breakaleginhalf | dataBURST: IC Inbox

dude
you have to let me help you shave
i want to see what it looks like
like if youre all wrinkly under there like a hairless cat
plus i already have my shaving kit with me
save you having to buy shitty razors

[That should not be as tempting as it is. He's gonna dissect whether he actually wants to do it or if he just wants to be touched later.]

Maybe after we get that whole Thing sorted.

I'm gonna get some shears for real, though, my mane's due for a trim. I don't wanna blunt your kit on that.

all jokes aside i can help with that
if you help me fix up my hawk that is
im getting fuzzy again and i cant be fucked fucking around with the back of my head

Yeah, course. I used to do the back of my own head Before, I'm pretty good with razors, clippers, all that shit. Dunno if you saw my human doppelganger at all, but high-top dreads used to be my thing.

[He's glad he's getting the gloves, now.]

Edited 2021-05-12 00:40 (UTC)

shit should i have?
that sounds cute as fuck
i just always used to be around someone who knew how to use clippers
i can do the back of my own head its just annoying
plus it means i get to just bliss out and enjoy it yknow?

I'll show you photos later, I saved some from my old Facebook.
I'll be back in like, less than an hour.

[It still takes him the better part of that hour to get his supplies and get back to Trojan, but when he does he's got a pair of leather gloves on already (and they look stupid with the singlet and cut-off jeans), and a plastic bag with a fresh set of clippers and just. So many fucking shears, you guys. Those had been the hardest thing to find, proper ones that could handle his fur.

When he pushes the door open, his ears crook back a little automatically as anxiety starts flooding his stomach. Just because Bugsy texted him that it was okay, doesn't mean he was necessarily telling the truth. Hopefully the hour gave him some time to wind down or prep for whatever he needed to do to not hate Gil still.]

Bugsy? ...Ms Mojo?

This-a-way,

[ Bugsy called from deeper in the store. Gil would find the pair of them in one of Bugsy's boltholes, in a little shelter not unlike the one that he'd set up in the sewer. Ms Mojo was cuddled up in his lap, and Bugsy smiled, but held her closer, didn't indicate he was going to move. ]

Hey.

Hey.

[This was... promising? Gil smiles back, but his ears don't really move from their light fold. He makes no move to approach the bolthole more than he needs to for him to see Bugsy properly, and hopefully vice versa.]

Got you something. Well- two somethings, really, uh.

[He digs through his bag, and pulls out two pairs of black leather gloves; one with fingers and one with them cut off, but those ones look much nicer with their two different textures, and he lobs them into Bugsy's nest.]

Here. Figured since this is my problem you shouldn't have to put yourself out of pocket. Figuratively speaking, I mean, given... everything.

[ Bugsy caught the gloves with one hand, grateful that Gil was keeping some distance. He turned them over in his hand, humming quietly, big buggy eyes only half looking at the gloves themselves- the other half was already considering modifications. ]

You know I only said leather to set up for a fetish joke, right?

[ But he shook his head, experimentally slipping his long spindly fingers in and flexing his hand. ]

These are nice. Never really owned a decent pair like these, I try to avoid anywhere Winter gets too snowy. Ironic, right? Fuckin' Winter courtier who can't handle the cold.

[ A little weakness, as a peace offering. ]

Edited 2021-05-14 07:42 (UTC)

Fine, I'll take them back then.

[Not that he's making any moves to step closer. In fact he's stepped back, grabbing a stray pillow that's made it into the aisle and sitting on it with his back against a display wall. There's a slight twitch of his ears as he lands on a burn, but he just shifts to get comfy.]

I almost got you knit ones, but I was thinking of your aesthetic, you punk jerk. [He snickers though, fondly more than anything else.]

Winter as a weather system fucking sucks though. It's just cold and miserable, and I'm pretty sure part of me wants to hibernate now. So if I pass out in December and don't wake up feel free to snuggle me.

Try and take them from me, and you die.

[ He warned, sliding the other one on and examining it carefully. It'd just take a couple of studs, maybe a little bit of embroidery. But since Gil didn't seem like he was going to actually pursue that, Bugsy was happy to drop it too. ]

I could rock knitted gloves, too. But thanks, man.

[ Still, that made him laugh a little, and he petted Ms Mojo on the head, to get her used to the weird new feeling. ]

Yeah, 'cold and miserable' is kinda our thing. But 's necessary. I'm just kinda like a bird, I go south the second it gets chilly. And if it gets that cold when winter actually comes around, I might fuckin' join you.

[Gil's ears finally unpress a little from his head when Bugsy laughs, and he shuffles down a bit so he can rest his head against the wall too. The cool fake plaster is a nice reprieve against his huge ears, as he smiles faintly.]

I mean if it's getting this hot already and it's barely the ass end of spring, maybe it'll actually snow in winter. [Not that Gil's sure if he's pleased with that or not. He doesn't know how his fur holds up against snow yet.] So we're both gonna be big fuckin' babies. Coda's gonna have to deal with so much sooking from us, it'll be great. Us and Ms Mojo, ultimate blanket pile.

The fuck is 'sooking'?

[ Damn Ohssies and their weird slang. ]

See, you think that sounds great, but eventually she gets all wiggly and starts pacing around on top of you. And then you just get your guts all squished and shit, because the bitch is heavy.

[ Just go for it, just go for it, just fucking say it- ]

I could probably stand to cuddle with you for a couple'a months, though. You were nice to cuddle with.

[He grins, but there's raised eyebrows too.] It's being a bitch-ass crybaby.

[And he's about to make another comment, something like 'oh, like Mojo rolling all over you is heavier than me', when Bugsy keeps talking. And Gil becomes glad his ears are pressed against the wall because it stops them from twitching back (instead, betrayal, they twitch forwards to stand attention) and he can pretend that them turning red is just the temperature change.

He lifts a hand to scruff under his chin as he tries and fails to maintain eye contact.]

Yeah, well- maybe you are too. You're not as cold to cuddle as the whole Winter deal'd make you think.

[...is that even a compliment? He's flustered shut up]

Edited 2021-05-14 12:23 (UTC)

[ Some small fluttery hope beat about in Bugsy's chest for a moment. Seeing Gil's ears stand up like that, the fact he couldn't keep eye contact... shit, maybe Gil did like him. Bugsy drew Ms Mojo closer to his chest. ]

'm fucking Amanda occasionally too, so you know. In case that's something that needs to be... I dunno, negotiated. Nothing serious.

[That makes Gil's ears perk down a bit. Not an entire mood shift, just a surprised twitch away from full attention.]

I mean, I don't even know if we're, like... [He lets go of his shopping bag and sort of gestures between him and Bugsy with both hands.] ...serious, or-- anything...? [And the next words follow hastily:] Like-- I just don't wanna force you into labels or shit when you've got your own stuff happening on the side, I seriously don't care that you are.

[Well he does a little but it's not the fucking aspect of the "fucking Amanda" he has weird feelings about.]

[ Ugh, complicated feelings. Bugsy felt his stomach writhe, and there was no way to mistake the way that his buggy tatts sought shelter under his clothes. ]

Labels are shit. But- I dunno. You don't really wanna do anything serious with me.

[ It was a question more than it was a statement. ]

You're not gonna... take me out for a fuckin... Candlelit dinner under the stars or some shit. 'm not like that. But 'f you're cool with everything, then we can change the subject.

[His ears prick down a little further as his stomach twists gently, but the look on his face otherwise is defiant.]

Don't tell me what I want, bitch.

[There's no venom there, just vague offense. Gil doesn't even know what he wants in actually dating someone, candlelit dinners were not high on his priorities.

But he'll accept Bugsy's out, and instead make the effort to take the shopping bag again and slide it across the glossy floor to the bug's nest. Yeah, they're cool.]

Got you some more clippers and shit, and all the shears for me. I tried grabbing some good brands, so just, like. Lemme know when you wanna use 'em, whenever.

[And there, is the slightest ray of hope in his voice. That maybe 'whenever' might be sooner rather than later.]

It's not like I'm wrong,

[ Bugsy grumbled, figuring that Gil was probably more pissy at the assumption than because he did want anything serious. Bugsy leaned out of the nest to pull the bag a little closer, glancing through. ]

I can make this work. You wanna wait until it grows out a little more, or just get it over and done with now?

Oh--

[Curse his fucking ears they both flick forwards again, and he actively reaches up to brush them back with both hands; it's a dual-purpose motion, though, fluffing his mane and checking the length of it through his fingers.]

I mean, I was probably gonna do it tomorrow. [Read: tonight, if Bugsy hadn't wanted to help.] I've got garbage bags and shit stored in one of the bathrooms already, only takes like a minute to set up -- but, uh. If you're up to it, we can do it now, sure.

[He's shocked Bugsy wants to touch him again so soon, frankly, after that whole debacle; even if that was literally why he'd brought the gloves home for him.]

Sure. Just...

[ Ms Mojo had settled herself to the side as Bugsy fiddled around with the haircare supplies. She put her muzzle back on his leg, blinking up at him. ]

Go set up. I should be good in ten, I'll buzz if I'm not. Alright?

Yeah. Yeah, 'course.

[It takes both hands to push him up from the awkward spot he's slumped himself into, but Bugsy won't miss the twitch of his tail smacking the inside of his pants as he turns to move away.]

It's the one with that full-body mirror set-up instead of a sink, next to the Coda Kitchen.

[The one that's just black and white for some weird reason.

And honestly, Gil spends most of that ten minutes (or however long Bugsy chooses to take) gently panicking; he's already got a pair of shears in there, so he's using those to cut off the bandages wrapped around his torso. There's no getting around this one: he'd gotten lucky managing to keep Bugsy's hands off his torso during their... fun, but even if the higher bullet wound that went through his heart is covered by the shaggy mane currently, the one that went through his ribs isn't, on either side. And they're going to be revealing them in full anyway.

So mostly he's just standing facing the mirror, examining the scars on his chest with a tired air. They're healing well enough, no longer bubbled or weird and itchy-tender, but still highly sensitive, and his ears flick as he traces around the wound again.]

[ Bugsy spent the ten minutes cuddled up to his mutt, trying to get his head into some sorta array. This was an apology, a way to make up for the tension of their encounter. A simple tit for tat. He didn't need to have his heart in his throat like this.
Eventually he figured he ought to just get it over with, heaving himself up and dragging the supplies with him.

Despite the heaviness of his boots, Gil probably didn't hear him approaching, only saw him slip into the background of his reflection, eyes red and shiny in the fluorescent light. ]

What's the other guy look like?

[Shirtless like this, Bugsy will see Gil's mane raise a fraction, ears flick directly back at him as Gil spots him in the mirror - but both relax in the same moment. He doesn't like not hearing people, and he's not sure if he was just distracted or Bugsy was being Winter.]

Ribs, neck, spine... used his ass to break through a wall and throw him down a three storey drop.

[The details are unnecessary, really, but it's a very Autumn response. He glances over his shoulder to meet Bugsy's eye properly.]

Course, he did shoot me first, so I'm not sure who's laughing now.

You're still alive. Means you're the one who can laugh at all.

[ Bugsy stepped into the bathroom properly, retrieving a pair of shears before gently putting the bag down next to the bathtub. ]

You gonna sit in the tub for this? Just might be less messy.

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