(no subject)

[exceptionalcrook]

WHO: Duke Crocker; Seifer; Nick; OTA
WHAT: New roommate, new city, new friends
WHERE: The dorms, Isolated Pawn, and Rick's
WHEN: Dec. 8ish? onward

The Dorms – for Seifer
New dimension, new city, new reality, same old Duke. Sure, he only had himself to blame after jumping into another dimension to save his friend, and he really should know better than to assume anything by this point. Even a screaming neon acid trip of a city staffed by Terminators. Trouble like this – if it was a Trouble – needed research. He needed to regroup, rest, figure out where he stood.

Which sounded a lot harder with a roommate.

Sharing his space has never been his favorite thing to do, and it usually never lasted long. Even living with his wife had gotten frustrating, although hopefully his roommate wouldn't be an Evi type and overly interested in what he was doing. Hopefully he'd be able to make some space for himself, set up comfortably, make a home his castle complete with convenient hiding places.

That's why his disappointment shows on his face when he opens the door. It's tiny, there's not even a closet, and hiding would be almost impossible without scuttling under one of the desks or beds. “Once again I'm thankful I didn't go to college,” he quips, stepping in. “Hi. Duke Crocker. You should know, I sleep in the raw.”


Isolated Pawn – OTA
Duke was pretty sure he'd seen the Dualis employment assignment model in a sci-fi show, which was unsettling but not surprising at all. He half-hoped for something futuristic and glamorous like an internship with Star Fleet, or at least not delivery boy, and is only half-disappointed by his assignment. Pawnbroker? Okay, at least maybe he'd get to work with some sci-fi stuff.

It turns out Isolated Pawn has a significant amount of stuff, both sci-fi and less so. It also has an aging owner who is grateful for the help and encourages him to familiarize himself with everything. His first few days of work find him mostly puttering around the shop taking in the stock, puzzling over power tools for people with tentacle appendages and full-spectrum light artwork, but after that he's behind the counter, a confident man.

“Everything's for sale,” he greets the customer with. “Except Gertie. She stays here.” He gestures to a taxidermied marlin on a stand, a pirate hat on her head at a jaunty angle. “What can I help you with?”


Rick's – for Nick
All the best bars are dives, the girl had said. Professionally speaking he disagrees – the Grey Gull isn't a dive so much as it was an event space, and while his own bar will always be his favorite he immediately likes the atmosphere at Rick's. Dim lights, old pictures hanging on the walls, cigarette smoke in the air, a stage at the back of the room (empty tonight), all wrapped around a lively but small crowd getting comfortably toasted after their work shifts; Rick's felt like the kind of cornerstone old watering hole where an ancient bartender would pour you a domestic beer without asking and explain it was your granddad's usual.

Except the woman behind the counter is too young to pull that off. Too fun, too. He checks his phone – yeah, just a few minutes early – and settles at the bar, waiting for her to come over to him. “Hey,” he smiles when she gets to him. “I'll take two of whatever you like best.”

Comments

Oh my god

[firacrux]

Aqua's sudden disappearance had been bad enough, and Seifer had been foolish enough to think that maybe, just maybe, the city wouldn't rub salt in the wound by replacing her immediately. Not only was he wrong, they sent possibly the world's most annoying roommate possible...

He glanced up from the book he was reading, some bland young adult romance novel he'd grabbed as a joke and was now sucked into the story like a complete loser, expression utterly unimpressed. He stared at the guy for a long while, as if sizing him up to decide if he was going to be worth his time. There was a long, intentionally awkward stretch of silence while he regarded him... Then offered the most bored half-shrug he could muster.

"If you wanna be mistaken for a sausage, be my guest." He thumbed idly toward the strange animal at the foot of his bed. It wasn't large, only about the size of a chihuahua, but that mouth full of small sharp teeth wasn't anything to scoff at.

Granted Eos was about the most friendly and affectionate creature on any world, but newbie here didn't know that.

omg bonus pet

[exceptionalcrook]

Salted wounds are clean wounds, and they heal faster afterwards. This may be a little more like sand in the wound: abrasive to begin with, highly likely to irritate more and more as time goes on.

Duke knows the size-up when he sees it. Roommate's about as friendly as half the people back home, which he can live with. That long awkward silence and half-shrug reminds him of Nathan: too cool for a lowlife like him, intent on staring him down until he goes away. That had never worked.

Not that Nathan had ever had one of -- whatever that was, but even if he had it wouldn't have mattered. "Hey, crocodile-dog thing," he says to Eos, offering her a closed fist to sniff. "You more friendly than your owner there?"

The best kind of roommate!

[firacrux]

And become infectious. Sand is definitely a better analogy for this situation.

Seifer does have that scowling stare down pat, partially because he almost always looks annoyed, but mostly thanks to a long history of military academy. You grow up among hostile wolves you learn to look like the meanest of the bunch. Survival depends on it. He was kind of hoping that the stare down would at least make the guy think about going away.

Might be time to drag a cot out to the forge if this weirdo's going to be sticking around.

And Eos? Well he just has to ruin the tough guy look by hopping up to eagerly sniff the offered hand then proceed to dance in exuberant circles while wagging his nub wildly. He was significantly more friendly than his owner. Seifer tried to not look put out by his dog failing to pretend to be ferocious for just five whole minutes. Darn it.

[exceptionalcrook]

It's coarse and rough and irritating, and it gets everywhere. Definitely the right analogy.

Years ago it might've, and Duke can still sometimes be brought low by the right stare-down. But Seifer wasn't a friend's wife, and at this point in his life a hardened glare from a badass is just Tuesday. For him, survival usually depended on pressing past those glares.

Thank God for the crocodog easing the tension and it acting far more dog than croc. Duke notices the change in Seifer's expression and grins, reaching down to offer scritches. "Yeah, you're a friendly little guy, aren't you?" Unspoken power struggle tipped in his favor, he strokes Eos' snout like he's seen biologists do to crocodiles on the Discovery Channel.

"So," he continues, banking on the idea that Seifer won't kick him if he's petting the crocodog, "you got a name or do you want to keep the stonewalling up?"

[firacrux]

Funny, one would think those glares warning enough that pressing is a good way to get yourself killed. Granted, Seifer was mostly posturing. He was perfectly capable of backing up that posturing, but he preferred to keep his murder sprees to necessity or orders. And right now there wasn't anyone who could give him orders.

Actually that was kind of nice, in retrospect.

Eos responded with barely restrained delight, positively shivering in joy at the nose scratches while making the oddest croaking/gurgling sound. Probably something positive with how much his back-end wiggling just couldn't be contained.

Again Seifer considered him for much longer than was strictly necessary. "Almasy," A beat, remaining just as curt and cautious before: "Seifer Almasy." There you got your name, now go away strange naked-sleeping-man.

[exceptionalcrook]

One would think, but Duke's always been contrary, as Seifer's already noticed. He was also betting on the posturing being for show, a display like a cat raising its hackles or a bear standing on its hind legs. If it hadn't been, well, Duke was unfortunately prepared for that.

He was going to have to find a good place to hide his gun.

At least the dogthing likes him, according to that body language. The croaking/gurgling sound surprises him but he doesn't let his confident front slip for a second. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet a ray of sunshine like you." This he says to Seifer with a bright smile as he continues to give Eos scritches. "And who's this little guy?"

[firacrux]

Seifer certainly could do damage, and take a hell of a lot more than Duke might expect. That being said, assaulting someone for being annoying would be a tad much. He's just trying to get the guy to bugger off and let him read his shitty book.

Try a nondescript case, it's what Seifer does.

The comment just earns a darkened scowl. Hey, he's not the one who introduced himself with no manners. "Eos," A beat. "And before you get any funny ideas you feed him cheese you're cleanin' up the mess."

[exceptionalcrook]

It would be, and Duke knows it. Which is why he hasn't needled Seifer for reading something like that. Whoever was better in a fight, the news headline Mᴀɴ Sʜᴏᴛ Oᴠᴇʀ Rᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ Nᴏᴠᴇʟ would be the stupidest first day imaginable.

Duke's more the "create a few readily available hidey-holes and split your weapons between them" type. Less likelihood of cops finding them in a search, and they're at the ready when you need them.

"No, no cheese. He's a fish fillet guy, aren't you, boy?" With a snout like that, the croaky little creature had to be a fishing species. "What is he, by the way?"

[firacrux]

Oh it'll be even worse, Seifer can go full Slenderman and he does it just to be creepy as hell whenever he feels like it. Mods are a great thing, probably incredibly unwise, but totally cool when you get the right ones. Not lame loser ones like Squall. Two men arrested over romance novel altercation would also be a humiliating headline, however.

True, not a bad way to do it, unfortunately the swordsmen type get really attached to their weapons and aren't likely to leave them laying about where anyone could stumble across them. Besides it took him months to build the damned thing, he's not stuffing it in a sewer!

Hey would you look at that, there's a faint arch of an eyebrow in which one might get the impression that he was very slightly impressed. Only slightly. It'll take more than that to get through that surly wall, but treating his dog well is a good start. "That's right, he eats fish. Preferably not the baked shit that makes him sick too," Eos just wasn't built for processed food. "Dunno, we called 'em crocdogs. Ain't anyone there to give 'em a better name so it stuck." And thus, the crocdog he shall remain.

[exceptionalcrook]

As weird as that would be, it would make Duke feel strangely at home to know his roommate has Slenderman abilities. Ask his opinion on getting those abilities and he might criticize, but if he sees them? Yeah, both weirdly familiar and impressive as hell.

A swordsman can be forgiven for keeping their weapon close by but Duke's from the year 2010 and relies on guns or knives, not swords. And he has never kept a cache of weaponry in a sewer, thank you very much. He's not from Derry.

Duke watches way too many animal documentaries. To his chagrin he also adores Eos, the weird little crocdog was just too adorable. "You like raw fish, buddy? We can get you fish." He rubs approximately where a regular dog's ears would be. "That's their real name? I was just guessing earlier."

[metamorphotic]

All the best bars are dives, in Nick's professional opinion - informed, of course, by the fact that she's only ever worked at dives. Actually, she's only ever felt comfortable in dives; anything too neat and fancy doesn't fit her overall aesthetic. She grew up in a tiny prairie town, just this side of poor, living her teen years in what she could salvage of her father's secondhand clothes. New things typically don't hold the same charm for her as things that are old and worn and already have stories to tell.

New people, on the other hand, can be quite delightful. Nick's been tossed around the multiverse for a few years now, and while she used to hate the grind of adjusting to new neighbors, she's come to see new faces as opportunities, and not just as potential allies in the Heart's war against the Head. People have their own stories to tell, and bartenders get to hear some of the best. She enjoys getting to know people now, in ways she never did in Chicago.

She returns his greeting with a pleased grin and a "Hey yourself," then slides a pair of glasses containing whiskey (neat, of course) in front of Duke. "Glad you could make it. Welcome to Rick's."

[exceptionalcrook]

The experience of a multiverse jump is new to Duke and he can't say he cares for most of it. That's why it was good to see Nick, who was the closest thing he'd found to familiar and fun, and the dive atmosphere drives that home. It's cozy, something he didn't expect to feel in Dualis. Hadn't even felt it at home for a long time.

"Wouldn't have missed it. And by the way, you have excellent taste." A woman who enjoys a whiskey neat is a woman with some brassy class. He takes one of the glasses and sips it, setting a coaster on top of the other. "Mm. Very good taste."

Glancing toward the celebrating officer workers and back, he smiles. "Busy night?"

[metamorphotic]

Duke says he wouldn’t miss this meeting, but Nick has known for a long time that it’s better not to expect something and be weighed down with disappointment if it doesn’t happen. Thank the asshole boys she knew in high school for teaching her that lesson. So she’s pleasantly surprised that Duke not only shows up but early for their date. And secretly? Nick’s happy about that, because she liked talking with Duke at their first meeting. She likes the way there’s a slight flutter to her heartbeat when she sees him smile, and she likes what she’s seen so far of his sense of humor. She’d like to see more, know more, and now she can.

“Well, I’d sure hope so,” she says, with a light chuckle. “I’d like to think I’ve picked up a thing or two with my extensive work experience in the adult beverage industry. Gotta be able to recommend drinks to people when they don’t know what they wanna order, y’know?”

She leans her forearms across the top of the bar, and her gaze follows after Duke’s to the celebrations at the tables tonight. “‘Bout the usual. You know what they say - “Everyone comes to Rick’s.’” She grins widely at her own joke and checks the time on her wristwatch. “And lucky for you, I am off the clock in three minutes. Just gotta finish up a couple things real quick - save me a seat, yeah?”

[exceptionalcrook]

Buddha says the root of all suffering is desire. Duke, who fits the definition of "modern Buddhist," would say there's a lot of wisdom in desiring something and not expecting it, and in that regard Nick is wise. Also flattering; he knows they'd hit it off earlier and he wants to hang out with her, but she'd mentioned something about liking girls and he isn't yet sure if this was an I'm interested in you date or an I'm flirty but just want to be friends meetup. Either way, he meant his invitation. Nick was a quick-witted former teen delinquent with a good sense of humor and the added bonus of being hot as hell -- she was way too good a chance to pass up however things go. At the very least Duke was pretty sure he'd found his new drinking buddy.

"You're truly professional. A woman after my own heart," he says playfully, and tastes another sip of his whiskey. "Rye whiskey?" he guesses, not unschooled himself in adult beverages. "Can't tell what kind. Is it local?" He's been curious about the food supply here, whether it's made up of transported items like the city's made up of transported people, but also it's just a very nice drink for sipping.

"I can see why they say it. Slap a theme song on this bar and you've got the setting for a sitcom." Duke's being genuine, if wry. It is a charming atmosphere. Duke shrugs off his homeless grandpa sweater and lays it across the barstool next to him, giving Nick a cheeky grin. "Seat saved. See you when you're done."

[metamorphotic]

Oh, Nick is definitely interested, and if all goes well, that should be crystal-clear to Duke before the night is over. She’s a little nervous about how this date will go - she hasn’t actually gone on a proper date with someone before, and it’s taken her several years to begin considering the possibility of dating again, after Kennedy. A lot has happened during those years, a lot of personal changes for her, inside and out. But Duke seems like he’ll be worth the risk.

She grins at the compliment and murmurs thanks, nodding to answer his guess about the drink. “You know your booze,” she says, “and yeah, it’s local, called Zhezekai. There’s a distillery up in the north end of town, if you’re interested. They do tours and have a little bar where you can try their stuff. I haven’t been, but I heard it’s pretty cool.”

Nick wipes down a spill on the back end of the bar, something to do to keep from fidgeting nervously. “A theme song, huh? I guess I could take a stab at writin’ one. Can’t guarantee it’d be any good, but ... Rick might enjoy that.”

She shrugs and glances at her watch again. Work time’s up. “See ya in a few,” she confirms, and disappears into the back room. She emerges a few minutes later with a black button-up (cuffs undone) layered over the T-shirt she’d worn for work (also black, of course, with a faded white design for a band), a dark-wash denim jacket and black knit scarf slung over her arm, and her signature deep red lipstick touched up.

“Fancy seeing you here. This seat taken?” she asks, jokingly, when she reaches Duke on the other side of the bar.

[exceptionalcrook]

The thing about a proper date was that it shouldn't be high-pressure, it should just be fun. Duke enjoys setting them up and is pretty sure Nick will enjoy what he's got in mind for the evening, and that's all it needed to be right now: two people having fun. However they ended up, that's enough for this moment. That was the happy little bit of normality Duke wants back after everything he's been through -- the Troubles, his dad's legacy, losing Evi, doing what had to be done, Audrey, the Barn, alien neon city.

It's been a rough year for him. Makes it all the easier to appreciate a beautiful woman with a rebellious streak.

"I too have experience in adult beverages," he admits with a grin in return. "Zhezekai, sounds worth checking out. See, this is why I asked you." He's definitely going to check that out, and will probably invite her to join him if tonight went well.

He raises his glass to her as she heads off, sipping the Zhezekai. When she comes back he smiles at her, taking in the new outfit with aesthetic appreciation for her look and the reassurance that his ideas for the night were probably up Nick's alley. He plays along with her game when she nears the seat, acting scrutinizing for a second. "I was saving it for someone, but why not."

Turning on his seat to face her, he rests an elbow against the bar. "So," he begins, "you're a musician?"

[metamorphotic]

Normality is something Nick’s wondered for years if she would ever find again, and going on a date with a cute, witty guy is a step in that direction. Nick can’t remember the last time she did something fun where the immediate threat of danger wasn’t looming on the horizon, ready to swarm in at any moment. Dualis is dangerous, sure, but not openly, and tonight, Nick is purely herself - not an agent of the Heart, not a Nightbane in hiding, just Nick.

She slides into the saved seat next to Duke and drapes jacket and scarf across her lap, then mirror’s Duke’s posture in facing him while leaning an elbow against the bar. The light in the bar may be dim, but from this closer perspective, it’s easy to feel drawn in by Duke’s eyes, and Nick can’t stop a warm smile from curving across her face.

“I am, actually,” she says with a nod. “Used to sing in a band back in Chicago - also played a mean tambourine. I picked up some guitar and songwriting after the band blew up, took a break for a while, picked it up again with a cowriter when I lived in Omaha ... took another break, then I ended up on a ship with a lot of time on my hands, so I mostly just practiced and wrote some more to keep myself busy and outta trouble. And then I ended up here.” She shrugs. “Less time on my hands, but Rick lets me play here on some of my nights off, so I’m gettin’ plenty of exposure. And I haven’t been booed outta the place yet, so I must be doing OK. Crowds here’re a little nicer than in Chicago.”

She laughs at herself, suddenly aware that she hasn’t been able to take her eyes off Duke this entire time. “What about you? Any hidden talents I should know about?”

[exceptionalcrook]

Normality sneaks in between threats of danger like seeds on the wind and buds in strange places. It had to. If it didn't, the threat of danger became unbearable. Without normality people didn't get to be themselves and forgot who they were protecting. Normality's inevitable no matter where you are. There's comfort in that, Duke thinks. Comfort now.

Also, relief. He'd kind of needed this -- not the ego boost of Nick's interest, or the anticipated fun of their evening, or even her inviting smile. Just knowing he could feel close to someone in this city/dimension/whatever it was made him feel far more human. He'll have to thank her for that. He leans in under the guise of better hearing her, casting a glance over her and lingering on her garnet-painted lips. He's not too sneaky about it.

"So you've been at it for awhile. When do you play?" He wouldn't mind coming back to Rick's and checking out one of her sets. "And what genre? Straight-up punk? Angry girl rock?" Fully recognizing that if Nick played it, any type of song could become angry girl rock. "I bet you're better than just exposure-level. Have you looked into doing shows anywhere else?" Plenty of venues in Dualis offered live music, he knows that after researching for tonight.

"Nothing that impressive," he laughs. "But, in the interests of honesty, I do own a ukulele. Or at least I did. My staff asked me to stop taking it to work."

cw casual allusion to suicide

[metamorphotic]

If Nick knew what Duke was thinking about feeling more human with her, she'd need to confess to feeling the same. It's been difficult to reorient herself since her Becoming; she's accepted her Nightbane identity and recognized that being a monster doesn't make her a bad person unless she chooses to be one, but she still has a sharp awareness of the fact that she isn't entirely human the way that she was before. Doing something this normal makes it easy for Nick to forget about that. Duke makes it easy for her to forget about everything except him - his smile, the way his voice curls warmly in her ears, even his stupidly charming sweater.

"Got a gig on Tuesday - well, not that this is really a gig, just somethin' I do for fun. Livens up the place a bit, y'know? Rick's been good to me, I don't mind givin' back a little. Anyway, I play a mix of things - no punk, through I do love the Clash. Usually it's some Stones, some Bowie, a little bit of the Cure and Joy Division here and there, and then my own stuff, which ... I don't really know how to describe?" She laughs, because a musician should probably be able to describe her own music better. "Kinda sad, I guess? But not in a whiny emo kid way, or a slit-your-wrists depressing way. If it was a full band, it'd probably have a lot of minor-key piano or keyboard parts in it. Could probably call it goth, but not like, stupid goth. I told my - um, this kid I knew, where I was before here, that I was gonna write a whole concept album someday about all the weird shit I've been through, disguise it like fiction. Get my very own Ziggy Stardust-style schtick going. Haven't made a lot of progress on that yet, but I'm gettin' there." She grins and shakes her head. "Haven't really looked into branching out anywhere else. I work a lot, so I don't have a ton of free time. And I always did better when I was just singing and letting the others play the actual music of the songs, but I'm not as good on my own, just me and a guitar. Maybe someday I'll be that good." Maybe someday she won't be fighting for her life against a city run by homicidal AI, or something equally horrible.

"A ukulele, huh?" That draws a wide grin across Nick's face. "Now I think I need to know how you even picked up a ukulele in the first place, 'cause I gotta say - out of all the musicians I've met before now, none of 'em ever played a ukulele." And that's another oddly charming piece to the Duke Crocker puzzle.

Isolated pawn

[final7thheaven]

To be completely honest, Tifa accidentally found herself here today. She'd been trying to find her way back to her bar when she'd taken a turn and ended up here. Once she turned to see the store front, she decided to look around it, just to see what it was.

So, that's the real reason she steps inside today. Simple curiosity. That and maybe a chance to network a little. She's always listening out for important pieces of information.

The unfamiliar voice catches her attention and she glances over. "Oh, I'm just looking around. I was trying to find my own workplace, but I guess I followed the wrong road." It's easier to do that than it should be. "Gertie looks nice. Has she always been there?"

[exceptionalcrook]

Browsing is encouraged, as there's plenty of stuff in the shop that no one would think to look for. Tifa's chance visit is a happy accident from Duke's perspective. "As long as I've been here," he answers honestly. "I think she's the owner's good luck charm." The owner would point to the customers milling around as proof that she "works".

"If you're lost, do you want me to get you a cab?" He doesn't know the city well enough to give directions, but he might not even if he did. Calling a car means Tifa will wait in the shop a little longer and maybe buy something.

[final7thheaven]

She very well could end up buying something anyway. At this point, she's interested enough in the shop to stay for a few minutes. Good thing she's the boss of her bar and it won't matter when she turns up at work.

"Everyone needs a good luck charm." She doesn't really have one, but her mind drifts to Aerith and the White Materia, the prayer that will one day save the world.

"It's all right. I have time to look around. I thought seeing a new location would be better than wandering around and getting more lost." She offers a smile at that. "Is there anything especially interesting here today?"

Pawn shops don't always have the same stock day by day. Tifa is curious if he's seen anything worth note today.

[exceptionalcrook]

That's definitely one of the benefits of being the boss. Duke misses his bar, but the pawn shop is at least a decent replacement. After her query he shrugs. "Sure, lots of things. We have some interesting stock. Is there anything you're looking for? I might have something I can recommend."

Behind him two animated grimoires growl at each other from separate cages. Duke ignores them, apparently used to them. He's not talking about them, it seems, as he disappears behind the counter for a moment and reappears with a beautifully sewn cloak. "Not sure if you're looking for clothes, but if you are, this is pretty intriguing." It's a Cloak of Billowing, and will look super dramatic if it's the sort of thing Tifa would wear.

[final7thheaven]

The cloak immediately reminds her of Vincent and she has to hold back a smile. Maybe he would like it. Maybe Cloud would. Either way, she's tempted to get it.

"Does it do anything special?" she asks curiously. "It looks like something a friend of mine might like."

Maybe. Possibly. She's also so used to shops at home that she thinks there might be a special quality to it. Things like this, equipment, usually have something about them that enhances the wearer in some way. But then again, it might just be a really cool cloak.

[exceptionalcrook]

The cloak costs more than it's really worth but he's going to try to sell it anyway. If he can sell enough merchandise maybe his boss will forgive him for accidentally calling her a cat on his first day, which is apparently very offensive in her culture. (In his defense, he had no idea and she looks exactly like a cat.)

"A little something special. Is your friend the dramatic type? They could get a lot of use out of this." He drapes the cloak over the counter, displaying it. "From what I hear it's enchanted to help you cut a dramatic figure. Do you want to try it on?" All you have to do is want it to billow and it will, which as far as Duke is concerned is the best type of cloak possible. Equipment isn't the same in his world, though: where he's from magical items are few, far between, and usually cursed. Luckily, this one isn't.