Duke Crocker (
betterthanaplan) wrote2019-11-18 05:38 pm
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Entry tags:
The Cape Rouge, Port of Fandom, Monday
Bolstered with caffeine thanks to the Perk, Duke had returned to his boat to see just how much damage his younger self had managed to wreak over the weekend. The place was a wreck, especially the galley, with weapons (that had been toys, which was reassuring and terrifying in equal measure) strewn about wherever wee!Duke had happened to drop them, and a sticky film of grape jelly coating pretty much everything. He'd thankfully been quick enough even as a ten year old to keep the small fire he'd started trying to use the waffle iron contained to a very small space, so that wouldn't take much more than replacing the outlet and maybe resanding part of a cabinet.
And, as predicted, there were five pizzas, two giant cookies, and a rather unholy amount of Pepsi leftover in his fridge. Also, most of a frittata, at least half a serving of beef stew, and several stale and/or smashed cookies. He fed those last items to the porgs, who were all terribly pleased to see him, and set about making the Rouge a proper home again.
He had the door to the deck propped open to air out the smell of small semi-feral boy and to be able to hear if Octavia -- or anyone else -- came around. And, well, if he ended up humming some Violent Femmes under his breath while he did, well. Not everything he remembered from being a kid was a bad memory.
[expecting one, but also open]
And, as predicted, there were five pizzas, two giant cookies, and a rather unholy amount of Pepsi leftover in his fridge. Also, most of a frittata, at least half a serving of beef stew, and several stale and/or smashed cookies. He fed those last items to the porgs, who were all terribly pleased to see him, and set about making the Rouge a proper home again.
He had the door to the deck propped open to air out the smell of small semi-feral boy and to be able to hear if Octavia -- or anyone else -- came around. And, well, if he ended up humming some Violent Femmes under his breath while he did, well. Not everything he remembered from being a kid was a bad memory.
[expecting one, but also open]
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"Guess that makes sense. If they want to call themselves Azgeda, I am definitely in no position to argue."
Even setting aside the part where he would never meet any of them, telling people what to call themselves was rude.
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She had a healthy respect of all the clans, to be honest.
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She looked down her arm, to where his hand was. And noted, softly, "You've run out of tattoo."
It wasn't a complaint.
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Actually she'd thought about asking him if he wanted to, because there was nothing greater than distancing yourself from your own stupidly small wishes as much as possible.
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Well, the ones they'd known about, anyway.
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"Had to be a hell of an adjustment. Even just . . . dealing with weather."
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"My great-grandfather's generation was the last to know Earth before us," Octavia noted softly. "Sunlight, the wind... It was all new for everyone."
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He'd mentioned as much when Jack was still around, too. The whole idea of living in space messed with his head. There wasn't any air out there!
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With her history of captivity, though... Yeah.
"It's not something I really want to go back to, either."
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It was the spot on the island where she could really let go of her sense of place, the way she really couldn't anywhere else, because there was always something reminding her of exactly where she was.
But he'd probably seen how much she'd liked being out on the water, too. The principle was the same.
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And, would you look at that: there was a faint, crooked smirk.
"With or without added target practice."
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She should never have checked how many people lived in just Baltimore.
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Hear that, tiny Duke? It could be a positive sound, too!
"I think I'd like that."
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"I'll make some calls then. In the meantime . . . you have a preferred day for hiking and target practice?"
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