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[memorysurvives]

So some stuff happened in the Sanc, which may have included Allistar and May sort of flirting, Enzan calling Allistar a moron, and Allistar snagging a flyer from Hannah so he can contact her later about various trainings and failing to be at all secretive about it. And then? He followed Fish outside.

• Fish is there, sat atop a wooden picnic table, hunched over with his elbows on his knees. his back turned to the building. A cigarette smoulders in his hand, and his canvas messenger bag lies in the grass.

• Allistar is so very bad at letting sleeping dogs lie. Which is why he's come out the door a while after Fish left. He's worried, as he's wont to do, and just can't ever let things be. It's...kind of cold with no shoes on and just a t-shirt but oh well, he can manage and it makes his approach quieter than normal. "...Trouble you for a smoke?"

• Fish could probably smell him coming, if there happened to be any wind and it happened to be gusting in the right direction...but for the sake of Allistar's feet let's say there isn't any. His head turns, just enough to glimpse the approaching body in his peripheral vision, then faces forward again. He sits up to retrieve the pack of smokes from his inner pocket and holds it out to one side, silently.

• Allistar can deal with that. He takes the pack gratefully, standing beside the table because he doesn't want to make things any more awkward than they otherwise would be. It takes him a moment, and some fumbling in his pockets, but he manages a lighter as well so he doesn't have to further trouble the spook. The pack gets held out silently to be returned.

• Fish takes it calmly and tucks it home again, almost without looking; he does glance once to make sure he doesn't grasp for air. It may be noted that he's still wearing his sunglasses for whatever reason. ...And finally, after one particularly long drag, a held lungful of smoke and a slow, easy exhale, he clears his throat. "Find a room?"

• Allistar is messing with his lighter, cigarette in mouth, when he nods the affirmative. "Mm." He frowns a little, shaking the crappy bic, and tries again, finally getting a light. "Yeah, I did."

Fish: "How is it?"

• Allistar laughs, screwing up the smoke he was in the middle of inhaling and has to cough through it. "It's." He shrugs, lifting his arms with it. "It's a room. It has a bed."

• Fish glances at him, again, but doesn't share the chuckle. "Mn." He ashes his cigarette, turns his hand over, picks at the nail of his ring finger with just the nail of his thumb. Watching his own fingers move. "It's free, though, right? They don't charge anything here?"

Allistar: It was kind of a bitter chuckle anyway so it's better it went unshared. Allistar takes a drag for real this time, taking in a bunch of air with it before exhaling in something of a rush; he smokes like a noob. "Yeah. It and the food and stuff is free. And didn't require me bugging my brother, so it could have been worse."

Fish: He could ask about...any of those details, really, but he's been feeling self-indulgent for the past few days-- and these days have been full of unapologetic selfishness and apathy. It feels so good. So, instead, he just nods to give the impression that he cares. "Yeah."

• Allistar doesn't seem to mind either way. Hell, he's kind of glad Fish hasn't told him to fuck off. "So." Another little shrug and he looks at Fish from the corner of his eye. "...How're you?"

Fish: All right, now he does chuckle-- just one dry huff, and he's not exactly smiling, but the sentiment is clear. "Been better."

• Allistar could have figured but it was something to say--so now he's pretty much conversationally tapped. He ashes his cigarette for something to do and has another drag. "Keeping busy...?"

Fish: "Not really." Fish pauses again to shift where he sits, then sees something or other on his pant leg and has to wipe and scuff at it for a bit. "Freelance is dry right now. It's hard to find work when you aren't actually a real person." There; pants crisis handled. He settles again, drags, and goes on. "I'm thinkin' of seein' about some kind of ID, though. Like an alias or whatever. ...I've got one for Idaho, but not here." That being Gen's Idaho, of course, but he's not going to mention him outright. "Uhm, not here, back home."

Allistar: "Probably a good idea, yeah. Then you could get back out there?" Allistar stares at his cigarette, watching the lit end creep up and consume the rest. "You're a really good artist so you could probably get a nice corporate job or something. Production artist or art director maybe? I'm spitting out titles I've heard of, I have no idea what those people do, really."

Fish: "Nah...I'm not good at leading people, just bein' bossy." He says this without any trace of sarcasm, but hey, it could be taken as a joke. Even though it's true. "I dunno. It's a nice thought, but I'm not really looking to...re-integrate with society, or whatever. I just wanna be able to pay my bills when my money runs out."

Allistar: "Maybe consulting then? I don't know. Seems like that'd be able to keep you up." Allistar looks down at his wiggling toes and shuffles a little bit. "Probably give you more freedom. But. I mean. I don't know. Gotta have a soc and all that to do anything, it seems."

Fish: "I don't even really know what consulting is... and, uhm..." He pauses; considers; ultimately shrugs. "I don't really care." At least he's honest? "But yeah, all I've got is my Ret card, which, I'm pretty sure, is just the government's way of tracking me in case I start to show signs of, like...goin' batshit, takin' out a preschool or some'mn."

• Allistar laughs, short and kind of awkward. "Sorry." For what, who's to say.

• Fish merely shrugs again. "Eh... that's just how it is. Whatever, right?" He, at least, does not flip his shit when that word is uttered.

Allistar: It does, however, make Allistar smile a tiny bit. "Yeah. I just. I dunno. Wanna be helpful."

Fish: "Well, at least fuckin' somebody does." He says this under his breath only because it's the proper way to grouse about things. There will be no explanation for it, though. He just mashes his cigarette butt against the table and leaves it there, then folds his hands and lets them hang between his knees. Finally, a long sigh-- the kind that puffs out your cheeks a little. "Tell me I shouldn't do anything stupid just to lash out at somebody."

Allistar: "Well, you really probably shouldn't, but I guess it'd depend on what you're doing and who you're lashing out at." Allistar shrugs a little, wigging his toes again. "You know?" He tilts his head, looking at Fish very quietly. If the spook will let him, he'll move to sit on the very edge of the table so his bare feet will be off the ground finally.

• Fish doesn't object to this. There's a lot of free table. "I don't wanna go into detail. But, just... I know... I know I only feel like I need to lash out because I gotta try to control... stuff. I know that. But that doesn't make it any easier to get rid of that feeling, y'know? I know I'm being stupid, but I wanna do it anyway. God, people are so fuckin' retarded."

Allistar: "Not really," he replies after a moment, unclear as to which bit he's responding to. He notices he's down to filter and stubs out his mostly wasted cigarette; future super heros shouldn't smoke anyway. "Channel it into something else...or try to. Not...like I'm some authority on not fucking up though. So."

Fish: "I have been. I ate four times this week." For him, that's quite a lot. "Pretty much slept the last three days away, 'cuz that's the only thing I wanted to do that's even slightly constructive. But then...I dunno, I've spoken to him a couple times since, and he just..." For a moment he squeezes his hands together, fingers laced and clenching hard. "...He doesn't get it."

Allistar: It is a lot! But Allistar isn't going to open his big mouth to say so--all of this is very delicate ground and he doesn't want to screw up. "I don't know what's going on with the two of you. I haven't really talked to him since save some fail anon text. You know how crap I am at anon text." He smiles lamely, still looking at his feet. "He doesn't want to lose you as a friend if he's gotta lose you any other way. So. I don't know. I don't know if that helps for you to hear it or anything."

Fish: "It doesn't. And he's not losing anything." Here he goes. He hasn't raised his voice, but the tone is definitely...more assertive, let's say. "He's the one who broke it off. He said something really fucking inappropriate and insulting, like really, I can't even repeat it. And when I bit back, he fuckin' dumped my ass. And now he's been acting like it's /me/ doing this, like he's the fuckin' victim. Like always."

• Allistar holds up his hands, like he's afraid Fish is suddenly going to explode or get violent and turn it on him. "I don't know a thing about the situation. I haven't really asked either of you...because it's not my business, really." It's hard to sigh when one bites one's lip but Allistar manages. "It sounds shitty though."

Fish: "It is. It's really shitty. It's been like a year and a half, and we fought pretty hard to get to this point, and now it's like..." His hands slip apart from one another so he can gesture, both of them held out with fingers spread, like what, what is this shit. They come together again with a soft clap, relaxed knuckles to palm. "It's just so... ...I'm mad, I'm just really mad."

Allistar: "It's like all that time just got tossed out or wasted or something." Jesus, Asamar, what the hell did you say? "I don't know. It sucks how angry you both are." And how the soldier will never get back to him about sparring and all of that when he's more than willing to offer. "If there's anything I can do... ...Yeah?" He shrugs a little.

Fish: "The only reason he's angry is because he fucked up, and this time I'm not just rolling over and fixing it for him. I'm still fuckin' mad about it. And all he does is come to me, and say he's gonna take charge and fix it somehow. And I'm waiting. And he's not doing anything. He just says he is. And when I point that out, he gets pissed again. Just... rrrrgh!" He makes two fists, but they loosen quickly in favour of a tiny burst of flailing just in front of his own body. "It's stupid!"

Allistar: "For someone that's up on my case to fix my shit so often he has a real problem with fixing his own," Allistar murmurs. It's probably nothing he should say aloud but it's kind of annoying. Really annoying, actually.

• Fish hadn't meant to turn this into Let's Bitch About the General session, but now that the floodgates are open...he's getting pretty animated about it. "I know! He's a fuckin' hypocrite! And I mean, I admit I can be a little tough on him, but he's always like, okay, okay, okay. I'll work on that. I can do that. If it bothers him, he doesn't tell me to stop. He just takes it. He just takes it all. And he fuckin' sulks all the time."

"And when I finally say to him, yo, dude, you've turned into this big pussy, what the fuck, he's like... he just turns it on me." Now he's getting shouty. Grand hand gestures, too. "I'M the pussy, obviously. Out of the two of us, I'M the girl, I'M the faggot. Man, FUCK YOU." ... wow, okay.

Allistar: Wow indeed. Allistar would put in that they're both kind of women. And cruel, bitchy ones, at that, but... he likes his face where it is. Instead he stares at where he keeps lacing his fingers together. "I'd have to say that's pretty lame. If I were to come at it fresh or whatever you're a lot scarier than he is." Asamar is a little creepy but Fish can be scary.

• Fish contains his body language again, reassumes his slouch, folds his arms across his belly. He scowls down at the grass between his knees. His face feels so hot; now he regrets having said any of that. "It's not even about that. I don't want a fuckin' pissing contest. I don't care who's more manly or anything... I know I'm not. I'm not... anything. I just want my friend back."

• Allistar honestly doesn't understand what is stopping them, three quarters of the time. Even when they're together. It's not like he's going to open his mouth to anyone about Fish's outburst. He and Njoki are on the outs and...Fish and Asamar are really the only other people he talks to with any frequency. "If you want him back..." Allistar frowns, sighing. "Then you should get him back. It's not like he isn't going to offer. Maybe the two of you just need to sit down and talk with somebody. Like. Have a mediator or something so you don't kill each other. Because you both miss each other, right? So." It seems kind of silly to keep apart when all you want is to be near to each other.

Fish: "He said he wants to be friends, and that's all. ...And then he said he didn't, but then he did again. And I don't even know /what/ I want." With yet another sigh, he palms his own face and rubs it, paying special attention to the skin between his eyebrows. "I'm still not over Flowerclock. I'm not even over the /first/ time I died, or the shit that caused it. I'm fuckin' loaded like... all the time..."

"I just want everything to be easy. Just for once." Fish chuckles, suddenly and humourlessly. "I wouldn't even be sayin' any of this if I wasn't messed up, y'know? I'm all... ...I should just stay in bed."

Allistar: "Easy has it's own set of problems," Allistar offers. He smiles a little, rueful, and keeps looking at his hands. "Yeah, I know. Maybe it's good to get off your chest though. I'm at least pretty unbiased since I'm in your secret fanclub and all, right?" Allistar tilts his head slightly, looking at Fish's profile. "Staying in bed though isn't going to help anything. It's not gonna fix anything and so it probably will stop makin' you feel better at some point. Might make you feel worse." Back to looking at his hands.

"I think both of you have shit you need to work out. Both for yourselves and together. Mostly you should just figure out what you want? At least then somebody'll know. And one person being clear and upfront is better than no one being clear and upfront."

Fish: "True enough. It's hard, though...I keep thinkin' about it, trying to figure out what I do want, and I dunno. Part of me wants to say, like... fuck it... and just go. But the rest of me is just... I just can't. But I'm always the one who turns around and makes it okay again, and I don't wanna do it this time. I'm always cleaning up messes, anymore. I'm fuckin'...turning into my mom, or something. It's fucked up."

Allistar: "Knowing what you want doesn't have to mean cleaning up the mess he made, y'know," he clarifies with a little shrug. After a moment he leans back, tipping his head towards the sky. "Knowing is just a good basis to start from. If he can't live up to your expectations... Well. Maybe then you consider that you can't get exactly what it is you want."

"Maybe he just needs shit really laid out for him, made abundantly clear, you know? Don't detail how he can fix his shit for you in point by point detail but. ...Well. If you want him to do a certain thing, say so." That makes him smile a little weakly. "Shit could still go all wrong but at least then you have nothing to feel guilty about."

Fish: "That's exactly what I mean, though. I'm always explaining everything, and I don't /want/ to. It's always me who has to do it. It's like... unless I'm writing down instructions for him, he's just all, 'waaaarrrgh'..." And here he flaps his hands a little, slowly, with loose wrists, as if this completely illustrates the point he's trying to make. ...And it deterioriates into laughter, breathy and sort of hoarse.

• Fish drops his arms into his lap. "I dunno what that even means..."

• Fish just does the flappy thing again, after a beat, because he can. "warrrgh."

• Allistar cracks up a little. "The perfect likeness, dude."

Fish: "I know, right?" Hands still up, he makes a Very Serious face, and-- uh, by the way, his sunglasses were pushed up into his hair at some point back there, it should have been mentioned-- and he curls his fingers into slow fists, and shakes them a little. His voice lowers in what is apparently supposed to be mimicry of Gen. "Warrrgh, check out my diiiick, it is awesommme."

• Allistar laughs again, shaking his head. "The face sells it. Really." Still amused and trying not to be, Allistar smiles sort of shyly. "More seriously though. Just." Hang on, let him think about it. "If you're tired of explaining...then don't. You might just have to wait it out and let him figure it out for himself. Could take a while."

Allistar runs a hand through his hair distractedly, going on to say, "But if that's what you want and what you need. ...He's gotta man up. Instead of saying he's going to be better or fix himself he's actually got to...y'know? Instead of getting saved by you again which seems to kind of piss you off."

• Fish drops his hands again, lets them sink down between his legs (not that way, just down there), and squeezes his forearms between his thighs. His chin lifts, stretching out his neck, and he makes a thinky face. Yes, this is an odd position, but he is both odd and fidgety, what else is new?

"That's kinda what I've been saying. And I said that. But he just got confused and mad and went to bed or whatever."

• Allistar raises a hand. "In his defense... I guess it's not really something you can be told." Allistar chews his lip, trying to sort out how to word himself while his toes wiggle and fidget against the bench. "You have to decide to do it for yourself. And if you're not ready, even being told you need to do it isn't going to work, I think."

"...He's told me to fix my shit a handful of times but. I'm only just doing it now. Because I want to be better for myself. It has to count for you first and maybe...he's not there yet? I dunno." Fidgeting is pretty much go.

Fish: "Yeah, maybe. It's just... fuckin' messy. ...I've never been dumped before. I always did it first, or it was a mutual thing. I guess my ego's kinda hurtin' right now." He sniffs that habitual dry sniff, and sits up again.

Allistar: "Being dumped probably sucks," Allistar agrees quietly, his tone betraying that he wouldn't know. "Maybe... your ego just needed a break from his." They both have pretty big egos.

• Fish snorts. If Allistar looks his way, though, he'll see a little grin. "Yeah, that sounds about right." It suddenly occurs to him that this is the first time he's smiled in several days-- even if he's not completely feeling it, even if there's still a clenched fist in his guts, that's still something. "...Hey, c'mere."

• Allistar tilts his head first before sliding his gaze over that way. "Hmnn?" Yes? Him? As if there could be anyone else, and yet he still looks around like that might be the case before scooting a little closer. "Sup?"

• Fish drapes his arm across Allistar's shoulders. This should give him a good whiff of what Fish is all about: the smoke clinging to his clothes and his hair, the personal aroma of a pea coat that has probably never been washed, maybe the fading hint of some incense-like scent or other. The undertone of decay, at least, is blessedly absent. He gives those shoulders a little squeeze. "Thanks."

• Allistar smiles slightly, hesitant, and leans in just a little. Allistar himself smells like apples and strongly of old spice, probably covering up the smell of old sweat because he's kind of stupidly active. He doesn't seem to mind Fish's smell though and is happy for the thanks. "Y'r'welcome." It's been nice, actually, to sit and talk and act kind of like the adult he's supposed to be.

Fish: Secretly, he finds it kind of amazing that he hasn't wanted to punch Allistar in the head at any point during this conversation. It's not often that he gets truly useful feedback from...well, anyone. The General tries, bless him, but you can't advise someone on their problems when their problem is you. And now...

• Fish turns his face away, not to cringe or vomit or any such thing, but to perform a cavernous yawn, the likes of which mankind has never before seen. "hrrrh! ...umnh. I guess I should go to bed."

• Allistar is trying kind of very hard at this whole 'not being an annoying fuckhead' thing since he moved out of Njoki's place. So yeah, okay, maybe a lot of what he was saying about the General? Could be applied to himself. But he's not the one who's in trouble here so it's all good. "Probably. We've been out here a while." Allistar yawns himself. "Contagious," he comments quietly. "Stupid yawn. I should get in myself though. We've been out here a while." He bites his lip on a small smile. "I'd say something about my toes falling off or something but I doubt my healing factor would let that happen. I'll just be a little cold." He has been feeling a little cold, at least dressed like he is.

• Fish looks sideways without turning his head, then lets his arm slip away. "...I'mna ask you some'mn kinda personal, now. M'kay?" Thanks to tonight's libations and the creeping desire to sleep, he has been gradually losing syllables left and right. Try to get him to talk about his home, you might get a 'Picksburb' out of him. "You don't gotta answer if you don' wanna."

• Allistar arches a brow, unsure if he really wants to know--but he's curious as ever so he gestures vaguely. "Yeah. Shoot. Then I'll decide if I wanna answer, yeah?"

Fish: "Are you lonely? ...I mean... in bed. --Sleeping! Oh my God." He palms his own face, just for a beat. "I've gone retarded... I just mean, like..." Argh. His cheeks, how they burn. The blush isn't apparent, though (yet).

• Allistar laughs a little, just faintly awkward. Because yeah, he's lonely. He's always kind of lonely. And then Fish just keeps making it worse. "Hah. Heh. No, I...I think I know what you mean." He's just not sure how to answer, is all, so he'll card his fingers through his hair and keep quiet a second. "...A little bit, yeah."

"It's kind of weird being in my room...just me." At least at Njoki's place there were people and things around. The room he's got now, it has to be soundproofed or something because even if there's people in the Sanc he can barely hear a damn thing. It's...disconcerting.

Fish: "Yeah. I hate it." He says this casually, but still, there's no mistaking that he means it. And, secretly, he's always lonely too, despite everything-- he tends to succumb to a pensive and often sad look when he thinks no one is watching. "D'you wanna..." He pauses, but not for too long. ...um. Right, masking awkwardness with mild silliness: go. "Sleep-over?"

• Fish even does a weak flash of jazz-hands. ~slumber party~

• Allistar gives Fish a vaguely skeptical look, though it's terribly unclear why until: "Are you gonna paint my toes this time?" His smile pretty much betrays him, yeah.

Fish: "Fffh... no. ...Unless you've got that shit in your room, then all bets are off." He has decided that they will stay here, evidently.

• Allistar huffs another laugh. "God knows, I might. You'd have to look in the box I haven't unpacked." It might be there with the eyeliner. It's nonessential! "C'mon. I'll pile blankets on top of you." Because that's pretty much the one thing he does have. "And you can have the bed." Because he's a good host.

• Fish is not going to go after the make-up, for the record. being called a faggot by his best friend has pretty much destroyed his desire to frolic amongst the faggot-trees in any way beyond suggestion, at least for the time being. ...Except for this, because it doesn't count, because it is purely platonic: "We could share it if you want. I don't care." He sez, and gets down from the table.

Fish: "I get to be the big spoon, though." He may be grinning as he collects his canvas bag from the ground.

• Allistar rolls his eyes but smiles, nodding as he gets up and sort of shakes all his limbs out. They're not exactly stiff but they feel a little weird and he will chalk it up to his body being weird. "I'm okay with being the little spoon. The bed is really comfy." And the floor is not, so yay! Allistar will lead the way to his room after a second, getting dirt from his feet everywhereeeee.

• Fish follows like the sleepiest duckling. He won't be awake for very long once they've settled in-- soon enough he'll have crashed on the bed like a three year old, probably still wearing his vest and everything, with his face half mashed into a pillow. This is not at all conducive to being the big spoon. Enjoy your dead teddy bear, Allistar! (At least he'll be breathing a little, albeit very slowly.)

...Granted, he will spoon it up if roused and bidden to do so. But if not... then, so be it.

• Allistar is secretly a mom type--it's a Hackett thing, apparently--so he'll just tuck Fish in and make sure he's comfortable...and then Allistar will totally play big spoon, sort of, by snaking an arm around the spook and kind of cuddling up to his side. Smell and body temperature are no deterrents here! And he might even sleep well which will be an added bonus.

• Fish will likely sleep for a good fifteen hours, if not more-- when Allistar turns on a light the next day, no matter how small it is, he will grunt and frown and turn away from it, but that's all. ...And they all lived happily ever after, the end.

And thus the cut text was TERRIBLY MISLEADING.