ArchivedLogs:Rememberated
| Rememberated | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia
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2014-02-14 Valentine's surprises. |
| Location
<NYC> 311 {Trib} - Sunrise Apartments - Clinton | |
For a room in the Sunrise building, this apartment is pretty well-furnished. There isn't much in the way of art - though on one wall, there are the beginnings of what appears to be a collage of articles; most boxing, although there are a few news stories and glossy physique images from muscle magazines. Against one wall is a plush brown couch is wedged between matching end tables, with a matching ottoman seated in front of it, and a blue throw blanket draped over the back. Set diagonally from that, next to a brass floor lamp, is a matching brown recliner - clearly, the three are part of a set. Decidedly /not/ matching that furniture is another couch on an opposing wall with stripes in varying widths in shades of blue, green, teal and brown; this one is a bit cheaper looking, with canvas upholstery and bare wood arms. Under it all, a mottled brown-and-ivory rug covers the hardwood floor. The only other wall with only space has a set of hooks screwed into it, which usually has a blue street bicycle hanging from it, and a skateboard leaning against the wall on the floor beneath it. The whole living room feels a bit cramped, though the relative lack of clutter keeps it from feeling too over-crowded. Through the small, dingy kitchen is the entrance to the bedroom, where a new-looking platform holds an oversized bed; the only piece of furniture in there. The door to the bathroom is closed, but it's likely stocked with bathroom-appropriate accoutrements.
Once all that is set up, Toru heads out for a while, hitting a few nearby restaurants. When he does return, he's just a touch overburdened by paper bags and cardboard boxes, just few enough that he still has the dexterity required to get the apartment door unlocked so that he can sneak back in and get things set up. Toru /should/ have had plenty of time for sneakiness. By now, Trib's routine as he prepares for his fight is pretty predictable. But, a few minutes after Toru's return, the boxer himself is pushing through the door. His thick grey sweatpants, worn under a pair of equally thick black shorts, ride up just a bit to reveal the snow-flecked wool socks shoved into his sneakers. He doesn't speak as he enters, peeling off his dark grey hoodie to reveal a similarly dark sweatshirt. The hoodie gets carried towards the bedroom, although Trib pauses as he becomes aware of the unusually high level of activity in the apartment. The various Valentine's things set out get a slow rise of the boxer's eyebrow, but he continues silently into the bedroom. There's the sound of clothing rustling, and a moment later, Trib re-emerges and pads naked into the bathroom. The sound of the shower is next, and the sound of heavy feet hitting the bottom of the tub. Toru is either too engrossed in what he's doing to say anything, or too used to the routine to think anything he says might make a difference. Either way, he's still working on laying out the day's bounty - which consists, primarily, of a very large breakfast spread. It's mostly plastic packages whose contents get moved to plates, the teen going back-and-forth between the table and kitchen several times, but eventually it works out to two plates of pancakes, one serving much larger than the other, and each with side-plates of bacon, scrambled eggs and hash browns, with added sausage and biscuits on the heftier side of the table. And to the other side is a pair of cupcakes, each with pink frosting and heart-shaped sprinkles. Once everything is laid out, the teen finally starts to strip off his outerwear, the hoodie tossed on top of Trib's in the bedroom, though after a moment's thought he does eventually change out of his clothes entirely, favoring a new pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt in a blue jewel-tone. He does lean into the bathroom long enough to helpfully note, "I got breakfast," before heading back to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. The grunt from behind the shower curtain is non-commital in response to Toru's comment, although Trib's shadow turns a bit. There's a bit of a hiss, and the shadow returns to its regular position, scrubbing a bit /faster/, perhaps. It's only a few more minutes before the shower shuts off, and another couple after that before Trib emerges from the bathroom to pad into the kitchen. He's got a pair of loose-fitting shorts on and not much else. A towel is draped over his right shoulder, and his damp hair is hanging in his eyes as he drags a comb through it. "Good run this mornin'," he rumbles. "That fuckin' snowfucker is gone. Left me his hat, though." He gestures towards the (new!) hatrack by the door, where a red top hat with a purple paisley band hangs next to the ten-gallon hat. "I'm gettin' a regular fuckin' /collection/." He seems proud of that fact, pushing his hair back and out of his eyes with a smug sort of grin. He looks less smug as he looks over Toru's handiwork -- really absorbing it, this time as he walks towards the table and the teenager near it. "You been busy," he notes with a hard crinkle of his eyes. "What's the occasion?" Toru sips his water casually, giving Trib a long, slow look with one eyebrow raised, then finally answers, "Well, that'll make your birthday easier." Hats, that is. "But don't even get me started on the goddamn snowmen." He shakes his head a few times, takes another sip, then holds up his glass demonstratively. "You thirsty? I figured you'd probably be hungry after your run." Without waiting for an answer, he fishes out another glass, filling it with water, refilling his own, and carrying them both over to the table. And there he just flops into his chair, on the side with the smaller portions, and gestures vaguely in dim response to the last question. "No reason, just figured it bein' all winter and depressing and shit it'd be nice to do somethin'.. nice." Toru finally cracks a smile at that last comment, with a short little shake of his head. "Sometimes I like to pamper my little man, there ain't nothin' wrong with that." Trib chuffs a laugh at Toru's comments, and wrinkles his nose. "Just don't get me nothin' /fuzzy/," he rumbles, rolling his neck. "I hate them fuzzy pimp hats. They look dumb as shit." He nods at the question about water, moving to his own chair as Toru gets another glass. He eyes the stack of pancakes for a minute before he snags up a piece of bacon to munch on it. Toru's answer to his question gets a hard, lopsided grin, and the boxer pokes his tongue into his lower lip, digging at it thoughtfully. Then he snorts. "'Little man'," he echoes, and wags his piece of bacon at the teenager with a hard glare. "You're askin' for it, pup." Now his grin is /wide/ and razor-edged. "You should be beggin'." /That/ remark elicits a swift, if /gentle/, kick to one of Trib's shins, Toru responding by sticking his tongue out. "I'll do the beggin' when you start bringin' /me/ breakfast. 'Til then you gotta wait 'til later." Perhaps a bit abruptly, then, he scoots his chair in a bit closer to the table, bringing his legs up to rest bare feet up on Trib's thighs. He picks up a piece of his own bacon, munching on it thoughtfully for a moment, but once he finishes it up, he starts in on another, taking brief sips of water between each bite. "I know you hate it when I get all introspective, but-- and this ain't me gettin' all depressin'-- I been thinkin' about maybe, uh.." There's a frown there as the momentum abruptly leaves Toru's question, the teen actually looking embarassed about whatever it is he was going to say, but he does manage to get it out without any prodding. "...I ain't done anything more than just thinkin' but I been. /Thinkin'/. About maybe goin' to school. For somethin', I dunno really what." Trib grunts when Toru kicks him, although it's more out of habit than any actual pain. "Hey, I feed you all the damned time," he protests, taking up his glass to take a big swig of water. "An' you /love/ it." He picks up a pancake, rolling it around a couple of pieces of bacon. This arrangement makes more sense when he reaches under the table to wrap his left hand around the bare feet, stroking lightly along Toru's instep with his thumb. The stroking pauses when Toru leads into his new subject, and the boxer narrows one eye at the younger man for a long moment. Then, slowly, his thumb resumes its movement, and he shrugs as he takes a bite of his pancake roll. "If you wanna, go for it," he rumbles with a firm nod. "We ain't hurtin' right now, an' you got the fuckin' time." Toru tenses up a little but when that stroking stops, chewing on his lip for a moment before replying, "I mean, it ain't like we gotta make a decision today or nothin', I was just thinkin'... I mean, my savings're gonna run out eventually and I ain't really in love with the idea of you havin' to support my broke ass." He shakes his head a few more times, crunching on another bacon strip before he rolls up a pancake in imitation of Trib's own eating arrangement, minus the meat. "I just-- wanted to see what you thought about it before I went and thought.. more. About it." There's a frown, there, as he chews on a bite of that pancake, eventually washing it down with another sip of water and leaning back in his chair, relinquishing a bit more leg in Trib's direction. "So, uh, anyway, I didn't mean to get all heavy, I just figured.. with you havin' that fight comin' up and today bein' Friday I was gettin' all future-thinkin' is all." Trib snorts a bit, and releases Toru's foot so he can grab a fork to shove eggs into his pancake thing. "/We/ ain't got to decide nothin'," he drawls, pointing with the eggy fork. "I ain't goin' to college, an' I ain't the one who's got to decide it. It's your fuckin' brain -- if you want to get more schoolin', then fuckin' do it." He doesn't sound overly annoyed as he speaks; he's just laying out facts. "I done a lot for my career without consultin' you. I ain't got the right to tell you what you can an' can't do." He pauses, and that razor-sharp grin returns briefly. "At least with your clothes on." He drops his fork when Toru's leg pushes into his lap, and curls his hand around the teenager's calf, strumming lightly along the fine hair there. "Friday," he echoes, his brow jerking into a knot for half a second. "People do a lot of future-thinkin' on Fridays," he agrees, and leans back in his chair. "'Specially when it's fuckin'..." he narrows one eye. "Arbor Day? That's the one with the fuckin' hearts, an' the little guy with the pot of gold?" It's impossible to tell if he's serious or not; his face is mask of curiosity. "You're fuckin' insufferable, you know that?" Toru eventually lets out a long-suffering /sigh/, rolling his eyes and tilting his head back in as exaggerated a motion as he can manage. "Swear to god I got no idea why I put up with your ass sometimes." But! He also doesn't answer the question at first, instead focusing on digging into his eggs, putting back most of them while he works something out in his brain, his face twisted up into a look that Trib, by now, would know as Toru's Thinkin' Face. Once he's done with the eggs he starts stabbing at his pancakes, tearing them but not actually /eating/ them, as his mental gears slowly grind into place. "Maybe," he finally begins, thoughtfully, "it's 'cause you ain't been with a girl before, but 'round this time of year there's a thing where guys're supposed to get their girlfriends presents and pink sugar hearts and shit." He gestures to the cupcakes as he says that last part, then looks up at Trib with his head cocked to one side, the /hint/ of a smirk playing on his lips. "/So/ I went and got some presents and pink sugar hearts and shit." "You love it," Trib declares, unmoved by sighs or shows of exasperation. In fact, he's back to looking smug, even as Toru falls into thoughtful silence. Finished with his pancake thing, he moves on to the rest of the stack, picking it apart with his fingers and tunneling down through it. When Toru starts speaking again, he looks back up, and his eyes squinch in a warm sort of expression. "You think gay guys don't fuckin' celebrate Valentine's Day?" he rumbles, wrinkling his nose. "I'm just givin' you shit, pup. You know that." He reaches over to the cupcakes, and peels a heart from the frosting. "But you're right that I ain't done it before." Toru's tongue comes out again, and he gives just a light jerk of one leg to suggest a kick, though it doesn't really come out as one. "Of course I don't think that, but it's like pullin' teeth tryin' to get you to be sentimental, you goddamn monster." He's still grinning as he says this, though he's only making vague eye contact; looking more at his food than at Trib, he only steals occasional glances up at the other man, the tip of his tongue peeking out from between his teeth. "I know you don't like bein' all feelings and whatever but apparently I'm a fuckin' romantic, so deal with it." Trib snorts. "Bein' sentimental is for pussies," he drawls, and his grin is toothy when he looks over at Toru. "An' pups who got a lot of time on their fuckin' hands." He lifts his right shoulder, the towel sliding a bit as he shrugs. "An' I got feelin's," he protests, frowning over the table. "I just don't wear 'em out where everyone can see 'em." He smirks, and jerks the towel from his shoulder. "I wear 'em /here/." On his upper arm, swimming towards his shoulder, are two abstract koi fish -- one big black one and a smaller, orange one tucked into the side of the larger, their fancy tails draggong over each other's. Delicate blue and black lines resembling waves in Japanese art circle the fish. It looks /really/ recent, but fairly well-healed. Toru looks about ready to shoot back a sarcastic remark, but that sudden /reveal/ is enough to have him shutting his mouth pretty abruptly. And he just stares, /hard/, at that tattoo for a long minute, his face blank of any expression, before finally - with deliberate slowness - asking, "Is that real?" Only that question apparently is enough to kick his brain back into gear, because soon enough he just starts muttering, "Oh jeez, oh jeez, oh jeez.." and without another word, he pulls his legs back, pushing himself to his feet and walking to the bedroom, still repeating that litany. He isn't in there for very long before exiting again, though, but his return trajectory has him coming up /behind/ Trib, wrapping his arms around the boxer's neck in what /would/ be a hug if it wasn't.. just a touch uncomfortably /tight/. "You know those things are /permanent/, right? Fuckin'.. /Tribulation Jones/, jesus /christ/, why would you go and do that?" "I fuckin' hope it's real," Trib says, looking down at the tattoo with a bit of pride that reflects in his voice. "It hurt more'n I thought it was gonna. Guy did a good job, didn't he? I found a fuckin' picture on the internet and he --" The boxer trails off at Toru's sudden withdrawal, and there's a flicker of something...less hard in the boxer's eyes as he watches the teenager go. Pursing his lips, he sags back in his chair, and it's clear he's replaying the last five minutes in his head, the index finger of his half-hand bobbing back and forth as he marks the conversation. When Toru returns, the boxer's finger curls into his fist, and he watches the teenager until he moves out of his line of sight. There's a small tensing at the sudden, tight embrace, his muscles going rigid under Toru's light frame. "It's Retribution," he growls, his brow lowering. "An' I got it..." he pauses, his mouth clamping shut as he considers. "'Cause I don't say it. Now you can just look at this an' /know/." "Trib.." Toru murmurs, his grip eventually loosening as he teen buries his face in Trib's moist hair, eyes closed, just /breathing/ for a long few moments. Finally he concedes, "Okay. If that's how you have to do it." There's no edge in his tone, just the sincere sentiment, and his grip loosens even further as he slowly just slides to the floor. He sits there in a little slumped pile for a minute, but while he's down there he snakes around Trib's chair, pushing the table away from him before crawling up into the man's lap, draping his torso across, legs dangling over the arm of the chair. "I just have a hard time readin' you, you know? You don't really do gestures or nothin' then one day you come home and you got a fuckin' /tattoo/ and I gotta readjust where I'm comin' at things from. Gimme yer hand," he adds, his own hand fishing around in search of one. "I ain't mad, just a little freaked out." Trib grunts as Toru capitulates, and his frame relaxes as the teenager slides away. He frowns when there's no movement or sound behind him, but just when he shifts to turn and check, there's a Toru climbing into his lap. The big man shifts automatically, gathering the younger man in his arms and rumbling in warm amusement. "I ain't so hard to figure out," he demurs, lifting his half-hand obligingly and twining his two fingers in Toru's. He's quiet for a long moment, watching their clasped hands thoughtfully. "I figure, however long we go...this has been pretty fuckin' important in both our lives. One of them things that won't never go away. Like the cages, but in a good way." He smiles a bit, and leans down to brush his hair in Toru's face. "An' good shit needs to be...whatayacallit. Rememberated." Toru grips that hand firmly, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss the spot where the fingers are missing, holding it there for a moment before he just nods. "I guess when you put it that way..." He smiles up at Trib, a little sheepishly, dropping clasped hands down to his chest. "It ain't like I'm in any hurry to get rid of ya, it's just... imagine if I'd came home with a pair of weddin' rings and a fuggin'... whaddayacallit. Wedding Contract. That's pretty much how I felt for a minute." However, he does seem to think that that thinking is about as ridiculous as it sounds, because he adds, a touch defensively, "I got strong opinions about tattoos." Trib huffs at the comparison, and shakes his head. "It ain't /exactly/ the same," he says. "But I figure I know what you're gettin' at. I just wanted this." He wrinkles his nose, exhaling deeply. "But, I guess if you don't like it, I can go out an' find you somethin' else." He doesn't sound overly serious about that, but he shifts his weight as if he's about to stand. Toru's defensive confession gets a grunt of a laugh. "You don't fuckin' say. Wish I'd fuckin' known that." "It just woulda been nice if you gave me a heads up instead of just bein' like, ba-kow! Lifetime commitment!" Toru notes, sticking his tongue out yet again, but now he's happy enough just curling up on Trib's lap, resting his head on the armrest, and letting out a little, comfortable 'mmf'. "It is nice," he concedes. "Even if I ain't that little." Curling up just a bit more, he wraps one arm around Trib's torso, burying his face in the man's abdomen to mumble, "Go ahead and keep eating, I'm just gonna sleep a little more. You gotta keep your strength up." | |
