Who: John Egbert and Eddie Riggs
When: Early Sunday Morning.
Where: Suite 30, Eddie's Forge.
Summary: From one derp to another, life in Facility is hard. John and Eddie share some moments of tenderness while bending steel to their will.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Two lovable, derpy, foul-mouthed blacksmiths.
(
One must place one's soul between the hammer and the anvil. )
Comments 7
"You're up early, kiddo," He walked into the work room after making his presence known. The black haired man plucking a unopened water bottle from the would be fridge they had tucked in the corner and placing it near John. A unspoken fatherly jab to get the buck toothed teenager to take a break.
"You just felt like workin' on the forge I take it?"
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"We've got a lot of back orders. Figured I'd help you plow through them." It was a bad lie, even John knew it. He did want to help, but he had to at least make a show of trying to be tough. He wasn't a slouch around Eddie. He grabbed the cap of the water bottle and twisted the cap off, pouring cold water down his throat.
Truth of the matter really was that he was still trying to vent.
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Yeah, John was right on the money. Eddie was not 100% buying that nor going to let John get away with it. Call it foster father fussing. "I appreciate the help, but usually you're sleepin' still," Eddie made his way over to the forge itself to look over John's handy work. He giving a quick approving nod at the work so far.
"You know you can always come in, whenever." He added as he stood up at his full height again after peering down at the metal. "So, you might wanna tell me what's up."
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"...It's just. The last few weeks and the recent string of terminations have been getting to me, really badly."
He moves over to a cloth to wipe the sweat from his brow,taking another drink of water, his eyes remain closed and his focus seems more towards the floor than up towards one of his foster parents.
"I mean... they got fuckin' Sora, of all people. He was here longer than most of us. And he wasn't even their definition of broken, he had friends, he had family, and they still threw his ass in the incinerator."
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