Logs:More Time For Nice
| More Time For Nice | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2022-05-08 I miss having some time set aside to just be -- normal with someone. |
| Location | |
It's a glorious spring day -- sunny, a little crisp -- and that means a great time to work on the constantly evolving infrastructure sprouting up around Riverdale. In one yard, its picket fence has fallen recent victim to a high powered sparring match and a crew of volunteers are finding out that building fences is a lot more difficult than it looks; in another, folks are setting up a cluster of outdoor showers and composting toilets to supplement the very over-strained bathrooms in the actual mansions, and over in one spacious front yard DJ is surrounded with tools and the lumber and soil that will, eventually, be a new set of raised garden beds. Eventually. It's slow going with one good hand and he is, at the moment, taking a hot chocolate break, perched on a newly erected wooden border which has yet to be filled with dirt. His jeans and grey checked flannel are lightly sprinkled with sawdust, and he's giving a very critical look to the remainder of the wood. Kitty’s contributions today has primarily been to be the Friend with a Car, transporting supplies too bulky to carry or teleport up, down, and across the city to Freaktown for the ongoing building projects. Her shirt (a red tee with “if this shirt is blue, you’re going too fast!” printed across the chest) seems permanently creased along the where the seatbelt pulled it in place, her skinny jeans and running shoes lightly dusted with soil from moving things. She’s just leaving the shower-and-toilet build crew now, bottle of water in one hand and pulling her hair out of a loose ponytail with the other, as she passes DJ’s project. Stops. Hesitates before speaking. “It’s looking good,” she offers, lifting her water bottle towards DJ. “I think. I don’t know what it would look like if it was going bad.” There’s an anxious sort of smile on her face. “Is it? Are things? How are things. Going.” The tension that flits through DJ's shoulders is almost too quick to catch. By the time he glances up from his contemplation of lumber his smile is easy enough. He glances to the empty bed behind him, then back to Kitty. "I think if it were going bad this thing would fall over when I try to sit on it." He raps at the garden bed he's sitting on with plastic knuckles. He's slow with his next sip of cocoa, venturing once he lowers it: "How 'bout you? Things --" He lifts one shoulder in a small shrug. "Okay?" “They’re going some sort of way, I guess?” Kitty shrugs, the hand with water bottle dropping to her side as she draws closer. “A little chaotic, but when are things not? I keep busy. You’ve been keeping busy up here, I heard.” Her eyes flick first to the garden bed, then to the plastic hand DJ knocked against it, then up to DJ’s face. “I miss our movie nights. I’m sorry about how the last one just…” Kitty bites her lip, eyes wide and sad when they lift back up to DJ. “…turned into, like, all the possible awful.” "Yeah, it's been getting more and more crowded around here. Have the Mayor to thank for that, I guess." DJ glances away in the direction of one of the other work parties, his brows creasing. The frown remains when he looks back to Kitty. "I do, too." Quietly. "I just figured after the last one you wouldn't..." He shakes his head quick, eyes dropping to his cocoa. "I'm sorry. I think I've upset a lot of people, hanging around -- his old life. Vec... Leo's just the first one where that turned. So dangerous." “You can’t apologize for existing where he did.” Kitty is firm on this point. “It was my fault — not warning you, not warning Leo, not thinking, everything with D— I was a shitty hostess and a shitty friend trying to just — force the pieces together.” She brings her hands together in front of her, fingers pressing tight against the water bottle, to illustrate this point. “I probably would have apologized sooner if I hadn’t, uh, had rabies, because then it was rabies and then I just didn’t see you? And that. Has sucked.” She pulls her bottom lip in under her teeth watching DJ's expression. "I'm Mormon," DJ answers with a very small smile, "I could apologize for existing." He lifts a hand to rub at his neck, fingers unconsciously tracing over two faded puncture scars there. "The rabies -- wasn't great." His hand drops to his knee. Squeezes there slowly. "Sorry. I could have reached out, I just -- thought that you wouldn't want..." He trails off, shaking his head quick. "It is nice, though. To see you. I miss having some time set aside to just be -- normal with someone." Kitty’s face cracks into a small smile, too, though it comes a touch pained. “Okay, maybe you could. But you don’t have to? You shouldn’t have to.” Her head shakes, too. “And I thought you wouldn’t want. But. Someone told me a little bit ago to stop presuming and assuming so much, and — I thought our regularly scheduled normalcy sessions were nice. There should be more time for nice.” Looks up, eyes wide. “Would you? Want to start again?” "More time for nice. I could get behind that." DJ's next smile comes a little easier. "Yeah! I mean -- yeah. I mean it'd be really nice to start again. I mean... thanks." He picks his thermos back up from where it's pinned between his knees, restlessly popping the lid and closing it again. "Please tell me the rest of your year has been better than rabies." “‘Better than rabies’ is a pretty low bar to clear.” There’s relief in her growing smile, an easing of tension in Kitty’s shoulders and her grip around the water bottle. “It’s up and down— some days your friends are being arrested, some days you get to see your boyfriend, some days you just stare at data and try to remember why you’re still in school when the world is so — ” Kitty waves her bottle back at the street, at the world outside Freaktown. “That’s why movies, you know? It’s an escape from thinking about — the everything going on.” Her tone is teasing when she adds — “I’ll make sure to pick something so ridiculous you can’t help but forget about the rabies.” "What are we fighting for if not for people to be free to live their lives whole and safe? Just be a victory for the bigots in charge if everyone -- dropped out of school or gave up their..." DJ trails off here, head tilting quizzically and his smile tentatively curling a little wider. "Wait, boyfriend? Is that -- that's new, right?" Kitty’s checks flush pink, but she’s still smiling through the embarrassment. “Just a couple months, yeah. It’s — nice. Good.” Her smile falters. “Bright spot in the middle of everything else. Maybe — when he’s ready, and if--when you start seeing someone, and if--when it’s safe — double date movie night?” She gives a sheepish shrug. “I like to have fantasy plans almost as much as I like solid ones.” "Oh, that's great!" DJ sounds earnestly delighted at this news. "I'm so glad for you. I --" His smile falters at the subject of him starting to see anyone, hand reflexively curling inward so that he can run his thumb against the flat steel band adorning his ring finger. When he speaks again it's wistful, his expression far away. "That -- might be -- nice." He smiles brighter, setting his thermos and melancholy thoughts both aside and getting back to his feet. "If you want to help me with solid plans, I could definitely use a hand on these other beds. No experience necessary." | |
