Logs:Doing Quiet

Doing Quiet
Dramatis Personae Jake, Max Kinney
In Absentia	2019-06-21 "I'll be so shhh."
Location <NYC> Kinney Apartment - Williamsburg
Jinglejingle. Shunkthunk. Creak, chhhnk. Thump. Shuffle crrrk. Bzzz. The darkened living room is filled with the sounds of someone Trying Very Hard not to make noise, and failing at it spectacularly. Max's steps are a little bit wobblesome as he picks his way into the apartment, fetching up at an unsteady angle against the back of the couch for a moment to get his balance and check a message from his buzzing phone. A wan glow from the screen illuminates him; rumpled plaid shirt but still-neat triple bun on the back of his head. He lifts his hand, pressing his closed fist to his mouth to stifle a snort at whatever he reads on his phone. Click. The pale wash of glow also casts a faint light over the silhouette of another man leaned up in the doorway of the adjacent bedroom. Jake has been holding his Glock pointed at the bumbling shadow through the apartment, but lowers it as the phone lights Max up. He is barely dressed, sleepy-eyed in his boxer shorts. He lifts his hand, pressing the back of it to his mouth to stifle a yawn. And ask, plaintive, "Dude, could you be any louder?" Max looks up, wide-eyed. Scrunches his eyes shut, tips his whole self over the back of the couch to flop out on it, shoes and all. "'zat a challenge?" He drops the phone onto his chest, and tips his head back over the arm of the sofa, looking upside-down at the other man. One finger goes to his lips. "I'll shhh. I'll be so shhh. Like a fucking mouse, I'll have shhh'd so much you won't even --" Bzzz, says his phone again. He snatches it up quick, snorts at it again. "Shit, bro, you'll never believe what Lennon -- oh." He presses his finger to his lips again. "Oh no we're doing quiet." "You're doing quiet," Jake groans. "I'm doing sleep. Or I was." He vanishes into the dark of his bedroom. When he returns it is, at least, gun-free. He shuffles across the room to the kitchen, getting himself a glass of water. "Some of us have work in the morning." "I have work in the morning." Max huffs this. Highly indignant! His lips smack as he settles himself more comfortably on the couch, dragging a pillow beneath his head. "Yo, s'long as you're up. You mind grabbing me another -- uh --" He's streeetching a hand out in the direction of the kitchen, blearily making grabbyhands motions in the air. Jake sucks his cheek against his teeth, head shaking, but that doesn't stop him from tugging open the fridge. Getting a can of KCBC ("Superhero Sidekicks", says the beer), cracking it open as he wanders over to set it down on the table by the couch. "I am so serious about the quiet. I'll sic the hellbeast on you if I hear a peep." His hand drops to Max's head, ruffling carelessly at the PERFECTLY coiffed buns on his way back to his bedroom. "What a terrible thr-- tss." Max has been reaching for the beer, but the hair rumpling pulls him up short. He sits up just enough so that he can undo the top of the three buns. Run his fingers through his long hair, carefully tug it back into place and tie it neatly back off. Only then does he settle back down on the couch. So quietly. Maybe slurping a littttle bit loudly at his beer. The bedroom door swings open. A huge German Shepherd pads out, snuffling briefly at the door when it closes behind her. When it's clear she isn't going to be let back into the room, she turns her attention to Max instead. Her tail swishes in the air as she pads over to the couch, leaping up onto it to plop herself down right atop Max's chest, heedless of her large bulk. Her tail thumps once, twice, as she settles in comfortably, and drops her head down with a yawn. A choplick. Zzz.