Etraya: Inbox

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

TEXT • VOICE • VIDEO • ACTION
USERNAME: HANK

Hank here. I probably don’t give a rat’s ass what you have to say. Leave me alone. How the hell do I get this damn thing to stop rec — [BEEP]

Comments

cn: rabbit hole spiraling

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

Well, y’know what I did to deal with my shit. But like I said — don’t want that for you. Whether or not you can.

[Hank doesn’t want to see Connor testing this hypothesis, either. With alcohol or anything else.

Regardless, Hank’s view on this is very “do as I say, not as I do.”]

We need to get you hobbies. You had much fun since you got here, Connor? [Again with the hypocritical “do as I say” bit, seeing as how Hank knows he has been as jolly as a bag of bricks since he got to Etraya.] Or even just something to get your mind off things. You said you liked cooking, yeah? Stuff like that.

Re: cn: rabbit hole spiraling

[instabilitatem]

[Connor is tempted to test Hank's manner of dulling feelings, even if it could break all his inner components.]

I did enjoy cooking. Rations were scarce in Solmara. It's never something I got to do in Detroit either.

[A beat.]

I've also never tested my ability to drink whiskey.

Re: cn: rabbit hole spiraling

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

Connor...

[Eyes thinned.

Hank sighs.]

I can’t stop you. Not like you couldn’t squirrel some away behind my back. But I’d really rather you didn’t.

You don’t even drink thirium. You — [okay, no, he should not be giving Connor any ideas] — if you gotta try it, promise me you won’t be alone. I don’t want you breaking down ‘cause you’re guzzling this shit.

But you are more than welcome to cook to your heart’s content, Connor. And more stuff like it.

[A thoughtful pause, then:]

What is it about cooking that you like, exactly?

[instabilitatem]

[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.

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

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.

[instabilitatem]

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

What other arts should I explore?

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

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.

[instabilitatem]

[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.]

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

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

Your tie, huh? Somethin’ wrong with it?

[instabilitatem]

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?

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

No, Connor, I was just wondering.

[Hank clears his throat.]

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

[instabilitatem]

[Connor frowns before looking up at Hank again.]

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

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

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.

[instabilitatem]

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.

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

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.

[instabilitatem]

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?

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

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.

[instabilitatem]

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.

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

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?

[instabilitatem]

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

Are there materials enough to try a little of everything?

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

[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.]

[instabilitatem]

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.

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

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.”]

[instabilitatem]

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

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

cn: mention of Cole

[bootyshortsforoldmen]

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?