bootyshortsforoldmen | Etraya: Inbox

[Connor looks up at Hank and the temptation is definitely there. Perhaps just a sip. Just enough to see what is so appealing.]

I'll have a sip with dinner.

[And, considering what he likes about cooking,] I never cooked until I arrived here. It's very colorful. And it's not a science, it's an art. I've never expressed myself in such a way.

A sip, huh? [Hank raises a brow.] You do remember when you poured out all my whiskey, yeah?

[He has the bottle in his bedroom, but maybe Connor doesn’t know about that yet.]

That’s what I like to hear, though, Con. You getting creative — that sounds good for you. You might like other creative sorts of things, too.

That’s the thing: we gotta get you exploring that.

Did Dr. Romano not bring any over? [He's put himself back in the deferential position.]

What other arts should I explore?

Nah. Unless he dropped some off when I wasn’t here.

[He tries to keep the bit about Connor’s friend short. Someday Connor might want to talk about them more, but... right now Hank just imagines it hurts.]

You could write. Draw. Paint. Could indulge in your, y’know — musical inclinations.

How about we take you clothes shopping sometime? [“Shopping” being used loosely here, since everything is free.] You can express yourself that way too. Just like I’ve got my... well. Shirts.

[Connor looks puzzled a moment, considering he'd advised Dr. Romano to bring whiskey. Perhaps he didn't bring it.]

I could stop wearing my tie.

[He pulls the black fabric from the collar of his white shirt.]

[Hank’s jaw drops a little before he smiles.]

Your tie, huh? Somethin’ wrong with it?

I'm trying to express myself. [Connor looks down at the tie in his hand and then back up to Hank.]

Is there something wrong without it?

No, Connor, I was just wondering.

[Hank clears his throat.]

How do you, uh — feel without it, then? Good?

[Connor frowns before looking up at Hank again.]

I feel the same. It wasn't obstructing any of my abilities.

Yeah? Well. [Hank tries to give him a look-over, eyes darting down and back up, although not much has changed.] You look good, Connor.

Not that you looked bad with the tie, but — y’know what I mean.

Thanks, Hank. [And there's a hint of that smile. Connor still doesn't feel his best, but he's trying to recover.]

I think I may stay with cooking for now.

Glad to hear it, Connor.

[That smile...! Fleeting, perhaps. But one step at a time.

One day at a time.]

And I don’t just mean that ‘cause I get to eat what you cook. [Although it’s a nice bonus.] It’s nice to see you... getting all creative. Enjoying things.

I believe we have steak and eggs in fridge. I have a recipe for that.

[Connor won't eat any of it, but he likes plating the meal, presenting colors.

Maybe art would be the next step.]

Have you seen art supplies in Etraya?

Sounds good, Connor.

[When isn’t Hank up for eggs? Steak?!]

Maybe even ol’ Sumo can get a bite of steak.

[The dog raises his head at the sound of his name — and steak! — but only slightly. Perhaps not interested unless there are smells to go along with the words.]

Haven’t seen art supplies, no, but I’m sure the store’s got ‘em. Is there anything particular you’re interested in? We can check it out sometime.

Sumo is welcome to have some steak.

[Connor sees Sumo perk up and there's that smile peeking out of the storm clouds again.]

I'm not sure. I've never tried anything artistic.

Careful there, Connor. Might think you’re just here to spoil Sumo.

[Hank meets Connor’s soft smile with his own. Looking down at his lap as he thinks.]

Well, you got that whole room now. Why not get a little of everything?

[And with that, Connor's small smile blossoms into a full smile.]

Are there materials enough to try a little of everything?

[Hank could never match Connor’s smile, really, but something inside him insists on trying.]

Don’t worry about it. If the store doesn’t have something you want, I’ll figure it out. I’m all resourceful like that.

[He’s not. But for Connor, he’ll make it work. Pull some strings. Beg for favors. That sort of thing.]

I like it when you smile like that, Hank.

[Connor likes it best when they both smile, when they both seem to be enjoying themselves.]

It doesn't need to be a pull on resources. I wouldn't want Etraya to become another Solmara.

Yeah? [Hank looks away. Covers his smile with his hand for a second before dropping it. It’s embarrassing.]

Not a burden, or anything like that. We just need to find where stuff is. And if you want, I dunno... watercolors, and the store doesn’t have it, I’m sure someone might know how to make them. Can’t be that hard, yeah? Mixing pigments, and all that.

[He knows nothing about watercolors other than “water” and “colors.”]

[Connor's smile widens as he watches Hank.]

I think paper and pencil would be a better place to start. Maybe some basic paint.

Simple enough. [Paper? Pencil?? Hank can do that.

Probably.

But paint might require some manner of specialized paper. Canvas?? Cole used to do his little fingerprinting on printer paper.]

We’ll get you whatever you need, Connor. I could pop out while you’re working on dinner. How's that sound?

Be careful. [ Connor is distinctly aware of how disliked both of them are. He stands from the couch to start searching the fridge for the steak.]

I will. [Hank still has Catdog’s gun, too. Not that he’s taking it with him, nor does he have any intention of using it, but... he has it.

He’s never been a very well liked guy here, anyway. Now everyone's got an actual reason to hate him beyond “there’s that drunk asshole.”

The trip to the store isn’t actually quick, and the selection isn’t great. Not that Hank knows what he’s looking for, really, but not this: a couple of notebooks with obnoxiously shiny covers. Gel pens in a bunch of different colors!! Okay, that takes Hank back.

...And that’s it. Along with some oddly scented pencils and a set of erasers shaped as an assortment of animals, that’s about all Hank finds. Which is disappointing, but he figured as much.

His ride back on the trolley seems shorter, somehow. Probably because he feels like a disappointment. But regardless! He got Connor gel pens!

When Hank gets back to the apartment, he sets the bag on the coffee table.

Sumo is patiently awaiting by his bowl for his very much deserved steak!!]

[Connor takes the time to not only to cook, but to think through his situation. He's now enemy number one for quite a few people and, while not extraordinarily well liked in Detroit, it's not the scrappy friendships that are built when one is trying to survive.

Ithaqua would likely kill him on sight.

Robert hates him.

And Catdog is probably the most regrettable of the losses. They were sort of partners in crime, with Connor providing him with rations whenever possible.

Now it's all gone.

Hank may be his only friend left in the city.

And for a brand new person with feelings and thoughts of his own, it's akin to scrambling around for someone to grab while drowning. He doesn't want Hank to drown with him.

As Hank returns, Connor is cutting a piece of the steak for Sumo, depositing it in the bowl, before plating Hank's dinner. It's a simple set up: ribeye with buttered asparagus, mashed potatoes, and something new he's learned: chimchurri. The whole plate is bright, the colors balanced, and hopefully tasty.]

Food's ready. [And then Connor settles in the seat across from Hank's.]

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cn: mention of Cole

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I asked the mods, and Hank can get better stuff from Aurora 😎 heh heh

perf