PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Mo
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Post by Damien Lang on Nov 29, 2017 15:04:58 GMT
The building had once housed apartments - at least, as far as Damien could tell. The scattered remains of cheap furniture and discarded children's toys left enough evidence behind. Whatever its former purpose, it was Damien's now. He'd come across it on the way home from a deal, found his eyes drawn to a glinting, broken window on the third floor. The doors had been chained shut, so Damien had been forced to scuttle up the fire escape, gingerly avoiding broken glass as he slid through the shattered window and inside what had clearly once been a family home.
He'd picked his way through the remains, sniffing out anything of value - there wasn't much - before coming across the real prize. A largely intact workbench. Someone had been a tinkerer.
The apartment had become something of a headquarters, a workshop. Somewhere where Damien could go that was all his own. His boss didn't know of it. His sister couldn't touch it. It was his and his alone. He'd even put a few potted plants around the place.
He'd felt so out of sorts, so powerless since his accident. It was heady to have something to himself. It was a good thing that his sister didn't know about the place because he wouldn't be able to explain the feeling that it gave him. It made him feel...real. Like he was allowed to be a person. He'd tried to transfer the emotions to paper, to write it down just to get it out, but he hadn't been able to find the right words and he'd just ended up tossing his would-be writings out the window in frustration.
Presently, he sat at his workbench, tools in hand and motorcycle parts under hand. The bike that he was working on was old. Antique. If he did get it running, it would need gasoline, which Damien had about as much access to as he did to gold. But maybe some fancy collector would buy it. Damien could use the cash.
He paused to swipe his hair out of his face, leaving a long smear of grease from his right eyebrow to his hairline. He was dressed in a torn black t-shirt and loose-fitting sweatpants with a tear down the right leg, just enough for the top edge of his prosthetic to peak out.
"Piece of shit," he grumbled, arms straining as he tried to clear some rust off the particular piece that he was working on. "Fucking - just move!" WORDS 416 TAGS @iriel
NOTES ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ |
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS & THQ |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 30, 2017 2:52:32 GMT
TIRED MECHANICAL HEART BEATS UNTIL THE SONG DISAPPEARS
It wasn’t unusual for Iriel to roam around the city on his own. It wasn’t unusal for him to get lost within five minutes either as he often forgot what direction he was heading in or when something caught his attention. He never seemed to be able to focus on one thing for too long unless it was something that truly held his interest. Which, sadly, wasn’t much. However, on this fine day Iriel had a certain destination in mind and somehow managed to not actually get lost for a chance. Now, it did take him a bit of time to make it to the old abandoned building and there was a few cats that caught his attention. He did have to give them some pets and a bit of love before ascending to his desired location.
Up and up he went until the room came into view. With the window open, Iriel silently crawled up and sat in the window. With elbows on bent knees and chin in hand he merely watched the other male mutter to himself about the piece being, well, a piece of shit. A single salt and pepper brow raised in curiosity as he couldn’t quite figure out why he was having so much trouble on one part. Cyber eyes rotated slightly to adjust his sight so he could focus better.
A few moments passed before he announced his presence with a soft and slightly confident voice, ”You should tap it a few times with a hammer on the side where the nuts are.” Blinking a few times he casually continued his one sided staring contest with Damien. ”It will break it up.” Casually, he gestured towards the small hammer that was on the tool table but did not move to get it. This wasn’t his project even though he had every urge to just take it out the others hands and go to town on it himself.
He did love old things and by God he loved reassembling them once he got them apart too. Speaking of which, he wondered if Samuel would let him near that toaster again. It wasn’t his fault that it was just too powerful for the bread. It was only a small fire anyways.
Shifting on the window he glanced down for a moment to see one of the kittens he gave a bit of loved too had followed him up. Smiling he patted the feline on the head and seemed rather content at the moment with just the cat.
MADE BY BONE DRY HOLY CRAP BATMAN
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Mo
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Post by Damien Lang on Nov 30, 2017 4:36:49 GMT
Damien was so absorbed in his grumbling that he didn't notice the quiet sounds of someone coming up the fire escape until it was too late. He didn't recognize the voice - not at first - and fear had him jumping to his feet, half spinning around, screwdriver clenched in one fist.
Thoughts spun in a swirling mass of panic - of his boss, his boss's thugs, the rival gang that had tried to finish him off. He'd trapped himself. The apartment's front door was bolted shut. There'd be no way to escape if -
Then he saw Iriel at the window. Damien sagged forward in relief, dropping the screwdriver to the floor and leaning down, pressing his weight onto his knees. He felt his heart jackrabbiting in his chest and swallowed roughly a few times. He looked up at Iriel from beneath his hair.
"Idiot," he growled, straightening. "You can't just sneak up on people like that." You can't just sneak up on me like that.
His temper flared brightly for a moment and he considered throwing something, but a soft sound brought him up short. He blinked, leaned forward, eyebrows knitting together. "Is that a cat?" TAGS @iriel
NOTES (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ |
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS & THQ |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 30, 2017 4:55:31 GMT
TIRED MECHANICAL HEART BEATS UNTIL THE SONG DISAPPEARS
Blink. Blink. Blink.
He had the feeling he had done something wrong but what that might have been he wasn’t sure. Looking around behind him he checked below. Nope, he used the fire escape correctly. Looking up, the window was in tact so he didn’t break it by any means. Confused, his vision came back around to rest on the startled male figure before him. What should he say or do in these kind of positions? A slow head tilt would be the only sign of Iriel thinking as Damien gathered himself together. ”Hm? Why not?” A pause between his sentences. ”I wasn’t loud enough?” Clearly, Iriel didn’t quite get it but he made a mental note to be louder next time he climbed up. ”Um, sorry?” Uncertainty crept up into his sitting position and voice. Confused as always, he would merely sigh after fidgeting for a moment of being a bit uncomfortable.
Idly, he would find a new thing to gather his attention on to fight off the feeling he had been a rather bad person for a moment. ”You shouldn’t drop that.” He pointed towards the screwdriver with a single metal finger. Another sets of blinks happened. Oh, right, the cat. Looking back down at the feline he would smile again. ”It is. I think it followed me up.” Picking up the tiny creature he would set it easily in his lap to continue petting the cat. With each stroke of its fur the kitty purred louder and louder with much pleasure at getting such attention.
It was so cute, so fluffy, and so adorable. He wanted to keep it but knew better then to bring stray animals to his roommates apartment. The last time he tired to bring in five cats Samuel sighed and told him they couldn’t keep them for more then a day. After that, he would have to find homes for the babies. Turns out, finding homes for cats wasn’t that hard when you handed it to someone and told them to take care of it or a giant owl will swoop down and rip their faces off, sorta.
”Not sure how it will get down…” Now that might be a problem to Iriel but the cat didn’t seem to care about the trip going downwards. It was more interested in this new environment and soon took to exploring, leaving Iriel to himself as it roamed the room.
MADE BY BONE DRY HOLY CRAP BATMAN
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Mo
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Post by Damien Lang on Nov 30, 2017 5:22:57 GMT
There was something inherently cruel about being angry with Iriel. Like kicking a dog. Damien didn't think that the other cyborg was dumb, exactly. There were things that were missing, of course, but having little education himself, he understood that there were different types of intelligence. He'd seen Iriel go to town on the junk that he scrounged up. Nobody who was stupid could do the things Iriel did.
"It's okay," he sighed, anxiously scratching at his neck and pointedly looking away from Iriel's cybernetic arm. Now that the panic and anger was fading, he felt tired. "Just. Yeah. Be louder next time? So I can hear you coming?"
His voice sounded a bit wobbly and Damien winced. He wasn't about to outline to intricacies of what made him freak out to the local homeless robot boy, so he figured that just giving a to the point request worked. He leaned down and picked up his screwdriver, mumbling a sullen, "I didn't mean to drop it."
He shuffled forward a bit, tempted over by the cat. He'd never had a pet beyond the half-hearted feeding of specific strays that he and his sister had done as children. There'd never been enough of anything to commit to another living being. These days, he cared for his plants as if they were pets, but was still in the dark over the warm and furry sort.
"I could put it in my bag and carry it down?" He'd meant it as a suggestion, but it came out a question. Still, Damien supposed that, of the two of them, Iriel was more the expert when it came to animals. He reached out a hand toward the kitten, but then seemed to think better of it, dropping it back at his side and clenching it into a fist. "What are you doing here anyway?" TAGS @iriel
NOTES (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ |
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS & THQ |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 30, 2017 5:50:12 GMT
TIRED MECHANICAL HEART BEATS UNTIL THE SONG DISAPPEARS
Right, louder. He could certainly do that. He could be much louder but how louder was too loud? What would be loud enough. Mmm, that was something to ponder on at a later date. Perhaps, the next time he came up he should stomp up the stairs? Then again, he had also been told that it is very rude to do that as well. It seemed like he was always doing something a tad wrong. Rubbing the back of his neck he merely shrugged at Damien for a moment.
"Could." Was the only answer he offered at the idea of putting the cat into the bag. It sounded like a good idea to him. What could possibly go wrong by putting a cat into a bag?
Watching the two interact, Iriel decided it was time to get out of the window. Stepping down, ducking to make sure he cleared it at the same time, he wondered over to the machinery parts Damien had been messing with when he first entered. Picking it up in his hands he raised it to eye level and turned it one way and then another.
Again, the bonic human merely shrugged his broad shoulders. "Venturing. I was told it's a good thing to do." While he spoke his face formed a frown as he recalled a past memory. "Except for areas in red. Those are strange places. I don't like them. People aren't dressed right. Not a good venturing." Ah yes, the day he ventured into the Red Light District by mistake. Such a frightening time but a good one as he did make a friend that helped him get out of the place.
"Don't care for red....I think...?" Tilting his head to the side he poked at the item for a moment and wondered if it was, perhaps, locked up in certain areas.
MADE BY BONE DRY HOLY CRAP BATMAN
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Mo
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Post by Damien Lang on Nov 30, 2017 16:29:27 GMT
Damien bit into the frown on his lips as Iriel clambered into his space and began poking around like he owned it. He took a few quick steps back in order to maintain a personal space bubble to his liking, but he eyed Iriel cautiously, particularly as he picked up Damien's project.
"Venturing," he echoed, shrugging. "Okay. I venture, too, I guess."
His brain momentarily short circuited at the thought of Iriel in, what Damien assumed that he meant, the red light district. There are so many....influences there and Damien felt weirdly protective of the broad shouldered cyborg. Not that he needed protection, but he was cooing over a cat five seconds ago and Damien was a Hardened Drug Dealer.
Damien had used to go to the red light district. Back when he was whole. High on victory after a race, he'd stumble in a brothel, laughing and drunk with his friends. Now, the pale white scars where his cybernetic legs met the stumps of his calves made him shudder to think of anyone touching him.
Not that he didn't still go there for work.
"Yeah, man. Maybe stay away from those places. They'll take all your money and then some." He paused, watched Iriel examining the motorcycle pieces. "I'm rebuilding it. It's one of those old ones that runs on gasoline. Figure I'll sell it to some rich asshole or something."
Or ride it, he thought. He'd love to ride it. He'd never been on a gasoline motorcycle before. "Or, you know," he mumbled, fidgeting. "Ride it, maybe." TAGS;@iriel
NOTES Iriel....<3_<3 |
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS & THQ |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 30, 2017 20:37:52 GMT
TIRED MECHANICAL HEART BEATS UNTIL THE SONG DISAPPEARS
Venturing. Yes, that was the best word used to describe Iriel's mindless adventures as he tired to get used to the city. Luckily, he hadn't gotten into any more mischief as of late. Regardless, Iriel seemed to have lost interest in the venturing conversation as he was now fully focused on the motorcyle part. He placed it carefully back down on the table, his mechanical hand twisted the machinery around. Once he seemed satisfied he backed away from it.
As usual, he did not take note of the others discomfort about being near or the fact his own limbs made Damien a bit, uneasy. Using his real limb, he ruffled his hair in concern. "Not locked up, thats good. Just lots of cleaning." And far more then just a lot from the looks of it. It needed more then just some tender love and care.
Moving around to the tool bench he merely leaned against it to pay attention to the little feline who seemed to find everything interesting. "Money? And then some?" He followed on the money part but not on the "then some". It was clear he wasn't fully catching on to the meaning but it didn't bother him. He merely shrugged as was becoming the usual reaction to things he didn't understand. "I'll stay away. Its too weird there." So says the overly tall Fokradiin with weird hair.
His thought process switched over from the District in question to the motorcycle part once again. Interest quickly flared up in the older male. "Gasoline bike? " Bikes where always fun and interesting and it was something he didn't get to play with too often. It was another machine that he would love to get his hands all over.
However, riding it was something he has never done. He had seen people riding them but that was about it. "Riding looks fun. You should." He had caught the muttering but he didn't know that he probably should of ignored it. Iriel was just too upfront with everything for the most part.
MADE BY BONE DRY HOLY CRAP BATMAN
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Mo
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Post by Damien Lang on Nov 30, 2017 21:11:42 GMT
Damien narrowed his eyes at the cat as it approached one of his potted plants, dipping its nose into the dirt and raising up a paw, intentions unknown, but too unkind for Damien's taste. "Hey!" he squawked, his tone dark enough to send the cat scrambling away. He felt a little guilty, but plants were such fragile things.
"Yeah," he agreed, crossing over to the workbench and dusting his fingers lightly over the part. "Rusty as all hell. I'll have to get some of that fancy cleaner."
He was glad that Iriel seemed content to switch subjects from the red light district back to the bike. Damien didn't really feel like explaining the economics of prostitution to anyone, really. "Yeah, gasoline? Petrol? Powered old cars before everything went electric? Nobody rides these things anymore, so rich people collect 'em. Instead of, you know, using that money to feed people."
He trailed after the cat, watching its little tail and considering picking it up. "I can't ride anymore," he explained, focusing on the kitten. "Had an accident." He paused, had a thought. "I could teach you, though. Not on a gas bike, though." Didn't need Iriel losing more limbs if the thing exploded. TAGS;@iriel
NOTES [^._.^] |
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS & THQ |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 3, 2017 22:46:23 GMT
TIRED MECHANICAL HEART BEATS UNTIL THE SONG DISAPPEARS
The poor feline, it was only curious about the potted plant. It wasn’t like it might of wanted to use the bathroom in it, actually, it probably did as most animals seemed to prefer certain things and spots to mark as their own. Iriel only looked at the cat that was moving at top speeds. It ran completely away from the plant, under the tool bench and to the window. For a moment, he thought it might of ran down the stairs but seeing its small furry head pop up over the window cell and staring at them with wide eyes did he know it hadn’t made its way down. He said nothing over the matter.
”Yeah.” Would be his rather simple reply in agreement. The part was rusted over horribly and would need some serious soaking and scrubbing. It would even probably take a days work if not a little more. However, it would turn out to be a fine piece of machinery once it was all fixed. Iriel was certain of it. Again, he would tilt his head to the side like the curious cat that remained outside at the fancy cleaner. He had an idea of what Damien was speaking of but where to get it was beyond him. He only had access to it at his Master’s home when he was a slave. Even then, he wasn’t actually allowed to use it but he did so anyways. Since then, he hadn’t recalled seeing any anywhere. ”Hmmm.”
Those rusty gears started moving in that big head of his while he squinted his eyes. ”Feed people? I haven’t seen them do that before.” Not at all. Most of the rich people he had been around often felt it self inclined to devour the most expensive thing possible while giving their property the basic things that was below them. No, he couldn’t see them ever giving anything good out. Shaking his head out of pure confusion he returned to the one thing he knew about, machines.
”I don’t know.” He spoke slowly with discomfort. ”I don’t know what anything…means.” Let alone being able to read. Currently, he only knew some of the letters of the alphabet. Actually, he only knew of about five. I, R, E, L, and A. The rest where still a bit beyond him but at least he could spell his first name now.
”Accident? You look fine to me.” Idly, the man scratched at the long and jagged scar across his nose. He had his own “accidents” in the past but they never really held him back much. It was usually people that did or rather himself, as he was coming to find out.
MADE BY BONE DRY HOLY CRAP BATMAN
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
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Post by Damien Lang on Dec 4, 2017 22:28:28 GMT
Damien paused and bit his lip, getting the impression that he'd somehow insulted or upset Iriel. Not being skilled enough in reading the average person, let alone the cyborg in his workshop who was an entire category of his own, Damien was uncertain what exactly he'd said or if his interpretation was correct. Idiot, he thought sourly. Aya always said - fondly, of course - that he was too thickheaded to live and it was times like these that Damien saw the grain of truth in her words.
"Yeah, rich assholes don't care about anyone, but themselves," he sat down again in the torn red leather chair that he'd set up next to his workbench. He'd scavenged it from a dumpster and lugged it up three flights of fire escape, sweating and puffing the entire way. He sat cross-legged, feet tucked neatly in his lap. "That's why they get clean water and nice houses while you 'n me are here."
Not that he'd know what to do with all the luxuries the city's elite were afforded, but still. It wasn't right.
"Uh, yeah." He scratched the back of his neck nervously, unable to meet Iriel's eyes. "My bike crashed," Not I crashed my bike because it wasn't his fault. "I get sick. Sometimes. When I try to ride. My l-legs - I get sick."
Damien cringed and stared at his fingernails, thoroughly embarrassed by his - well, everything. Inability to speak. Inability to ride. Inability to just be....anything without screwing it up. TAGS @iriel
NOTES welcome back!!! |
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS & THQ |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 5, 2017 4:45:38 GMT
TIRED MECHANICAL HEART BEATS UNTIL THE SONG DISAPPEARS
Silence was the only thing that would happen between the two of them after Damien had stopped speaking. It wasn't because he was insulted or upset. He was just taking in the information and processing it little by little in order to properly word his sentences. Once it seemed to find its way into his understanding he would promptly scratch at his scar once again.
His gaze moved down towards Damien's leg and from there he just started in deep thought. Why would it make him sick? Crashing a bike could lead to a lot of things and he understood that but he didn't understand why he didn't ride? The leg looked okay from his current location. It was just, well, from the looks of the ratted pants, cybernetic.
"Is it broken?" He finally asked with complete honest concern. "I can fix it." He would then gesture to the window where a bag was hidden from sight. Iriel, as usual, had dragged up some parts he had found in a dumpster. "Then you can ride and I can watch." More like watch and learn. That was usually how Iriel picked things up to a degree. But with this subject he was uncertain on how to fully go about it. Damien seemed uncomfortable but his own curiosity on the matters was overriding his empathy.
MADE BY BONE DRY HOLY CRAP BATMAN
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
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Post by Damien Lang on Dec 5, 2017 16:55:20 GMT
Damien had never asked where the scar on Iriel's face had come from. He'd assumed the worst, instead. Or, at least, what his mind could conceive of as the worst. Abusive parents. Slaver. Knife fight. It made Damien wonder if Iriel had always been the way that he was or if something had molded him that way.
He jerked backward at Iriel's suggestion, pressing his back into the leather chair, legs twitching as if to run. "Uh, no," he said, licking his lips. "That won't work."
Absently, he rubbed at his knee, just above where flesh ended and machine began. He remembered when he'd first gotten the prostheses, how his legs - his real legs - had ached, like a muscle spasm, but deeper. It left him arching against the hospital bed and gasping, confusion and fear winding up through his chest because his real legs were gone. Replaced. They were hunks of metal, the bargain basic cybernetics, so why did it still feel like his flesh and blood limbs were there, still crushed under his bike?
"It's me. Inside." He frowned, not knowing how to explain what both confused and shamed him. "I got bad wiring."
Would that work?
TAGS @iriel
NOTESO_O |
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS & THQ |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 6, 2017 1:20:27 GMT
TIRED MECHANICAL HEART BEATS UNTIL THE SONG DISAPPEARS
The jerk did not go unnoticed by the keen eyes of Iriel. Though he said nothing about it he did find it slightly strange to get that kind of reaction. He supposed he might of, oh what did Samuel call it, stepping on a soft spot? No, that wasn’t right at all. Oh well, the term didn’t really matter but he appeared to have said something utterly wrong to get that kind of reaction. But what it could be was beyond him. ”Won’t? Hmmm.” The bionic man tilted his head to the side with the side of his face resting against his metallic hand.
In other words, the problem didn’t reside from the prosthetic but elsewhere. No amount of rewiring, circuit boarding or by passing would make a difference. Even the parts left in the bag by the window would be useless in this situation. ”Oh…” Iriel watched Damien with concern clearly on his features but did nothing in the terms of comforting or furthering the subject for the time being. He wanted to know more but taking note of how the other was it might be best not to pry into something he wasn’t welcome into. His gaze would slowly wonder back down to the hidden leg with mild interest.
His mind wondered away from the motorcycle and was fully focused on the young man before him. He wondered what kind of metal was there, how old it was, what kind of circuits where in it. Did it have nerve endings? How many joints? Without realizing, he edged a little closer to Damien to peer down and before he could even stop himself he pointed at the leg once again. ”Can I look at it?” His curiosity was killing him but if there is one thing he had learned as of late it was to be polite. Samuel had thumped that into his head enough he was starting to adopt it into his persona. ”What model is it?”
He paused, ”That’s okay, right?”” Then suddenly, as if it might help his case to see the said limb he pointed at his eyes, ”You can see mine.” He then offered a rather soft smile.
MADE BY BONE DRY HOLY CRAP BATMAN
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
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Post by Damien Lang on Dec 6, 2017 4:29:34 GMT
He felt caged, the chair at his back and Iriel at his front, and realized the tactical error that he'd made by sitting down in the first place. He pressed his feet to the floor and shoved, scraping the chair backward noisily, and stood. He moved a few feet away, putting distance between himself and Iriel until his heart shifted down from his throat.
There was an expression on Iriel's face that twisted nastily in Damien's guts because he knew that look - he saw it on his sister plenty enough. Pity or something close to it. A waspish buzzing rippled out through his limbs and Damien felt his hearing go out as his ears began to ring.
He bit his tongue to stop the snarling exclamation that was trying to yank itself out of his chest. He was torn between kicking Iriel out of the apartment and screaming at him. It was unclear which option would make Damien feel better.
"No, you can't look at it," his hearing returned in a rush and he was embarrassed to hear his voice had risen an octave or two higher than he'd like. "Why would you want to look at it? That's - that's - " Gross? Painful? Humiliating? His brain supplied a variety of adjectives. "You can't." TAGS @iriel
NOTES i'm saving up for their therapy sessions |
MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS & THQ |
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