[ here they are, in their shared bathroom, 5 feet apart... sylvain takes his time checking out the place (nice, nice), before glancing over at jason with a crooked smile. ]
So. Any house rules I should know about?
[ his closest friends can be Rather Particular, and while this isn't quite the same circumstances as wartime, he's learned the importance of cooperation. (or in this case, cohabitation. take and give, give and take... etc.) ]
—Sylvain, by the way. Though maybe you already know that from our delightful guestbook up front.
[He's shed the suit jacket, vest, and tie because he is not exactly a fancy sort of dude, and he's about fifteen minutes from leaping into more familiar clothes.]
Just to clean up after yourself. [He leans against the doorway with his arms crossed.] If you bring someone over, don't have sex in the bathroom.
[ ...that's so reasonable. he likes this guy already, he thinks they'll get along great. ]
Done, and done. [ sylvain's a neat freak, so cleaning up is no problemo. the only stipulation he can think of: ] I need at least thirty minutes in the morning, so feel free to use the bathroom first, especially if you're in a hurry.
...Wasn't planning on having anyone over anytime soon. [ he grins, expression wolfish ] Were you?
[Them both being neat, but people thinking they look messy… Bless.]
I don’t take long, so you’re good. I usually shower really early anyway.
[But that’s because he, uh, works a very specific job. So his graveyard shift ends at sunrise. It’s fine.]
Nope, but I can’t promise one of these other nosy fuckers won’t try to bust in to look around. Better hide your underwear. Lup seems like she’d be the type to fly it like a flag in the courtyard.
[Well, Sylvain has been given free rein of coming or going with Jason's room. It isn't that Jason wants someone else in his personal space, so much as he's confident in his own abilities to protect himself, or get someone out of it.
So Sylvain can wander over through the bathroom connection if desired. Also, he technically already knows this, but for our benefit oocly:
The adjoining room is, like, the world's most stereotypical bachelor pad. What's probably surprising, first of all, is that... it's neat? It's tidy. Jason Todd is clean and organized, as wild as that seems at first glance. His color palette is Big Red Energy, but he has a lot of black accents, and the industrial feel of a city studio flat.
He's a dorito, so the bed is an iron-framed queen, but the sheets are all matte and red like a nasty bachelor (and also because it's easier to get blood out of that). The closet is sliding mirror doors which reflect the rest of the room rather than something gaudy and suggestive like the bed. There's a desk... It looks like it can be folded up against one of the walls to make more floor room. But right now, it's down, and Jason is seated at it with the things the hotel has given them.
One wall has a gym rat pull-up bar, and nearby is a fake TV which doesn't work on top of a wide bookshelf full of.........books! Wow! Jason Todd READS! They're all fake unfortunately, but the titles are a bunch of Earth classics. Real high-brow stuff sometimes.
Also, there are a lot of glass cases that line one of the other walls. Inside are immovable, sort of paper-like replicas of different weapons: daggers, guns, short swords, you name it. To go with them is a few stylized posters of motorcycles and muscle cars. The only "window" on the back wall shows a fake fire-escape city view which is perpetual stuck on nighttime; light pollution obscures most of the stars, and the moon is peeking from behind a tall building, and there is... a cone of light in the sky with the dark space of a bat in the center. Hm.
Oh. There's also some RGB lighting here and there.
At the desk, Jason seems to be working with various hunks of metal... Ah. It looks like he has taken his gun apart, and he's in the process of putting it back together. But he does glance up at Sylvain.]
[ Jason gets free access to Sylvain's room too, but it's because Sylvain thinks he's a Real Cool Guy, and also because his own sense of self-preservation only works once a fortnight.
...It's a rather jarring difference, visually, each time he steps through. His own room favors the cooler, wintery colors of Faerghus, neutral greys and muted teal/blues. Notably more on the rustic side, if not with a touch of high society opulence, and a fireplace that definitely doesn't work.
But upon closer inspection, there's a vibe that's surprisingly similar between the suites? Sylvain's space is also quite neat, to the point of being lowkey neurotic. He's got all sorts of functional organization to reduce visual clutter.
There's also quite the collection of books, theater scripts, board games, and other ways to intellectually pass the time—though they're all fake as well. Nobody is allowed to be literate in this game. Music/media player, also fake. Large windows displaying an outdoors balcony, double fake! The writing utensils at his large but simple wooden writing desk—faaaaaaaaaaake.
Back to the differences: Sylvain's bed is king-sized, because a ho is gonna ho. And instead of a papery weapons collection he's got a generous walk-in closet with a full-length mirror. He's a man of Fashion. It's So Important to him.
okay now back to lowercase brackets. he peers curiously over Jason's shoulder, (but not so close that it's gay) ]
[Sylvain can teach Jason better fashion, and Jason can be his brother-in-arms about society life.
Sorry to Sylvain for Jason also.
He clicks the last piece of the body in place as Sylvain wanders over, and once he notched the magazine into the bottom, he just
very quickly turns around in place in the chair to press the barrel against Sylvain’s forehead. For, like, a couple of second’s, just long enough for Sylvain to maybe panic a bit.
It isn’t a joke he should play, but it’s fine. He pulls the gun back without any fingers near the trigger, and he puts it on top of the desk facing away.]
A gun. You know what those are?
[Because Royce didn’t despite being a Gunsmith, so. He just has to make sure.]
[ there's definitely recognition, the way sylvain's eyes widen between the barrel of jason's gun. there's anger too, glinting like flint and steel as they narrow.
he'll give jason so many seconds before he retaliates, because he doesn't take kindly to bodily threats. not after miklan, not after the war. ]
Yeah, I do.
[ bro, quit clownin', ur scaring the hoes (sylvains) ]
Haha... I'm guessing you already know the answer to that.
Sorry, I'll try to keep the sniffling to a minimum.
[ not actually crying on his end, but it's been pretty close. he currently feels everything at the negative side of the spectrum—so much sadness and frustration. bitterness and anger. it comes and goes in waves. sometimes you can only compartmentalize so much. ]
[He is having a sit in his desk chair, but he gestures for Sylvain to sit on the bed if he really doesn't want to stand.]
No biting.
[A lot was going on today, but Sylvain would have received very short little sporadic blips during the whole altercation: Jason's feelings weren't much different than a wild animal being feral as its cornered.]
Sorry things got out of hand. I just don't care for people trying to manhandle me.
WILL THEY EVER BE ANYWHERE TALKING BESIDES THEIR ROOMS AND TRIAL? Funny. He leans against the frame of the door that leads into Sylvain's room from the bathroom, arms crossed.]
Clementine's young, but don't take too much credit from her. I think she'd get it better than anyone, even if she didn't like the outcome. Her hostage is safe. That's probably one of the most important things to her.
You're very young, and yet you are old enough to understand that you are the object of your brother's hatred. You were born with a crest, after all, what should have been his birthright and inheritance.
You hope that in time he'll come to forgive you, but that time never comes.
You land in cold water, but you hit stone first, a scraping and jarring tumble down the well. You didn't have to see who was behind you to know who had pushed.
Water floods in as light winks out overhead. Frantic shouts give way to sputtering coughs, and your hands bloody and bruise themselves as they try and fail repeatedly to find purchase on stone. It would be better to stop struggling.
[It's funny if they just share these across the suite to one another, but that'd be forcing us back into the suite for the 294928th time. Maybe they are out and about!
It's a bit of a harder memory to take actually. The others he's receive have not exactly been good, but they weren't necessarily extremely familiar. This one hits slightly too close to home.
He has to stand there for a long moment and figure out where his composure is, what he wants to say. The normal jokester air has sobered into something grim and serious, something a bit irritated.]
[ YEAH! maybe they're somewhere on wiwaldi campus, even though sylvain's had enough of school for a bit.
at any rate, he doesn't look all too happy, for a number of reasons. after a couple of memory slips he's resigned himself to the invasion of privacy, but still. it's deeply personal, and not something he wants to dredge up in the middle of day, or when he sleeps. certainly not something he wants to explain—though really the memory probably says it all. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
W0 / Sunday / Suites
So. Any house rules I should know about?
[ his closest friends can be Rather Particular, and while this isn't quite the same circumstances as wartime, he's learned the importance of cooperation. (or in this case, cohabitation. take and give, give and take... etc.) ]
—Sylvain, by the way. Though maybe you already know that from our delightful guestbook up front.
no subject
Just to clean up after yourself. [He leans against the doorway with his arms crossed.] If you bring someone over, don't have sex in the bathroom.
[He lifts his chin in a nod.]
I do know that already, but it's fine. Jason.
no subject
Done, and done. [ sylvain's a neat freak, so cleaning up is no problemo. the only stipulation he can think of: ] I need at least thirty minutes in the morning, so feel free to use the bathroom first, especially if you're in a hurry.
...Wasn't planning on having anyone over anytime soon. [ he grins, expression wolfish ] Were you?
no subject
I don’t take long, so you’re good. I usually shower really early anyway.
[But that’s because he, uh, works a very specific job. So his graveyard shift ends at sunrise. It’s fine.]
Nope, but I can’t promise one of these other nosy fuckers won’t try to bust in to look around. Better hide your underwear. Lup seems like she’d be the type to fly it like a flag in the courtyard.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
w0, monday
So Sylvain can wander over through the bathroom connection if desired. Also, he technically already knows this, but for our benefit oocly:
The adjoining room is, like, the world's most stereotypical bachelor pad. What's probably surprising, first of all, is that... it's neat? It's tidy. Jason Todd is clean and organized, as wild as that seems at first glance. His color palette is Big Red Energy, but he has a lot of black accents, and the industrial feel of a city studio flat.
He's a dorito, so the bed is an iron-framed queen, but the sheets are all matte and red like a nasty bachelor (and also because it's easier to get blood out of that). The closet is sliding mirror doors which reflect the rest of the room rather than something gaudy and suggestive like the bed. There's a desk... It looks like it can be folded up against one of the walls to make more floor room. But right now, it's down, and Jason is seated at it with the things the hotel has given them.
One wall has a gym rat pull-up bar, and nearby is a fake TV which doesn't work on top of a wide bookshelf full of.........books! Wow! Jason Todd READS! They're all fake unfortunately, but the titles are a bunch of Earth classics. Real high-brow stuff sometimes.
Also, there are a lot of glass cases that line one of the other walls. Inside are immovable, sort of paper-like replicas of different weapons: daggers, guns, short swords, you name it. To go with them is a few stylized posters of motorcycles and muscle cars. The only "window" on the back wall shows a fake fire-escape city view which is perpetual stuck on nighttime; light pollution obscures most of the stars, and the moon is peeking from behind a tall building, and there is... a cone of light in the sky with the dark space of a bat in the center. Hm.
Oh. There's also some RGB lighting here and there.
At the desk, Jason seems to be working with various hunks of metal... Ah. It looks like he has taken his gun apart, and he's in the process of putting it back together. But he does glance up at Sylvain.]
Yo.
no subject
...It's a rather jarring difference, visually, each time he steps through. His own room favors the cooler, wintery colors of Faerghus, neutral greys and muted teal/blues. Notably more on the rustic side, if not with a touch of high society opulence, and a fireplace that definitely doesn't work.
But upon closer inspection, there's a vibe that's surprisingly similar between the suites? Sylvain's space is also quite neat, to the point of being lowkey neurotic. He's got all sorts of functional organization to reduce visual clutter.
There's also quite the collection of books, theater scripts, board games, and other ways to intellectually pass the time—though they're all fake as well. Nobody is allowed to be literate in this game. Music/media player, also fake. Large windows displaying an outdoors balcony, double fake! The writing utensils at his large but simple wooden writing desk—faaaaaaaaaaake.
Back to the differences: Sylvain's bed is king-sized, because a ho is gonna ho. And instead of a papery weapons collection he's got a generous walk-in closet with a full-length mirror. He's a man of Fashion. It's So Important to him.
okay now back to lowercase brackets. he peers curiously over Jason's shoulder, (but not so close that it's gay) ]
Whatcha fiddling with?
no subject
Sorry to Sylvain for Jason also.
He clicks the last piece of the body in place as Sylvain wanders over, and once he notched the magazine into the bottom, he just
very quickly turns around in place in the chair to press the barrel against Sylvain’s forehead. For, like, a couple of second’s, just long enough for Sylvain to maybe panic a bit.
It isn’t a joke he should play, but it’s fine. He pulls the gun back without any fingers near the trigger, and he puts it on top of the desk facing away.]
A gun. You know what those are?
[Because Royce didn’t despite being a Gunsmith, so. He just has to make sure.]
no subject
he'll give jason so many seconds before he retaliates, because he doesn't take kindly to bodily threats. not after miklan, not after the war. ]
Yeah, I do.
[ bro, quit clownin', ur scaring the hoes (sylvains) ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
w0, friday...2!
Seeing how you're holding up.
[Clearly it came from Jason.]
no subject
Haha... I'm guessing you already know the answer to that.
Sorry, I'll try to keep the sniffling to a minimum.
[ not actually crying on his end, but it's been pretty close. he currently feels everything at the negative side of the spectrum—so much sadness and frustration. bitterness and anger. it comes and goes in waves. sometimes you can only compartmentalize so much. ]
no subject
Don't worry about it. Apparently, tomorrow is the big day. So we'll figure things out. Lup would probably fix you something if you're hungry.
no subject
She was my classmate and friend back at the Officers Academy. Fought together in the same war, too.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
W0 / Saturday / Post-Trial
[ the strip check Drama... ]
no subject
no subject
[ a moment later, there'll be a brief courtesy knock on the bathroom door connecting to jason's room, before sylvain invites himself in ]
No biting.
no subject
No biting.
[A lot was going on today, but Sylvain would have received very short little sporadic blips during the whole altercation: Jason's feelings weren't much different than a wild animal being feral as its cornered.]
Sorry things got out of hand. I just don't care for people trying to manhandle me.
(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)
w1, sat
WILL THEY EVER BE ANYWHERE TALKING BESIDES THEIR ROOMS AND TRIAL? Funny. He leans against the frame of the door that leads into Sylvain's room from the bathroom, arms crossed.]
How're you holding up?
no subject
I just condemned a child, so things could be better. ...You?
[ he's so proud of jason for not pulling out a gun at trial btw ]
no subject
Clementine's young, but don't take too much credit from her. I think she'd get it better than anyone, even if she didn't like the outcome. Her hostage is safe. That's probably one of the most important things to her.
(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)
w2, thurs
he is looking for him for a check in, shhh]
no subject
—Oh, hey. What's up?
no subject
'Ey. What the hell are you doing wandering around? Go lie down somewhere. What're you doing?
(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)
W3 / Monday
... ]
no subject
It's a bit of a harder memory to take actually. The others he's receive have not exactly been good, but they weren't necessarily extremely familiar. This one hits slightly too close to home.
He has to stand there for a long moment and figure out where his composure is, what he wants to say. The normal jokester air has sobered into something grim and serious, something a bit irritated.]
...You okay?
no subject
at any rate, he doesn't look all too happy, for a number of reasons. after a couple of memory slips he's resigned himself to the invasion of privacy, but still. it's deeply personal, and not something he wants to dredge up in the middle of day, or when he sleeps. certainly not something he wants to explain—though really the memory probably says it all. ]
...For the most part. It was a long time ago.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)