2020.07.02 - Time With the Kids
You would think it would take more than one visit to someone's apartment to feel welcome to come over whenever, but Emery doesn't seem to have any such idea. Another day, another t-shirt (but the same jacket) and he finds himself knocking on Daken's door again. He's not sure if the man's home or not, but Emery just shows up, nonetheless. Worst case scenario, no one is home and he leaves. '”Showing up unannounced isn't really polite, though,” he murmurs softly to himself. “Maybe I should have texted or something.” But he didn't really think about that kind of thing all that much. Rocking back on the heels of his feet, he stares down at his shoes. They're the same roughened up pair he was trekking through the water in that day. “I need to buy a new pair,” he adds to himself.
Fortunately, Daken is home, and he's wearing more clothes than he was last time, for some reason. This time, he's actually wearing a shirt, and it's an expensive-looking, slinky one made out of some unknown and possibly unknowable material, deep red with darker red stripes, very subtly running up and down it. He's rolled up the sleeves, and naturally it hangs unbuttoned on him. It looks good. Other than that, just the usual clingy pants.
He opens the door and smiles even before he gets it fully open. He recognizes the scent, without checking the peephole. "Welcome back! What brings you to my place today?"
Emery looks over Daken and smiles faintly. “You always look so...” He seems to falter at finding a good word. “Nice.” Yep, that's what he's going with. Shrugging his shoulders, he explains “I was around and bored. So... yeah. Figured I would drop by and see if you were home.” Glancing past Daken into the apartment, the expression on his face indicates he's almost expecting to find Lester inside doing something... intimidating. He isn't sure what yet, because its unlikely the man needs to clean his guns /that/ often. But who knows with guns.
“So, um, am I interrupting anything or... anything?” There's a faint blush in his cheeks as he asks. It's clear he's trying to be nonchalant and not pulling it off very well. Bringing his hand up to his face, he gives a very faint cough into it. “Cause I can come back if you're busy with... things. I don't mean, like, sex things. Uh, not that – I mean I – never mind.” He frowns. Smooth, Emery. Real smooth.
"Thank you!" Daken is visibly cheered by the compliment. Because he's smiling, and not any other reasons that someone might imagine, though that's obviously not out of the realm of possibility for anyone who knows him. "I'm not currently having sex with Lester, no. You can tell by the fact that I'm wearing clothes and my mouth isn't full or anything." Stepping back, he sweeps his arm beside him, for Emery to know he's welcome to come in.
"Just remember to take off your shoes. Would you like something to drink? I don't have a lot of soft drinks right now, but I have iced tea."
Emery turns a bright shade of red at Daken' words. “Hey, no need to make fun of me,” he says with a pout. “It was a legitimate question. I think? I mean. I don't know!” As he steps inside, he slips his shoes off at the door, revealing a pair of white socks with blue and green polka dots on them.
As Emery closes the door behind him, he shoves his hands into his pockets and wanders in after Daken. “So... yeah, I guess I just wanted to drop by and say hello. I would say I was in the neighborhood, but I wasn't really. I just didn't have anywhere else to be.”
"You can almost always be here," Daken leads the way to the kitchen. "Even if you aren't going to be wandering around indiscriminately, you can certainly come here in a time of need. It'll be fine." Then he looks back, turning and showing off all that definition. That's why he goes shirtless so often, or like today, just wears something slinky and open in front. "Tea, then? It's not sweetened."
There's the sound of the door opening, then, and it swings wide to reveal Lester in all his glory. Only, he's looking a little less glorious with the bruising around his eyes and the tape over the bridge of his nose. He's got a brown paper bag in one arm as he enters, and a skinny kid in tow. "I'm here," he announces as he enters, and turns to Maka. "Shoes."
In demonstration, he kicks off his own shoes and neatly places them by the door before he continues inward. He wrinkles nose when he spots Emery, and there's a bit of a gleam in his eye as he pushes past the geek. "What're you doin' here, Egg?" he asks. "Peddlin' pie?" He snorts a laugh, and puts the bag on the counter. "The Kid's with me," he informs Daken. "We brought snacks an' stuff. Some of those seaweed things."
"Yeah, cause ya don't get your fuckin' floors dirty," Maka huffs under his breath, though he leans down and plucks the lacings free of his boots, slipping them off and setting them aside.
They reveal clean but heavily callused feet. Nudging the door closed with his elbow, he slips out of his trench coat, and it reveals the boys slender arms and lissome form, covered in bruises from waist to neck, interrupted only by the cropped t-shirt plastered to his form. He thumbs at the piercing dangling from his navel, then he rolls his shoulders, pausing to eye Emery, sweeping a brief gaze up and over the other before he strides languidly by looking like he has all the hauteur of a cat, with the grunginess of a feral feline of the streets, upnodding Daken and asking, "Who's that one," turning and winking along a shoulder at the unknown individual. He adds, "Broke the old man's nose today by th'way so he's gonna be bitchy."
“Yeah, iced tea works just fine,” Emery says with a smile. Suddenly, the door is opening. Lester's arrival doesn't really surprise Emery, but the brusque manner he behaves does seem to catch the boy off guard.”Why do you keep calling me that?” he asks in confusion. The 'pie' comment causes his blush, which never really went away, to deepen.
The person following Lester gets a curious look. As Emery takes in Maka's appearance once the trench coat is removed, his mouth opens and his jaw drops into a tiny O of shock. “Oh my God, what happened to you?” Normally Emery wouldn't be so forward, but it just kind of slips out. Maka's question causes him to frown. The blush is gone, replaced with what looks like annoyance. “Y'know, 'that one' has a name.” He doesn't offer it, though.
"Beautiful." Daken doesn't specify if he's commenting on Lester, or letting it be known how he feels about the seaweed snacks. Probably both. His smile is so relaxed and easy, as he moves to pour up three glasses of the tea, one for himself, one for Emery, and one for Lester. Nice and cold, refreshing for this weather, even if it's become a little cooler out today. That won't last, surely, with the rainy season coming on, and the city on the water.
"Ah, yes." His gaze falls on Maka now. "Would you like a glass of iced tea, too? If you break anything on Lester again, I'll garnish it with some less-used extremity next time." It's the tone in which he says it that is just so unsettling. His manner is so approachable, his smile doesn't even falter for a second, and the pheromones constantly around him make him so agreeable. But then there's the words. "You look like you got a good workout!" And he's moved on entirely from that.
"I call you Egg on account you're an egghead science whiz," Lester explains uncharacteristically, although there's no humor in his voice. He's dead serious. He turns to Maka, and points in the geek's direction. "That's Egg," he explains succinctly. "Don't be fuckin' rude."
The reaction to Maka's bruises and the following question gets a hard pull of the assassin's mouth to one side. "He learned a couple of valuable fuckin' lessons, that's what," he says, glaring at Maka. "Mostly about respect an' what happens to those that forget it." He reaches out to pat Maka brightly on his very bruised cheek. "Didn't ya, Kid?"
He nods at Daken's assessment, and moves to start unpacking snacks onto the counter. It looks like he bought out the Japanese place, or at least the rice crackers and seaweed snacks. "It was pretty good. The Kid's learnin'."
Daken is only afforded a sniff, that is until his cheek is touched and the bruise there causes Maka to suck in a breath, looking at Emery as he says flatly, "Apparently I run my mouth too much but yunno, it was worth it a li'l bit." He shrugs,
He sighs a touch before he has to give himself a little shake, stepping a couple feet to the side to get out of the immediate radius of those pheromones Daken's letting off. "As for the work out, I guess it's fine if ya like gettin' beat up on the daily, but whatever."
He brightens at snacks and then starts to peck through the different things unless halted, quipping to Emery then. "Name's Maka, and I guess yur Egg until ya think ya wanna give an actual name." He smirks. "I'll call ya by it," he continues giving Lester a look as he adds, "So I'm not fuckin' rude."
Emery blinks at Daken's words, completely uncertain how to take that. Lester's response is something he can at least process. “Okay.” He doesn't argue with the nickname. It's sound reasoning and, considering how Lester seems to like to assign nicknames, it's probably a good sign that he has one. Right? He looks uncertainly between the trio. “My name is Emery,” he says softly.”He,” Emery indicates with a point to Lester “Can call me Egg if he wants.” Line in the sand right there.
The Japanese food seems to be a safe subject, so Emery asks conversationally “What's your favorite?” He walks up to take a peek over Lester's shoulder, standing on his tiptoes. He tries to avoid the subject of anything violent. He doesn't understand exactly what happened, sounds like a sparring match that got a little too intense. And he'd prefer to keep it that way in his head.
"Oh, very nice. Those are the best!" And now Daken's just decided to concentrate on the various snacks that Lester brought. The best spicy seaweed, and the tempura seaweed! That is a special kind of amazing, and it's good with virtually everything. Satisfied! At first, it seems like he's having difficulty getting the bag open, but then...
SNIKT!
Daken's black claws come out, two on the back of his hand, one coming up from the wrist. He makes quick work of it and then the claws are back inside his hands again. With a smile, he holds out the bag to Emery. "I like these. They're tempura seaweed, try one."
Lester watches the interchange between Maka and Emery from the corner of his eye, his mouth twisting just a little bit. "You kids play nice," he says without irony, shifting his weight when Emery comes up behind him so that the Egg can see. "The Mutt likes these seaweed ones," he says, nodding as Daken slices open a bag. "They're pretty good, but I go for these rice crackers with the pepper oil on 'em." He grabs a bag of rice crackers wrapped in seaweed and pitches them at Maka. "These ain't bad, neither."
Snagging the bag out of the air with a quick swipe Maka opens it and takes a few of the crackers and munches. He nods to Emery when the name is given, looking for a place to settle in, deciding to pad off for the living room, pausing at the door to ask curiously of Emery, "Ya a genius or somethin?" He continues to eat though he seems to pace about, as if uncomfortable, or unsure where to sit, or what to do. He finally just ends up leaning against the sofa, looking over at the group near the snacks.
Emery's jaw drops (again) and his mouth open and closes somewhat as Daken slices open the bag with his claws. As he takes the bag to peek inside, he asks “So... you have claws. That's pretty cool. Surprising, but cool. I mean. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but I still am.” After he takes one of the snacks, he hands the bag back to Daken. He can't help eyeing the man's hands carefully as he does so.
Glancing over to where Maka has settled against the sofa, Emery answers “Technically, yes. Literally, yes. I try not to rub it in people's faces because they don't seem to respond well to it. Also, it's not the know-lt-all kind of genius, it's the figure-stuff-out kind.” He's very matter-of-fact about it.
"I do have claws, and I'm not going to kill you with them." Daken lets Emery keep the bag after taking a handful for himself, then goes one-handed to fix another glass of the tea for Maka. In a very short time, it's available on the counter. "Maka, a drink. You'll need it with the snacks." They're salty, some are spicy, and in general it's good to have something complementary to the taste, which of course this is: it's iced hojicha, roasted green tea.
Then Daken looks right to Emery, grinning like he knows a terrible secret that he hasn't told yet. "I hope you're glad you decided to stop by. It's not every day that Lester hits up the market to get these nice snacks."
Lester moves to a cabinet as Daken gets the tea, and takes out a bottle of ibuprofen. Shaking out five, he sets them next to Maka's tea without comment and moves to grab a bag of those chili-flavored rice crackers. "He's wicked smart," he says of Emery, though he has no real reason to assert that. "He's like Stark or Luthor or some shit. Only broke." He offers a wide, flat smile to Emery as he moves into the living room himself, motioning for the others to follow.
"It's lucky I was feelin' generous," he says to Daken, leaning in as he passes to bump foreheads with the mutant before moving along. "I didn't realize we was havin' a party. Cal comin', too?"
Nodding, after a moment's thought, Maka starts for the tea, and takes it up, popping the pills into his mouth and drinking from the cup a little bit, then he munches on the crackers again, nodding a little to Emery, shrugging his shoulders and replies, "That's neat, bet it comes in handy a lot." He shifts then on his feet and makes his way over to a couch, settling down.
As Emery continues eating the snacks, he says “I think if you wanted to kill me, you could probably come up with more interesting methods than your claws. So I'm not really worried about them. Doesn't it hurt when they come out?” He's curious about it, naturally. As he nibbles, he reaches over and picks up his iced tea to take a sip. Humming In approval, he says “This doesn't taste like typical iced tea. It's good!â” He takes another sip, has another munch, and alternates for a bit.
As Lester chimes in on his smarts, his cheeks redden just slightly. “Yeah, well... I'm sure they have experience, too. That helps. All I've done is... well... mostly computer system related. Not much on the hardcore tech side. Yet.” Gotta add a 'yet' in there. Turning to Maka, he shrugs. “Sometimes. You'd be surprised how often it would come in handier to know more about life and less about computers. Researching online can only enlighten you so much.”
As Lester touches forehead to forehead, Daken closes his eyes and breathes in, looking like he's entered in the world of paradise and bliss, just from that touch, the contact and everything surrounding it. His smile is so peaceful, more than usual, after that, and his gaze nothing short of adoration as Lester makes his way over to the the living room.
Gathering up his own drink, Daken moves along with Emery. "It hurts, but only a little. Not like getting your arm ripped off or anything." The smile widens just slightly during that. He does not qualify this statement, but it may be correct to assume that he knows exactly how painful that is. "I like you, Emery." He takes a sip of his cold drink. "I like the way you think." This about the interesting methods of killing. "I'm glad you like that, it's hojicha. Roasted, uncommonly. Most of the tea is usually cured by boiling, I seem to remember. Not hojicha."
"If he couldn't, I sure as fuck could," Lester says of creative methods of killing people. "It's really an art." He flops on the couch next to Maka, and reaches out to slap the kid on the knee. "Cheer up, kid. Smart guys like Egg need palooks like us for muscle an' cunning." He waggles his eyebrows, and shoves a handful of crackers in his mouth, crunching loudly. "Hey, computer shit's important, too," he says in what might be encouraging tones. Angry, encouraging tones. "The guy in the chair usually is the one keepin' everyone sharp. An' I can barely fuckin' log into Faceplace." He shoves another bunch of crackers in his mouth. "So don't knock knowing about computers an' not life. Life fuckin' sucks, mostly."
There's a bit of a snort from the kid but Maka nods in agreement, drinking from his tea and swapping between that and a series of quick bites, the evidence of a street rat still distinct; not leaving much food behind, keeping it close to him, keeping some left over which he does just now rolling up the bag and carefully pushing it into a hip pocket carefully for later munching. "Life's a bitch, but eh, you get one of them cosy jobs at a firm, or I dunno bein' mission control and you're pretty set."
He considers Daken's words about the tea, and then leans in and gives it a sniff before saying, "Tastes just like tea to me..." He shrugs, then stretches, pulling his leg up on the sofa, asking Daken, "So if you got like claws on your hands you got them like on your feet too? for like climbin' and shit I mean? seems like that'd be useful...."
Emery wisely lets the topic of getting one's arm ripped off slide. Because he isn't sure if Daken is talking about having his own arm ripped off or ripping someone else's off. Either way, best not to ask. Daken's second comment earns a smile from Emery. “Thanks. Always nice to hear my thinking is spot on, given it's my best talent.” He listens to Lester's words of encouragement and offers that same smile to him.
“Thank you, too. It's good to hear that. Sometimes it's hard to remember that other people don't necessarily find things as easy as I do, in my fields. I'm just... used to that stuff being easy. So I forget how hard it actually is.” Maka's question causes Emery to turn a gaze onto Daken, an eyebrow going up as if to say 'well?'
"I can use the ones on my hands for climbing." That's the first thing Daken chooses to address, as he finds a seat and curls into it. There, he starts nibbling, with no urgency whatsoever, on the seaweed snacks he claimed for himself. "Fortunately, I don't find myself needing to scale any surfaces lately, but they're good for most."
He washes his nibbles down with some of the tea, a very small amount. It's clearly a special thing he's gone to trouble to make, so he wants to savor it. "Mmm. It's nice to have a kind of full house. I never thought I'd think that."
"That's fair," Lester says to Emery. "There's no one can hit a target like I can," he says, then mutters, "No matter what that fuckin' Arrow kid says." Then he raises his voice again. "So just enjoy what comes easy, kid. There ain't much." He kicks his own socked feet out and lands them on the coffee table in near-boorish redolence. He snorts softly at Daken's observation, and nods, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ain't that the fuckin' truth?" he says, an -actual- laugh breaking its way free. "Last time I sat around chillin' with a bunch of guys, it involved a judge an' a cheap fuckin' lawyer." He offers a thumbs up. "Cheap, but good. Time served."
It's the small things, really.
"An' how many lawyers have ya actually had that ya can give the same title to," Maka quips, nodding at Daken's answer as he directs his question to Lester.
He pauses to drink from the tea again, as if trying to puzzle out its mystery before he asks Emery, "can ya build a grapplin' hook? I got one, but I need somethin' a little more compact and faster to use. I don't like bein' slowed down when I'm roof runnin'." He gives Lester a look, then rubs his ankle reflexively.
Emery tilts his head at Daken. “Are you not usually the type that entertains? No, I can't believe that.” There's a mischievous smirk on his face. Turning to Lester, he gives a faint nod. “Well, I know who to ask if I ever need a hit on someone.” He's clearly joking from his tone.
Maka's question causes Emery to think it over. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he ponders. “Build it? Not personally. Design one, probably. It wouldn't take very long to come up with a mechanism. As for compact and light, that'll come down to the material.” He taps his finger against his chin thoughtfully.”Give me a few days to puzzle it out. I need to research the subject.”
"When I entertain, it is a performance." The words are carefully chosen, and Daken's gaze is slightly more of a brooding one as he considers his answer. "I enjoy it," he quickly qualifies, crunching on another piece of the rich, savory tempura seaweed. "But it still is a performance, and things must be right for a performance. This..." he waves around the room very slowly, careful not to spill the tea he's holding with that hand, "is more comfortable."
Daken licks his lips and takes a sip from his tea, another small, ginger one. "Lester can do the job. But he doesn't do that so much anymore." A dangerous smile ghosts onto, and off of, his mouth in an instant.
"The Mutt's got it to an art," Lester says of Daken's entertaining. "When he puts on the dog, you know it." Having been on the receiving end, the man knows whereof he speaks. "But yeah. This is much better."
He smirks at Maka, and makes a show of counting on his fingers, eventually giving up. "Public defenders come an' go so quick," he says with a shrug. "But Mutt's right. I don't do that shit no more." He sounds a bit regretful about that, staring at the wall for a long moment. "Not that I couldn't still do it," he says suddenly, hotly. "I could ice any mother fucker right now, if I wanted." But he looks really comfortable, so that may not be so strong a desire. That doesn't make his expression any less mule-like.
"We, know, we know. ya not gettin' to old to shank a bitch," Maka says with just enough flatness to his tone to intentionally try and needle Lester though he sighs. Stretching then, he finally levers himself from the sofa, saying with a bit of a grunt. "Guess, I should turn in, I'm feelin' stiff and tomorrow's gonna be worse. We're not sparrin' tomorrow yeah?" He doesn't even wait for an answer, starting to move off. His footsteps don't make a sound as he starts to pad away.
Emery seems to get thoughtful a moment as Daken and Lester talk about the ambiance in the room. “I guess I can see the difference,” he says with a faint smirk. “I mean, I'm guessing when you entertain its with a different level of... hospitality.” His eyes dart over to the restroom and back, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.
As Lester gets hot and bothered about killing, or not killing as the case may be, Emery just watches him quietly. As Maka announces his departure, Emery gives the other boy a nod. “It was, uh, nice meeting you?” It comes out as a question.
Glancing up when Maka moves, Daken raises an eyebrow and looks silently to Lester, as if he's expecting some sort of reaction to this. It's not Daken's place to interject here, so he doesn't. He remains in his seat, and a few more seconds pass before he clears his throat and speaks. "I do have an amazing shower that's very good for muscle aches...if that might be agreeable to your student, Lester." But he still leaves it up to Lester, ultimately. He'll have to say yea or nay.
Lester seems unbothered by Maka's attempt to leave, and he lifts his chin after Daken speaks. "What do you say, kid? Wanna take advantage of the awesome shower an' the Mutt's fancy lotions, or you set on fuckin' off back to super school?" His tone makes it clear that these are the only two options as he moves to stand up in one fluid motion. "No trainin' tomorrow," he confirms as he trails the kid. "But you still gotta run your five miles before school."
"It was nice to meet ya, Emery," Maka says and he seems genuine, but there is definitely a bit of fatigue on his face complimented by a groan as Lester reminds him about his morning routine. It doesn't prevent him from nodding his head a bit and saying, "Sure I can do the shower thing, sounds nice to me... Thanks," he extends to Daken, then he's combing his hands through his messy hair, clearing his throat. "Thanks for the snacks n'stuff." He grins then waiting for Lester.
Emery turns to Maka and offers him a warm smile. “The shower is awesome, actually. You should try it out. It's ridiculously relaxing and looks just plain cool.” Standing up, he takes a seat on the couch and tucks one leg under himself as he leans back. “Sorry you're worn out. Hope you feel better soon.” With that, he tugs his phone out of his pocket and checks something on it.
Lester nods when Maka agrees to the shower, and he claps a hand on one of those skinny shoulders, steering the kid towards the bathroom. "He's even got one of them bamboo stools, if your legs ain't holdin' ya," he says almost comfortingly as they go. "An' stuff that feels like witch hazel but smells like ginger..." he continues to list all the benefits of a Daken's shower, closing the door behind them. A moment later, he pokes his head back out. "No visitors," he decrees, and disappears back behind the door again, to tend to whatever needs tending behind it.