oh, well, I don't mind if you don't mind (closed)

[sandrocker]

Who: Jason Todd (jaytodd), Quatre Raberba Winner (sandrocker)
When: July 19th, morning
Where: Quatre's apartment
Format: paragraph
What: Jason is a creep. Pope is Catholic, bears shit in woods, etc.
Warnings: tba?

Comments

"What" /laughing so hard. I don't think I can comment coherently.

[jaytodd]

Jason has worked all night - he is used to it. Having to get up during the day instead of sleeping, that's harder, but Anatole hasn't yet discovered the wonders of 24hours open shops, to great shame.
That doesn't mean he wants to sleep right now, though. He's wired and hungry, tired of the guys at the fucking Arena and the shit there. His jacket will soon be too warm with the sun rising, and the half bread in his pocket, only thing he has for food until his next pay, is this close from stale. So he's relaxing there, making his way on the roofs.

Open windows are fair game, buddy.

He just has to swing from the ledge above the window and nudges the window open a bit wider with his foot and he's inside, dropping softly on the floor. His knee creaks when he straighten up, and he raises an eyebrow at the inside of the apartment.

"Man, Quat'. This place looks worse every time I swing by. What do you do there?"

TRUFAX. lmao.

[sandrocker]

Quatre doesn't remotely indicate that he is aware Jason has entered his apartment, even when Lucrezia raises herself from the floor and growls at Jason. Nor does he turn to look at Jason when he speaks, simply flips a page in his notebook. It may seem like boredom or disinterest but is, really, an ease around Jason's presence. ...and maybe the factor of being sleep deprived. Just a little.

"Live?"

Also, water is wet, and Quatre neglects himself. Also I can't believe how much of an old married cou

[jaytodd]

Jason makes a face at the ghost dog, resisting the urge to growl back at it - he stretches his arms above his head, lets them fall back down when he passes into the kitchen.

"You got a messy way of living, kiddo." He takes the bit of bread and puts it on the counter, then shrugs his jacket off and tosses it on the bed. His shirt is riding up at the back, exposing his knife's scabbard and scarred skin, bluish bruises and fresher ones. He pokes at the water pot to see if there is still any in, finds something looking like a clean cup, pours water in it.

"You look like hell." Jason saw the notebook the other times already. "Anythign new?" He's also wondering if he can get away with taking the top leaves off Quat's tea, now that it looked darker enough.

(I can't believe how much of an old married couple that makes them sound.)

lol well. life partners?

[sandrocker]

When Jason approaches, Lucrezia nearly growls more, viciously and teeth barred - but a quick, sharp call of her name stops her short. So instead, the dog sits where she can watch the man and stare him much like she did with Quatre's Forge.

"You say that every morning you visit," but it is true. Dark circles are becoming more obvious under his eyes, and his hair is mess. (Somehow, he managed to dress himself and completely forgot to brush his hair.) None the less, Quatre doesn't think anything of the comment He feels like Hell, though, because his current bed was not made for comfort; a dull ache is beginning to form in his back because of it.

"How did you get bruises on your back?"

He closes the notebook, a clear "no" to Jason's inquiry, and moves from his seat. It has probably been a little over the minutes tea should steep, and Quatre removes the tea infuser from the teapot, stirring it to properly mix the tea. There is enough if Jason wants some, but he only pours himself a cup.