i slowly become some why that you live with [VFW: Ramon]

[tendencytostart]

There are few things St. John dislikes worse than being cooped up because nature is doing something that prevents him escape. Amongst those are root canals, the Shop, and getting seeds stuck in his teeth

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[susurrosmuertos]

Ramon appreciates no bar-going. Booze was never, and will never be, his thing. And every time St. John drinks, it will eventually occur that he'll make Ramon do so too. So just staying to the cot area is nice. It's quiet here. Well, relatively so, barring the howling and hammering rain outside.

But the silence seems to beg something as well. It's like that feeling you get when you figure you should be saying something, that this is a moment that requires a particular profound statement or specific question, but it's not coming to him. Or he's afraid to say it.

He misses Nica. And it's a pretty sure thing that St. John misses her too, if not more. But talking about it, about her...It's funny that, in a world so full of death, and with Ramon in particular and his constant awareness of it, it's something that's had a giant, steel-clad taboo slam down between him and St. John

[tendencytostart]

St. John still operates, a lot of the time, like she's going to show up at any second, like she was just tired. He'd pushed two cots together before he'd really thought about what he was doing, which naturally resulted in a lot of angryfacing...ness and shoving belongings in between the cots, just to make it clear they were not supposed to be next to each other, goddammit.

"Think the roof leakin's the least of our problems, mate." He doesn't elaborate much on this, because apparently Ramon is expected to be able to understand what St. John is thinking at all times. If not, at least he can surely feel the weirdness in the air. ....more so than is around St. John at the best of times.

Weirdness aside, he shoves a pawn listlessly in the taller boy's direction. To um...something. Rook 2? Yes. What. CHESS IS CONFUSING.

[susurrosmuertos]

"Y-...Yeah. I guess-...I guess so." His eyes are drawn down from the ceiling when he sees the movement of the chess piece take place, and there's hardly a pause or hesitation for his returning move: a pawn one row down pushed two squares in turn. Then his eyes are roving again, looking over the ceiling, the cots, their bags

[tendencytostart]

A chess move of some kind has occurred, which causes St. John to mumble something horrifically vulgar under his breath. He would most probably do this no matter what happened.

Some of the deliberate portal-arrangement has not gone unnoticed, although it has gone undiscussed for one specific reason: if Nica came back, and Ramon could see her and he couldn't, well. St. John would be so jealous he'd do something testosterone-laden and stupid, such as punch a wall. Or Ramon. And so he's come to the conclusion that he just doesn't want to know, if she's gone then let her be gone and let the ragged hole where she used to be close up and scab over already. He remembers when it was all right, even good to be alone all the time; it's a feeling he tries like hell to get back.

It's not working. In any event, he does answer Ramon after a time, shifting to lean his chin in one hand on his knee, where naturally his face is attacked by his hair. This is how things go. "Everything does. After a while."

Yes, just talkin' 'bout Shaft the

[susurrosmuertos]

"I d-dunno. Sometimes, things just-..."

There's a sudden stab of mourning, one so powerful, it almost physically feels like a hard, cold object is being jabbed into his chest. A twist of the heart and gut caused by missing someone. And he's shocked to realize that it's not Nica who he's thinking about in this case. It's his brother, Diego. It feels fresh and real again, this sadness that can only be caused by someone close who's now left the living forever. Just for a second, he's back in that hospital in Spain, remembering when he slowly collapsed onto the floor and howled like a wounded animal in his sorrow at what the doctors had told him and his parents about the results of the car crash. Why did this suddenly come back to him? Maybe it was what St. John said, about it going away eventually. Maybe it's because Nica's gone too now. Maybe it's because

hospital

hospital

back in that hospital...And then it's gone. Ramon blinks like coming out of a dream, feeling a great deal like he suddenly remembered something incredibly

[tendencytostart]

St. John watches the flurry of emotions go by dispassionately - depending on his various lights and moods it's easy to read one of two ways. Either he doesn't care (still a little too true to class him as any kind of decent person) or he hates having his own feelings invaded and is reacting accordingly: being asked 'what's wrong' or the equivalent thereof is repugnant

[susurrosmuertos]

He sniffs, which maybe was intended to sound dismissive, or just one of those sounds you make to cover up how uncomfortable you feel, but, as with all things Ramon-related, it sounds pathetic. He ducks his head and rubs a hand at the back of his neck, causing his bangs to fall all the more severely into his face

[tendencytostart]

"You know," St. John returns conversationally, hair hiding most of his face (which is probably fortunate), "if you were going to lose it, you'd have done already." This is an entirely new take on cold comfort, but Ramon probably knows better than to expect more. Whether or not it's sufficient - because really, what could be - is certain to be buried somewhere in the cobwebby back of St. John's brainmeats, along with things like common decency and when was the last time he had a haircut.

Still, on the subject of certainty, he does sound it, like this is the only logical conclusion to come to. If Ramon isn't a gibbering wreck already, he ought to be fine. Again, cold comfort - for a boy who can freeze things with a touch or a glance, Bobby Drake very often has about a thousand times more warmth than St. John. Oh the delicious irony. It tastes like pancakes

[susurrosmuertos]

"...You really think so." It's kind of hard to classify that statement. The wording sounds hopeful, is phrased like a question, but is said in a flat tone that isn't quite skeptical and certainly doesn't have that lilt of an inquiry. Ramon will always be a failure at normal human inflection, so you're welcome to take that as you will, St. John

[tendencytostart]

"It's a VFW," he informs the other boy (who is always going to be a boy around here, friends, until he is 80 - presuming any of them live that long). "Whatever the hell that is." The concept of 'Veterans of Foreign Wars' for the two of them is probably at least a slightly muzzy one, running the gamut from subtly to completely foreign as they do themselves.

Not that the rest of this statement isn't obviously the more important part. St. John is just going to take his sweet damn time grooving over to the new conversational plane. Apparently since he is miserably losing at chess he will take his small pleasures where he can find them. Obstinate goob.

Thus, rather than asking probing questions which might indicate that he cares in some fashion, he will just lean back in his chair and cross his arms over his stomach. Do continue, Ramon!

[susurrosmuertos]

There's a long silence in which Ramon seems to either be waiting for St. John to make his move, or to keep speaking. He'd spent this time either studying the board or the ceiling. (He's pretty sure he just felt some water hit his neck.) But when there's neither after a good minute or so, it occurs to him to actually look at St. John and realize that he's looking at him in that aloof, expectant way. Oh.

"...Uh. She-...Yeah. Little girl? There was...another little girl in here tonight too. A-...She was, you know." He makes a pained frown at just recalling it. But Ramon's aware he's probably not being clear enough, so he muscles his way through saying it as best he can. "...The other little girl was...one of them." Don't make him say 'dead'. Please. "And th-the one who was talking to me, she-...She could see her too."

He looks up at his companion across from him, eyes wide in confusion. "But she didn't seem scared."