quietmounds | (no subject)

(no subject)

WHAT In person or texting, I don't know, I'm not your boss
WHERE Wherever you'd be at night
WHEN Day 1, night
NOTES aj said i was allowed to make a new post

[So, you've survived your first—or fiftieth, or five-hundredth—day in Quiet Mounds. Tonight, it's raining—or, it's not. Maybe you're trying to get used to your new, quiet apartment. The electricity is buzzing in that way that's hard to ignore, a silence so loud it's deafening, in that poetic sort of way.]

[Or maybe you're one of the sad sacks still working at the 24/7 joints. Or their why-am-I-even-up-this-late customers. You're the reason why capitalism does this to people, you know.]

[☽ ☽ ☽]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[a long pause]

Alright.

[so after some possible Ordeal, Stef has a dripping wet Vanyel in a black T-shirt and hoodie and damp, clinging jeans]

Vanyel, you're soaked!

[Good gods you're gorgeous. This is unfair]

It was raining . . .

[he at least looks a little embarrassed]

And not a cloak to your name, poor thing. Do you think you'll fit my spare clothes?

I—please don't be too sympathetic to my stupidity. I can dry them off, just let me in the bathing room briefly . . .

I'll be as sympathetic as I please.

And then we'll both cry again . . .

I just think giving you dry clothes will be more helpful, Van.

. . . fine.

[goes to get him his own arrival jeans and t-shirt] Sorry I don't have anything more comfortable. You're a bit taller but I'm a bit skinnier so hopefully it balances out.

[taking them, chiding gently as he steps into the bathroom to change]

Have you eaten today?

I've had food.

[stepping out again once he's dried off and changed. the jeans are a little short and tight but they do fit. he's fingercombing his hair back—just a few white streaks in it]

What did you eat?

One of those boxes of wafers, meat, and cheese. I'm fine.

[he sighs, leading the way into the living room and sitting down on the couch. he tugs out his slightly wet bag]

I bought a few things.

Oh. I'm, I...? [Curious but stammering]

What?

You don't need to do that.

I'm hungry now that I'm no longer being an idiot, and I want to share.

[shades of gentle and familiar Vanyel self-deprecation, with a quirk of a smile]

[he pulls out a couple only slightly dented boxes, resting then on the coffee table]

Well, that's different.

Which part?

Sharing. So what gifts did you bring!

Sharing is different?

[he peeks inside one box, then holds it out to Stefen]

Some kind of flaky pastry. With sweet pears, I think. You prefer—. . . [he trails off]

[kind of looks blank for a moment]

That sounds delicious.

[all but pushes it into his hands]

There are some more savory things as well. A—sort of egg and meat pie.