(no subject)

[turnonmycharm]

WHAT Christmas in July
WHERE Every-fucking-where
WHEN Day 141 & 142

[IT'S THAT TIME OF YEAR. It's . . . well, time doesn't really work well here anyway, but it's been 'a while' since the last 'festive activities' so that's what's happening, right here, right now.

It's still warm enough for shorts and t-shirts, but there's also big fat snowflakes falling from the sunny sky, making piles of it that are pleasantly cool and don't seem to melt. Skating rinks! Palm trees and cacti decorated with pretty sparkly lights! Do we even have those? We do today.

Besides that, you can do whatever you want to, to get into the #mood:

• Mistletoe? Mistletoe for kissing, for cuddling, for whatever?
  
• Mysterious gifts with your name on them that turn out to be a long-lost item from your childhood?
  
• Blankets that you get trapped under until someone joins you in there to cuddle?
  
• [insert your fun here]
  

Comments

[aintrunning]

[a long, protracted growl. shoulders rolling through snapped shake/punch down with both hands]

—Don't talk smack about my dad when you never knew him!

[morethanyou]

I wasn't talking smack—

[she cuts herself off, though, taking a deep breath and holding her hands up a little]

—I didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry. This is so messed up.

[aintrunning]

Yeah, it fucking is!

[hissing and shaking his window-punching hand out then checking over the book in his free hand, do not have blood on you, please]

[morethanyou]

...I really didn't mean it that way. At least your father was honest with you.

[aintrunning]

Had to be. I told your brother, it wasn't a joke. I lost some friends, and they lost their parents and brothers and sisters and cousins, aunts and uncles. Fuck, it was jail or death. Sometimes, both.

[tossing his bag onto the window ledge and putting the book on top, starting to idly pick glass shards out]

[morethanyou]

Let me see your hand.

[aintrunning]

No. I got this.

[morethanyou]

[sighs and doesn't push it for now. though she's watching, and if it looks like he needs stitches anywhere she'll probably hassle him about it again later]

...was that what happened to your mother?

[aintrunning]

[heart-shaped herb, tho]

What, both? Yeah. Got busted on something stupid.

[morethanyou]

Do you remember her?

[aintrunning]

Of course. She only got locked up a month before — Everything.

[glancing at his book then his hands, rolling his eyes up and shaking his head]

[morethanyou]

So much at once...

...

...do you want me to at least hold your bag open so you don't bleed all over everything trying to pack up?

[aintrunning]

Left pocket. Bandages and wipes.

[morethanyou]

[fetches them out, and opens a wipe for him just automatically]

[aintrunning]

[taking it, leaving her with the wrapper as he cleans up, only mildly hissing. then grabbing the bandages to start wrapping, perfect job at it, but pausing midway to reach his non-injured hand to the book, flipping through the ears of the pages and diving a hand in between two, seemingly at random, then pulling out a photo (that is not a red carpet or as nice but you get the idea, n'jobu and baby erik and mom) to hand to her. going back to wrapping his hand once she takes the picture]

[morethanyou]

[eh just sticks the wrapper in her pocket anyway—

...what's he doing—oh.

she takes the photo carefully, by the edges, eyes widening a bit. staring at it and then glancing up at him and then staring at it again.]

[aintrunning]

[while wrapping:]

Ezra.

[morethanyou]

You look like both of them.

What was she like?

[aintrunning]

Smart. She knew a lot, kept baba on his toes. [a beat, realizing the code slip but not calling more attention to it] Wanted to change the world, just like him.

[morethanyou]

...it's not fair.

[her tone is quiet and steely, but it still seems like that just slipped out, from the way she makes a little face after at how pointless and childish the words sound]

[aintrunning]

No.

[short laugh that ends up sounding pained]

Your brother tried to say your mom would have treated me like her own son. Got mad when I said I had my own. [shaking his head] The two of them should be remembered in Wakanda, mean something.

[morethanyou]

[serious]

They won't be erased.

2/2 sorry

[morethanyou]

[but then kinda, glances over at him, puzzled]

...he got mad about that? That doesn't sound like him.

[aintrunning]

Sure were until I turned up.

[sighs, mostly taking in air] Don't know, probably thought I was talking shit on your mom. I mean, she was stone cold, but I wasn't expecting anything from her, either. She knew, she didn't know, whatever. Her son was going six feet under and wasn't a thing she could do about it.

[morethanyou]

[gives him an APPALLED LOOK but like, honestly it's practically the same kind of appalled look that she gives him when he doesn't put on gloves before doing electrical work.]

Yes, weird how none of us were friendly. All right, that makes... more sense.

[also... sighs...]