tampered | once upon a time i was falling in love [ongoing]

Free food is free food, no matter what, and although Rictor has always been full of pride and with no small amount of cultural machismo, he's learned from a young age to never, ever look a gift horse in the mouth.

It's still slightly awkward when he steps up to Remy's apartment, still wearing his heavy wool ribbed sweater and green sueded leather pants, Madrox' delightfully patronizing X-Factor uniform. The uniform isn't the only awkward thing-- Rictor always had had awkward relationships with the X-Men proper, and although Remy wasn't, as he suggested, a part of that group any more, they'd only ever met in passing.

More awkward yet the herd of giant pink elephants in the room, one wearing a bright red headress.

He clears his throat and lingers there in the doorway.

"Anybody home? And don't say 'we don't want any.'"

Maybe that x-tank top is a little funnier now, in a morbid way. Is he an X-Man, pardoned by Xavier? Is he a Marauder, never having been 'fired' since Sinister's death?

"Hey, man." His voice is a little quieter than it could have been. It's awkward. He nearly murdered Julio as Death, but somehow, it's not the thing that weighs on his mind the most. Mutant suicides. Saps. It hurts like he can't breathe, to think of it.

Remy extends the cigarette pack. "C'mon in."

He shrugs in a very superficially nonchalant way, digging his hands into the pockets of his pants and sliding in with steps that are a lot more sure than he feels. He wonders what it is about his life that this is always the case, that he's the one being offered shit he doesn't deserve and being awkward and grateful about it.

Still, it's nice to know that they had enough in common with those fancy Roman crosses they're bearing that Rictor doesn't have to worry about finding a port in a storm, not whenever there's the idea of fraternity still existing.

"You didn't have to do this, you know. You've been through more shit than I have, I could have begged my way into a cup of soup until I got a job or something. I'll make it up to you somehow. We can bitch about Scott more while I eat."

Remy walks further into the apartment, first shutting the door partway but not latching it. Doesn't matter - he's on the top floor and doesn't have any neighbors. If someone's skulking around he'd prefer to hear them.

"Ain't charity," he says with a shrug. He doesn't say 'or pity' either, though it's the truth. Rictor's one of them. When Remy lost his own powers he was out of his mind. He knows, somewhat, how it feels. He never thought he'd get them back. But he did.

"Ticking's makin' everything in my head worse." He pokes around in the fridge for one of the many containers he's been gifted with. As an aside, quieter, he adds: "I don' really want to be alone."

He follows Remy, trying to look more casual than obedient, and slides into a chair at the other man's table, folding his arms to rest his elbows on it and stare with an admitted degree of interest at the contents of the fridge, and then at Remy's face, considering the dark eyes.

Eventually, the words Remy has been saying are actually absorbed, and Rictor shakes his head, almost upset with himself.

"I didn't notice the ticking until just now, it's-- actually, it probably just became background noise. It's almost better than silence, which is all I've been getting since-- whatever. It's like I'm floating in water. You wouldn't understand. Glad I can help by sitting on my ass and eating your food, though. Good deal."

He puts whatever's left from Jack and some of Eden's Irish mess on a plate and sticks in the the microwave, and thinks about telling Rictor when he lost his powers. He's not sure if it would be patronizing or not.

God has abandoned us. He'd said it when the younger man had asked if he knew what M-Day was. Remy's not sure he believes in God, but that's sure what it feels like. Should he have some kind of fucked up survivor's guilt?

Plate in one hand, two beers in the other, he joins him at the other and sticks the plate in front of Ric and sets the bottles down, uncapping one as he does.

"Wanda doesn't know. Erased her own head. I think I reminded her, by accident - I didn't know, it was like, two thousand and three when I first showed up." He shakes his head. "Fuck me, man..."

He takes a drink and doesn't say he was hoping it wasn't real. He knew better all along and he certainly knows better now.

Edited 2008-12-07 03:21 (UTC)

He sets into the food almost as soon as Remy puts it down, because he's hungry, and when you grow up poor as he did, it's hard to get the feast or famine attitude out of your instincts and actions. His eyes are serious though, and hooded by a heavy set of eyebrows used to frowning, although his table manners are leaving something to be desired.

He swallows most of it before speaking, memories of all of the violence he'd been trying to patrol as a neutral party in Mutant Town for as long as he was. I am the motherfucking shore patrol motherfucker.

"Fuck you for what? It ain't your fault. It ain't even her fault. It's fucking Pietro's fault and I don't even blame his ass, even if it is a semi-evil one. This shit happened 'cause people are hateful and shitty. Even if she remembers, she deserves to know she's not being blamed. I did something terrible when I lost control once, too."

Remy hardly notices. He's got manners, but only because they were trained into him by the Guilds. Otherwise he's all beer cans and motorcycle boots, and doesn't care. He fiddles with his pack of cigarettes, half-wishing he had a deck of cards on hand, just for something to do, but he's not carrying anything right now.

"Pietro... shoulda done more than clothesline that fucker a long time ago." A pause, a sigh would have gone there with anyone else. "Their daddy. Done some wrong things, even if I sometimes agree wit politics. Soulless, some people. He's one of 'em."

He takes a drink of his beer.

"..We all have. Except Scott. Bastard."

He gets quiet for a moment, eating more and finally grabbing the beer bottle, ripping the cap off with his teeth and slapping it down on the top of the table. He stares at it while he talks, a convenient focal point to keep him from looking at Remy, or the floor, or something else uncomfortable.

"Pietro's not that bad. He makes a good point sometimes, says interesting things. Helped me out a little, no matter what reasons he had for doing it. He used to be decent, he could still be decent, but that popa of his got him too fucked up to function. Not saying I agree with him, but I can't hate him. Es arroz para todos los moles."

He shakes his head and finishes half his bottle before speaking again, as if he needed to cool the heat in his voice before continuing.

"I wish there was some way we could fix Scarlet Witch. But none of us is Tinkerbell. We can't wiggle our noses and make her better. I'll just have to remember to tread lightly."

"There's a whole lotta people who can be decent but still need a good kick to the head. I'm sure I could do with one." There's a twisted sort of humor in that.

"It ain't even de worst for us, you know? Billy an' Tommy are here. Half de Young Avengers team is."

He goes back to eating, slower now, considering what he has to say about that. He's not too familiar with the Young Avengers, as busy as he's been reading the riot act to folks in his own neighborhood. He's seen them on TV, though.

Seen the hair on those twins.

Knows.

He presses his lips together into a thin line and shrugs his shoulders.

"Maybe it's enlightened self-interest on my part, but I hope they know none of this shit is their fault. And if they don't I'll beat it into them. Poor hijos."

Speak of the devil: Wanda, Donna and Sirja in tow, is at the door right this very second. She has a brown paper bag with tupperware inside, tucked under one arm, and although she notes that the door isn't latched, she still knocks. It's the right and polite thing to do, after all.

She thinks she catches a sentence, a male voice that doesn't sound like Remy, but it slides past her too quickly and she doesn't pay it much mind. He has lots of friends, it'd make sense if he has other company. Wanda glances at Donna and Sirja, smiling slightly. It's nice to have a child around, even if sometimes she has to quietly sit by herself for a few minutes after spending time with Sirja, and doesn't know why.

It doesn't matter, really.

Donna's got tupperware, too, but mostly Donna has baby in her arms, not having seen the point in taking the stroller (or the goddamn hovering carseat that Tony brought by) for a relatively short trip. So she doesn't do the knocking, but she does do a little announcing:

"Hey in there, meals on heels! -you are the devil's own fucking child, don't bite Mommy."

Remy opens his mouth to respond to Julio when the knock on the door sounds. He's in the process of wondering who it is when-- oh, hi Donna.

He glances over at the door, then looks back at the other man, and says so quiet it's practically mouthing it: "Wanda's with her."

And then he gets up, pausing only for a moment to stare vaguely at the floor as he runs a hand through his hair and gets ready for this. Then he's over there and the door is open and he's all smiles, Southern friendliness and charm.

"Mon dieu! I've never seen such beautiful delivery-women, this must be illegal!"

Edited 2008-12-07 04:32 (UTC)

His head whirls around to stare at the doorway when he hears Donna's voice, and Remy's face catches his eye as he whispers, calming him down. Time to keep quiet about the M-Day issues, back to those pink elephants in the room. Or Scarlet Elephants. And apparently, niños. He takes another look toward the door as the women come in and then turns back to his food after muttering a quiet greeting.

Remy's already got them handled, after all. Very well handled, and he takes a moment to mentally vindictively wish Rahne Sinclair on this man at some point, because he deserves to get shot down by a woman for once in his life.

He takes another mouthful, quietly miming a gagging noise. Seriously?

Wanda gives Remy a little bit of an amused look at the enthusiastic greeting, and underneath that, she really is glad to see him whole and healthy. Hearing that someone you're fond of has been in a coma and you had no idea is of course going to be distressing, but she felt particularly bothered by it, maybe because she was so ignorant of the entire situation.

Part of her feels like something is still being kept from her, but that isn't a subject she wants to think about right now, so instead Wanda smiles bright at him--and Ric, who seems like the quiet type at first glance.

"It's good to see you, too, Remy," she says, meaning it, "It's--been a while. But! This is Donna, I think you're acquainted, and of course, Sirja."

Sirja is going to be so spoiled.

"Hey, I am an ex-loli, there is nothing illegal going on here. Yet." Thank you for that, Donna, you are made of class. Or sass. One of those. She bounces lightly as they come in, bright-eyed enthusiasm in lieu of any real understanding of the situation.

"Yeeees, this is my girl. Say hi, baby, say hello-"

Sirja, until this point mostly interested in Donna's glasses, performs her favourite move ever and abruptly lunges for Remy as the nearest new person. ...maybe this is how she says hello.

He laughs and it's genuine. He really does love kids, and two beautiful women showing up at his door with food (even if one did put him in a coma for a week, he can appreciate what there is to appreciate) don't hurt. Sirja lunges and he instinctively nabs her, not pulling her away from mom but balancing there.

"Yo, bebe, ne volent pas loin de maman!" he chuckles, dodging the immediate reaction of MUST GRAB HAIR.

"Wanda, Donna, this is Ric, I found him in a ditch on de side of de road an' decided to feed him." Smile, Julio!

Julio, on the other hand, hates children. And kids. And some clones from alien universes. And most women and men. He finishes what's on his plate-- it really is good food, familiar and comforting, and he's almost sad now that it's gone. Also because he can't pretend to have his mouth occupied with anything else now. He eyes the baby warily.

When Remy calls him out, though, he picks up one hand and gives a military wave to the two women, smiling a very strained smile. He's not the type of person who is full of social graces, more introverted than anything and preferring quiet one-on-ones to social gatherings.

And so he just answers, trying to be disarming and self-depreciative, because it works with Monet. Don't let them smell your fear, women are like sharks.

"We graduated from the same school. Weird, right? Ignore me, I'm just here to be a garbage disposal and a pair of noise-canceling headphones."

Sirja is clearly just starting her forays into guerrilla warfare early. Lunge attacks are much sneakier than some other alternatives, after all. Wanda casts around for some place to set the bag she's brought with her, choosing to keep pretending she doesn't notice how uncomfortable Ric seems. Maybe they should just leave him alone--but then again, it'd be just as awkward to leave someone out.

"I remember you," Wanda says, absently, adjusting the bag balanced on her hip, "We spoke on the Network, didn't we? -- Remy, where should I put this?"

"Ric!" Haha, no, he is not going to get left alone, not after the back and forth about whether or not he's at risk of getting rabies. That smile has teeth in it, Julio, watch yourself. (Of course, Donna likes to show her affection by climbing on people and biting them a little, so.) "I don't know about y'all, but we definitely talked. C'mon now, baby girl, don't grab the nice man's hair 'til you know him better - sorry, she's a people eater - coooome on back here-"

Donna is an expert at manoeuvring her daughter, apparently, and between the both of them they somehow fill a lot more space than a slim-built woman of 5'1" and a one year old should rightly be able to fill.

"I actually never went to school," this is true. Remy is a home educated half-homeless orphan-turned-prophet. Oh and he was forced to marry the insane heir to the Assassin's Guild to fulfill said prophecy when he was seventeen. Good times.

Remy smiles at Julio. It's half 'HaHA you regret teasing the ladies on the network NOW don't you' and half 'Sorry this got sprung on you'. He's not sure which is more true. He's kind of a social bastard.

"Jus' on de kitchen counter's fine," he tells Wanda, and gives her a softer smile. He knows she's been worried, in her own way. And it tugs at him inside that she's feeling like that. What must her head be like? What if he couldn't remember the Morlocks?

He shoves the thought out of his head.

He shoots Remy a mildly belligerent look which he hopes conveys his message of 'stop ruining my lies even if they contain you, I'm trying to not be awkward!', but which he is also fully aware will no doubt be pointless. There's definitely a feeling of still being an upstart kid, even at his age, around both Logan and Remy.

He sighs and turns his attention back to the...slobbery breakable baby, and grimaces.

"Uh. Yeah, hi, both of you. It's really great to meet you. And your...very beautiful...baby. Ah-- no mames!"

The sticky baby hands are in his hair oh god somebody save him. Raaaaahne! Moneeeet! Terryyyy!

Wanda goes to set the bag down on the kitchen counter, and unfortunately abandons Ric to Donna's teeth and Sirja's burgeoning interest in accosting random strangers. Once she has taken a few of the tupperware containers out, just so the bag won't topple over, she turns back to Remy and looks him over. It's totally unsubtle, too, because even though she's sure he's had plenty of appropriate medical care (...right? He wouldn't skip out on that after waking up, would he?) she just wants to make sure he seems okay.

He never told her what happened. Maybe she'll ask again later. For now, Wanda arches up onto her tiptoes, because he's tall, and gives Remy a hug.

"I told you I would," she reminds him.

The door's not entirely shut, and there's noise coming from inside the apartment, so Eden pushes the door, takes a look in...

...and there have clearly been other plans made, so biting her lower lip, Eden then closes the door all the way and tiptoes back out.

Oh, wait.

That door wasn't latched shut when she opened it.

Oops.

"Take it like a man," Donna orders Julio, because she might be 5'1" and occasionally more at home when there's a Man In Charge but that doesn't mean shit when it comes to bossing them around, and then- "Shit, hold this-"

Sirja, Julio may be glad to note, is not actually sticky, just...very, very friendly. And in his arms, now, because Donna's going to investigate who just tried to sneak out.

"Hi! Come back in here."

Do not trifle with her, Eden, the phrase 'aggressively friendly' was coined with this woman in mind.

The aggressively friendly air is noted, particularly in the woman's expression, and Eden pauses halfway down the hall and rubs the back of her neck.

"I don't know, I think I might've gotten the wrong place," she laughs lightly.

Crowds are not quite her thing. She'll stay if forced, however.

Wanda hugs him so he wraps his arms around her, eyes closed for a minute. Maybe he stays that way a little too long, but he needs to know she's okay. She's powerful and dangerous and they shouldn't piss her off but by god, they'll protect her. Or he will, anyway. When he pulls back he keeps one arm around her shoulders and gives her a friendly squeeze and a smile, as if to assure her he's fine.

Then he's distracted by the commotion at the door. "Ah? Got a lurker?" he excuses himself and walks over, poking his head out over Donna's shoulder.

"Eden!" He grins. "Rejoignez-nous! Come in, come in... looks like everybody picked now, ah?"

His dark green eyes are pointed to the corners as Wanda hugs Remy, taking them in with his peripheral vision for a moment with a worried yet almost approving twitch of the corner of his lips. This is before Donna shoves the baby into his hands, though.

He yelps, startled, and watches Donna move to call in whoever it is at the door, but his hands hold gentle and fast. As much as he dislikes wailing little snot-bags, he's got a sensitive touch, owing to his former mutation and years of helping his mother care for younger siblings and babysat cousins.

Still, all distaste aside, Sirja is a pretty girl now that his eyes are watching her carefully.

"Hola, crayola."

It's nice having a lot of people around, Wanda thinks; she's sociable, to the point where she sort of absorbs the commotion and uses it as a reason to keep paying attention to everyone around her. And she likes people, truly, even if it's sometimes in a reserved sense. She hears Eden's name, and stops for a second, eyes narrowing almost-imperceptibly. So Eden knows Remy well enough to drop by? It's nice when your friends know your friends--convenient--but...

So maybe Eden did know about the coma, Wanda wonders. It might have slipped her mind.

Maybe she's being paranoid. She crosses the apartment to go say hi to Ric (who has been occupied by a one-year-old, looks like). "Making a friend?"

When Remy comes out, well, there's no denying it anymore, and so Eden's lips pull into a smile as she sighs and walks back towards the apartment, hand brushing her bangs away out of habit, even if they're not long enough to get in the way as it is. She purses her lips, gaze flickering up to Remy for a moment before she makes a slight detour.

"As I suppose you must've guessed by now, I'm Eden," she introduces herself to the woman standing next to Remy. "Recent acquaintance of Remy's, and by recent I mean just from all of a few hours ago, I think."

But then she turns to Remy, offering him a little shrug.

"Guess I owe you that hug, huh?"

"I'm Donna! I never met any of y'all before, I'm just nosy." And very honest! Or selectively so, anyway. She beams at Eden. "Come in here, let's feed you or something, you are the skinniest fucking thing." She pats Remy's side with little to no regard for personal space, although plenty of warning, "He doesn't need all of it, look at him, he's huge. ...I think I attached my child to a crazy man excuse me."

This woman is wearing a wedding ring. Imagine what her husband's life must have been like.

...Sirja, meanwhile, evidently feels that Julio is her favourite person ever and she's going to show that by trying to touch his face. And/or put his nose in her mouth. One of these things is more likely to succeed than the other.

Remy gives Eden a half-apologetic half-thankful look. He's glad to see her - he's generally glad for lots of happy people, especially when he's feeling like shit. Which hasn't felt since people started to appear with smiles - but he can tell she's shy, so he tones it down a bit in greeting.

He laughs at Donna as she breezes by. "Hey ain't my fault I got fed well as a kid."

He turns back to Eden and offers his hand, at least. "No pressure, ah?"

Julio is very glad to hold Sirja back out to Donna at arms' length, because he was starting to find her endearing right up until she started putting her mouth all over his face, both because ew baby breath and because he's slightly worried he might irritate her skin because he fails at shaving.

He turns to Wanda, not quite meeting her eyes for a second, but then controlling his gaze and offering a small, lop-sided smile. There's a blush rising to his face, out of frustration and embarrassment, because-- it's Wanda Maximoff, and the elephants are stampeding around and trumpeting, but he has nothing against her and furthermore, does not desire to be comatose. Ever.

"I like her. She don't talk much and she doesn't care what I'm wearing or how I look."

Wanda is not sure what is up with Ric, but she is absolutely not going to mention it. Elephants, indeed. Maybe she can make them go away with force of will alone (or maybe that's not a joke anyone should be making where this woman is concerned).

"She appears to be a fan of you, too," Wanda notes, amiably, taking an empty seat for herself.

There's a mention of Eden being thin—yes, she knows—and of a child being left with a crazy man, but everything passes in a hurry and a whirlwind, and Eden can only imagine that there'll take some getting used to, with that woman. Chance encounters probably turn into... lasting friendships, with that one.

So she laughs, unable to respond to the remark before Donna leaves, and then looks up at Remy and the offered hand, shaking her head slightly before slipping in—being thin helps—and giving him a hug.

"This isn't the time for handshakes. Particularly when I'm pretty sure I'll need you to shield me from the mob in there," Eden jokes.

Donna bumps noses with her baby girl and bumps her hip against Wanda, grinning at both of them. Her high energy cheerfulness gets kind of ragged-edged and raw in places, but she's moving, talking, living too quickly for it to be easily noticed - and everybody here has got something else on their mind than some crazy girl's drama.

(She likes that about it here. Nobody's worried about her beyond the new girl with the baby, there's nobody she has to convince she's fine when she doesn't believe it herself. She can do what she likes and they can't tell her no because they don't know.)

"Sirja loves everybody, don't you, baby? Girl's gonna be trouble, she gets that from me." Yeah uh.

And so Eden gets a hug, squeezing - everyone else is so tiny, really. He smiles and says, half-private, "Peut-être que je voulais baiser la main, no?" And leaves no other explanation for that, but leaves his arm around her shoulders when he turns back to said mob.

"Okay, everybody sit and call what you want to drink. I got liquor an' orange juice."

His eyes snap between the three women in the room, eventually coming back to settle on Wanda's earnest and warm face, and then on the back of his own hand. The large group of strangers, plus Wanda Maximoff, is starting to make him edgy, especially with the way his lack of powers already makes him feel claustrophobic.

"She just don't know better like the rest of the world."

He shrugs at her and shakes his head at Remy.

"Nothing. Nothing for me."

"Are you going to make us drinks, Remy?" Wanda teases, pushing her hair out of her face with one hand. That's not really an answer like he asked for, but she hasn't really decided yet. Drinking probably isn't a good idea. "Should you really be up and about so soon?"

While she's satisfied that he's physically well enough, that won't stop Wanda from participating in some good-natured fussing for the remainder of the evening. She also keeps an eye on Donna--for as much as they're becoming fast friends, being contemporaries in a sense, Wanda feels some responsibility toward the younger woman. Coming to a place like the City all by yourself is one frightening thing, but having a child in tow is another, and Wanda can't quite imagine how that's going to go on certain curse days.

"Peut-être je pense que tu es un homme coureur," Eden replies after him, slightly quieter than normal, because it wouldn't be strange at all to speak across the room in a foreign tongue. Nevertheless, her cheeks show sign of a faint blush. Compliments like these don't come frequently.

But as she looks around the room, waving briefly at Wanda (quelle surprise), her gaze falls upon the little baby, and Eden's nervous expression softens. Not that she's a baby person, not at all, but it's been a while since she's seen one up close and it's a kind reminder that the City doesn't take away all things normal after all.

It also possibly does a fair amount in explaining Donna's personality. Eden's always heard that motherhood drives women insane.

Given that the baby's probably most at peace with its mother, however, Eden takes a glance in the direction of the last stranger in the room. He looks kind of irritated, somehow.

"I'm Eden," she offers with a smile, sitting herself down nearby. Finally, she looks towards Remy. "Orange juice on its own would be rather nice, actually."

"I would probably shank you for a beer, but," Sirja gets a nose-bump again, "so orange juice, if it's cool?"

The truth is that motherhood actually calmed Donna down - significantly - and at the very least made her something less of a danger to herself and anyone in a ten foot radius of her. Considering the aforementioned personality, though, that's probably not a reassuring idea.

Like, at all.

Eden looks a little shy, and Julio looks like he needs broken in gently, so Wanda lucks out and gets a tiny Donna and her tiny baby perched in her lap. Sorry, Wanda.

He flashes a grin at Eden - shameless, hi - and goes to the kitchen to get glasses of everyone's juice and nabs some water bottles on the way. He figures food will be spoken for as needed.

"I suppose bein' a good influence counts for somethin'," he says. Not that he's ever been one. "I'm impressed, I admit. Kindness o'strangers in this place. Reminds me of home, with less shotguns."

This is Southern humor, okay.

There are too many people, he thinks, too close and he's feeling too vulnerable. His insecurities and doubts are being dredged up again, no matter how well he's been hiding him; he's so close to the Scarlet Witch. He doesn't blame her, of course, he can't possibly. It's himself he blames. That doesn't make the evening any easier. And the way Remy is so charming brings out other issues he has, the same kind that bothered him around Jamie or Pietro. Or further back-- even Roberto.

He grabs the glass nearby, with the juice, by the rim with one hand and shoots Remy a tight, uncomfortable face, masked by what are, to begin with, typically slightly dour features.

"Hey, if you're not too busy finding yourself a date, you said there was an empty couch somewhere?"

Wanda makes a soft, playfully faux-annoyed sound when Donna sits on her, flashing a smile over the girl's shoulder Eden's way. Fancy meeting you here, roommate. "I'd hope so, regarding the shotguns," she murmurs, and then her gaze snags on Ric for a few seconds, remembering the slightly odd conversation they had online.

She knows it can't be helping anything, considering he blushed when she was talking to him earlier, so she conscientiously glances back away.

Still, maybe she should talk to him more. On the Network, probably.

Eden rolls her eyes at Remy, noting mentally that the only reason why she's probably interested at all is because this man seems to be the exact opposite of Mohinder Suresh, and that on principle means that this is probably a bad idea. And the further mention of shotguns and Southern hospitality just redirect her mind to Noah Bennet threatening to show up on Tybalt Capulet's doorstep with such a weapon. Her life's been pretty interesting in the past few days, no doubt.

"You're the one who offered me food," Eden points out to Remy, "so I'm not really sure how hospitable I'm being, in all honesty."

There's no real response to be had to Donna sitting herself down on Eden's roommate. That's just. Interesting on various levels.

And okay. Take two at cracking the quiet guy's shell.

"Even if he's finding himself a date, there are still three girls here, which means that odds are in your favor to at least have some interesting conversation?"

Is this just going to scare him further?

"I'm not anybody's date and I only just got here," Donna asserts, helpfully, and then brightly adds, "but I could make the shotgun conversation a whole lot more interesting if y'all want to see my tattoo."

Sirja reaches for Donna's glasses again, and is swiftly prevented. "No, baby, don't do that."

Remy is giving the collection of girls something of a bemused look, but he turns to talk to Julio when he approaches him, respectful of his mood. He knows that his own defense mechanisms - talk more, joke more, flirt more, be more obnoxious - don't work for everybody.

"Yeah, man. Living room's this way. There's another bedroom in here but I don't got anything in it."

He stands from the chair he's been tucked into the entire time, drinking the whole glass of juice before leaving it on the table. He would do the dishes, if he weren't so anxious to get away, but he is. He lingers first and presses his hand against Wanda's shoulder, he's not even sure why (but it feels necessary, like he's offering comfort and forgiveness for his rushing out like this which she doesn't even know she deserves) before giving her and Donna a polite nod, and then Eden, finally bowing his head at the man polite enough to offer him a place to stay when he's very aware there was no obligation.

"Odds are also in my favor that I'm gonna die in a motorcycle accident some day, but I don't keep my hopes up. I rather just find somewhere warm and dark to curl up in 'cause I haven't slept in two days. Thanks, by the way. And night, todos."

He shrugs his shoulders at Eden and throws one last look over his shoulder at Wanda before sneaking out. He'll have to train himself out of running away from her. It's cruel.

once upon a time i was falling in love [ongoing]

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surprise! ...bye :D;

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