trans_9 | If I Have to Lie, Steal, Cheat or Kill [Semi-Open]

Entry tags:

If I Have to Lie, Steal, Cheat or Kill [Semi-Open]

Howard hasn't gotten a full night of sleep since a little before they landed on Galilee. The events of that particular mission certainly haven't helped. Recently he's taken up to squinting to combat the way his eyes feel as if they're covered in dustbunnies and sand, and his usual skittishness has turned into an unconscious twitch and tremble.

After spending at least a few hours of the night pacing the Warehouse, now otherwise devoid of life except for him and Emergency Rations the Cat, he finally sinks to his anxious instincts and pulls open the hidden closet to reveal the cans and cans of non-perishable food. Then he closes the door again, places back the wall panel. That's for emergencies. That's for starvation.

He checks Albert's room again to see if his business partner has magically appeared back in his bed, but the immaculate, orderly room remains empty. It's not even as if he liked Albert. If pressed, he might even admit to hating him. But Howard doesn't like that someone in his life has vanished without warning. He's had bad experiences with that.

Emergency Rations follows him to the front door. She brushes up against his legs while he puts his shoes on, and for a moment on the floor he pulls her to his chest and breathes into her fur. Then he fills her bowl up with more kibble, taking a handful for himself, and locks her inside the house while he heads to Hydroponics.

He passes the beer tree, passes the carnivorous plants, and finds a quiet little nook with exactly what he's looking for - fruit trees.

The fresh, strange fruits within arm's reach don't last him all that long - partially due to his relatively small stature and their slick, unclimbable bark. But there are some on the ground, if rotten. He's not picky. He gathers them from around the surface roots of the trees and sets them in one sloppy, oozing pile.

He sits with his back against one of the trees, resting his head on a loose knot and swallowing pieces of overripe fruit while barely chewing. It's a temporary comfort. Just because people disappear on Stacy doesn't mean she's about to put them in some death trap. Stacy's always been like this, taking people when it makes sense to her. It's just never been someone close to Howard.

Thinking about how he's the only person from the FAYZ still awake here sends a shiver down his back, but the sweet juice in his mouth does well to remind him that he's not back home, not in the FAYZ, not buying time from death, not going to go hungry again.

[OOC: Due to the tone of this post I'd like to keep this limited to a few threads; hit me up in PM or AIM if you want to tag here. I'll be having a less wangsty open post for Howard up in a few days for those interested in getting CR with him under different circumstances.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I try to remain an optimist in the face of universes ceasing to exist," Tim quipped, with raised eyebrows in mock incredulity at Howard.

"Sounds rough," Tim frowned. "For the both of you, I mean. Friends in bad situations can be as bad as being in them yourself." He shook his head, then added, "I take it you can't make him consider his own life a bit more, then?" He could understand both sides, really. He'd had friends in very bad situations and he'd shown a disregard for his own safety often enough. 'Occupational hazard' was about right.

Tim laughed slightly, then said, "Mostly the second one, I guess."

"I was an optimist! For about five years, then I had to start going to school and got that kicked out of me. Literally." He mimics Tim's expression. Expressive faces are always a plus in Howard's book.

"Not a chance. He doesn't listen to me. He's the only person I know who hears an explosions and run towards it before it's even done going off." And even more than the not-so-appealing idea of going back to the FAYZ, he's most worried about, if they succeed, Zouichi going back to his world to inevitably die on his mission.

Tim laughed quietly again at that, and nodded, but he was still cataloguing this stuff. "I guess that would do it, then," he said, with an edge of sympathy in his voice.

He shifted how he sat slightly, still frowning to himself. "I guess he's just really invested in that stuff then. One of those hero types?" he asked.

At first, Howard wants to laugh at Tim and ask Tim how would he know what it's like to be really badly bullied, but as he opens his mouth to say something, he does take into account that Tim's not all that much taller than he is. That Tim has a certain youthfulness to his face, that could be read as vulnerability to someone looking fr a target.

That Tim's an orphan. So instead Howard just pretends he was opening his mouth to take another chomp out of his fruit, shrugs and says, "well, at least you weren't black at a mostly white school."

He nods. "Completely. Normally I can't stand those types, but he's good people. Nice. Doesn't put up with my bullshit. Has really bad taste in pets. He's letting me stay over most nights."

Tim watched Howard's actions closely, aware that they seemed off, but not pushing it in any way. Instead, he grimaced at what Howard said, nodding. "That's true. I was lucky in that regard, I guess." No need saying anything about that Tim actually avoided most kids at his schools, that bouncing around private schools was his thing as a kid. But he'd seen enough bullying-- other schoolmates-- to understand, dealt with them sometimes personally as Tim. And he remembered what happened in his public high school, to a friend. With bullies having gone to far. Another thing Tim can't forgive himself for.

Tim smiled softly at that. "He sounds like a pretty good friend," he commented. "Especially if you're putting up with something you don't normally appreciate."

Howard runs a hand over his face, trying to brush away how tired he is. Maybe he should call it a night and just sneak back into Zou's inn again, but at least he's not alone right now and there are still three and a half fruits left. He can't just let those go to waste.

"Yeah. He is." He cracks his neck and takes another bite. "So, aside from Sleeping Beauty in the pods, do you have any friends on this ship or just acquaintances?"

Tim frowned as he watched Howard's movements, noting the tiredness but also the reluctance to move. He wondered if the boy was planning on going any time soon. "You're not too tired?" he asked, testing the waters.

Tim shook his head at that. "Not really any friends, no," he admitted. "I've talked to people, sure, I guess I just haven't really hit it off with anyone. There are definitely some good people here, though." Of course, as Red Robin that was a different story.

Edited 2011-09-05 19:33 (UTC)

"I've been too tired. I couldn't sleep an hour ago without getting up every ten minutes to make sure I'm not covered in flesh-eating bugs, so what are the odds that the extra sixty minutes did me any good?" he snaps, then looks apologetic. He knows Tim's only trying to help, but he's tired of feeling like good intentions will never be enough to fix the problem. "Maybe I'll go home and figure out how to whip up chloroform."

That's curious. Tim's been here at least as long as Howard has, if he was on the marrying planet mission, and even Howard's managed to make friends. And he's been told he's notoriously prickly. Which means Tim makes even less of an effort than Howard does. "So you're a hermit."

Tim winced, for show if nothing else, at Howard's snap, but he relaxed at the apologetic look. "Fair enough," he said to that, frowning still. "I can't say chloroform's a great idea, though." He shrugged, "I can't blame you though-- sleepless nights aren't particularly enjoyable."

Tim laughed at that. It was a bit more earnest, this time, and he smiled slightly. "I guess maybe I am," he said. He was curious about how much Howard was picking apart, the way he was doing with him. "I tend to hang back a lot, I guess. I've gotten along with people-- Ronnae's nice enough, Rory seems like a good guy. I guess it's just not much more than that, yet." He shrugged for emphasis.

"I've been up for like, two straight days. My skin's vibrating." He sighs and takes another bite, then pauses and gestures to the remaining fruit. "You want one?"

Given how Howard feels about the food, it's a generous gesture, a motion of gratitude and apology to Tim. It doesn't really occur to Howard that most kids wouldn't have the faintest interest in the old fruit, if they weren't outright repulsed by it.

"Ronnae's nice enough, but she seriously needs a spine. Rory's...Rory's good people." He thinks through his list of people he spends time with. It's short. "Karis is pretty chill. Mostly I stick to hanging with the rest of medical, though."

Tim frowned. "I'd say that's not healthy, but I'm pretty sure you know that," he said. He was about to say more-- but then Howard offered him one of the fruit. He was actually genuinely surprised at the gesture (something that was, admittedly, fairly hard to do). Howard's feelings about food and waste were pretty obvious, after all, and so the gesture itself meant more than it would have coming from someone else. Of course, to Tim that meant it was something to be treated carefully-- dealing with an offer like that could be delicate. While he didn't get that Howard was sensitive about it... on the other hand, he wasn't keen about the idea, though he could stomach it.

"Thanks," Tim said, and flashed a smile-- a bit more genuine than most of his early ones had been, because he did appreciate the offer for what it was. He nodded, reaching for one of the fruits, and taking it carefully in his hand. He listened to Howard closely while he thumbed the fruit in his hand, taking a careful bite before he responded.

He nodded his agreement. "I guess so," he commented. "Medical seems pretty tight-knit, from what I've seen. I get that vibe."

"Yeah, I think we might have covered that in my medic training," he says dryly. "Or nutrition class. One or the other."

He watches Tim take the fruit, giving a small, but genuine, smile back. Howard's not really looking for friends, but he knows that even mild insomniacs have better things to do with their time than spend it talking down a panicky basketcase of a teenager.

"It's sort of like..." He wrings his hands as he tries to find a way to put Medical. "It's like a family reunion, except people actually are doing interesting stuff and there aren't any cousins around to beat you up. I mean, it's not family, it's not like that, but it sort of feels like people have your back, you know?"

"I'd hope so," Tim replied idly, voice nearly as dry. "It seems pretty important."

Tim chewed and ate carefully, with a little bit of effort, but he could manage it. It was the principle of the thing, then.

But he smiled again, just a small one, as Howard explained how Medical was. "No, I think I understand," he said with a nod. Considering his own 'family'. "It sounds nice, though-- family or no."

"I mean, sleeping, eating, drinking, videogames and sarcasm. What else do growing boys need to survive?" Not that he's growing much. He's been measuring himself to see if having a regular food supply has helped him finally hit that growth spurt, but the pencil mark on his wall has steadfastly refused to move upwards. It only gets thicker.

He furrows his brow a minute, partially in thought and partially because his eyes are dry. "...Out of curiosity, how'd you end up with your adoptive dad?"

Tim smiled at that. "Can't think of anything else," he replied, casually, before he let out a thoughtful hum. Of course, he'd basically finished his own growing, too. "Maybe comic books," he offered. "For a change of pace from time to time." He realised it was geeky. But at least he didn't mention tabletop RPGs.

Of course, the more lighthearted jokes were kind of derailed anyway, when Howard decided to ask more about Tim's family. He frowned, taking another bite of his rotted fruit, less hesitant this time. Chewing carefully, before he finally decided on saying "he was my neighbour and a family friend. He took care of me when my dad couldn't. So since there was no family..." it was natural. Especially given his role as teacher to Tim.

Howard face lights up a bit when Tim mentions comic books. He's always been a bit gun-shy about mentioning them since it got him shoved into a locker in fourth grade. "Man, I love comic books. It's total bullshit that the Media Library doesn't have any of the good ones. Although, I guess, I don't know. Maybe I should give Watchmen another go."

Howard nods, turning that over in his head. "Were you like...looking for family?" He's not really asking so much to know more about Tim, anymore, but trying to pick at the tangled knot of fear, resentment and need that is his own relationship with Rory.

Tim had always been pretty good at preserving a delicate balance at school. It was his friends that had issues because of being 'geeks'. Tim laughed slightly, and nodded. "Yeah, it's too bad. Can't say I wouldn't mind reading some old Clockwork Commando, for nostalgia's sake if nothing else." He was a little wistful, before he said, "Watchmen's worth it. Maybe a bit messed, but worth it."

But on a much darker note of conversation, Howard was broaching a less comfortable subject. Tim frowned a little, shifting the fruit in his hands, as if thinking about how to reply to that. He knew how to explain the situation, of course, but still. "Bruce will never be my dad. He knows that, and he doesn't expect to be. But... if nothing else, he gave me a home." He shook his head, then said, carefully, "He is family though. I mean, he means a lot to me and I've known him for a long time. It just didn't have much to do with the gesture, either, you know?"

((ooc: It took me a while to decide how to approach Watchmen. :P Also this is my only icon featuring Bruce what even. :|a))

"I'll give it another try, then. I didn't like it because it was so dark and depressing last time, but I don't know, I guess I've sort of grown out of the good always triumphs part of superheroes." Even before the FAYZ, although that would have certainly kicked it out of him.

Howard nods, noting Tim's hands, the way the fruit has turned from food to an object to mull with, and he decides not to push Tim any further in that direction. He takes another bite of his own fruit. "Okay. That makes sense. I was just...I don't know, I feel like some people here assume everyone needs a parent and I didn't want someone to try and take me in." And now he's not so sure.

It feels strange, unloading these thoughts on a relative stranger, but maybe exhaustion has just let his guard down.

"Fair enough," Tim said, grimacing a little bit. "I prefer my heroes clean, over all, but..." He shook his head. That wasn't much of a train of thought he wanted to get into after all. Even if he was done with grey.

Tim nodded to that, taking a bite of his own fruit as he considered it, listening. "I know what you mean," he decided on eventually, giving Howard a little bit more than he had intended to originally. He wasn't exactly going to explain his fake uncle, after all. "I didn't want it at first. I didn't want to be taken care of or whatever. But it was the best option and..." He shook his head, taking another bite, then said, "I appreciated it, in the end. It just took a bit to warm up to the idea, I guess." There, that was a more reasonable version of the story.

"I mean, they don't stay clean. In real life, I mean. So it's nice to see them all perfect in the comics, but after a while you start getting jealous, I guess. Jealous of something that doesn't exist, if that makes sense." And the superheroes on the ship have done little to change his mind.

Howard bites his lip again, giving Tim a bit of the side-eye. As much as he's digging for his own answers, he can tell a measured answer when he hears one, and Tim's is just vague enough and precisely obtuse enough that, to Howard, he might as well have lit up a giant "I don't want to talk about it" sign.

If Tim hadn't kept him company and been so tactful about the bingeing, Howard might press the issue for the sake of being obnoxious, but instead he respects that and lets it drop.

"I guess so," Tim agreed, but he frowned, unsure if he really wanted to consider that too much. With all the crap that had happened to him, to many of the others he knew, the things that had happened or been done... well. Yeah, maybe it'd be nice if things were 'perfect' or whatever. "I guess they're only human, too, though. Well, most of the time."

On one hand, he is thankful Howard didn't push too much into the uncomfortable territory, on the other he was disappointed to lose the opportunity to delve further into Howard's mind, too. Still, at least he had observation.

"Yeah. Good old humanity. We do an awesome job killing each other even without the aliens." He shakes his head and finished the last piece of fruit. He smears his fingers across the grass trying to sop up the last bits of juice - when that doesn't yield much in the way of results, he uses the edge of his shirt to mop some of it up and sucks on the fabric. He feels as disgusting as it looks.

"I guess I should go home. Um. Try and sleep and all that." Probably do a lot of pacing and tossing and turning. "You look like you could use it too."

"Something like that," Tim mumbled, fairly non-committal. He makes a point not to watch Howard too closely as he finished off the fruit, instead focusing on the last of his, acting as if to pretend there was no big deal about how Howard was acting. It made sense, after all, given the rest of the behaviour and experience.

He nodded, and moved to straighten himself up, pulling himself to his feet. "Right, that sounds like a pretty good idea, actually." He flashed a kind of smile, reaching out a hand to offer to help him up, watching for the reaction. "Maybe at least one of us will have better luck this time."

He doesn't take Tim's hand, but he doesn't shrink away from it either, which he probably would have done an hour ago. He just pretends in vain that he didn't notice it as he gets up and tries to wipe his sticky hands off on his shirt and pants.

"Yeah. Chloroform's like, carbon, hydrogen, chlorine....three. Or something." He's still kidding. Sort of. "Make sure you put up a mosquito net for Stacy's tentacles."

Tim just let his hand drop silently, not bothered by it, and also not pushing it in any way. He saw what he wanted to, anyway.

"Sounds close enough to me," Tim agreed, because 'Tim' didn't have any reason to know if it was right or wrong. Of course, Howard knowing it... He smiled a little and said, "Yeah, sounds like a plan. I'll see you around, then." He cast a wave, and ducked out.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

If I Have to Lie, Steal, Cheat or Kill [Semi-Open]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

aww, it is a cute icon.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject