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WHO? Midnighter

thingpuncher, Noctis

fessus, and Hei

dipolar
WHAT? A BASE chat becomes a TDM nightmare.
WHEN? Post-shapers, just pre-TDM.
ANYTHING ELSE? Why not.

[ He’s not sure which has a greater potential for disaster: all three of them meeting up in person after the unintentionally volatile events of the shaper infestation or his broiled eel. He props open the oven door after deciding it’s the latter, having purposefully waited for a time that Angel would be in one of her all but comatose states after staying up far too long on the network. At least they have a few things in common. ]

>>TO: @TRENTCOAT, @BURGERKING
Hey Hei, M, I have you both on this. Swing by capsule 14 when you have a sec.

[ There’s a brief pause before the second message comes as obvious enticement. ]

it’s food-related.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

... Aren't they in a tank? Fair enough.

(these two...

drops his pack to the side and takes his own seat with an awkward scrape in, staring down at the eel with a critical eye. like he said, it isn't burnt and it smells seasoned. whether it's too seasoned or lacking in taste is discovered by taking a forkful and— no, a bigger forkful and— okay, he's leaning over and shovelling the entire portion into his mouth.

chews for a moment, then nods.)

Good, Noctis. It's alright.

(it's a christmas miracle. a glance to m, before his eyes drop to the extra eel, mouth full.)

Eat the damn eel. He made it for the both of us.

[ Noctis does his absolute best to look nonchalant as he refuses a seat, arms folded in the cramped, too-warm space and backpack awkwardly weighing on him as he leans against the wall and watches. Perhaps too intently. Okay, so even if this was to smooth things over he still wants it to be damn good; is that a crime? This is a real attempt on the part of a sheltered, domestically inept royal. ]

Ah, yeah, they're in a tank but we throw them at each other. For fun. It's a sport from some place and the queen gave them to COST as a gift or something... It doesn't matter. [ Just accept it. ]

Thanks, though. You guys can divide it up however; I know he doesn't eat a ton.

[Midnighter is going to protest with words, until he sees Hei fucking devour his food. So instead he just takes the plate his eel is on in one hand, waving it in front of Hei's face, just under his nose.]

He liked it, he's just a sour bastard. Wouldn't've inhaled it otherwise.

Edited (wORDS :() 2017-12-30 20:58 (UTC)

(was his compliment insufficient? hm.)

Don't speak for me, M. He can always improve. (terse as his hand raises to grab the edge of the plate and yank it away, closing his eyes a moment.) That aside, you're welcome. It was a fine second attempt.

(places the eel down in front of himself.)

...

(finds that he has no idea what to say, lips a firm line as he tries to analyze the situation for what it is. how do people make small talk? can it be about anything? should he address the fact that it's odd they've even invited him here, after the things he's done?

takes another bite of eel, speaking around it.)

This capsule is a disaster. The brig looks cleaner.

[ He snorts faintly at Midnighter's comment, thinking to himself that he agrees; Hei's shown him a kinder side even if it's been shrouded in clipped mannerisms.

But...

Well, as much as he's prepared to guard against it, he is a little disheartened by the unfiltered commentary, not expecting his limited skill in this arena to dazzle a strong critic right away but maybe harboring an idle hope. He tells himself to focus on the compliment over the comment chasing an oppressive silence, which is now one that's extending out a little longer. ] Ah... It's a little cleaner up here than usual. [ Give him a second to recover after that overly honest admission. ]

Guess I was focusing on other stuff. So they fed you down there, right? I didn't really get a great look at the place. [ After tossing you in. ]

[Midnighter gives Noctis a sly look-- told you so-- and leans comfortably back on the little couch around the communal table.]

Yeah, Hei, tell us about prison life. [His voice is... humored, incredulous, maybe making fun of Noctis a little. He isn't the most socially adjusted creature, but he knows this isn't entirely normal table conversation.] Where's your gang tattoo?

It was a standard jail cell. It was hot and dirty. I was the only one down there, I slept on the floor, and I ate a protein block three times a day.

(another bite of eel that cleans his second plate, hugging it close to himself with fingers on the edge, not noticing at all that noctis is struggling with the clashing comments and the fact that he's being made fun of.)

It was nice enough.

(dating site profile: will destroy any mood.)

Oh. Good, sounds like you got plenty. [ Well, the mood's already been set for him. He accepts where he is and who he's with; this train wreck is going to happen with or without his approval. Fuck, this backpack is heavy. ]

Felt kinda' worried that you wouldn't get any sleep. Midnighter was too. [ RATS HIM THE FUCK OUT ]

Yeah, fucking bawling my eyes out, over here. But not denying that he was worried. [He's made that kind of fucking clear, hasn't he? They're allies, comrades, friends, that's what you do.] Seriously- no gang tattoos?

No, I... slept. (another long pause.) As for tattoos, it's as I said. There wasn't anyone...

(discomfort is what he feels. he's hearing what he thinks are some of the nicest comments he ever has, even if there's humour being slapped on, and he's the last person who deserves anything like that. they worried about him? about him?

he's rooted to the spot with a blank stare down at the table.)

I shouldn't be here.

(no one's... stopping him but himself...)

[ Noctis pins Midnighter with a disparaging look at his word choice; if they were alone then he might harass him further or potentially seek out a billiard ball to throw at him. It'd at least liven the mood a little, which... Hei is working very hard to revive just for the sole purpose of murdering it a second time. ]

--hah? I invited you here; don't get weird about it. I think he just likes tattoos or something. [ Right, assuming that M's commentary is the issue. ] I don't know how to give tattoos anyway; I'm not helping with that...

I was kidding, princess. [He kicks Noctis under the table-- lightly.]

[He turns back to Hei. He has more of an idea of what he's implying from his own experiences-- homeless, adrift, generally fucking alone. Didn't they argue about whether or not one or the other was a real person? His memory of that is still hazy.]

[His insight doesn't mean he knows how to fix it, though.] And you can't get rid of our shitty company. We've come to a mutual agreement while you were in the pound; you've been adopted. [He leans in slightly, faking a whisper,] I'm the dad.

Don't get weird about it? How the hell... am I supposed to just sit here and accept this?

(a visible frustration, brow pinching.

god, is this something he's just going to have to accept? it's terrifying. he doesn't want to, he can't make the same mistakes he did in life and fixate on people who could die at any moment, but he doesn't want to be alone — what other options are there? what's he been left with, now that he has nothing?)

I don't want a dad or a tattoo.

...

Why don't you both shut up?

... I'm not shitty company... [ So comes the first mutter of protest, immediately ready with a return kick that honestly feels not unlike driving his foot into a wall. So satisfying and so deeply unsatisfying at the same time. ]

And don't just decide that you're the dad, either. [ His hand raises as if he's about to encase it in flame and make good on his earlier threat of hair destruction for the "princess" comment but it falters in midair once Hei speaks again, effectively stealing his attention. ] ... [ Abruptly Noctis moves, suddenly taking a heavy seat next to the dark-haired man and more or less boxing him into the undersized booth, denying him the ability to go for an easy escape. He nods to Midnighter; this is a success. ]

I owed you food. I'm making good. 'Sides, we both wanted to see how you were doing. This works out for me.

[So they sit there, boxing Hei in with the power of raw stubbornness. Midnighter shoots Noctis a look in return of pure unadulterated approval. Nice move. Now he really is going to have to get the kid a better nickname. And maybe a nice knife?]

[It is his birthday.]

[Midnighter reaches over, still not touching Hei, but putting his arm around the back of the booth, both casual and obvious in implication.] Yeah, you'll accept free food. A fucking burden to bear, I know.

[He looks over Hei's head-- not a difficult feat-- and pretends to whisper to Noctis,] Don't worry, he's just cranky because he hasn't finished his dinner.

(stares as his window of opportunity is blocked by noctis and a giant backpack. then by m and an arm. he's been plotted against and they sit there and nod together like a couple of douche-bags. ... can't say he's entirely displeased, though. at least the conversation is changing up. slowly.

stabs the last corner of eel with a particularly aggressive bite before slouching to chew, letting himself get dragged.)

I'm doing fine. It shouldn't be a concern.

(ah-- he thought of something. that none of them are struggling with.)

How's the training going? It's an alright warm up.

[ At that "I'm doing fine" Noctis just steals a slow, pointed look back over at Midnighter as if to say "can you believe this?". "I'm doing fine" right after a cut-off mini-breakdown about his worthiness to eat a broiled eel. Obviously misdirected and about something deeper, but that doesn't hint at someone who's doing fine either. ]

The training? Ah... I'm tired. [ Predictably. ] Would definitely be a hell of a lot easier if we didn't have such an early wake-up time... The rest is fine, I guess. Learning about all the long-range weaponry's pretty new.

[Midnighter shrugs, not really giving a shit that they're being as subtle as a brick to the back. He was never much for subtlety anyway. Hei's problems are Hei's problems; he'll share then when he's ready.]

[Or the next time they get high off their asses. Whichever's first.]

Yeah, it's not that bad. Lemme know if you need any pointers; this shit's easy for me. It's like Band of Brothers, right?

[He watched one episode of that because he thought it'd be more to his interests from the title, and was sorely disappointed to find out it was a war movie. Who doesn't know the difference between the World Wars? This prick.]

Maybe. You wouldn't be tired. If you didn't sleep so damn often. (said to his plate, because he can't find the strength to even look at him after saying something so obvious.

holds onto his empty plate, though, stifling a knee-jerk reaction that would lead to him cleaning it and likely the whole area if left to his own devices for long enough. too bad they're boxing him in.

looks from m to noctis, puzzled. then back to m.)

What's Band of Brothers? Did you work for them?

I chose to specialize in mortars, so I guess that one... If you've got any tips, I mean.

[ He idly looks over the empty plate, feeling a quiet sense of satisfaction. Hei wouldn't have eaten all of it if he didn't like it a lot, right? Maybe he would... Anything beats singular protein blocks in the brig, probably, or the shitty food they're being served now. He mentally talks himself out of his own self-praise, sighing out quietly. ]

Maybe. I wouldn't sleep so damn often. If I wasn't tired. It's not like I'm slacking off... and Band of Brothers is a video game, not a company. [ There are so many things wrong here. ]

Aim far the fuck away from the front. [Midnighter gives Noctis a thumbs up. Mortars aren't fucking hard, and the kid has good aim. He'll be fine if he watches his ass (and if he doesn't, Midnighter is going to watch it for him regardless).]

And it's a TV show, you're both idiots. It's about the war we're going to. [No it isn't.] One of the worst ones in history of my planet, so be fucking careful, okay? This isn't gonna be like France. [And that wasn't a cakewalk either.]

Why would you guess at something when you don't know a thing about it? You two are clueless.

(skimming over the fact that he just asked if m worked for the fucking band of brothers. dear god in heaven someone eject capsule 14 into dead space.)

I don't watch television, it's a pollutant and I believe in formulating my own opinions of the world. (okay...) Tens of millions of soldiers and civilians died in trenches and out. This kind of warfare will be haunting; it was one of attrition. The more you know the better, I suggest you study up.

I wasn't guessing; how do you know it isn't a video game where I'm from? [ Honestly? He's a little proud of himself for this defense. He thought that up pretty fast. Good job, Noctis.

But... then they both keep speaking. ]

... Yeah, I got it. Much as I can anyway. [ Because he feels like this is directed primarily at him. ] I left a war back home so it's not like I have no experience... The scale's different, though.

[Midnighter rolls his eyes at Hei, but it's not without fondness. How is he totally not surprised by Hei having some kind of grudge againt television?]

I barely sleep; what the fuck else am I supposed to do?

[More importantly-] Your war- what's it like? Trenches? You're obviously not a soldier; have you ever been to the front lines?

[Not that Midnighter's ever soldiered either, but he's not thinking of his own total inexperience when it comes to understanding how waves of armies work or how he's only ever been a singular force fighting a singular force. He just thinks of Noctis getting his brains blown out and feels the anxiety creep up his spine. What does this kid know? What does he need to know? They only have so much time.]

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