reggie 🌿 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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stateofdecay2024-12-11 07:48 am
toughleaf) wrote in stateofdecay2024-12-11 07:48 am
Blythe joins him on the cot, which is too small for two middle-aged men to fit comfortably. But Blythe has been in some real cramped quarters for the last few years, he can manage.
"Good." He curls himself around Niko, burying his face in his hair. "He doesn't need to know everything we do."
"Good." He curls himself around Niko, burying his face in his hair. "He doesn't need to know everything we do."
"Yeah, he's not Santa Claus," Niko chuckles, mostly to himself. He lets out a contented sigh, feeling cozy and protected in Blythe's arms.
"I'm just gonna rest my eyes for a second," he yawns.
"I'm just gonna rest my eyes for a second," he yawns.
"Take as many seconds as you need. I'll be right here when they're all rested."
Like all dads who are merely "resting their eyes", Niko is fast asleep as soon as those lids are shut.
"...'m still worried about you finding anything involving fainting romantic, honestly, but guess diff'rent strokes for diff'rent folks, yeah?" Who is he to judge? Who is he to do anything but volley back what had become rather much the norm for them?
"No, no, no. I can play an instrument or two, but you won't catch me up there pretending to be some other guy or pantomiming like I'm stuck in a box." It was only after he said the words did Quaid consider how it might seem like an insult, though felt Nat wasn't going to take it personally on her friend's behalf based on previous conversations.
"No, no, no. I can play an instrument or two, but you won't catch me up there pretending to be some other guy or pantomiming like I'm stuck in a box." It was only after he said the words did Quaid consider how it might seem like an insult, though felt Nat wasn't going to take it personally on her friend's behalf based on previous conversations.
A brow raised at Arlo legitimately chugging coffee, but she'd seen him down far weirder things before so makes no mention as she goes about outlining the glans and moving onto the testes. "That's the spirit we like to see!" Who doesn't love a casual sausage fest from time to time!? She heard his questions, but first: "Whoa, this guy has some low hanging fruit, but that's okay, all bodies are beautiful."
As if looking to Arlo to backup this somewhat deformed member, Court motions between the two before slipping back into their actual conversation. "Of fucking course," she states arrogantly, as if there was any other option. "Honestly, except for this one older lady who I think had veins lined with rebar, I haven't had a bad stick or had to re-stick anyone today. So far. Fingers crossed."
As if looking to Arlo to backup this somewhat deformed member, Court motions between the two before slipping back into their actual conversation. "Of fucking course," she states arrogantly, as if there was any other option. "Honestly, except for this one older lady who I think had veins lined with rebar, I haven't had a bad stick or had to re-stick anyone today. So far. Fingers crossed."
"Sure. And how do you like to be stroked?" Nat spears a piece of pancake, chewing with all the faux innocence in the world. She did happen to think that Edgar was a good actor, but whether that was true or out of affection for him, it didn't ultimately matter. She knew Quaid didn't mean anything by it.
"That's too bad, I'm sure you'd make a great mime." She cuts into her next pancake and softens the teasing. "You okay though? I don't think I've ever seen someone go sheet white like that so fast."
"That's too bad, I'm sure you'd make a great mime." She cuts into her next pancake and softens the teasing. "You okay though? I don't think I've ever seen someone go sheet white like that so fast."
"My co-devil with abs said you were Taken." She snuggles into Blythe's shoulder, unaware on purpose of any of her other current charges. She's a little dizzy, still, actually. It's not terrible to take a little rest. "J'vais parker mon car." She tries out an Acadian but also French/English mix phrase to take her there. "I was in an Incredibly specific commercial.
No, those weren't his ears turning the slightest bit red and his face growing hot at such an inquisitive question. A soft clearing of his throat, another piece of pancake cut off, and Quaid casually - oh so conversationally - replies, "Nah, there'd have to be a bit more privacy to go showin' that off now." He could only imagine what was going to be thrown at him in return, trying not to smile as he raised his breakfast to his mouth.
"Appreciated, but no thanks." There was no need to go into how he found them vaguely menacing, especially when it was much easier to admit to other fears: "I... don't like needles, but I like helping out, so."
"Appreciated, but no thanks." There was no need to go into how he found them vaguely menacing, especially when it was much easier to admit to other fears: "I... don't like needles, but I like helping out, so."
"They'll have plenty." Carter insists, especially once she clocks the slow blink, and shoves out the cookie a little more insistently. She does pretend she has no idea who Nat could be speaking of, cocking her head to clock Reggie. She doesn't look long. "Oh. No. Keep it secret. Famously not into snitches, actually."
Nat hums, watching the blush grow. "Exhibitionism in front of new friends and coworkers over a lovely pancake meal isn't one of your strokes? But there's so much that can be done with syrup," she can't really keep a straight face with that one, hiding a grin behind a long drink of water before she steers them away from more dangerous waters.
"Very noble of you," she offers about the needles, sincere. "Did you really not know this was going on? Talk about bad timing," she chuckles.
"Very noble of you," she offers about the needles, sincere. "Did you really not know this was going on? Talk about bad timing," she chuckles.
Nat takes the sugary gift with gratitude before biting it clean in half. "You aren't, or she's not," Nat prods with a smile, making sure to finish chewing before she speaks. "I thought you were both just famously into eachother." Another bite.
"J'vais parker mon car," Blythe tries to copy the sounds coming out of Evening's mouth, but it winds up sounding a lot more Cajun and a little bit old prospector. "I don't think I got it, what should I be doing with my hands?"
"Ew." This is probably too violent and immediate, if quiet. She does consider just turning around and leaving, but that'd be even more damning. Carter course corrects by wrinkling her nose. "I mean. I wouldn't. Say it like that. No snitches is the main thing."
"J'vais pah-kah mon cah," Blythe repeats, infusing a little Boston Southie in his voice as he waves his fingers through the air like he's conjuring something out of the air. "Am I nailin' it? Can I update my resume?"
She's given an amused Look, but Quaid doesn't say much about how that's not really his thing, instead legitimately choking for a second at Nat's observation of extracurricular uses of syrup. It's cool, he's cool, he's slowly turning back to his normal coloring, neither too reddened or paled.
"Thanks," he casually wheezes, trying not to draw attention to himself more than necessary. "I'm sure I heard something about it, but didn't realize it was today until I was here. How about yourself? You regularly like to get a little woozy and hang out?"
"Thanks," he casually wheezes, trying not to draw attention to himself more than necessary. "I'm sure I heard something about it, but didn't realize it was today until I was here. How about yourself? You regularly like to get a little woozy and hang out?"
"You make it sound like the latest designer drug," Nat chuckles as she cuts herself another piece. "I used to back before. I'm O+, a hot commodity, and I think it's fun," she shrugs as if this isn't a strange thing to say. "I'll leave all the fainting to you though -- here," she adds another pancake to his pile from her own, fussing. "You'll feel better the faster you fill up."
"How should I know what The Kids are up to these days? You're the cooler one here." Disregarding the fact Lundegaard was the only community with literal children, but that was neither here nor there at his silly, little joke.
He's chuckling along, about to draw attention to her definition of fun when Nat dunks on him again. "I swayed once and no more, alright?" Still he smirks down at the misshapen snowman staring up at him before cutting off a large bite. "That's what she said," he jejunely states in a deadpan before shoving approximately half a pancake into his mouth at once.
He's chuckling along, about to draw attention to her definition of fun when Nat dunks on him again. "I swayed once and no more, alright?" Still he smirks down at the misshapen snowman staring up at him before cutting off a large bite. "That's what she said," he jejunely states in a deadpan before shoving approximately half a pancake into his mouth at once.
Nat merely snorts at the coolness comment; she has these people hypnotized by a leather jacket, clearly.
Nat's smile curls a little into a smirk. "She did just say that," she agrees and props her chin up with her fist. "And she could say more."
Nat's smile curls a little into a smirk. "She did just say that," she agrees and props her chin up with her fist. "And she could say more."
Quaid wouldn't go as far as to say he was hypnotized by any aspect of Nat, though he was more than intrigued and attracted to her as a whole.
Finishing what he's chewing, Quaid nods and makes a motion towards her as if she'd made a decent point in a conversation; attempting to keep a straight face the whole time. "So what you're saying is you are an exhibitionist, then? Or whatever the equivalent is when it comes to having risque conversations in the middle of a blood drive pancake breakfast."
Finishing what he's chewing, Quaid nods and makes a motion towards her as if she'd made a decent point in a conversation; attempting to keep a straight face the whole time. "So what you're saying is you are an exhibitionist, then? Or whatever the equivalent is when it comes to having risque conversations in the middle of a blood drive pancake breakfast."
"Oh, I wouldn't exactly call it church talk or family friendly, now would you?" Far from a prude, Quaid wasn't the kind to ever show too much of himself at once, in public. Or he tried not to; not wanting to be enigmatic so much as not wanting people to have points to use against him. "And noted."
In this instance, he rather didn't mind that Nat had figured out how to push his buttons, as a it were, in regards to that blush creeping back over the bridge of his nose and helix of his ears. "You do seem to rather have a knack for it, don't you?" A beat. "I like that," Quaid states plainly.
In this instance, he rather didn't mind that Nat had figured out how to push his buttons, as a it were, in regards to that blush creeping back over the bridge of his nose and helix of his ears. "You do seem to rather have a knack for it, don't you?" A beat. "I like that," Quaid states plainly.
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