Day 62: Sun Room (Second Shift)

[complicatedliar]

The line of questioning that Rita had begun at breakfast still plagued Loki, as did his own uncomfortable feelings about the entire concept of people being transformed into monsters. It wasn't a useful line of thought, and he needed a better direction to consider.

Hopefully, conversation with Soma would provide that. While she seemed quite stern at times, Loki found her presence oddly relaxing.

Though he had to wonder if perhaps he wouldn't end up seeing her this shift after all, since she might be included in the group that was being herded to the showers. (As much as the statement also was one he greeted with relief, since he was wondering when he'd get an opportunity to bathe. The thought of being trapped in a building with a great many mortals and no bathing facilities had been too horrifying to contemplate.) He'd always been a bit bad at guessing the ages of mortals, mostly because they were so ridiculously short-lived.

Having already established a neurotic fear of the cold with his nurse, there was no difficulty convincing her that he'd be much better off in the Sun Room. Loki settled into his habitual seat, taking a moment to coax one of the cats into his lap. All settled in, he propped his notebook on the arm of the chair and went back to writing.

[Soma?]

Comments

[toxicspiderman]

"Shit." This time he said it out loud. "Sorry."

Were you actually a giant robot last night? And where did they fit you and leave the building standing? S.T. didn't say either of those out loud. Nor did the half-formed thought that it was too bad he'd sacked out last night and missed it. Because exactly what D.C. needed was to be beating himself up about trying to eviscerate one more person.

If it was S.T., he'd have sulked. Taken the boat out in foul weather with a hangover just to look pathetic. And then felt better, despite his best efforts, because it was hard to be angry at anyone out on the water. Except the assholes that were turning it into a toxic graveyard, but that was different. One of these days he'd be able to go fishing out there without being haunted by spectrographs and statistics.

"He'll forgive you. Probably already has."

[cpt_minnow]

"The Scarecrow would forgive Landel himself if he apologised nicely enough," Depth Charge shot back, staring steadily down at the cat- and then relented, chest dropping into a sigh. "No. That's not fair."

Past the initial naivety his roommate wasn't stupid, and he knew that. But equally that meant that the Scarecrow should have known the risks when he charged out onto that recreational field- he should have known that there was nothing he could do, that he'd just end up hurt.

It was also exactly what Depth Charge would have done in that situation, and he knew it. 'cause that had been half of their problem, hadn't it? Him treating the Scarecrow like he couldn't do anything when, truthfully, he was barely any better himself.

He looked up tiredly, raking his fingers through his hair. "Maybe I don't deserve it. Could be healthier to hold a grudge."

[toxicspiderman]

"That's crap and you know it." He picked up the cat, dropped onto the cushion himself, and set it back down. It hissed at him, and looked mournfully at Depth Charge. Good judge of character. "Optimist isn't the same as idiot. Guy does have a brain in there. Moral of the whole film and all." Except D.C. hadn't seen it. "It wasn't your fault, man. Get over it. We can all have a good cry when we've razed this place to the ground and salted the ashes."

Maybe they needed a night off. Tough shit. They couldn't afford one, aside from brainwashing or narcolepsy. He had about fifty things to do and only one of him, and D.C. was the same.

"I'd offer you both some beer." It was probably ready. Past ready, maybe, but he'd been too busy pissing off his newest roommate to check. "Have a few, talk it out over dinner. Before you go try to pet Tabby here when she's gone all were-kitty or whatever he does at night." He shrugged. "But he doesn't like beer."