ArchivedLogs:On the Boardwalk

On the Boardwalk
Dramatis Personae Toru, Trib	2013-07-14 '
Location <NYC> Coney Island - Brooklyn
Coney Island is a getaway without having to get away very /far/. Miles of bright sandy beaches provide lots of seaside fun in summertime, but the amusement parks are the peninsula's most famous draw. With plentiful rides and games and rollercoasters, food and snacks, shows and even the occasional circus, Coney Island has been a destination for millions throughout the years. A bright day at Coney Island means that today, Toru's wearing those aviator sunglasses of his, again, and dressed in light clothes; gray cargo shorts, his light blue 'Never Be Sober Again' shirt, and he's foregone the gloves for the outing. Amusement parks aren't really Toru's /thing/, but he's nonetheless been more than willing to do what /Trib/ wants to do, and, if nothing else, enjoying /that/ part of the day's activities. After a late lunch (early dinner?) of hot dogs and soda, though, Toru pulls Trib to the edge of the boardwalk to lean up against the rail, looking out over the beach and across the water; the wind that comes over the ocean has resulted in Toru fussing with his hair pretty frequently, though apparently he doesn't otherwise mind it. "You out-of-towners really do go nuts for Coney Island, don't you?" he teases Trib once he's settled in against the rail, arms crossed over it. "Pretty sure I ain't really been here since I was a kid." Trib, for his part, has been a fun date. He even dressed up -- in that he wears a polo with red-and-white horizontal stripes with his cargo shorts, and the sneakers he wears are clean enough to be almost new-looking. He's managed to take Toru through the most /touristy/ of rides and attractions (except the Tunnel of Love, although he definitely teased Toru with it every time they passed it. He even played some boardwalk games to show off, like any good Jersey boy would do for his best date. This is evidenced by the stuffed purple-and white panda that he carries in his right hand, fingers looped through the ridiculous pink ribbon stitched around its neck. When Toru heads for the pier after food, Trib allows himself to be led, falling in beside the teen close enough that his bulk acts as a bit of a windbreak. "Aw, fuck," he rumbles at the question, his eyes crinkling as he slides his gaze sideways at Toru. "I used to spend at least four weekends a summer down the shore, around Little Neck. I kind of miss it, sometimes." Leaning against Trib both for the windbreak and the degree of shade his height offers, Toru pulls his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, and leans in to give Trib a gentle little poke in the side. "Y'know Little Neck's not that much further from your place than this is, right?" Teasing again, he then hunches over just a bit, pushing himself in between Trib's left side and arm, nestling in all comfortably. "I think right around when I turned thirteen-or-so I sorta started being too much of a shit to wanna do stuff like this." He nods a few times there and, for want of something to do with his hands, drops the two of them down to take hold of Trib's, just sort of playing with it idly. "I really wasn't expectin' you to get all dressed up, I kinda feel like a jerk for bein' all casual." "'swhy I like it," Trib replies, his smile tipping lopsidedly as he accomodates the snuggling, looping his arm around Toru and pulling him into his side. "Besides, Little Neck would have been an overnight, on account there's this fuckin' awesome clam place that has a killer dinner menu." He grins and curls his fingers around Toru's idle hands, squeezing gently. "I think every kid turns into a shit at thirteen," he says. "I probably gave my pop more than his fair share of shit, at that age." There's a soft snort, and the big man rolls his eyes. "When he was paying attention, anyway." The snort that follows the comment about his clothing is louder, and is defintely amused. "Fuck, this ain't dressed up," he rumbles, eyes dancing at Toru playfully. "You should fuckin' see me in a silk shirt and chinos. You'll fuckin' cream your jeans." "Then I guess we'll have to do that sometime," Toru remarks, regarding the clam place. Tilting his head up to look up at Trib's face, he squeezes that hand back, tugging gently to no particular aim. "I've actually been thinkin' that if neither of us gets a real bed anytime soon it might not be bad to get a hotel room sometime, just so's you can actually like.. fit your feet on what you're sleepin' on." He hums quietly for a moment, nodding a bit. "Though /probably/ we oughtta wait until it'd be worth it." Pulling away just a little bit, he twists his head around to look at Trib more fully, glancing down at the shirt and back up to his face. "I dunno, you've seen how I dress? /Collars/ is fancy for me. As cute as you'd look, if you were dressed up that much I might think someone died." Trib can't hide the way his grin widens when Toru confirms nebulous future plans, although he keeps his gaze on the sea for a moment. His hand is remarkably tuggable, almost dead weight but not quite. "Mmm. I'm plannin' on gettin' a bed soon, but a hotel would be nice," he says. "It'd be nice to sleep next to you fuckin' proper." He doesn't offer any comment on waiting, but he does chuff a noise that sounds like agreement. And then he's looking a bit offended (but not really) at something in Toru's response on clothing. "/Cute/?" he rumbles, his eyes narrowing. "I ain't /cute/. Hot, maybe. Handsome. But /you're/ the cute one in this thing, Bones," He wags the panda playfully at the smaller man, grinning widely. "An' you'd be too distracted by my sweet ass in chinos to think about anyone else, livin' /or/ dead." "Hey, hey, hey, excuse /me/ but I think you got that the wrong way around," Toru remarks, nudging Trib in the side. "/I'm/ the hot one. I mean, I guess if it makes you feel better you can tell yourself otherwise.." musing, thoughtfully, he hmms quietly to himself and nods a few times. "But look at you, you're all squishy." There's another little nudge there and he grins a bit widely, though also ducks as if expecting a swat for the remark. "And don't get the wrong idea, I ain't got no problem with our sleepin' arrangements." This time he looks almost a little uncomfortable, frowning silently to himself as he looks down at the sand below. When he clarifies, his voice is a little on the mumbly side. "I mean, it ain't the cushiest setup but I kinda like sleepin' on you. It's.. nice." "Yeah, I'm a fuckin' cream puff," Trib rumbles, hitching his side away from that nudge with a sharp exhalation that sounds like a laugh. "I'm ashamed to fuckin' go out without a shirt; 'swhy I'm all /dressed up/." He smooshes the panda playfully into Toru's face, wiggling it lightly before withdrawing it. The admission settles his silliness, though, and his mouth presses into a line in spite of the warmth in his eyes. "I like you sleepin' on me, too," he says. "I like the weight of you. It's..." he wrinkles his nose, attempting to come up with an adjective. "...nice," he finally agrees, his eyes crinkling. "But it'll be nice to do it in a proper bed." Smacking gently at the panda, Toru nonetheless keeps his head lowered /just/ a touch, a bit embarassed about expressing his /emotions/. But since he did sort of bring up the subject, he's willing enough to at least attempt to keep the discussion going, though for a moment it's just a weak, "Yeah. Nice." He's blushing at this point, and frees one hand from Trib's so that he can lift it up, running it over the back of his head nervously. "I'm just kinda... if you ain't noticed by now I ain't real good about talkin' about, like, /feelings/," he remarks, with a sort of half-smirk. "I ain't really ever... this is kinda the first time I've really /wanted/ to. I mean not like /now/ but... around you. I think I just don't really... I sorta try to avoid havin' 'em 'cause they make me feel all... like /this/." "Ain't nothin' wrong with havin' feelings," Trib rumbles, pulling Toru a little closer into his side. "I can see where it's tricky to talk about 'em, though." He wrinkles his nose, and waves the panda vaguely in the air. "I mean, if you ain't used to havin' a lot of people around that you can talk to about that shit, it'd be hard to suddenly start needin' to do it. Particularly if the person you want to do it with is a stranger." He grunts a surprised sort of noise. Like that empathetic thought had not occurred to him before this point. His eyebrows lift, and he falls silent for a long moment before he has his own question. "Make you feel like what" Toru grins a little at that, bumping against Trib's side and jokingly protests, "But I'm a badass, feelings are for wimps." He shakes his head a few times and rests his head against Trib's ribcage, listening to it for a quiet moment while he gathers his thoughts. "Make me feel like... confused, I guess? Or just... not really /sure/ about stuff." His hand drops to grip Trib's again, in a more proper handhold this time, fingers intertwining snugly as he folds his other hand back on the handrail. "And like... I don't mean to sound like a dick but before it was just 'cause of the whole... you bein' a guy thing, but now it's more like... it's still kinda weird bein' close to another /person/ at all. I guess confused isn't the right word, I guess I just don't really know what's going on in my head." Trib snorts at the joke, and rolls his eyes as Toru bumps him. His heartbeat is a loud thump against his ribcage, quickening just a bit when Toru rests his head on his chest. His hand rolls so the teenager can claim it, and he watches the intertwining with a small curl to his lips. He's quiet at Toru works through his thoughts, and hums lightly when he finishes. "You're freakin' out," he says. "A little bit. Sounds like." His embrace tightens, and he turns his head so that he can rest his chin on the top of Toru's head, vibrating the words through his skull. "You already told me you don't really get along with people," he says slowly. "So I imagine that it probably is freaky as all fuck to have someone who actually fuckin' /listens/ to you." He chuckles, and shakes his head gently. "'Cause that means you gotta actually /think/ about what you're sayin'." "That's kinda... that's kinda a lot of it, I think." Toru nods gently, being careful not to dislodge Trib's chin, and squeezes his hand gently. "Not the thinkin', though, I don't think about what I'm sayin' either ways." There's a little grin there, and he leans just a bit more heavily against the boxer, taking in a deep breath. For once he's actually finding the close contact more soothing than nerve-inducing, if nothing else, and he gently tilts his head up with another slight grin. "Speakin' of that, though, uh... remember how I was sayin' before about bein' aggressive but I couldn't really say what I meant?" His hand comes up from the rail and he slides it to hook up and around Trib's neck, or at least as far as he can reach it. "...I know you said you probably came on a little too strong but uh, yesterday morning was... kinda what I was thinkin' about." The hand gets squeezed again. "And I'm sayin' that while we're out /here/ just 'cause I'm still not sure it's the /smartest/ idea yet. I... I think I'm gettin' there. But I think I still need to kinda work some stuff out in my head first." Trib snorts a laugh at Toru's response, and shakes his head slightly. "You /do/ have a smart mouth," he rumbles, and he shifts his chin to plant a kiss in that messy hair. Maybe to take the sting out of his words, or maybe just because Toru's sort of kissable like that. When the hand loops around his neck, his complies with extra cuddling by enveloping the smaller man in his arms, countering the cooling air of the sea with his own heat. He listens in silence as Toru explains, and when the smaller man has finished, he remains quiet for a long minute, staring first at Toru then thoughtfully out over the water. "See, that's what's confusin' me," he says. "I mean, I /think/ I know what you're sayin', but it don't make no sense." He shifts his weight, suddenly uncomfortable, it seems, with his thoughts. "You want me to be aggressive, but there's still a /line/. " He takes a deep breath, and holds it for a moment. "An' that line gets awfully fuzzy when I get heated up like that." He looks down at the smaller man, the corners of his mouth tightening briefly. "An' I know it's the same for you, 'cause -- well, you got a dick." He smiles a bit, but his expression still remains serious. "I can be the aggressive guy you want," he says. "But I also don't want us to fuckin' spin ourselves into doin' something we can't undo, 'cause we got heated up before you got it all sorted." Toru shakes his head a few times. "Nah, you're right, I mean. I guess I'm kinda..." He shrugs a little helplessly, tilting his head up a bit. "Maybe I'm rushin' into things a little too much. Maybe it's just I like the /idea/ of the fuzzy line without so much uh.. crossin' it just yet." Closing his eyes, he takes a moment to leeeaaan gently back against Trib, nestling in al cozy-like. "I'm not /tryin'/ to be confusing but I guess when I'm not really sure what /I/ want but I go tellin' you anyway it... can't really do much 'cept get both of us all. Confused." He shakes his head gently, letting out a slow breath of air. "I kinda feel like I'm bein' a little ridiculous about the whole putting-it-off thing but you're just so damn /accomodatin'/," and this he remarks in a good-natured tone, looking up at Trib again with a little grin. "and I mean, it's not like I ain't enjoyin' the other stuff too.." "I get that," Trib grunts, his eyes crinkling. "The stuff past that line sounds real excitin' and fun, but it's also scary as shit." He waves the panda at the water, chuffing a bit. "The idea of what's on the other side sounds fun as hell, an' might even get your bone goin', but it's still /scary/, 'cause you don't know about it." There's a laugh that works its way out, then, and Trib pulls him in again. "Look, I /could/ be the kind of guy who just took what he wanted from you, an' fuck what you thought about it. But if I did that, neither of us would be happy." He's quiet a long moment, and when he speaks, his voice is low, warm, and firm.. "/You/ got to have control right now, so when you let me take it, it's a precious thing for both of us." Squeezing Trib's hand gently, Toru slowly turns around to face Trib, looking up at him seriously for a moment. "Trib, man, you're talkin' like we're gettin' hitched or somethin'." He grins a little, dropping his arms to wrap them around the broad chest in front of him, squeezing it firmly and resting his head on Trib's shoulder. "What are you, like, some kinda romantic?" The way he asks it doesn't suggest that he /minds/ in any way, granted. "I told you you were the cute one." And for a long moment he's content to just stand there quietly, leaning against Trib perhaps a bit more heavily than he had been before, eyes closed and overall just enjoying the moment. Trib chuckles at the accusation, but color creeps into his ears. "I don't fuck around," he says simply. "An' I don't do things half-assed. So, anyone that I'm datin' gets my full fuckin' commitment as long as it's workin'. That includes not abusin' their trust." His brow lowers as he considers the possibility of his being a romantic, and he wraps his arms around Toru almost absently (though no less warmly, it should be noted). "I ain't writin' you no fuckin' poetry," he growls, finally. "My handwriting is shit, an' all I know is limericks." Toru shakes his head a few times. "Hey man, all I got to compare you to is my boring-ass self. And compared to wakin' you up for takeout in the middle of the night, you're a goddamn romantic. Nothin' wrong with it, 's just what you are." Bringing a hand to Trib's front, he starts to idly trace along the stripes on his shirt, thoughtfully. Eventually he does think to speak up, "Actually speakin' of that there's a thing I, er, should probably mention, but I keep figurin' you already know even though I ain't /told/ ya..." His face reddens a little and so he looks down to his feet until that passes, gradually lifting it again to look up to Trib's face. "Is, uh, the reason I'm usually wearin' gloves is sometimes my thing kinda... when I'm really into... stuff... it's to keep from usin' it on you without meanin' to. I probably woulda, yesterday, if I weren't wearin' 'em." Trib snorts. "You're the first person in the world that's ever accused me of that," he says, his lips curling back into that lopsided grin. As fingers trace along his chest gets his gaze pointed downward, and he's quiet for a long moment after the confession. He doesn't seem surprised by it; maybe he /did/ figure that part out. "Uh..." he frowns as he breaks off to consider his question, and his brow lowers. "Is it just your /hands/ your power works through?" he asks carefully, color creeping back into his ears. "Cause if it ain't, that could be real fuckin' awkward at some point." Bringing that hand up to his mouth, Toru clears his throat, grinning perhaps a little /too/ widely at that question, and actually biting back a bit of a nervous laugh. "Well, uh. /Technically/ no, but for other parts I do have to be, uh, /tryin'/. Hands are kinda... default I guess? Other parts're I gotta actually be thinkin' about it and..." He shakes his head a few times, fighting back that grin, finally. Mostly. "And don't worry about it. Is what I mean. My /hands/ might go bony too but, uh, I can usually tell if it's gonna happen so I'll make sure not to be holdin' anything if it does." He coughs again, there, face suddenly bright red again, and he just as suddenly finds the ground that much more interesting to look at. "Er anyway so. Like I said I figured-- maybe you worked it out but I wanted to like, make sure. So it wouldn't be a problem." Trib smirks at the unintentional entendre, and his eyebrows tick upwards. But, he is apparently in too good a mood to give Toru too much shit about it. "It ain't gonna be a problem for me," he rumbles, using his arm to scoop Toru closer to him again. "As long as you can undo it, if we have any kind of..." he bites his lip, and it's pretty clear he's biting off some sort of joke. "Accidents." Then his humor fades, and he pulls back to frown down at the smaller man. "You can /un/do that shit, yeah?" Toru grins a little lopsidedly as he gradually looks back up again, and pulls a hand up so that he can brush it through his hair a little awkwardly. "Oh, yeah, if I /couldn't/ we wouldn't be having this conversation." He shakes his head a few times. "But no it ain't no thang it's just... one of those things that if it happens, uh, while I'm, er... otherwise... distracted.." And here come the red cheeks again; he doesn't look away this time, though, but does start to stammer a little bit. "Th--that is.. I mean I just.. it'd be hard to take care of. Then. Is all. And it kinda-- it doesn't really /hurt/ when I'm doing it, or maybe I'm just used to it, but it itches a lot. Like a scab kinda." "I know what it feels like for your skin to change," Trib rumbles sympathetically. "You ought to try turning into cement or brick, sometime. That shit is like pushin' sand through your fuckin' skin from the inside." He smiles tightly, and he leans down to steal a kiss -- right there in PUBLIC. He might even lift Toru a bit to facilitate this. "But let's just be clear -- I prefer gettin' my boners the old fashioned way." Toru is, in fact, just a /touch/ hesitant about returning the kiss (in public!), but ultimately does relax a little bit and.. well, he isn't gonna /fight/ it. He just doesn't get quite as involved as he usually might. When Trib does pull away and make that remark, though, Toru can't hold back a groan, rolling his eyes and nudging the man in the side. "God /dammit/, I was /tryin'/ to avoid that," sighs, joking!, though he does his best to look. A little serious. Tiny bit. "But anyway, at least your thing don't like, trigger outta nowhere. I don't see you eatin' lo mein and turnin' into noodles." Trib wrinkles his nose at the nudge, and lifts a shoulder. "Someone was gonna say it, eventually," he says. "Now it's done, an' we don't never got to make that joke again." See? He's /efficient/. The serious face gets another smirk, and the big man dips his shoulders, a bit. "It don't work that way," he says. "I don't turn into just /anything/ I eat. It's mostly stuff that...um." He wrinkles his nose. "It's stuff like rubber, an' cement, an' metal an' things that I can change into." He reaches out to bounce the panda on the wooden railing. "Like, I could take a few bites of this, an' turn my skin to wood, but I couldn't go an' get a corndog an' turn into corndogs." He chuckles, a bit amused by /that/ image. "But there's time I can't control it," he admits. "If I eat somethin' with a lot of different materials, I got no choice. I gotta turn into one of them, an' I don't get no choice about what it is." He wags the panda in Toru's face again, grinning. "So I ain't exactly unsympathetic to your problems, Bones. I just don't got /all/ of 'em." "Well, it ain't really a /problem/, it's just a thing I gotta like... accomodate. And that's easy enough." Toru holds up a hand, wiggling his fingers demonstratively.. then frowns a little. "Okay, that woulda worked better if I was actually wearin' 'em today. But you get what I mean." He sticks his tongue out a little, then leans back against the railing, pulling himself up so that he can sit on top, and actually brings himself /almost/ to eye-level with Trib. "Oh, hey, I can actually look at you from up here." Grinning, he pats the rail with one hand a few times, nodding thoughtfully. "So pretty much just like... building materials and stuff like that? That is some weird shit, bro. I mean, at least bone armor makes some kinda like... turtley sense." "What you wasn't lookin' before?" Trib asks, shifting his weight and pushing Toru's knees apart so he can lean in and wrap his arms around the teenager's waist lazily. "I ain't really /tried/ to turn into anything else," he admits. "There's stuff that's fuckin' fragile as shit, even though it looks tough, an' after my hand...." he wrinkles his nose, and frowns. "Maybe it's my body's way of protectin' me," he guesses. "I can't ever starve, 'cause I can eat anything, an' turnin' into concrete or metal is pretty good, as far as defenses go." He smiles, then, and tips his head to one side. "I can do bony armor," he points out. "Bone is mostly mineral." Toru smirks. "I was lookin', but now I got all sortsa new angles," he points out. Arms are brought up to loop around Trib's neck, his head tucked off to one side to rest it against his own arm. "And well shucks, I guess you can just do everything." He actually might sound just a /touch/ jealous about that fact, and even tenses up a little bit, but even still he's leaning against Trib's chest if for no other reason than to keep from falling backwards. "Though I can't imagine bones tastin' all that good. Or.. like much of anything, I guess, thinkin' about it." There's a slight, thoughtful frown here. "So your teeth don't break or nothin', or do you have to like, swallow tiny pieces?" "I can do a lot," Trib agrees, and there's little teasing in his voice when he says it. "I don't know about /everything/, though." As anchors go, he's a pretty good one, reducing the chance of falling by a large percentage. Still, when Toru leans forward, his arms tighten around his waist just a bit. "I don't taste much of anything," he admits. "Some stuff that's got real strong flavor in it, I can taste, an' some wood. But most stuff is just bland-tastin', unless it's real spicy or got a lot of flavor to it." He shows off his teeth when they're asked about, straight and white and strong-looking. "I ain't ever had no cavity," he says proudly. "An' I ain't never broke a tooth. It stumps the /fuck/ out of some fight doctors; 'specially when I go against some fuckin' palooka who likes to work the face." "Well, that's kinda shitty," Toru remarks, regarding food flavors. "On the other hand I guess it makes eatin' out easy since you probably ain't gonna find somethin' you don't like." There's a bit of a nod, there, and that comment about teeth piques a bit of curiosity. "You don't like.. when you're fightin', you don't tell 'em you're a mutant, do ya? I mean not that it matters to me either way but like, would they make you.. I guess I mean would it be /allowed/ or would they kick you out?" His head is tilted off to one side, curiously. "I don't even know if there's laws about that, it seems like they go back and forth all the time on that kinda thing." "I like Indian food," Trib says with a grin. "That shit is the bomb. An' Mexican food. But yeah. I ain't really picky about it." He wrinkles his nose. "On the other hand, it also makes me shit at recommendin' restaurants, so that clam place might not be as awesome as I'm sellin' it." His eyebrows lift. "They /do/ got pretty fuckin' awesome cocktail sauce, though. I know that." At the question, he snorts, and color works into his ears. "Oh, fuck no," he rumbles. "I ain't about to admit that to 'em." He lifts a shoulder, and shifts uncomfortably. With an awkward squeeze, his arms slacken so he can step back, a shadow falling over his face. "I don't really want to talk about that, though," he says in an odd voice. His hands come up to Toru's, unwrapping them gently. "Let's go get some saltwater taffy or somethin'." "Huh?" Toru's head tilts again, /confused/ for a moment, but that look is enough to shut him up after a moment. "I'm not askin' what, but I, uh, didn't say anything wrong, did I?" He looks concerned, but that's as far as he'll press the matter. However the question is answered, he'll then push himself up a little on the rail, lifting one hand to whirl it in a 'turn around' sort of gesture. "How about why don'tcha carry me on your back? I'll hold the bear." And, as if to attempt to convince him further, "Come on, I weigh like nothing." "Naw, you didn't say nothin' wrong." Trib shakes his head, and his frown works slowly into a thoughtful line. "It's just some shit I ain't ready to tell you about, yet. Not till I get a few things sorted out." He doesn't elaborate further. He meets the request with a small smirk, before he turns and backs up to the rail, holding the bear over his shoulder. "Hop on," he says, sounding like his mood is already starting to lighten, "and don't fuckin' strangle me." Toru nods a few times, quietly. "I get that. I just-- y'know. Don't really like seein' you upset." Which may be why he suggested the piggyback ride. Or maybe he just wanted the ride. Either way, he takes the bear and grips it tightly in one hand, bringing both arms over Trib's shoulder - notably /not/ around his neck, though in this position he does have to grip a bit more tightly - and legs wrap around his sides. "If I'm not supposed to strangle you then what the hell else am I gonna do up here?" he asks, a hint of obviously fake annoyance in his tone. Trib rumbles something that's very laugh-like, rippling his back with the sound. "You can enjoy the view," he answers simply, looping his hands around Toru's thighs and BOOSTING him higher on his back. His grip is firm and secure, and he doesn't seem to even feel the weight as he moves away from the railing and out into the crowd of pedestrians. The sight of the two men gets a lot of smiles, and a few shaking heads, but Trib's size is enough to keep any disapproving looks fairly shadowed and furtive. As they move along, Trib turns his head to speak over his shoulder. "You ain't gettin' tired or nothin', are you?" he asks. "'Cause we can always cut out an' head back to my place." For his part, Toru either doesn't /notice/ any such looks, or doesn't mind them. Given that he usually goes out of his way to dress and act like a (tiny babby) thug, he's probably used to dirty looks by now anyway. He does have to shift about /just/ a bit to get himself in comfortable position - it has very likely been years since the last time he's gotten a piggyback ride, and they aren't /quite/ as comfortable as he remembers them. Not that he's complaining, though, given that even if it isn't /soft/, it's still a nice ride. "Y'know," he answers, forcing a very obviously fake yawn. "I was fine until you asked that but now alla sudden I can't keep my eyes open." To illustrate that point, he droops his head a little, resting it, a bit awkwardly, on Trib's shoulder. Eyes closed, of course. "Not sure if I can make it." "Oh, no," Trib rumbles, his own voice full of mock-concern as he looks over his shoulder. "That ain't good. Too bad I ain't got super-speed, so I could make it before you're gone completely." He chuffs a laugh, and uses his hands to joggle Toru as he picks up his stride. "Okay, home we go," he grunts, veering towards a nearby food stand. "We're still getting taffy, though."