wrist, seeking out the palm of his hand, hopefully free of ants for the moment. 'Miss you' starts to scrawl across hir arms in black until hir eyes fall on the lettering and ze wills it to disappear, a silver hue turning hir broadcasting off. "Maybe we can watch a movie. I... I've got one in my room, if that sounds good?" Food? Just for a moment, apple still in his mouth, Ivan just sort of appears to be staring /through/ Rasa. If he's caught the words appearing, he's not showing it. The movement toward his hand goes largely unnoticed until a few seconds later, his fingers squeeze around hirs. It's almost more of a habit than it is choice, though it coincides with the echo of a thought of Rasa leaving. Chomp. The apple falls down into his free hand as he takes a bite out of it, his eyes lifting in a slow path up to Rasa's as he chews. Ants suddenly start coiling tight paths around both his arms again, moving chaotically back and forth as they gather in unhappy little queues. Yet never quite reaching the apple or Rasa, kept thoughtlessly away from either. Can't always get what you want, ants. No matter how frantically your little antennae waggle. Ivan's thoughts continue to be flooded with the noise of them, existing. Little blips of feedback, negative nor positive, just there. Like a city street crowded and cramped with people. A city street that would by now feel alien without them. It's infinitely easier to focus on them than what's below. << ... Okay. A movie. >> Simply that. Rasa stays for a moment, pressing up against his fingers, before pulling away slowly. "Okay. I'll just be... right back. Then we can watch something." Ze draws hirself to hir feet and stretches slowly, leaning in to press a long kiss to his cheek, careful not to squish or kiss anything else. Rasa does leave and does return quickly. The movie is 'Eight Legged Freaks' - an incredibly silly 'horror' movie about spiders of unusual sizes. During the movie, ze nudges Ivan, not necessarily for physical contact, though that is important to hir, but more to get him to eat, breaking the meatloaf down to small pieces and offering to his mouth when he seems interested. Cuddling would be nice too. Be it the subject of the movie, the weighted down part of Ivan's brain that comes with poor sleeping as of late, or the bugs that continue to swarm his skin occasionally only to disappear into clothing or cracks a moment later -- Ivan stays a little too still. When he is offered food he accepts it gladly, occasionally glancing to look Rasa over between bouts of being even quieter than usual. But though the movie manages to capture his attention and even manages to drag a weak but genuine smile out of him several times, exhaustion gets the better of him two thirds of the way into the movie. Cuddling happens, but mostly? Mostly just because once his stomach's a little fuller, he's starting to leeeeaan. Until the ants are sent /away/, and his eyes are closed and he's half curled up into Rasa's lap, should ze allow it. A deep sleep it is not, but for now? He's happy with just this.