breakaleginhalf | dataBURST: IC Inbox

Naw- it is. Sorry- sometimes I forget not everyone's time over there was like mine.

[ Bugsy's turn to shrink in on himself a little, sinking down the wall to sit more properly next to his little shrine. ]

No, it's-- you were being real. 's'okay.

[Gil's legs feel like they're trying to collapse beneath him, but he still walks across the short gap to stand next to Bugsy's sunken form; he won't sit next to him, he's not sure he has the right, but he can at least put a hand on Bugsy's shoulder to give him a gentle squeeze.]

...shrine's nice.

[ Bugsy gently put a hand atop Gil's, sighing just a little. ]

Usually I'd be making up some bullshit artist's statement right now, but yeah. It's kind of a shrine. Just felt like the big guy should be... honoured. 'M not usually woo, but something about putting things to rest properly feels right.

Yeah. Yeah, no, that's... makes sense.

[His tail swishes in his harem pants, making them brush briefly against Bugsy's arm.]

I haven't been out from There for like. Shit, probably barely nine months now. I... haven't really been doing shit with actually dealing with it.

[Being self-aware, unfortunately, does not make him not stupid.]

You know I've been out nearly ten years now? Got back home... shit, some time around 2010. Give or take a year and some change.

[ Bugsy glanced over at the pants, trying to remember if he saw a tail on the big guy, but ultimately turning his attention back to the conversation at hand. ]

Shit, I never really did anything to actively deal with it. Shit just got easier eventually. I went back to living the ways I always have.

Fuck, I would've been like fourteen then.

[Sometimes he forgets how baby he is compared to the other Changelings. Something about it makes him feel uncomfortably lacking.]

I know that's how it's supposed to work, but it's still hard. Feels like that point's never quite in reach.

[He's being more careful, now about putting information on his life beforehand out there with Bugsy. He doesn't want to be the cause of another aggressive little pissing contest right now.]

Edited 2021-04-23 06:16 (UTC)

Man, you really are a baby. I should start talkin' about when I was your age and shit,

[ Bugsy laughed, buzzing in the back of his throat. ]

Yeah, it's one of those things where it'll never come if you're waiting for it. You've just gotta get used to dodging whatever your brain throws at you. Finding work-arounds. And then, once you've got 'em, you've just... got 'em.

[Gil makes an offended noise, and shifts his hand so he can clip Bugsy's ear with his knuckles, but it's a sharp tap at worst. Bugsy's not wrong; and it's certainly got Gil's ears at less of an aggressive press against his head.]

Yeah. One of my best friends back home had depression, medicated and everything. Helped her with her routine sometimes, when she was having bad days. [He'd almost forgotten that, actually, except in where Artemis's habits brushed against those he remembered from Eileen.] Sometimes I'd forget she had it if it wasn't for the bad days, all her habits worked fucking smoothly.

Hey- c'mon, man, watch how you touch me,

[ He warned. Just because he wasn't holding a grudge about the wrist thing didn't mean he wasn't Gil clipping him over the ears. ]

But yeah. Eventually you just know your own bullshit. Always makes me think of those spy movies, where the spy goes through all the really complicated dance moves to get through a laser field. At first you just keep falling into shit that makes you trip the laser, but by the end it just looks graceful.

[Gil's tail flicks again with his wry amusement, but he behaves himself then, folding his arms over his chest and lifting a leg to press against the wall. And his thigh leans gently against Bugsy's side, then he won't deny it.]

Yeah. Probably I should start working on some of those. Pretty much my only filters now only work when there's minors present, since there's like. A certain level of conduct and not-swearing people expect from a teacher.

Well hey, all you need to do is just be around kids constantly. That'll work.

[ Bugsy leaned into the touch just a little. Nice contact, for once. He was going to savour this. ]

... you've got time, though. You don't need to figure everything out right away.

[That makes Gil snort. Please, no.]

Ehh, never really felt like that. I had a hot minute to escape, I went from depression hermit to teachers aide in like two weeks... I don't typically get the chance to do things by halves. [His muzzle wrinkles lightly in annoyance.] Even my own dumb brain won't let me ease up when something very suddenly happens in front of me.

You think I wasn't like that when I was your age? Your brain is gonna slow down eventually, you're gonna have good and bad days, and you're gonna have time to work out how to make peace with it.

Don't when I was your age me, you fucking old fart!

[But he's not pulling away or smacking Bugsy: he's mostly trying not to laugh.]

You'll be fuckin' lucky if you look this good at my age. You saw the weird fetch human version of me, right? I end up lookin' like a fuckin' silver fox daddy.

[ Bugsy's turn to laugh now, and he leaned into Gil's leg a little more. Not enough to destabilize him- Bugsy didn't weigh that much at the best of times. ]

[And Gil leans back into Bugsy in turn, just enough that he's properly supported by Gil's own leg.]

Dude, my pops didn't go grey until he was sixty, if I've got enough of his genes I'm fucking set.

[He unfolds an arm and runs his fingers idly through the bits of mane sticking out of his singlet collar.]

God, this is gonna look so weird with greys.

[ Bugsy was about to start with 'well you think that's bad', but experience had taught him not to do that, and he phrased it instead as- ]

Yeah, well, 'm not looking forward to when these hairs- [ he faintly gestured at the extremities of the thick fly-like hairs on his face, ] go grey either. If they go grey, I don't know how that's gonna work.

I mean, you could probably get away with dying them or something. Or embrace it, who doesn't love a silver fox.

[His grin might be a little shit-eating now.]

As much as I appreciate the vote of confidence, these aren't just... beard.

[ He gestured to them, again. ]

They're more like... whiskers, y'know? Sensitive. Used to be able to feel air pressure changes with 'em. Now they just hurt if you press on 'em too hard.

[There's something of a pointed moment of stillness from Gil; because someone has to actively work to resist the impulse to flick those antenna, when Bugsy points them out.

And once that passes, he looks up at the neon lights overhead thoughtfully.]

I... think I had whiskers, kind of? Not big ones, didn't really need them with all the other bullshit. Smell and hearing and big.

It's weird, thinking about what we keep and what gets left behind.

[ Bugsy gave a final glance to the shrine, then offered- ]

You wanna get out of here and go somewhere less fuckin' grim?

[Gil glances over Bugsy to look at the shrine too, when he does, and the confused regret hits nearly as hard this time over, making his ears press back again for a few seconds.]

...yeah. I'd say should we go back to yours, but I'm not too sure where yours is now.

Technically? It's anywhere. Well- can get to it anywhere, anyway. How are you with dark, tight spaces? Tunnels, specifically.

Better than you'd expect. [How many fairy tale trolls live under bridges, that he's had used as "inspiration" for his current form? Who even knows now.] As long as there's not any sudden drops.

[ Bugsy lead them down a manhole, through the wider and narrower sections of sewer, until they finally hit a partially-barricaded room with dim light leaking out of it. It was den-like, in a way that Gil probably would've been able to appreciate, with Bugsy's shit in various neatly chaotic piles and boxes scattered around the room. ]

The tax for hanging out here is that one day you've gotta model for me for an art project,

[ He explained, vaulting himself over the barricade. ]

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