driftfleet | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: Robin
Broadcast: Audio, accidentally open to the whole fleet.
Action: If applicable!
When: Middle of the day this week.

---

[it kind of seems like Robin didn't mean for this message to be public, what with the way his voice suddenly cuts in mid-word and keeps going as if he was already talking to someone. quietly.]

--utes late, since I'm staying with this family... They're nice, but the old lady always accosts me when I try to leave. She's convinced I've never eaten in my life. She's, I don't know, four feet tall? Talks with this weird accent? Her daughter says it's because she's from a northern island, but I think she's just fucking with me--

[and here he is cut off by the sudden cackling of a much older woman. her voice gets louder and she presumably invades his personal space. she does have a weird accident. she might be making it up.]

Bird boy! Are you talking to your friend? Tell them they do not feed you enough! [another hearty cackle.] You're so tall and thin that the wind will pick you right up, whip you around like a kite!

I'm-- [awkward.] I'm probably going to be fine, ma'am...

No, no. You are too skinny! And too pale.

[there's a sudden "ggkk--" from Robin, but nothing else.]

You look like fish belly. Sick child. Go sit in the sun instead of staying inside another day, like real bird!

[Robin may or may not quietly mumble something about that just being "what he looks like" before the message (thankfully) ends. how awkward. still, nothing says you can't leave a message in response...]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[forcibly pleasant:]

And ruin our lovely afternoon? I would never dream of it. Find us a good spot, okay?

But you two seemed to be getting along so well.

[cooperating? what's that?]

She's right, though. You really should get a tan while you're here.

Hmph. She does keep asking when I'll invite you over for dinner...

[a punishment, clearly. one more way for her to spread her reign of terror.]

Wake me when you get here.

[already so bored. this is why he never shows up to things on time.]

[something about Tek suddenly dropping the subject makes him chuckle.]

Sweet dreams, Magpie.

[he only makes him wait about five minutes longer. he cheats a little to get there.

he shows up dressed in his usual nonsense. dark pants, nice shoes, a jacket that cinches in the back with a drawstring. his sleeves are rolled up to the elbow, despite gloves. it is not beach attire in the slightest.

he helps himself to the booth seat across from Tek. he's glancing around with live curiosity. a good mood, maybe!]

How's the fish?

[at least they match in the clothing department. he has replaced his lost outfit with sleeker, darker, more modern things, with tall boots to keep out the sand. he looks good. he also might look a little closer to how things will progress. maybe he'll want to dye his hair next.]

Small. [sushi is weird, okay.]

[and he catches the server's eye immediately, motioning them over. he assumes Robin will want a drink right away.]

It's cheap, though. And it goes on forever...

[he notices the outfit. it does give Tek an unsettling resemblance to his darker memories. however, he focuses on the server first--ordering a drink immediately, as predicted. the server goes through the shpeal (waters for both of them, let them know if you want anything special, and so on) before they're left to their own devices.]

Lovely boots, by the way.

Thank you. They fit beautifully.

[he leans and settles to where he can easily keep an eye on the conveyor even while they talk.]

...I'm pretty sure that's just a trick to make you feel like you're ultimately paying less.

[the sushi, not the boots.]

Entirely possible. If nothing else, now you'll have proper grounds to complain about it.

[also talking about the food, of course. he leans back in his seat, but he spends his time looking at Tek. when's the last time he saw him really put together like this, nice and polished?]

...I've wanted to ask you something for a while, but have never quite found a way to weave it into casual conversation.

[hmm. he somehow hadn't guessed that Robin would want to bring up something specific and potentially of consequence during this little outing. so, of course he's jumping to quietly assume something terrible.

the way he does not glance over or show a reaction to the introduction of a new topic would be telling to Robin only. he pointedly keeps his eyes on the food rolling by, perfectly casual.]

So, you're going to bring it up while we're settling down to a nice evening.

Of course. It's been killing me. I can't take the slowly-twisting knife of not knowing any longer.

[he says this with a very casual sarcasm, leaning his elbows onto the table. as he talks, he rubs at both eyes like he's tired and stressed, like it really is true despite the small laugh and the smile the accompanies it. the important thing is that he is, politely, not able to see Tek as he says it.]

So, be honest with me... How bad was my accent?

[he... oh.

even when he's specifically prepared and waiting for Robin to say something surprising, he still manages to be caught off guard. Robin can't see the blink, or whatever progression of startlement and confusion might hint across Tek's face, but he can hear the pause.

until finally Tek gives a little laugh.]

Are you sure you really want to know?

[he somehow manages to hide for as long as it takes him to pause. when the silence ends with a laugh and not bitter dismissal, he peeks up over his fingers--a little surprised that Tek is even humoring him.

the smile that quirks up is a little too genuine. travels right to his eyes, curious, as he lowers his hands against the table.]

Of course... The guys I learned it from would say all kinds of shit, so I've really got no idea.

[and when Robin's eyes are up again, Tek is still engaged in the conversation, but he's really as far away from it as he can actually be. leaned back in the booth, lounging over in the corner of his seat, fingers thoughtfully over his mouth--just one more little wall between himself and whatever he might be at risk of expressing, and Robin.

he's trying to continue the talk as normal, because he is at least curious, even if it is hesitantly so.]

Did they?

Yeah...

[ah, perhaps he was too enthusiastic. he reigns himself in a little, holding his elbows (squaring his shoulders) and watching the little plates slowly pass by their table.]

Though, actually, I learned most of it from absorbing and listening... No one was exactly going to sit down and teach me. Pretty sure those punks who'd say I sound halfway decent were just looking for a laugh...

[he looks halfway apologetic, then, even if it's towards the sushi and not Tek.]

So... I couldn't exactly be offended if you told me to quit while I'm ahead.

[normally, at least one of them needs to be looking at the other, because both of them seeking conversational distance by looking away is just too much of a surrender to social discomfort.

but this is one of those cases where he just can't seem to settle his eyes on anything but the plates rolling by.]

...Well, I don't speak any of the other languages that you know. It would be nice to have some way to communicate that not everyone around is privy to.

[and no, forehead-speak doesn't count.]

You do sound like garbage, though.

[out of all the things that run through his head, all of the feelings, the shades of relief, the joy at being let in on this private thing he should not know, only one reaction makes it out to the table.]

Garbage?

[that's the worst comparison he could have made!]

I was setting you up to compliment me! A gentle letdown, at the very least!

[he's laughing now. it's the best release of awkward, horrible tension, after all. he can't even really answer as the server shows up with Robin's drink. he just waves a helpless hand and giggles.

if Robin wants to order anything, he'll have to do it himself.

eventually--]

Goodness, it's nothing personal. I meant it literally! ...You know those machines that chew up garbage? In the sink. That's what you sound like...

Ah-- [the server's arrival gets him to quiet down, at least.] Thank you.

[the server laughs it off too (oh, working in food service...) and since Robin wants nothing else, leaves them in peace. he is now keenly aware of how other people can hear him.

won't stop him from being grumpy, though.]

Garbage disposal? Tek, that's even worse.

You wanted to know.

[he shrugs one shoulder. he can look at him a little bit now.]

The sounds are all in your mouth. It's like you're chewing on them.

[he finally picks something up off the conveyor. rice with slabs of fish on them, really simple. the funny thing is that he expected to be bad, but not this bad. he was passable in the tunnels, and hasn't quite realized the "real thing" is much more elegant...]

So I don't articulate well. How is it supposed to sound?

Ameer yeh, lekhai. Ha yuruah.

[he breathes the words easily instead of speaks them, tilting the R's just so, purring the other sounds so they're not so harsh. it suits the lowest, even tone of his voice very well.

and he plucks a set of rolls off the conveyor... but turns his nose up at them once he sees them up close. too much... mayonnaise, or whatever that is. this plate gets set in front of Robin.]

[the dance begins. with a somewhat defeated frown, Robin dexterously accepts the new plate while sliding his own in Tek's direction. he pretends the chopsticks don't exist, popping a roll into his mouth to cover his lack of an immediate comeback.

nothing comes to mind, though.] ...Fine.

[oh, much better. Tek will use his chopsticks for now, but it's only to delicately separate the fish from the rice, and eat the meaty bits first.]

I suppose you'll just have to practice, if you want to get better.

[oh and he'll just conveniently glance over at the conveyor as he says it, fishing off a plate of something deep-fried.]

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