[ DUPLICITY ] inbox

[braveoff]

[ text | voice | video | action ]

Comments

[requiemshark]

[ Sharkface just shrugs. ]

He doesn't care that I paint on the walls.

[ Things balance themselves out, in the end. ]

Cool. I can do the whole wall.

[ Plenty of space to work with, plenty of little nooks and crannies to fill with detail. ]

Don't thinK I'll get to painting today. There's a lot to block out first.

[braveoff]

[ Drake knows that's an acceptable trade to Sharkface, so he just nods and stays quiet. Works on making a sauce for the stir fry instead. It's easier to talk about the mural. ]

Like I said, no rush. I'm not going to complain about seeing more of you.

[ Maybe he shouldn't have said that, but he can't take it back now. Doesn't really want to, anyway. ]

If you tell me what colors you need I can go nuts at the paint store next paycheck.

[requiemshark]

[ Oh. That -

Sharkface hesitates, not sure what to make of that. Where he's supposed to fit in that equation, when he's not the man that Drake knew. They didn't share the things the sketchbook shows. That connection. That care.

But here they are. That matters, doesn't it?

He sets the sketchbook down carefully and begins laying out his pencils and the battered ruler he managed to dig up. Might as well get started. ]

Yeah. Okay. I'll make a list.

[ He hesitates. ]

Thanks. For. This.

[braveoff]

[ It's not quite that simple for Drake. For all he knows, this Sharkface is the same person, just from an earlier point again. They arrived at the same time. Something could have gone wrong in transit.

But even if it is a different version entirely, Drake doesn't think he's capable of treating him differently. At least not at this point, where things are lining up. Where he still feels like he understands this man, can help him. Everyone deserves that, don't they?

He goes still in his cutting up the chicken when Sharkface thanks him. For the work, for something to do, for the supplies, probably. Little things. Easy things.

Drake still smiles at it. ]

...you're welcome. But you're doing me the favor, I hate all the white in here.

[requiemshark]

[ Sharkface glances back toward the kitchen, flashing Drake a small smile. It's not much of one, with his scars, but it's real. ]

White walls bother me. They're too empty.

[braveoff]

[ Drake's never been bothered by the scars. They were just less important than the expression beneath -- if anything they're the sign of something he went through, something he survived. So he likes the smile. It rings true, reaches his good eye.

He nods, then turns back to the meal he's preparing. ]

I feel the same way. My ma always covered the walls in pictures. Knicknacks on every shelf. It doesn't feel like home unless there's something to catch your eye on the wall.

[ The chicken gets added to the pan with another sizzle. ]

I had to keep the walls bare, for work back home. So it never felt like I lived there. But in Hadriel, we had every inch covered. I loved it.

[requiemshark]

Yeah. You can get used to living with nothing but the essentials, but it's -

[ Sharkface hesitates. ]

It's better, when you can fill a space.

[braveoff]

Yeah. Yeah, it is.

[ It feels safer, more comfortable, even if that's not true. It feels like it's yours.

He lets Sharkface work in peace while he cooks, and soon enough the smell of dinner is filling the space -- the rice needs another few minutes by the time he's finished the stir fry so he flicks off the heat on the pan and comes over to look at what Sharkface is sketching on his wall. ​]

That looks amazing already.

[ He smiles, steps in a little closer. ]

Dinner will be done in a couple minutes -- do you want a drink?

[requiemshark]

[ He works in broad strokes first, getting the general shape of the thing down. Making sure the movement is consistent across the entire piece, that one section doesn't overwhelm the others. Later, he'll go in and add the small details. He'll work from the picture, like Drake asked, but already Sharkface can see sections where he'll improvise, or build on the sketch. Make it his own.

Sharkface steps back with a frown, examining his work. ]

Good. It's coming together.

[ It'll be a big project. He's thankful for that. He glances at Drake, expression softening, and nods. ]

Yeah. Thank you.

[braveoff]

[ Drake isn't picky about sticking to the sketch. He'd prefer more color anyway, flowers for sure, since those existed on the jungle planet.

He stands next to Sharkface and just looks at it for a moment, already feeling better about the wall existing in his space. It'll be his, how he wants it, soon enough. ]

Thank you. I've got soda, coffee, or whiskey. Feel free to combine those. Maybe not the coffee and the soda.

[requiemshark]

[ Sharkface hums to himself, rolling his shoulders. Taking it all in. The mural's coming together in pieces. He can see the shape of it now, knows how it'll come together.

It's a good project, he thinks.

Sharkface huffs a little, smiling at Drake. ]

Whiskey would be good.

[braveoff]

Sure.

[ Drake smiles back, then returns to the kitchen and opens a cupboard to pull down two glasses and a bottle. ]

Come sit.

[requiemshark]

[ Sharkface nods, following Drake in. He takes a seat. ]

Met anyone new? Anyone worth knowing?

[braveoff]

Maybe. One woman, she's been here two and a half years, seems to know things inside and out.

[ He pours them drinks and places one in front of Sharkface, going to grab plates and utensils and such while the rice finishes. ]

I've got a couple hits on the ad that I agreed to meet, just to see if we get along. I'm still not looking to rush into a contract but... the quota's a thing.

[requiemshark]

Yeah. The quota's a thing.

[ His tone goes flat for a moment, though he shakes it off and takes a drink. ]

Met a couple people who seem to know their way around. I'll see how it turns.

[braveoff]

[ Drake sets their places at the island where Sharkface is seated, nodding approvingly. ]

Everybody I've met seems to hate it, I figure that's a pretty good sign too. That there's no kool-aid.

Anybody interesting?

[requiemshark]

[ Sharkface hums in agreement. ]

Not sure. Maybe. Some kid named Katie Holt seems to know her way around. And there's a woman named Qi'ra who's built herself some power in the Down. I'll see how it shakes out.

[braveoff]

Sounds like someone worth knowing.

[ Drake checks the rice again and deems it done, flicking off the heat and serving them both before coming around the island to sit next to Sharkface. ]

The woman I met who's been here forever is Raven -- she says she switched designations a couple years ago, but that it almost never happens.

[requiemshark]

[ He hums in agreement, watching Drake. What he says next is interesting. ]

Really. But it is possible?

[ That's worth knowing. ]

How'd that happen?

[braveoff]

She got in with the would-be mayor. I got the impression it was some kind of a stunt or... something.

[requiemshark]

A stunt.

[ Sharkface frowns. ]

But it took? It's real?

[braveoff]

Like a show of power? But I'm just guessing. And it's real, yeah.

[requiemshark]

[ Sharkface nods slowly. ]

Good to know, I guess. I'm still trying to get a handle on this place. All the fucking rules.

[braveoff]

[ Heh. Fucking rules. When they're rules about fucking. It'd be funny if it were intentional but as it is it's just... frustrating. Drake picks up his fork and nods towards Sharkface's plate for him to try dinner. ]

Go ahead. While it's hot.

[requiemshark]

[ Oh. Right. Sharkface glances down at the plate and then back at Drake.

It's fine. It's just food. Only, no one's cooked for him in a long time. Not since Barrows, he thinks.

He twitches and takes his fork. Digs in before he can think too hard about it. ]

Shit. This is good.