[ Reggie's leaning on his desk eating lunch -- one of the small plates from the bar -- standing up, Moose snoozing on the floor by his feet. He sets his plate on the desk when Nate appears and quickly dabs his face with a napkin. ]
No worries, bro, I hear ya-- that stupid border's given me plenty of grief, too.
[ He rolls his eyes in a commiserating way, then offers his plate over. ]
What do they do? [ Reggie plucks up one of the joints curiously, turning it over between his fingers, examining it in the air. ] Like, same ballpark at least, I take it...? Except stronger, made of magic, all that good stuff?
[ Grinning a little, he begins lining the joints up across his desktop according to size, picking up each one and investigating it much the same way he'd done with the first, even though he has no real way to tell much of anything about them just by eye.
Still, it's a relief to have them, and that Nate is here as well, because Reggie could really stand to take a load off.
He looks back over at Nate, eyebrows bumping upward. ]
Well, y'know-- [ With a half-shrug and a smirk. ] Been worse.
[ Half-muttered, almost just to himself. Uppers, thank god-- his favorite. Not that he expected anything less of Nate, of course. That Nate just gets it was never in question.
Reggie holds the joint out to be lit, taking a slow and pleasant drag from it almost immediately. Sweet but not cloying, not at all like smoking perfume or anything, despite that always being how Reggie imagines "floral" to smell or taste. ]
Good stuff. [ He blows smoke out from between his lips, grinning over at Nate again. ] Now that is what I'm talkin' about.
[ As he takes another leisurely drag, Reggie doesn't give off any appearance of hesitation, or a need to think slowly through the question, though he is thinking even as he takes his sweet time with the joint, letting his eyes drop closed with ease as he blows out another concentrated jet of smoke.
Then, opening his eyes again, he looks back at Nate and nods, shrugs, like it's the easiest decision he's ever made. ]
Yeah, I mean, why wouldn't it be? [ (Don't answer that.) ] If she tries to just start fucking up her life now, don't let her.
[ Nate lights one for himself, and takes a drag while the reality of that question settles on Reggie. He reacts much like Nate expects him to, which isn't surprising, but is sort of sad, honestly. He nods, and takes a second drag before he answers. ]
No, I won't. You're allowed to have a feeling about it, though.
[ He watches Reggie carefully, wondering how much he's let himself feel about any of it. Nate's own reaction to death had happened over months, and he's well aware of that fact. Reggie will deal with it on his own time, and there won't be any rushing it.
Nate's concern is just that he'll bury it as deep as he can, without really feeling any of it at all. ]
[ It's just... difficult, really fucking difficult, for him to figure out what exactly they are, never mind also put into words, which is something that's never been a strong suit of his.
But still. He does know that he should, probably needs to, and sooner rather than later. Wherever he ends up landing on it will be better than wherever he is now, lost and conflicted and truly bone-fucking-tired. ]
I dunno, Nate. [ He pauses, exhales out a huff of smoke, then shakes his head. Clarifies: ] No, I mean... I do know, but that's not the point, either.
[ It feels right to him as he says it, even if not even Reggie is entirely sure what he actually means by it. The gears are turning slowly in his mind, putting feelings down one by one like pieces to a puzzle he's trying to put back together without a box.
He takes another drag of the joint, taking his time, then goes on: ]
I miss her. And I know already that I'm gonna want her back, but I-- [ Another pause, his tongue running over his lips idly. ] It's like, how many more times in my life am I gonna have to keep friggin' doing this, y'know? Sometimes I feel like it's all I ever do.
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sidehustles) wrote2021-10-19 02:46 pm
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have you talked much to her since
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Not yet
Still dunno what to say.
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i don't think i would either.
how long is your contract for?
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listen i won't be long.
have you had anyone with you?
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I mean... well ok. Not very often. Or like probably ever, aside from this
But like it HAPPENED and now I just gotta live with it
(No pun intended)
What do you mean? Like, in my office?
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hang on, i'm only gonna be another 5 mins
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[ Now that he's in the Up, he can teleport to the Scratch. To save time, he sends himself directly into Reggie's office, and turns to look for him. ]
Hey. Sorry about that. The ongoing downside to being a felon.
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No worries, bro, I hear ya-- that stupid border's given me plenty of grief, too.
[ He rolls his eyes in a commiserating way, then offers his plate over. ]
Here, want a fish cake?
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Nah, I'm good. You eat, though. Here.
[ He takes a packet out of his pocket, and unrolls a selection of joints. ]
They're my strongest, so. Good for the rest of the day, I'd say. How are you, Reg?
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[ Grinning a little, he begins lining the joints up across his desktop according to size, picking up each one and investigating it much the same way he'd done with the first, even though he has no real way to tell much of anything about them just by eye.
Still, it's a relief to have them, and that Nate is here as well, because Reggie could really stand to take a load off.
He looks back over at Nate, eyebrows bumping upward. ]
Well, y'know-- [ With a half-shrug and a smirk. ] Been worse.
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[ Sometimes he mixes in other things, but for this, he put together his strongest euphoric mix and went with it. He shrugs. ]
It'll just taste floral. Here.
[ He conjures a little flame on the tip of his thumb, and holds it out. ]
Uh, Alina...she wanted to quit the Theatre. I wouldn't let her, it was pretty clear she was under the, uh. Influence, when it happened.
[ He sits back, watching Reggie. ]
Is that okay with you?
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[ Half-muttered, almost just to himself. Uppers, thank god-- his favorite. Not that he expected anything less of Nate, of course. That Nate just gets it was never in question.
Reggie holds the joint out to be lit, taking a slow and pleasant drag from it almost immediately. Sweet but not cloying, not at all like smoking perfume or anything, despite that always being how Reggie imagines "floral" to smell or taste. ]
Good stuff. [ He blows smoke out from between his lips, grinning over at Nate again. ] Now that is what I'm talkin' about.
[ As he takes another leisurely drag, Reggie doesn't give off any appearance of hesitation, or a need to think slowly through the question, though he is thinking even as he takes his sweet time with the joint, letting his eyes drop closed with ease as he blows out another concentrated jet of smoke.
Then, opening his eyes again, he looks back at Nate and nods, shrugs, like it's the easiest decision he's ever made. ]
Yeah, I mean, why wouldn't it be? [ (Don't answer that.) ] If she tries to just start fucking up her life now, don't let her.
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No, I won't. You're allowed to have a feeling about it, though.
[ He watches Reggie carefully, wondering how much he's let himself feel about any of it. Nate's own reaction to death had happened over months, and he's well aware of that fact. Reggie will deal with it on his own time, and there won't be any rushing it.
Nate's concern is just that he'll bury it as deep as he can, without really feeling any of it at all. ]
What do you feel about her now?
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[ It's just... difficult, really fucking difficult, for him to figure out what exactly they are, never mind also put into words, which is something that's never been a strong suit of his.
But still. He does know that he should, probably needs to, and sooner rather than later. Wherever he ends up landing on it will be better than wherever he is now, lost and conflicted and truly bone-fucking-tired. ]
I dunno, Nate. [ He pauses, exhales out a huff of smoke, then shakes his head. Clarifies: ] No, I mean... I do know, but that's not the point, either.
[ It feels right to him as he says it, even if not even Reggie is entirely sure what he actually means by it. The gears are turning slowly in his mind, putting feelings down one by one like pieces to a puzzle he's trying to put back together without a box.
He takes another drag of the joint, taking his time, then goes on: ]
I miss her. And I know already that I'm gonna want her back, but I-- [ Another pause, his tongue running over his lips idly. ] It's like, how many more times in my life am I gonna have to keep friggin' doing this, y'know? Sometimes I feel like it's all I ever do.