(no subject)
Some more fun with the Lost Souls pups. Whee.
First we have Steve and Ann talking. And...it's kind of scary. Then Steve stresses to Ghost and Ghost makes everything better, as Ghost is wont to do.
Rated, as always, for cursing. And for subject matter.
Ann: *insert gratuitous mental cursing here*
Steve: *has his guitar in his hand and scowls faintly upon seeing Ann* *pauses, then goes over to lean against a wall somewhere nearby, not looking at her*
Ann: *watches him out of the corner of her eye* *and smokes* *smokes* *like a chimney*
Steve: ....*the smoking isn't really helping this whole withdrawal thing* *abruptly, not looking at Ann still* You know I killed Christian.
Ann: Did you? *exhales* Is there a reason you're telling me this?
Steve: *looking straight ahead* I did. I wanted to kill that fucker Zillah, but I got to Christian first. *jaw tightens* And I'm telling you so you have another reason to hate me.
Ann: *tenses* Why are you so desperate for me to hate you?
Steve: *twitches slightly* ...You do, don't you? Fuckin' should. What I did.
Ann: Yeah, I probably should. *takes a long drag* I don't, though. *looks like there's more she wants to say, but ...*
Steve: *freezes* *turns to look at her and -blinks-* ......you -don't-.
Ann: No. I don't. Not entirely.
Steve: *just stares* ...why?
Ann: Because - effitall, Steve, because I still /love/ you and I have no effing idea why but I /do/.
Steve: ......*just....very much in shock* *mouth moves wordlessly but...vocal chords are apparently dead*
Ann: *vaguely pleased with herself for sending him into this state* *but, y'know, sort of not* ....
Steve: *really can apparently not speak -at all-* *completely didn't expect this, so...just continues staring at her*
Ann: *shifts uncomfortably*
Steve: *lets out a slightly strangled noise* ... *hoarsely and barely audibly* ...-shit-, Ann...
Ann: .................................................Shit, /what/, Steve?
Steve: ...Christ, I don't -know!- *sounds a little frustrated and a little helpless, and the latter is increasing the former* You think I -knew- that?
Ann: Christ, Ste - no. Forget it. Just ... Forget it. As always.
Steve: ....well, damn, what'd I say -this- time?
Ann: ...Nothing, Steve. You didn't say anything.
Steve: Then what -is- it?
Ann: It's nothing.
Steve: Christ, Ann, no it -isn't.- I can fucking -tell-. [As I said in OOC, if anyone has a problem with teh rampant Steve-cursing, plz say so and I will curtail it.]
Ann: Fucking hell, Steve, I told you to forget it.
Steve: You just told me you still fucking loved me and I'm supposed to fucking forget it? *sounds frustrated more than angry, but with Steve that's hard to distinguish*
Ann: Yes, Steve. I told you that. And that's not what I'm asking you to forget. Or maybe it is. Fuck, I don't know anymore.
Steve: *leans against the wall, clenching his eyes shut* *mutters* Fuck.
Ann: *...gah. Feels icky and horrible. For some reason. Oops?*
Steve: *sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair* *mutters* This is fuckin' wonderful.
Ann: You're telling me. I'm just going to go ...
Steve: *opens his eyes, but still doesn't look at her* ... *barely audible mutter* ...y'don't have to.
Ann: ...Whatever you say. I'm getting a beer. *woo, kitchenifies*
Steve: *wants a beer SO BADLY RIGHT NOW*
Ann: *comes back out with the beer* ...Aw, shit. I forgot. You want one?
*tosses a can of beer at Steve, because..uh...yandros likes to cause chaos, and he has associated beer with chaos!*
Steve: *blink* *blinkblink* *catches the beer by reflex, then shakes his head at Ann* Can't. Promised a friend I wouldn't.
Ann: ...You're shitting me.
Steve: *shrugs and...is that the hint of a grin?* Just for a few days. 'll live.
Ann: ...Sure you will. Have you ever done it before?
Steve: *snorts* Maybe. Probably tried to forget it as soon as possible.
Ann: Knowing you? Yeah, probably.
Steve: *sets the beer down slowly, then turns and looks at Ann, tilting his head slightly*
Ann: *raises an eyebrow at him*
Steve: *looks a little embarrassed and glances away* *clears his throat* ...sorry.
Ann: .....*blinks* ...what did you just say?
Steve: *bites his lip* .....sorry....?
Ann: ...............................................You know, I don't think you've ever said that to me before. *still blinking*
Steve: *tenses and looks totally flustered for a second before groaning and closing his eyes again* ...-shit-, Ann.
Ann: What is it now?
Steve: *sighs heavily and leans back against the wall* .....I'm sorry.
Ann: Sorry for what?
Steve: For...everything. For being a fucking bastard. For...what I did. There's no excuse.
Ann: ..........................................*STARES AT HIM*
Steve: *has his eyes closed, so can't tell*
Ann: *....is probably not going to say anything anytime soon* *just ... gaping*
Steve: *opens an eye after a while to look at her*
Ann: *...still kind of gaping*
Steve: *raises an eyebrow*
Ann: I ... really have absolutely no idea what to say.
Steve: *shrugs awkwardly* Don't expect you to.
Ann: ...Well ... I ... thanks ... I guess?
Steve: *slight quirk that could possibly be a smile* *nods slightly*
Ann: ...I'm going to go. I'll see you around?
Steve: *nods* *pauses* ...take care.
Ann: ...You too. *leaves*
* Ann is now known as Honor
Steve: *has an "okay, what the hell just happened?" look* ... *collapses on a couch somewhere and grabs his guitar*
* MakingWithTehLurkage is now known as Ghost
Steve: *on a couch. with his guitar. vaguely out of it because...hey, previous conversation was -brainbreaking-*
Ghost: *slips in quietly, as usual, slightly distracted and a little twitchy, but we'll pretend we don't notice this* *sees Steve and heads that way*
Steve: *looks up and smiles faintly, stopping and sitting up to wave slightly*
Ghost: *gives a slight smile and wave back, then plops down next to him* Hey.
Steve: Hey. *flops back against the couch and sighs heavily* How're you?
Ghost: *half-grins* Hopped up on caffeine. How're you?
Steve: *snorts* Fun shit. *pause* ...talked to Ann.
Ghost: *bites his lip slightly* Oh?
Steve: *nods, closing his eyes* Apologized.
Ghost: *smiles faintly* Good for you.
Steve: *sighs again, running a hand through his hair* She....*breaks off*
Ghost: *bites his lip again and just...quietly watches Steve*
Steve: *barely audible* She doesn't hate me.
Ghost: *bites the inside of his cheek and gives an almost imperceptible not, looking down at where he's picking at the knee of his jeans*
Steve: *has his eyes closed, so can't see it* *clenches his hands into fists lightly* *even quieter and tensely* She said...she still loves me.
Ghost: *nods again, even though Steve can't see, and continues picking at the hole over his knee* *after a moment, almost inaudible* ...I know.
Steve: *sighs heavily* You would. *not sounding resentful, but resigned and frustrated, but at himself*
Ghost: *pulls a threed out of the jeans* *not sure what to say or do so...doesn't say or do anything other than chew on his lip*
Steve: *sighs again, running a hand through his hair* What the fuck am I supposed to do?
Ghost: *shrugs slightly, staring at his sneakers* *quietly* I don't know.
Steve: *yet another sigh* *opens his eyes to look at Ghost tiredly* I know. I'm sorry. I just...Christ. This is...I don't...*gestures vaguely and collapses back against the couch again*
Ghost: *glances back over at Steve but apparently doesn't have anything to say*
Steve: *sighs again and looks at Ghost a bit helplessly* ...'m sorry.
Ghost: *gives a small shrug* *quietly* For what?
Steve: For...*gestures vaguely again* Being fucked up.
Ghost: *grins faintly* You're Steve. I've gotten used to you being fucked up.
Steve: *faint grin in turn* You're probably the only person that can say that.
Ghost: *small shrug* Maybe. Then again, I'd never claim to be a picture of perfect myself. That might count for something when it comes to dealing with you.
Steve: *shakes his head* No one could find it hard to deal with you. I have, sometimes, but...'m an asshole.
Ghost: *shrugs again* 24-7? Anyone could find it hard to deal with anyone. *picks at the hole over his knee again*
Steve: *shrugs* We've done it.
Ghost: *nods* We have.
Steve: *sighs again and leans back, looking up at the ceiling* I just...*trails off and exhales* ...really can't form a fucking complete sentence to save my life right now, can I.
Ghost: *half-smiles slightly at that* Apparently not.
Steve: I don't know. *closes his eyes* I...told Tobias last night. About Ann. About the baby. About Christian. And he didn't hate me.
Ghost: *glances over at Steve again, head cocked slightly to the side* Sometimes it takes a lot more than you think to make someone hate you.
Steve: *sighs* But...-he- was raped. By his cousin. And...I can't understand it. I can't understand why -Ann- doesn't hate me. I can't understand why -you- don't hate me sometimes.
Ghost: *shrugs slightly* I can't speak for either of them, really. Not without stepping out of line, anyway.
Steve: *opens his eyes and tilts his head to look at Ghost* ...what about you?
Ghost: *shrugs slightly again and watches his knee as he picks at it* *quietly* I know you.
Steve: *watches Ghost for a few more seconds, then sighs and leans against him* *murmurs* You're the only one that does, really.
Ghost: *half-smiles* It helps that I have an unfair advantage.
Steve: *shrugs* Hey, use what you got.
Ghost: Mm. *pulls a few threads out of his blue jeans*
Steve: *leans against Ghost, absently watching the jean destruction*
Ghost: *this is what we call fidgetting Ghost* *has pretty much torn the entire knee out of his jeans now and stops when another wad of thread comes off* ...I think I had too much caffeine.
Steve: *grins slightly* No shit. Might wanna lay off.
Ghost: *mumbles* Had a headache.
Steve: *frowns* You okay?
Ghost: *shrugs slightly* Still having nightmares. They're not as bad as they were but... *shrugs again* *not totally answering the question, what?*
Steve: *tilts his head slightly to see Ghost properly* Need to talk about them? Or should I fuck off?
Ghost: *glances over with a faint smile* I don't remember enough about them to talk. They just...hurt. *looks back at his knee* ...but at least I know they're mine.
Steve: *frowns* ...and that's a good thing?
Ghost: *pauses for a moment, chewing at his lip* Better. Not good...but better. Better than dreaming the nightmares for everyone else. At least, whatever it is, it's meant to frighten -me-, not someone who'll never see it.
Steve: *nods slowly* Right. ...still ends up with you being scared, though. Which...sucks.
Ghost: *laughs slightly* Regular old Steve Finn observation.
Steve: *smirks faintly and pokes Ghost* Damn straight.
Ghost: *laughs again and elbows him, then sighs* I gotta get. *which sounds like "git," by the by* Seeya later?
Steve: If I can. *grins* Have fun.
Ghost: *smiles and shoves himself to his feet* Bye, then. *waves and heads out*
* Ghost is now known as Ghost-out
Steve: *curls up on the couch with the guitar and...pretty much ignores the world, whee*
And as a bonus, you get Steve teaching Esther McQueen how to play the guitar and discussing...random stuff. Yay inter-fandom interaction.
* Basil is now known as Esther
Steve: *playing guitar on a couch. because that's what Steve does.*
Esther: *walks in carrying a book probably stolen from the typist, and sees Steve-with-guitar, and sits on a couch opposite him*
Steve: *looks up and waves slightly to Esther*
Esther: *nods to him* Hello...?
Steve: Hey. Steve Finn.
Esther: Esther McQueen. *curiously examines the guitar*
Steve: Nice to meetcha. *grins slightly and gestures to the guitar* You play?
Esther: No, I don't. Music interests me-- but I don't have any skill in it myself.
Steve: Really? Could probably teach you. Guitar's not that hard, I taught myself.
Esther: Oh? I would certainly be interested in learning, if you wouldn't mind...
Steve: Sure. *shrugs* 've got the time to teach. And it's easy to pick up. ...you just gotta get your own. *grins*
Esther: It's very kind of you to offer. Where would I be able to get one around here?
Steve: *grins* No problem. *gestures towards the plothole* Can probably pick one up from there. Just think about it and you'll find one.
Esther: *blinks at the plothole, then goes over and... whee, pulls a guitar out of it. Imagine that* ...That's... a pretty neat trick. What is this thing, anyway?
Steve: I have no fuckin' clue. But hey, why question a good thing?
Esther: *grins* An excellent way of looking at it.
Steve: Right. *grins and gestures to the couch next to him*
Esther: *sits down*
Steve: *...er...the typist knows ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about guitars. isn't that happy? so...insert basics here.*
Esther: *...yeah, ditto here. So... yeah. Listens all attentive-like, because learning is fun*
Steve: *so...yes. this concludes the amount of learning one should usually get in their first lesson. which was totally done and such, and not just BSed by the typist. w00t.*
Esther: *whee! oh, of course it was totally done! no typists who fail at guitars here, nope. so totally done, in fact, that the typist will be listening to her practice for ages*
Steve: *failing? pshh, crazy tslk. and yay! much like this typist was woken up at 4am by Steve on guitar?* *grins* That should be enough for your first day.
Esther: *nods* Very interesting. It'll definitely give me something to do when I can't be out socializing. I only hope my headmates don't try to bludgeon me.
Steve: *laughs* One of mine plays too. And the typist kinda got pissed when I started playing this morning. Couldn't go back to sleep.
Esther: *amused* Mine have quiet hobbies. The ones that sleep during the day get annoyed at the typist for her piano.
Steve: *grins* Guess I'm lucky for the most part, then. Only time mine get annoyed's when I try to sing.
Esther: Most of the negative feelings among my headmates are angled towards Paragraph, for his apparent inability to keep his mouth shut for more than a minute. But why wouldn't they want you to sing?
Steve: *snorts* Paragraph? Any relation to Grammar? Ain't got no idea why -that- one hates me. *grins* ...And, well, I can't sing worth a fuck. I can admit to that. Still think I should be able to, y'know?
Esther: Tragically obsessed with Grammar, if I'm not mistaken. It would be a pain if he didn't go around making eyes at anything that moved in the meantime. ...Ah, I see. Sure. It's not /really/ hurting them to listen, after all.
Steve: *raises an eyebrow* Riiiiight. 've known a few guys like that. *not sounding bitter at all, whee* ...'ll have to poke him about that if he gets on my case again. *grins* -Exactly!- That's my kinda opinion. I like you.
Esther: ...No, I really doubt you've known any guys like /this/. He's... the word my typist uses is 'special', and I'm inclined to agree. I don't know, you might want to pity the poor boy. Having someone like this Para kid pining after you has to do something bad to you. *shrug* I'm used to doing things people don't like. Usually saying things they're too panicked to deal with.
Steve: Well, 've known assholes who hit on everyone they see - *looks amused* Eh. I'll have to meet this kid sometime, then. *grins* I know someone like that, too.
Esther: They probably don't do it by ad-libbing a half-hour speech to your good qualities. I somehow doubt you'd like him very much. Even when he's talking about someone else, he sounds like he's talking about himself, forget when he actually /does/ talk about himself. *rolls eyes* Oh? Who?
Steve: *snorts* Oh, Christ. Sounds like a goddamn party. Doubt I'd like him much either. Might be nicer to the kid if he's got a stalker like that. *grins* My best friend. Ghost.
Esther: Apparently he drugged the entire bunch of headmates - the ones relatively socially acceptable - shortly before I arrived. Got the crap beat out of him for that, too. That seems to happen to him a lot. Aaah. *thinks* I met him briefly the other day.
Steve: *snorts* Nice. Nothing wrong with drugs. Though I guess if they didn't know about it, 's not exactly fair. *shrugs, then grins* Did you? What'd you think?
Esther: *certainly /does/ find something wrong with drugs, but that's not the issue* He slipped it into their tea. It was a stupid idea, judging by the reactions alone. His wrist still won't move the right way. Well.. it wasn't for very long. He was.. calm. Very together, I think, and easy to talk to. I'm sorry we didn't get to talk too long.
Honor: ((Honor: *very proud of that injury, thanks.*))
Esther: [Para: ....*wibbles*]
Steve: *doesn't!* *but...is special, as we've established.* *looks amused* Damn. Sucks for him, seriously. *tilts his head to the side and grins* That's Ghost. Impossible not to like him, really.
Esther: I can imagine. Have you known him long?
Steve: *nods* Twelve years.
Esther: I see. *not saying much because typist knows Steve is teh leaving*
Steve: *gets to his feet with his guitar* Well, 'm out for the night. Good to meetcha. *grins*
Esther: *waves* It was nice to meet you, as well. Good night.
Steve: *waves and heads out*
First we have Steve and Ann talking. And...it's kind of scary. Then Steve stresses to Ghost and Ghost makes everything better, as Ghost is wont to do.
Rated, as always, for cursing. And for subject matter.
Ann: *insert gratuitous mental cursing here*
Steve: *has his guitar in his hand and scowls faintly upon seeing Ann* *pauses, then goes over to lean against a wall somewhere nearby, not looking at her*
Ann: *watches him out of the corner of her eye* *and smokes* *smokes* *like a chimney*
Steve: ....*the smoking isn't really helping this whole withdrawal thing* *abruptly, not looking at Ann still* You know I killed Christian.
Ann: Did you? *exhales* Is there a reason you're telling me this?
Steve: *looking straight ahead* I did. I wanted to kill that fucker Zillah, but I got to Christian first. *jaw tightens* And I'm telling you so you have another reason to hate me.
Ann: *tenses* Why are you so desperate for me to hate you?
Steve: *twitches slightly* ...You do, don't you? Fuckin' should. What I did.
Ann: Yeah, I probably should. *takes a long drag* I don't, though. *looks like there's more she wants to say, but ...*
Steve: *freezes* *turns to look at her and -blinks-* ......you -don't-.
Ann: No. I don't. Not entirely.
Steve: *just stares* ...why?
Ann: Because - effitall, Steve, because I still /love/ you and I have no effing idea why but I /do/.
Steve: ......*just....very much in shock* *mouth moves wordlessly but...vocal chords are apparently dead*
Ann: *vaguely pleased with herself for sending him into this state* *but, y'know, sort of not* ....
Steve: *really can apparently not speak -at all-* *completely didn't expect this, so...just continues staring at her*
Ann: *shifts uncomfortably*
Steve: *lets out a slightly strangled noise* ... *hoarsely and barely audibly* ...-shit-, Ann...
Ann: .................................................Shit, /what/, Steve?
Steve: ...Christ, I don't -know!- *sounds a little frustrated and a little helpless, and the latter is increasing the former* You think I -knew- that?
Ann: Christ, Ste - no. Forget it. Just ... Forget it. As always.
Steve: ....well, damn, what'd I say -this- time?
Ann: ...Nothing, Steve. You didn't say anything.
Steve: Then what -is- it?
Ann: It's nothing.
Steve: Christ, Ann, no it -isn't.- I can fucking -tell-. [As I said in OOC, if anyone has a problem with teh rampant Steve-cursing, plz say so and I will curtail it.]
Ann: Fucking hell, Steve, I told you to forget it.
Steve: You just told me you still fucking loved me and I'm supposed to fucking forget it? *sounds frustrated more than angry, but with Steve that's hard to distinguish*
Ann: Yes, Steve. I told you that. And that's not what I'm asking you to forget. Or maybe it is. Fuck, I don't know anymore.
Steve: *leans against the wall, clenching his eyes shut* *mutters* Fuck.
Ann: *...gah. Feels icky and horrible. For some reason. Oops?*
Steve: *sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair* *mutters* This is fuckin' wonderful.
Ann: You're telling me. I'm just going to go ...
Steve: *opens his eyes, but still doesn't look at her* ... *barely audible mutter* ...y'don't have to.
Ann: ...Whatever you say. I'm getting a beer. *woo, kitchenifies*
Steve: *wants a beer SO BADLY RIGHT NOW*
Ann: *comes back out with the beer* ...Aw, shit. I forgot. You want one?
*tosses a can of beer at Steve, because..uh...yandros likes to cause chaos, and he has associated beer with chaos!*
Steve: *blink* *blinkblink* *catches the beer by reflex, then shakes his head at Ann* Can't. Promised a friend I wouldn't.
Ann: ...You're shitting me.
Steve: *shrugs and...is that the hint of a grin?* Just for a few days. 'll live.
Ann: ...Sure you will. Have you ever done it before?
Steve: *snorts* Maybe. Probably tried to forget it as soon as possible.
Ann: Knowing you? Yeah, probably.
Steve: *sets the beer down slowly, then turns and looks at Ann, tilting his head slightly*
Ann: *raises an eyebrow at him*
Steve: *looks a little embarrassed and glances away* *clears his throat* ...sorry.
Ann: .....*blinks* ...what did you just say?
Steve: *bites his lip* .....sorry....?
Ann: ...............................................You know, I don't think you've ever said that to me before. *still blinking*
Steve: *tenses and looks totally flustered for a second before groaning and closing his eyes again* ...-shit-, Ann.
Ann: What is it now?
Steve: *sighs heavily and leans back against the wall* .....I'm sorry.
Ann: Sorry for what?
Steve: For...everything. For being a fucking bastard. For...what I did. There's no excuse.
Ann: ..........................................*STARES AT HIM*
Steve: *has his eyes closed, so can't tell*
Ann: *....is probably not going to say anything anytime soon* *just ... gaping*
Steve: *opens an eye after a while to look at her*
Ann: *...still kind of gaping*
Steve: *raises an eyebrow*
Ann: I ... really have absolutely no idea what to say.
Steve: *shrugs awkwardly* Don't expect you to.
Ann: ...Well ... I ... thanks ... I guess?
Steve: *slight quirk that could possibly be a smile* *nods slightly*
Ann: ...I'm going to go. I'll see you around?
Steve: *nods* *pauses* ...take care.
Ann: ...You too. *leaves*
* Ann is now known as Honor
Steve: *has an "okay, what the hell just happened?" look* ... *collapses on a couch somewhere and grabs his guitar*
* MakingWithTehLurkage is now known as Ghost
Steve: *on a couch. with his guitar. vaguely out of it because...hey, previous conversation was -brainbreaking-*
Ghost: *slips in quietly, as usual, slightly distracted and a little twitchy, but we'll pretend we don't notice this* *sees Steve and heads that way*
Steve: *looks up and smiles faintly, stopping and sitting up to wave slightly*
Ghost: *gives a slight smile and wave back, then plops down next to him* Hey.
Steve: Hey. *flops back against the couch and sighs heavily* How're you?
Ghost: *half-grins* Hopped up on caffeine. How're you?
Steve: *snorts* Fun shit. *pause* ...talked to Ann.
Ghost: *bites his lip slightly* Oh?
Steve: *nods, closing his eyes* Apologized.
Ghost: *smiles faintly* Good for you.
Steve: *sighs again, running a hand through his hair* She....*breaks off*
Ghost: *bites his lip again and just...quietly watches Steve*
Steve: *barely audible* She doesn't hate me.
Ghost: *bites the inside of his cheek and gives an almost imperceptible not, looking down at where he's picking at the knee of his jeans*
Steve: *has his eyes closed, so can't see it* *clenches his hands into fists lightly* *even quieter and tensely* She said...she still loves me.
Ghost: *nods again, even though Steve can't see, and continues picking at the hole over his knee* *after a moment, almost inaudible* ...I know.
Steve: *sighs heavily* You would. *not sounding resentful, but resigned and frustrated, but at himself*
Ghost: *pulls a threed out of the jeans* *not sure what to say or do so...doesn't say or do anything other than chew on his lip*
Steve: *sighs again, running a hand through his hair* What the fuck am I supposed to do?
Ghost: *shrugs slightly, staring at his sneakers* *quietly* I don't know.
Steve: *yet another sigh* *opens his eyes to look at Ghost tiredly* I know. I'm sorry. I just...Christ. This is...I don't...*gestures vaguely and collapses back against the couch again*
Ghost: *glances back over at Steve but apparently doesn't have anything to say*
Steve: *sighs again and looks at Ghost a bit helplessly* ...'m sorry.
Ghost: *gives a small shrug* *quietly* For what?
Steve: For...*gestures vaguely again* Being fucked up.
Ghost: *grins faintly* You're Steve. I've gotten used to you being fucked up.
Steve: *faint grin in turn* You're probably the only person that can say that.
Ghost: *small shrug* Maybe. Then again, I'd never claim to be a picture of perfect myself. That might count for something when it comes to dealing with you.
Steve: *shakes his head* No one could find it hard to deal with you. I have, sometimes, but...'m an asshole.
Ghost: *shrugs again* 24-7? Anyone could find it hard to deal with anyone. *picks at the hole over his knee again*
Steve: *shrugs* We've done it.
Ghost: *nods* We have.
Steve: *sighs again and leans back, looking up at the ceiling* I just...*trails off and exhales* ...really can't form a fucking complete sentence to save my life right now, can I.
Ghost: *half-smiles slightly at that* Apparently not.
Steve: I don't know. *closes his eyes* I...told Tobias last night. About Ann. About the baby. About Christian. And he didn't hate me.
Ghost: *glances over at Steve again, head cocked slightly to the side* Sometimes it takes a lot more than you think to make someone hate you.
Steve: *sighs* But...-he- was raped. By his cousin. And...I can't understand it. I can't understand why -Ann- doesn't hate me. I can't understand why -you- don't hate me sometimes.
Ghost: *shrugs slightly* I can't speak for either of them, really. Not without stepping out of line, anyway.
Steve: *opens his eyes and tilts his head to look at Ghost* ...what about you?
Ghost: *shrugs slightly again and watches his knee as he picks at it* *quietly* I know you.
Steve: *watches Ghost for a few more seconds, then sighs and leans against him* *murmurs* You're the only one that does, really.
Ghost: *half-smiles* It helps that I have an unfair advantage.
Steve: *shrugs* Hey, use what you got.
Ghost: Mm. *pulls a few threads out of his blue jeans*
Steve: *leans against Ghost, absently watching the jean destruction*
Ghost: *this is what we call fidgetting Ghost* *has pretty much torn the entire knee out of his jeans now and stops when another wad of thread comes off* ...I think I had too much caffeine.
Steve: *grins slightly* No shit. Might wanna lay off.
Ghost: *mumbles* Had a headache.
Steve: *frowns* You okay?
Ghost: *shrugs slightly* Still having nightmares. They're not as bad as they were but... *shrugs again* *not totally answering the question, what?*
Steve: *tilts his head slightly to see Ghost properly* Need to talk about them? Or should I fuck off?
Ghost: *glances over with a faint smile* I don't remember enough about them to talk. They just...hurt. *looks back at his knee* ...but at least I know they're mine.
Steve: *frowns* ...and that's a good thing?
Ghost: *pauses for a moment, chewing at his lip* Better. Not good...but better. Better than dreaming the nightmares for everyone else. At least, whatever it is, it's meant to frighten -me-, not someone who'll never see it.
Steve: *nods slowly* Right. ...still ends up with you being scared, though. Which...sucks.
Ghost: *laughs slightly* Regular old Steve Finn observation.
Steve: *smirks faintly and pokes Ghost* Damn straight.
Ghost: *laughs again and elbows him, then sighs* I gotta get. *which sounds like "git," by the by* Seeya later?
Steve: If I can. *grins* Have fun.
Ghost: *smiles and shoves himself to his feet* Bye, then. *waves and heads out*
* Ghost is now known as Ghost-out
Steve: *curls up on the couch with the guitar and...pretty much ignores the world, whee*
And as a bonus, you get Steve teaching Esther McQueen how to play the guitar and discussing...random stuff. Yay inter-fandom interaction.
* Basil is now known as Esther
Steve: *playing guitar on a couch. because that's what Steve does.*
Esther: *walks in carrying a book probably stolen from the typist, and sees Steve-with-guitar, and sits on a couch opposite him*
Steve: *looks up and waves slightly to Esther*
Esther: *nods to him* Hello...?
Steve: Hey. Steve Finn.
Esther: Esther McQueen. *curiously examines the guitar*
Steve: Nice to meetcha. *grins slightly and gestures to the guitar* You play?
Esther: No, I don't. Music interests me-- but I don't have any skill in it myself.
Steve: Really? Could probably teach you. Guitar's not that hard, I taught myself.
Esther: Oh? I would certainly be interested in learning, if you wouldn't mind...
Steve: Sure. *shrugs* 've got the time to teach. And it's easy to pick up. ...you just gotta get your own. *grins*
Esther: It's very kind of you to offer. Where would I be able to get one around here?
Steve: *grins* No problem. *gestures towards the plothole* Can probably pick one up from there. Just think about it and you'll find one.
Esther: *blinks at the plothole, then goes over and... whee, pulls a guitar out of it. Imagine that* ...That's... a pretty neat trick. What is this thing, anyway?
Steve: I have no fuckin' clue. But hey, why question a good thing?
Esther: *grins* An excellent way of looking at it.
Steve: Right. *grins and gestures to the couch next to him*
Esther: *sits down*
Steve: *...er...the typist knows ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about guitars. isn't that happy? so...insert basics here.*
Esther: *...yeah, ditto here. So... yeah. Listens all attentive-like, because learning is fun*
Steve: *so...yes. this concludes the amount of learning one should usually get in their first lesson. which was totally done and such, and not just BSed by the typist. w00t.*
Esther: *whee! oh, of course it was totally done! no typists who fail at guitars here, nope. so totally done, in fact, that the typist will be listening to her practice for ages*
Steve: *failing? pshh, crazy tslk. and yay! much like this typist was woken up at 4am by Steve on guitar?* *grins* That should be enough for your first day.
Esther: *nods* Very interesting. It'll definitely give me something to do when I can't be out socializing. I only hope my headmates don't try to bludgeon me.
Steve: *laughs* One of mine plays too. And the typist kinda got pissed when I started playing this morning. Couldn't go back to sleep.
Esther: *amused* Mine have quiet hobbies. The ones that sleep during the day get annoyed at the typist for her piano.
Steve: *grins* Guess I'm lucky for the most part, then. Only time mine get annoyed's when I try to sing.
Esther: Most of the negative feelings among my headmates are angled towards Paragraph, for his apparent inability to keep his mouth shut for more than a minute. But why wouldn't they want you to sing?
Steve: *snorts* Paragraph? Any relation to Grammar? Ain't got no idea why -that- one hates me. *grins* ...And, well, I can't sing worth a fuck. I can admit to that. Still think I should be able to, y'know?
Esther: Tragically obsessed with Grammar, if I'm not mistaken. It would be a pain if he didn't go around making eyes at anything that moved in the meantime. ...Ah, I see. Sure. It's not /really/ hurting them to listen, after all.
Steve: *raises an eyebrow* Riiiiight. 've known a few guys like that. *not sounding bitter at all, whee* ...'ll have to poke him about that if he gets on my case again. *grins* -Exactly!- That's my kinda opinion. I like you.
Esther: ...No, I really doubt you've known any guys like /this/. He's... the word my typist uses is 'special', and I'm inclined to agree. I don't know, you might want to pity the poor boy. Having someone like this Para kid pining after you has to do something bad to you. *shrug* I'm used to doing things people don't like. Usually saying things they're too panicked to deal with.
Steve: Well, 've known assholes who hit on everyone they see - *looks amused* Eh. I'll have to meet this kid sometime, then. *grins* I know someone like that, too.
Esther: They probably don't do it by ad-libbing a half-hour speech to your good qualities. I somehow doubt you'd like him very much. Even when he's talking about someone else, he sounds like he's talking about himself, forget when he actually /does/ talk about himself. *rolls eyes* Oh? Who?
Steve: *snorts* Oh, Christ. Sounds like a goddamn party. Doubt I'd like him much either. Might be nicer to the kid if he's got a stalker like that. *grins* My best friend. Ghost.
Esther: Apparently he drugged the entire bunch of headmates - the ones relatively socially acceptable - shortly before I arrived. Got the crap beat out of him for that, too. That seems to happen to him a lot. Aaah. *thinks* I met him briefly the other day.
Steve: *snorts* Nice. Nothing wrong with drugs. Though I guess if they didn't know about it, 's not exactly fair. *shrugs, then grins* Did you? What'd you think?
Esther: *certainly /does/ find something wrong with drugs, but that's not the issue* He slipped it into their tea. It was a stupid idea, judging by the reactions alone. His wrist still won't move the right way. Well.. it wasn't for very long. He was.. calm. Very together, I think, and easy to talk to. I'm sorry we didn't get to talk too long.
Honor: ((Honor: *very proud of that injury, thanks.*))
Esther: [Para: ....*wibbles*]
Steve: *doesn't!* *but...is special, as we've established.* *looks amused* Damn. Sucks for him, seriously. *tilts his head to the side and grins* That's Ghost. Impossible not to like him, really.
Esther: I can imagine. Have you known him long?
Steve: *nods* Twelve years.
Esther: I see. *not saying much because typist knows Steve is teh leaving*
Steve: *gets to his feet with his guitar* Well, 'm out for the night. Good to meetcha. *grins*
Esther: *waves* It was nice to meet you, as well. Good night.
Steve: *waves and heads out*