The Station, Season 2

[sanitysfall]

[10:19 AM] Sei Bae: Twelve hours. That's how long it took the officials at the "Welcoming Center" to finally eject Nick from the building. They probably shouldn't have tried so hard to convince a man, who was more than happy to be incredibly pedantic, that their ways were perfectly within the legal range of action. With his personal background and upbringing coupled with his choice of occupation, convincing the man that kidnapping him and then essentially prostituting him for entertainment was acceptable was doomed from the start. The only thing that helped him "see reason" was that Nick didn't personally care about where he ended up or why. His career as a cop was as much a matter of whim as his rockabilly fashion and perfectly arranged pompadour.

Of course that didn't mean he wasn't going to give these intergalactic criminal pricks as big a runaround as possible.

Twelve hours after awakening from his curiously unconscious state and being run through a bureaucratic ringer, the tall, lean detective tugged his leather jacket on, tapped a matchstick out of the box in one of his pockets, and placed it between his teeth, rolling it side to side with his tongue as he looked up at the streets and buildings that reminded him all too much of a cleaned up Bladerunner or Ghost in the Shell movie. Wrinkling his nose at a large neon pink flashing light advertising nude dancers, Nick scuffed his heavy boot on the ground, judging the material beneath and around him, reaching out with his mind. Too far away from Earth, he mused, snorting softly to himself in irritation before patting his pockets, checking for anything his gaolers may have relieved him of.

No guns. Still had his badge. Matchbox ( odd, he mused ), and switchblade comb. Pomade ( nice ) and hair oil. The bent and taped up, coffee-stained manila folder with his information on the case he'd been working. Cellphone, but they gave him a new communication device with preinstalled apps that would function on the station, so that was fine either way. He was grateful he didn't have to give up his downloaded music. Looked like other than his two guns and his pocketknife he was left with all his personal articles. Could have been worse, he supposed. Not that he could have planned for being abducted be extraterrestrial people and forced to play some weird sex game...No one back home would ever believe him.

"Shit," he mumbled, realizing he would miss his date with Detective Emberlight. Ah well, not like he was going to miss anything; evidently he'd get plenty of action in his new situation and didn't even need to navigate the social awkwardness to get there. Everyone being there for the same reason really uncomplicated things, he chuckled to himself, shaking his head and turning to walk towards the apartment block he was directed to for his assigned living.

Sei Bae: "Everyone in your building except the people on the penthouse floor are new, just like you," he'd been told. People all abducted around the same time, was what they meant. Not that they would say it so directly. He wondered if there would be anyone from his world; the odds of there being anyone he knew was astronomically low and not worth wondering about, but someone from his own world might be a good way to orient himself. That, and really he needed a shower and wanted to see the place they'd allotted him. Surely it had to be better than living out of motels like he had for the last six months since the Nockfell case crossed his desk? Thank goodness he didn't have to think about that anymore!

[1:38 PM] Lemonest: Skepticism had ceased being a thing in his purview a long time ago. Being tailed by a demon and learning your math teacher is feeding kids human bologna kind of does that to a kid, even before actually encountering ghosts and extraplanar travel. So when he somehow finds himself, after who knows how long of existing alone in the dark with no point of reference for...well, literally anything, he doesn't really bother to get his bearings upon being plopped down in a clean, shiny room full of sleek technology that looked more at home in a video game than anywhere he'd ever been.

He's brought up to speed in short order, and he doesn't actually say anything. This can't be real. He's wandered into some fucked up alternate reality, like he knew the other dead could. Nevermind that he feels alarmingly tangible. And like he needs a shave.

He wanders out into the eerily clean city with his hands in the pockets of the jeans that he's pretty fucking sure he'd died in, though they're not dirty and the only tears in them are the ones in the knees and the torn belt loop at his hip. It's all so fucking surreal. He can barely grasp it in any logical way.

At least the cult can't follow me here, he thinks numbly, only really grasping the idea on the most surface level. The rest of him is so numb, on the emotional level. He's not processing any of it.

They'd given him a new phone, as he'd arrived only with the clothes on his back, and had told him that it would track his "progress", allow him to communicate with the station's network, and be able to get around the neighborhood, such as it is. What he walks in on when he finds the right apartment is a tiny studio, barely enough room to even call it a living space. He'd be able to upgrade eventually, he'd learned, but...what's the point?

So he settles in, back against the wall and arms around his knees, staring into space. He'd have to do something eventually, but for now? He needed a little while to himself.

It takes him some time to be able to will himself to look through the social feed of the city. People saying hello, demanding answers, even propositioning people to start working on their Cards right away. His avatar blinks online next to the feed of them, his tired face accompanying such a huge variety of them that he can imagine it won't be all that hard to find people interested in the things he needs to do. Though, he gets the impression that he doesn't actually need to do them, since the goal of completing them is housing upgrades, amenities, and eventually the ability to go home. But he doesn't have a home to go to anymore.

[4:48 PM] Sei Bae: Better than a motel, he decided with a nod, tossing himself onto the bed and stretching out with a groan. Freshly showered, his hair perfectly styled and just a towel around his hips, Nick tapped around on his new device, familiarizing himself with as much as he could before taking a peek at what ( and who ) the place had to offer.

Sure he was pissed that they had abducted him, but if they'd just asked he would have come along anyways, so he couldn't really stay mad, and if they could provide some evidence that he'd been there and not just dodging duty, if he ever went home he'd probably have a job to go back to. Or at the very least maybe he'd stay in this strange place long enough for everyone that remembered him to be dead and he'd just come back and work his way up again under a new name? The possibilities were endless, really.

Doubly so, judging by the long list of people inhabiting the station. He did feel for the people who were genuinely frightened and displaced, and wondered if there were more sinister things at work than first glance offered. Maybe he'd start some trouble later and see what it was really all about, but for now, maybe he'd contact a cutie for the night and see where things we--....

...

....

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Nick growled, sitting bolt upright in the bed, all of his casual slouching and relaxation evaporating. It was that fucking kid! "No fucking way," he hissed, rolling out of the bed and stomping across the studio apartment to rummage through his belongings, pulling out the crumpled file. Flipping through the pages and names, he stopped on a sheet with a photo pinned to it, holding his phone up to compare the faces.

"No. Fucking. Way." Nick coughed a disbelieving laugh, utterly flummoxed by the scenario. He was used to a lot of wild, weird shit, but the sheer impossibility of such a massive coincidence? Nah. And yet...

[ Hey there cutie! You new here? Want to just get something to eat? No strings. ]

Sending the text along and waiting for a response, Nick moved around the room, pulling his clothes back on with a low grumble. It wasn't the first time he'd baited someone and wouldn't be the last. This was just the first time he'd baited a perp he didn't have the facilities to arrest.

Without even being entirely sure of what he was doing, Nick left his apartment behind and headed out into the street in search of a nonthreatening eatery to invite the guy to. May as well do what he could of his job before dropping the whole thing entirely. Maybe a little closure would make him feel less guilty about inadvertantly quitting his job via absence?

[5:10 PM] Lemonest: Larry had finally willed himself to drop the phone (after spending time poking at it just to figure out what all it could do and being actually impressed that he could even find music and videos and stuff on it, like a computer but in the palm of his hand) and go actually take a shower, finding that he needed one more than he'd initially realized. He'd literally come back from the dead, after all, and he's still getting used to actually having all of his faculties in order again. He'd realized as soon as he'd stepped into the little shower stall that holy fuck he'd missed the feeling, and he'd just been leaning against the wall, eyes closed and ears ringing as he tried to take stock of everything that was happening to him. He didn't even know the half of it yet.

He heads back out into the room to see a message blinking on his phone, and his heart seizes in a spike of panic. Oh fuck, he actually has to do something now? Should he ignore it? Could he ignore it?

.....fuck it.

[ don't call me cutie.

is there normal food here? not space food? i need greasy diner food.

find me hashbrowns.

then try calling me cute.]

Surly as can be expected, really, but at the very least, he can take the time to clean up, shave down to a more appropriate bit of scruff around his chin, and brush the snarls out of his hair before it dries. That way by the time he actually finds the person matching the photo (what even is that hair? Rockabilly chic isn't really in his wheelhouse) he might actually look presentable. A glance in the mirror tells him he actually doesn't look half bad. About like he'd looked before he'd died, actually.

Time to not think about that, before he started thinking about everything else...

So now he's wandering outside the apartment, pacing with one hand in his pocket and the other with the phone held up and scrolling.

[8:39 PM] Sei Bae: "Fair enough," Nick murmured to himself as he read the replies, then started walking up and down the block in search of precisely what was asked of him for no other reason than it actually sounded pretty fucking good. Once he figured out where such a place was, he shot Larry a message with directions, then went to lean against the front of the diner, a thumb hooked in one of his jean pockets, index finger tapping a quiet staccato against his thigh. His pointed-toe motorcycle boots were polished but well worn in, the buckles scuffed but bright, his clean, starched jeans were tight in all the right places with the cuffs rolled up away from the boots, and under his beaten but loved leather jacket was a tight white shirt that showed off a fit form.

When Larry came within a few doors of the diner, Nick looked up as if sensing him, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, matchstick between his lips instead of any offensive tobacco product. He grinned slowly, pushing himself away from the storefront and flashing teeth that were perhaps a little too big and sharp to look purely friendly. His body was buff in a lean and wiry way, his face angular with a bit of dark stubble, and he had a bit of a slouch that was less about bad posture and more about a natural inclination to being incredibly socially relaxed.

"They got hashbrowns, cutie," he drawled with a vague Jersey accent, cocking a curved black brow with a smirk, thumbing over his shoulder at the diner.

[11:40 AM] Lemonest: Where Nick had apparently made some effort to make himself look good, Larry is dressed in his norm, a metal logo t-shirt and loose fitting jeans that sagged a bit on his narrow hips, the cuffs rolled up away from the heels of his sneakers. He's built with the kind of muscle that comes from consistent physical labor and carries it in the kind of slouch that comes naturally to a certain kind of guy, the kind that tends to make himself as inconspicuous as possible out of social anxiety and trying not to tower over friends.

The smile Nick turns on him makes a chill slip down his back; people generally don't grin at him, period. So he shifts foot to foot, putting his phone away and tucking his ridiculously long hair back behind his ear, eyes down on the ground. Definitely more than a little nervous about this, and bad at hiding it.

"Yeah, don't call me that," he replies, already heading into the diner that, for all intents and purposes, looks like a very standard greasy diner. He's not sure if that's weird or comforting. Maybe both.

[12:15 PM] Sei Bae: "Why not? We ain't hookin' up. It's just a meal and a chat. No offense, but I ain't interested in you like that. Right now, anyways. My interest in you is company for a meal and talk. Heard from the station powers on high, whoever they are, that you're from Terra, aka Earth." Not entirely true, but there wasn't really ay way to check the validity of the statement.

"Figured we could chat and commiserate," he mused with a shrug, wandering in behind Larry, following him to a booth and placing an order for what looked like the closest thing to a great American breakfast, complete with eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and a couple pancakes. That with some coffee and he was content that surviving in the place would be easy as literal fuck.

[12:43 PM] Lemonest: Larry regards him with narrowed eyes. Why would they tell anyone else where he was from? They didn't tell him where anyone else was from... He doesn't like this.

But then, he considers by the guy's reaction, that he was from Earth too. The accent is familiar; his best friend was from Jersey, he knew it well enough to recognize it from someone else. It's not really comforting, given that this guy is a stranger even if he's from the same planet. But finding and hooking up with strangers is the name of the game, almost literally. Nick says he's not looking for that yet, but Larry can't help being on edge.

"Commiserate," he repeats, taking the coffee as soon as it appears almost preternaturally fast. Hell of a server... "Wouldn't that usually be reserved for old friends and colleagues? Pretty sure we aren't either, dude." The 90s Surfer is creeping into his accent more and more as he talks.

[8:33 PM] Sei Bae: "Fair enough, fair enough," Nick replied, raising both hands in a friendly surrender, leaning back in his seat. Reaching to dab his lips with a napkin after politely chewing and swallowing, he took a second to sip his coffee (black, of course), then arched a brow at Larry.

"Gotta make friends in a place like this, though. Well, I mean, I suppose there's plenty of people that come here perfectly content to bump uglies with any Tom, Dick, or Harry, but I prefer to get to know people at least a little. Like names and buying them dinner...or a late lunch," he remarked, smirking with a small shrug, eventually reaching across the table with a long-fingered, work-rough hand bearing a few heavy rings.

"Nicolas Leeds, but most people call me Jersey."

[5:26 AM] Lemonest: Larry's fingers stay fastened around the mug of coffee, fingers hooked into the handle of it as he regards Nick, head at a tilt and eyes still narrowed. Maybe he'll feel better about all this when he's had more of a chance to really sit and absorb and learn more about this place than what's on the surface. The back of his mind bemoans what his mom would think if she knew he was in a place like this.

"Larry," he murmurs as he finally lets go of his coffee and grasps the hand firmly in his own perpetually paint-stained, work-calloused one.

[6:00 AM] Sei Bae: "Nice to meetcha, Larry," Nick replies with a firm but gentle shake and sincere tone. Leaning back again, he nibbles at a piece of bacon, watching the younger ( who is he kidding, most people are younger than him ) man, eyes behind his sunglasses surreptitiously roaming Larry's face.

He'd never been wrong about a perp before, and he really didn't feel that this kid was a murderer. Involved in everything maybe, but a perpetrator? Then again where had the kid been all this time? He sighed softly swiveling his head to look out the window.

"Fuck it," he mumbled loud enough to be heard, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the folded manila file and tossing it between them on the table.

"Kinda no point in subterfuge under these circumstances, and in the interest of transparency and maybe genuinely making a friend from the same world, here you go. I'm Detective Nick Leeds. And before this happened, I was tracking you down as part of an investigation into Nockfell. There y'go," he hummed, nodding that Larry was welcome to look if he wanted. For his part, he settled into his food more seriously, relaxed by the truth.

[7:11 AM] Lemonest: The fuck it made Larry stiffen up, like he was expecting to be propositioned as Nick gave up on the nice guy act in favor of the sexual end of the arrangement. What he gets, though, is the exact opposite.

Reaching across the table, Larry gingerly flips open the file. A few scanned photos of himself and his friends, locations around Nockfell, one of the front of the apartments that breaks his heart. It shows on his face how distressed he is to see it.

"Why?" he asks quietly, looking back at Nick once more. "Trying to get on my good side with shitty revelations? What were you even doing? Are you actually human?" A relevant question, as Nick will no doubt realize depending on how far his investigation had gotten. The cult had replaced so many important people in Nockfell with things that were only mostly human, that it had become a legitimate concern whether they could trust such a thing.

[7:30 AM] Sei Bae: He paused at the question, lips parted in an expression of genuinely being caught off guard. It evaporated quickly as he internally chided himself. Why shouldn't he expect to be asked? And in the interest of being completely honest again ( not that he'd promised anything, but he felt somewhat obliged ) he shook his head.

"Human parents, but not human, no," he answered, taking his sunglasses off ( thank goodness, he hated wearing them indoors ) and hanging them on his jacket breast pocket. While striking, and perhaps even pretty if one were inclined to the unusual, Nick's eyes were a bright yellow, more like wolves and cats than anything remotely human.

"But not related to anything in Nockfell," he added as an aside. "They send guys like me in when something truly unnatural happens. Granted it's usually just trivial things like witches and haunts, not extraterrestrial demon-worshipping cannibal cults," he mused, shrugging slightly and setting into his pile of hashbrowns, once he'd thoroughly saturated it with ketchup. Totally relaxed and casual about the conversation, not tensed for aggression or a chase; Jersey was a confident guy that didn't feel the need to be pushy or accusatory. Larry could talk or eat. As far as Nick was concerned, his obligation to the case ended when he woke up lightyears away from anyone to report to.

"As for why...honestly, at this point, just closure, I suppose," he shrugged. "I've been on this case with a few others for a while now. Everyone had their task and mine was finding you for questioning. Which wasn't easy, obviously."

[7:59 AM] Lemonest: Larry sat back, collapsing bonelessly in his booth as he frowns deeply at the information. He can't even claim to be surprised about outside investigation; it's not like the Devourers could keep everything internal. Not when Sal's case had gone up to the county court where there were ostensibly uninvolved parties around to witness. He looks down at his breakfast, then huffs a hard sigh and grabs the fork to start breaking open his eggs and mixing his hashbrown with the yolks before shoveling it into his mouth like a man starved.

He doesn't talk with his mouth full, his mother had raised him better than that. But he does look back at Jersey as he slowly chews on his too-large bite.

Eventually he swallows and says, "You found me. So what happens now?"

[8:14 AM] Sei Bae: "Hell if I know, didn't exactly expect to get abducted by aliens and put in some kind of porn Big Brother," he grunted, sipping his coffee a moment. Thank goodness there were relatively normal things available to them.

"Tell me your side of the story, tell me you weren't part of the cult and didn't murder anyone and I'll believe you and we can move on to just being two guys stuck in a patently fantastical situation that we can now navigate with a little genuine commiserating between two out-of-place Earth boys. Get everything off your chest to a cop that can't arrest you."
[8:43 AM] Lemonest: Larry doesn't actually get the Big Brother reference, having died before it ever happened, but he gets the sentiment.

Thinking on it, and with Nick's prompting, Larry goes back to his coffee, fingers tapping idly on the mug. How much should he trust this guy with? What could he even do with it in the position they're in? As far as he knows, they're in a completely separate reality from the one they'd left behind. He doesn't even know if that's a good or bad thing. He's not dead anymore, at least as far as he can tell, so that's....something.

"Well...fuck, ok, for starters you probably never found me before because I died in '99. No idea where they put my body, it wasn't in the graveyard as far as I know. Haunted my treehouse for a long time though."
[8:49 AM] Sei Bae: "That's not a problem," he remarks with a shrug, inspecting his eggs before putting a little ketchup on them as well, fork scraping quietly as he eats.

"I arrest the deceased, too. If you were involved and still haunting, I'd take in your incorporeal spirit and there's a whole different processing procedure and court for that. But still doable," he explains matter-of-factly, looking up with those bright eyes and what was quickly becoming obvious as a signature smirk.

"Not human, remember. They send me for the weird shit. Your situation certainly qualifies."

[8:57 AM] Lemonest: "Ok granted but it's not like they would have tried to make that easy for you, I could have told you all kinds of awful shit if you actually made it there and were able to talk to me. The ritual that was happening ate everyone else!" His voice raises just a little bit as he gestures toward the window, as if toward home or just elsewhere at large. "I spent I don't know how fucking long alone surrounded by all of this shit and then it just kept getting worse."

He looks Nick in the eyes, pushing down on the thought that everyone he knows has really great eyes and he wouldn't mind trying to put these ones down on canvas.... but this isn't really the time for it. He doesn't have supplies for that. Aside from the bracelet that served as his connection to the rest of the station, he was at square one.

...maybe he could do something simple and set up his art again no wait we're not getting into the weirdass voyeurism shit-

"Yeah I guess. This still just...sucks, man. This sucks."

[9:24 AM] Sei Bae: "Could be worse," he remarks, pointing lightly with his fork. He loses his train of thought for a moment, catching Larry looking at his face a little too intently, prompting a broad smirk before he starts up again.

"You could still be back there, still be dead, still be threatened by the cult and their doings. At least appreciate the breather for what it is. Life back there, or unlife, as it were, was chaotic shit. I can't offer any comfort regarding what you went through and your friends, but I can say it is being investigated and will be solved. Ideally it'll work out. But you can't do anything stuck here so rather than let is crush you, embrace the suck, I guess."
[9:30 AM] Lemonest: "It's not like there's anyone back there waiting for me," he mutters, going back to his plate of breakfast and working his way through the pancakes he'd soaked in syrup. Nick's report would list the casualties almost certainly, including every Addison Apartments resident. Literally everyone in Larry's family was gone. All of his friends were gone. Maybe the people Nick was with could help Ashley but outside of that, what was the point in trying to go back?

"Embrace the suck." He scoffs quietly at that, then forks more of his food into his mouth. "Fine, alright. Let's just be hedonists."
[9:51 AM] Sei Bae: "I intend to be," he replies with a chuckle and shrug. "No reason not to," he muses as he sips his coffee again, refilled by a passing, scantily clad server.

"Don't be so glum, kid. You went through some gruesome shit, but there are people trying to fix what can be. And we've got good cops, priests, and therapists on this. Rounding everyone up, getting to the bottom of it, and making up for what we can. Death ain't the end, and those people overreached. We'll put 'em down. Or, well...the rest of the force will. I'm pretty hands tied at this point."

[10:32 AM] Lemonest: "You gonna follow me around or something?" Larry scoffs before finishing off his coffee. He feels vaguely that he should be trying to enjoy this a little more than he is, after so long of not feeling or being able to use his senses at all. Maybe he'll be able to get into it when things have calmed down and he's figured out what he actually wants. "Will they protect Ash? If she's still around I want to know that she'll be safe. And if they can help Todd, he can help them in return. He's the smartest out of all of us, he'll know what to do. Hell, maybe he'll join you guys if he's still got his shit together."

[11:23 AM] Sei Bae: "Ideally they'll get back the lost souls they can, everyone effected but still alive will get treatment, and any wrongful death will be rectified. And we're always looking to recruit so yeah, pal. If he's got the stuff, once they sort him out he'd be a candidate, for sure," Nick nods, his perpetual smirk softening a bit as Larry interacts more on his own.

"Forgetting about this," he adds, reaching out to close the file and slide it away, "Let's start over. Let's talk about Larry and subtract the ugly parts. Hm?"

[11:35 AM] Lemonest: Part of him wants to ask that he be able to keep the file, to be able to look through it himself and see what the guy's got on him and what he might know about their situation before...whatever this is that happened. Maybe he can ask later, if he gets on this guy's good side.

"Fine, what do you wanna know?" he asks, working through the last of his food as the tension at least starts to ease.

[11:43 AM] Sei Bae: "Whatever you wanna tell," he shrugs with that same disarmingly warm smile as he wipes his hands with a napkin, the crosses his arms and leans back comfortably in his side of the booth.

"For all intent and purpose, a lot of encounters in this place are pretty much blind dates, so let's pretend we got set up by some friends as a bit of a laugh, but we're here now so we may as well talk. What's your opinion on global warming?" He grins, cocking his head slightly to the side.

[11:55 AM] Lemonest: Larry's eyebrow arched, but he once more huffed quietly, a small laugh over the question. "It exists and we're fucking up the planet without a plan to unfuck it." He knows the basics; it's hard being what is widely considered a millennial without knowing anything about it. He crosses his arms on top of the table, leaning forward on his elbows. "What kinda music are you into?" he asks, figuring they could keep the smalltalk going in a direction that's easy to follow.

[12:05 PM] Sei Bae: "Lots of stuff, but I've always been pretty fond of 50's stuff. It was a decent time for me," he remarks, thinking for a moment before adding "But I dig a lot of rock, metal, and punk stuff. I suppose in I to anything kind of anarchist or rebellious in design. Maybe a little stereotypical, but you like what you like," he shrugs, tongue sliding across his bottom lip a moment. Patting his pockets, he withdraws his matchbox and places another match between his lips, rolling it to the side, indicating his unconscious oral fixation.

"What about you? You got anything you can't live without?"

[6:38 PM] Lemonest: "Yeah man, like whatever you want, it doesn't matter if it's a stereotype. I've been listening to metal and the stuff in its orbit for years now. Favorite's been Sanity's Fall since I was in like middle school." At that he picks up and thumbs through his phone, once again privately marveling at its ability to smoothly scroll through options until he's gotten to the music player, where he'd promptly spent a small amount of his early stipend to get as many songs as he could find from the band. He turns it over to let Nick take a listen.

[6:42 PM] Sei Bae: Politely interested without any pretending, Nick shifts in his seat and leans forward, tilting his head to listen, slowly getting into it, bobbing his head with a crooked smile, a finger tapping a quiet staccato on the table.

"That's pretty good stuff, actually. I'd like to listen to it on something a little bigger and bassier than a phone sometime. Not a proposition or anything, just literally want to do normal things between all this rabid boning I'm evidently expected to do," he laughs in spite of it all, shaking his head in disbelief.

"What a weird kind of vacation."

[6:49 PM] Lemonest: Larry looks a little animated as he nods about that, finally cracking a smile. Clearly this is something that matters to him, and makes him genuinely happy. "Hell yeah dude, a big speaker with decent bass really makes a huge difference. When I can get more space that's the first thing I wanna put in."

He wrinkles his nose some and sits back again, laying his phone aside. "Man, I still don't know where to even fuckin' start with all this. I barely messed around before shit happened back home and now there's..." He pulls up the display on the weirdly video game like HUD they've got for him, and apparently everyone else, scanning over the suspiciously bingo card looking to-do list. "All this weird shit. I mean some of it's easy enough, but I'm not even gonna touch 'blades' or 'bondage' or....what the fuck is 'edging'?"

[7:28 PM] Sei Bae: "Oh, don't be so prudish," Jersey remarks with a joking tone and unnecessary wink. At the question, though, he purses his lips in thought, considering that Larry is young, and inexperience is an unfair position for anyone to be stuck in, in a place like the station.

"That's when you get up to the point of orgasm, but don't, and let the body chill out before doing it again. Kind of indefinitely riding that razor's edge and never coming. It's pretty alright when you're looking forward to a long evening in and want to be really exhausted and satisfied afterward. But it can run a little long and not really be as satisfying as like, actual orgasm denial. Because when you can't come, and then finally get to? That's more like a big boom instead of sparklers, if you use fireworks for analogy."

[7:34 PM] Lemonest: He blinks then just stares over that explanation. He sort of gets it, and he can even kind of understand why it might be really sexy. (He can imagine doing that kind of thing with a couple of people, actually.) It's still a weird thought, and he'd have to actually find someone he trusts and likes their company enough to do that though. Apparently there's a lot of people here so...maybe?

"Oooohkay, still not sure about a lot of things. Guess I should start looking up some of the important stuff. Don't wanna go in blind, right?"

[7:36 PM] Sei Bae: "You can ask me. I'll be less clinical, more realistic, and I won't judge the fact you don't know anything," he offers, leaning forward on one arm, the other one propping his chin up.

"If you go home and just start Googling shit, you're gonna freak yourself out. Kind of like looking for your symptoms on WebMD and deciding you don't have the flu, you've got Ebola."

[7:40 PM] Lemonest: "Mom always said just ask a doctor, they actually know stuff and won't immediately tell you you're dying of lupus."

With a small shrug, Larry leans back, arms crossed. Should they talk about this out here in public? Sure it's common knowledge here that they're all gonna be boinking nonstop but personally, he'd rather keep it behind closed doors. Which makes that 'public' square all the more nervewracking.

"Fine, teach me shit."

[7:52 PM] Sei Bae: "You got it, man," he huffs a laugh, raising a hand and waving the server over, placing an order for a large fry (or at least what sounded like fries) and some soda, planning on being there for a little while.

"What do you wanna know about? What are some things you don't know about? You wanna see my list, see if there's anything on there different from yours that you need to know?" he asks, tapping his own phone and swiping, sending the list to Larry with as little inhibition as one could ever hope to aspire to.

[7:54 PM] Lemonest: "Whoa whoa whoa." Larry holds up a hand and calls after the server to make that a to-go order, fixing Nick with another look. "Not here. I'm not gonna sit in a diner and eat fries while discussing the best method for eating ass."

[7:56 PM] Sei Bae: "Rimming," he corrects with a grin before shrugging with a nod. Not that anyone even batted an eyelash at the conversation topics, but he respected Larry's need for more privacy and would facilitate it. Accepting the bag of fries and cup of soda, he pushed himself out of his seat and stood waiting for Larry, nodding for him to lead the way, patiently waiting for him to start to questions when he felt confident.

[8:03 PM] Lemonest: Larry's face colors immediately at the correction and he bristles, but follows after as soon as they've got their fries. His hands dip back into his pockets and his posture slouches, his rubber band stride slow enough to stay close.

"So...ok on the surface I kinda know what most of it means," he starts, fighting the urge to hide his face in his hair. "Hair's easy, got plenty of it. Clothes stuff, easy. Body paint actually looks like it'd be ok. But how the hell do you make tickling and cuddling sexy? That's like...stuff you do with your mom and that's not a direction I'm going down."

[8:14 PM] Sei Bae: "I think it's less about being sexy and more about satisfying someone's kinks. It's like looking up porn online for really obscure kinks like foot worship or something. You just make something mundane more intimate. Tickling, though, is pretty simple on either hand," he gestures vaguely with one hand, patting a few places on his own body.

"Tickling works a lot of the same nerves that are stimulated during orgasm, so it's a lot like a very tiny orgasm. Not to ruin something as harmless as tickling friends. It's just weird biology is all," he shrugs. "Cuddling can be platonic or intimate, too. Think about being in a good relationship; cuddling often leads to heavy petting and from there to sex, or cuddling after sex. It's still peripheral to kinks and intimacy, so someone enjoys seeing it and there you go. Odds are you'll probably want to find yourself a partner that you genuinely like enough to feel that comfortable with. After you've gone around and met more people, set up a decent friend circle."

[8:26 PM] Lemonest: Listening quietly, it all starts to make a lot of sense to Larry. No he's never connected a sexual feeling to being ticklish but he can kind of see where the connection might be. Maybe it'd be easy for someone to get off after a good, exhausting tickle fight.

"Can you connect that kind of stuff to sensation play? I keep imagining feathers and stuff for that."

[8:41 PM] Sei Bae: "Feathers, sure. Sensation play is a little more fun with ice or warm things, blowing on sensitive areas, uh, gently dragging nails along skin, or feathers, like you said," he nods, stuffing both hands into his pockets and loping along next to Larry.

"Dragging something hard up the inside of the foot's arch, sliding silk over a rigid dick. Sensation play is super fuckin' varied, man."

[8:55 PM] Lemonest: "Wild," he murmurs, leading the way back into the starter apartments and pausing in the hall. "Hey, you got a card too, right? Do we have the same things? Is that something both people can profit off of at the same time or is it one per? It'd be a fast way to get up some spare cash..." He can't believe he's actually bringing this up, especially with a guy that was basically a cop sent to arrest his incorporeal ass once.

[9:10 PM] Rose: That actually threw him for a moment, gold eyes blinking a few times. He'd been perfectly content to just be friendly, cordial. No pressure. They might even need one another just to feel grounded, he'd been willing to give. Being asked about his own card in the context of actually hooking up was unexpected. Not that he was complaining; he was, by his very nature, extremely blasé about everything.

"Well, let's have a look," he nods, turning around to lean against the hallway wall, booted feet crossing at the ankles. He looked everything the part of the 50's bad boy as he flicked through his phone and completed opening his card to look over things, pulling up Larry's to compare.

"We actually have a decent amount in common," he muses with a small nod of approval. A few things on there he actually worried about Larry having to do, being yet a bit vanilla. Still, he was willing to help if the guy asked him to. He choked on a laugh when he saw authority figures, glancing over at Larry with his usual smirk.

"I'm forwarding you my list so if you see anything you feel confident about, I'm cool to try. I'm ignoring the past since I'm already in dereliction of duty just by being here, so let's not think of each other as cop and suspect. I'm in no position to arrest you, you're in no danger here of anything to do with the shit back home. You just think about what you want to do and if you want to do any of it with me, I'm happy to be of service."

He pauses a moment, looking at some of the things on Larry's card and furrowing his brow before looking up and adding.

"The more hardcore stuff on here...save it for a bit and don't stress over maybe having to do it with a stranger or something. If and when you need to do that stuff...I think after a little time you might be comfortable enough with me to do it and...I'll let you do it to me if you're worried about being the recipient. Blades and Sounding might be...intense."

[10:35 AM] Lemonest: Upon receipt of Nick's card Larry chews a little bit at his lip, just comparing it to his own. He was right, there's a good amount of overlap there. A lot of these things could be combined, if the stuff he could imagine were actually achievable. His hands come up out of his pockets but he doesn't seem to know what to do with them.

"Some of this shit's really intense, man. I mean I guess it's about how you do it but jesus..."

He's pretty sure he's never felt less in the mood while discussing sexual things.

[10:57 AM] Rose: "Yeah... I'm open to pretty much anything, but I think its incredibly unfair to put people in this position and then expect them to do so many things that even some veterans might shy from. A person with more scruples than myself isn't very likely to complete their list if they have something they simply can't or won't do. But I guess that's where guys like me help pick up the slack, honestly," he muses, eyes roaming their cards a moment more before he closes the view with a shrug and smile.

"It's not in my nature to turn this kind of stuff down. I hate to say it, but the more obscene the better, in my case. If you do pick me for anything, I can at least promise I ain't the kinda guy to push something on someone else. I don't mind doing things at someone else's pace and comfort level. Pump the brakes, so to speak. I just don't have any limits myself..."

He trails off a minute in thought before clearing his throat and shaking his head.

"Nah, that ain't completely true. I wouldn't ever do anything with kids. Probably no one under eighteen, honestly. I got some moral decency."

[11:09 AM] Lemonest: Larry looks horrified at that thought. "Are there kids here?" He doesn't think he actually wants to know. It's such an awful thought, on top of the awfulness they're already dealing with. He'd talk about what the plan was and learn what everything is with this guy, he seems decent enough, but if he meets a kid he's not going to deal with it.

[11:20 AM] Rose: "Not that I've seen, but these people are willing to kidnap others and force them to fuck for entertainment. I ain't gonna give them the benefit of a doubt," he points out with a wrinkled nose.

"This situation is probably really gross for a lot of people, yourself included. I'm sorry you're stuck here, bu~t on the positive side, I'm glad they have the ability to bring you back like this. Maybe they'll send you back alive? You give me a full statement about your Nockfell experience later, I'll vouch for you when we get back. Sounds like one of those things...dubious blessings or whatever."

[3:14 PM] Lemonest: Pushing down on the immediate urge to explain to the guy that he has literally nothing to go back to, Larry just nods some, brushing his hair back behind his ear and slouching against the opposite wall.

"Yeah I guess, and it is way better than whatever the fuck I was doing before... Hell, maybe if I get enough done here I can take some funds with me and get set up back home. Go back to school, even."

[3:18 PM] Rose: A huge proponent of changing your own image and remaking yourself to live the life you want every so often, Nick doesn't fully understand the idea of not having something to back to. He never has something to go back to for very long, after all, and starting new is just old hat.

"That'd be pretty awesome, yeah!" Nick smiles cheerily, all his too-perfect teeth glinting in the hall lighting as he reaches out and thumps a fist against one of Larry's shoulders. "Even if it didn't, with your situation what it's been, the bureau would probably facilitate your education in the hopes of hiring you eventually. They have a pretty solid outreach program. Either way, keep that kind of positivity, cutie. You'll go places."

[4:44 PM] Lemonest: Larry chuckles with the little punch, shrugging again and glancing down the hall. Oddly there doesn't seem to be any noise coming from any of the rooms, like nobody else is living there. He knows that's not true, especially after having checked the stationwide communications channel. They must just have really, really good soundproofing.

"So...hey, you turned out cooler than I was expecting. You don't have to tell me about this stuff if you don't actually want to. I'll figure it out." Less pressure and no expectation that way, he figures. They can talk over the text channels if they want to, anyway.

[5:06 PM] Rose: "I don't mind at all," he shrugs, tucking his hands back into his pockets and returning to his relaxed lean against the wall. "I may be a cop, but I'm a deviant by nature. It's the knowledge of right and wrong, and the choice to do right, that keep a guy like me in check. I won't say I'm a sociopath, that's pretty excessive, but I don't operate on the usual human level. I just...want to be more human, so I do my best. I'm glad you approve," he grins, yellow eyes glittering with amusement.

"Besides, I do prefer you know what you're getting yourself into, so helping you understand makes me feel better about your odds."

[5:24 PM] Lemonest: "I've never trusted cops, man. They were all fake back home, and before that they were shitty about my mom. I'd step out of it if you can, or at least don't do the whole shitty closing ranks, thin blue line bullshit." He has a lot of opinions about cops, but in the interest of not bringing the mood down he curbs his own diatribe.

"Anyway, it's not like i have very much room at my place if you still want to sit and play twenty questions."

[5:51 PM] Rose: "Well, thin blue line doesn't apply to my bureau anyways," he shrugs with a snort and chuckle. "I'm honestly surprised I'm a cop at all, most days when I wake up. I look at the badge and just wonder one, how the fuck did I get here, and two, why am I so damn good at it?" he muses, grinning crookedly with another shrug.

"I don't think either of us has much room, but if you don't mind me sitting on your bed, I can eat these fries and soda and answer every question you have about anything. I'm a veritable cornucopia of peculiar information, and I'm open to pretty much anything from posing nude for art to letting you test out your slapping strength. I'm here for a good time and a long time."

[6:05 PM] Lemonest: Larry's lips purse and he rubs his hand down the side of his face as he considers that a moment, then nods his head toward the door to his place. It's only a few down from Nick's, it turns out.

"I don't have any supplies yet but it'd be nice having someone on call to be a model anyway," he says as he scans his bracelet to let him in. The place is identical to Nick's in layout, the bed a mess and the small assortment of furniture pushed back toward the walls as if to try and give him a little more room. He flops himself down onto the bed and reaches for the fries to munch on while he talks.

"Guess I'll start from the top and work my way down," he mutters as he pulls up the card again, this time on his phone so they can both see. "Ok so...hair pulling, that's elementary shit. I can knock that out in a heatbeat right? Someone's gonna wanna do it even without being prompted. Comes with the territory. But what's with 'blades'? Is it what it sounds like? Just...cutting on someone?"

[6:18 PM] Rose: "Wait you mean it?" he asks, looking up with a curious expression as he sets his food down and slides out of his jacket. "I was just being facetious. No one's ever wanted to paint me like one of their French girls," he remarks, even as he reveals a lean, firm body with sun-kissed skin. A man that liked to lay out by the pool, for sure.

"Nah man, you don't have to cut anyone for blades to be involved. That's more like bloodplay territory. A lot of people like the excitement of running a blade over skin. It's the threat more than anything. Sure, you can cut too, if that's what you're into. But a lot of the time just using a knife in non-injurious ways is enough," he explains, folding his jacket over the back of a chair before slouching into it, legs stretched out and crossing at the ankles.

"And yeah, hair-pulling is really mild. Lots of people are into it. I'm not so much, but that's because it takes a lot of work to get my hair this nice. Not because I don't get turned on by it. I love it if I'm like...fresh out of the shower and haven't styled."

[6:31 PM] Lemonest: "You do have a lot of stuff in your hair," Larry agrees, then sticks a few fries in his mouth as he pokes at his phone. There's no way for him to find his old art anymore, after it was burned up when Ash destroyed his treehouse for him. Unfortunate, really. "Anyway yeah dude, I was gonna go to art school. It was like my one passion. Never really had anyone that was comfortable sitting for me though, besides my best friend. Sal wasn't even cool with it even though he liked my work in general. Just an anxiety thing, I don't blane him."

He pokes around his phone a little more until he finds a radio station that would give them some mellow ambience and break up the white noise.

"Hey actually, body paint is one of the things. Could do something cool with that probably. Then there's...uh...stripping, crossdressing...gags and silence so I'm guessing just keeping someone quiet while you're doing whatever else. That'd probably go good combined with other stuff. Sex toys...that's gonna have to wait til i can actually afford 'em..." Please don't call out his increasing embarrassment as he looks through the options, he already feels weird reading them out loud.

[6:36 PM] Rose: Jersey wouldn't dream of humiliating him for such things, and instead focused on the small jab directed his way.

"Excuse you, I have exactly the right amount of "stuff" in my hair. You don't get to look this good without a little effort," he huffs, reaching up with one hand to slick down the side of his hair, the other hand holding his drink up to sip noisily for a moment.

"Don't forget there's all these VR places and things, too, so what you can't necessarily do in reality, or you're not comfortable with, you can probably do there. I did notice that you can't knock out more than one task in one sitting though...so there's no point trying to do as many things in one encounter as possible. Honestly, that's a good way to get really burned out real fast. A little experimenting and slow graduating in kink is the better way to do it in any situation. You may even learn something about yourself along the way."

[6:43 PM] Lemonest: He hums quietly; that is a very sensible approach.

"Hey, I didn't say it was too much or whatever, just a lot. Anyway yeah, I get the impression that it's designed to force you to pace yourself and spread out what the viewers get to see."

[6:51 PM] Rose: "Word of advice, don't think about the viewers," he remarks, setting the drink down and reaching for some fries. "They're gonna get what they want whether it's from you or someone else. Hell, that's not even a guarantee that you're the one being watched at any point in time. So just ignore all of that and focus on you. If you wanna do something do it, if you don't, then don't. Just have fun at your own pace. Besides, I'll probably be striking out a lot of my tasks and I'm more than willing to throw a little money your way to help you along in your tasks."

[6:56 PM] Lemonest: "I don't want your help like that unless you have all of your own shit figured out and budgeted or whatever," Larry insists, jaw set. Very stubbornly self reliant, this one. "Anyway if it's a thousand every time we get something done it'll be easy to work on it. And there's like an increase in stipend for getting stuff done, right? So I think I'll be ok. We can split costs if it's something I want super fucking bad though ok?" Just to keep Nick from insisting that he can help before he has the chance to try.

[7:05 PM] Rose: He wasn't going to insist, but he sees the firm set of the younger man's jaw and smirks slowly, hackles raising with a desire to poke the prickly thing a little more. He manages to refrain for the moment, though only barely....Nah, fuck it.

"What if I buy you some art supplies? You gonna throw 'em out on principle or somethin'?" he asks, arching a brow and eating a fry with deliberately irritating slowness.

[7:13 PM] Lemonest: Larry narrows his eyes. He knows this game. His friends have played it before. He's grudgingly liking this guy more and more, dammit.

"Then I'll be forced to pay you back," he replies as he reaches for some more fries, himself. He kind of wishes he'd gotten something to drink too, but he has water here. He's fine.

[7:14 PM] Rose: As if reading Larry's mind, Jersey holds the soda out after taking a sip himself. He isn't psychic, of course, but he knows salty fries are better with sweet soda.

"Nah. Paint me somethin' nice that I can hang up in my space. That's good enough, ain't it?"

[7:17 PM] Lemonest: "So we'll call it commission work," Larry decides as he reaches for the soda, only hesitating a little bit before taking a couple of swallows. He hands it back again. "Any idea what kind of thing you want?"

[7:20 PM] Rose: "What, to hang on my walls? Nah, I wouldn't choose something. Art comes from the artist. That's all inspiration, not interior design. If I want to pick something, I can just go down to some decor mart and get some kind of art deco bullshit. Whatever you make, as long as you put your actual feeling into it, it'll be what I want," he replies, nodding once and taking another sip of the drink before setting it aside ( within Larry's reach ) and folwing his hands together on his belly.

"Besides that, I don't need much. I like a little luxury, sure, but once I get a slightly bigger place, the rest of that money is just gonna go to waste. I'll probably be spending it on everyone I can, honestly. No point being stingy."

[5:45 PM] Lemonest: Larry wrinkles his nose. "Dude, you can't just go 'do whatever you want because art!' Have you never worked with an artist before? It's just gonna end up in crippling indecision and me hating everything I produce. I need direction, man." And right now, his inspiration is shot. He's stressed out, and he can feel the beginnings of a migraine creeping up on him. It's rare he ever gets them, usually when something huge happens and he's trying too hare to process everything at once to force himself through it.

[5:54 PM] Rose: "Hm. Could you do something unspecific? I just want something that evokes an emotion instead of draws a picture that doesn't allow for personal interpretation." Never accused of being deep, it's very evident that Detective Nick "Jersey" Leeds isn't exactly shallow, either.

"I just want you to have a healthy outlet that isn't all weird sex, kid. Everyone needs something that's just them. I like reading motorcycle magazines. That's usually my thing, but I'll probably have to find an alternative hobby. Can't even tinker on my hot rod when I'm stressed, which is a downer. I think it's really awesome you've got art, man. Me getting something will just be a nice benefit."

[7:25 AM] Lemonest: Larry mushes his face against his arm, propped up on top of his knee with his long, rather lank hair pouring over his shoulder. He considers for a long moment what might work, then grumbles.

"Ok how about this. When I start putting stuff out again, you get your pick of whatever you want to keep. Whatever gives you the feeling you're looking for. Sound fair?"

[8:07 AM] Rose: He smiles faintly, bobbing his head in a nod Larry can't necessarily see, but can probably hear in the rustle of clothing and tone of his voice.

"I think the sounds more than fair," he replies softly, watching Larry a moment before making a soft humming sound of thought, then pushing himself up with an exaggerated groan and stretch.

"Allllright, buddy. You need me for anything else? I could use a nap after all this lunacy!" He barks lightly, feeling that Larry was dissociating a bit and needed some time to himself, but instead of calling Larry out, he took the responsibility and acted as though it was himself that needed space and breathing time. A pointlessly kind gesture that needed no words. Just Jersey's weird way.

[10:44 AM] Lemonest: "Nap sounds good," Larry replies, shutting down his display and rolling off his bed to show Nick back out. Not that it's all that necessary considering that the door is maybe a couple of yards away, but still. It's the thought of the thing. Be nice to the first good guy he's met in this weirdass place.

Comments

Post-Cannibalism Discussion

[sanitysfall]

He bids farewell with the promise that as soon as he's actually started producing art again, he'd let the man know. For now he wants to take advantage of the time to himself to really sit and absorb and work through what he is rapidly realizing is trauma.

Which he becomes acutely aware of when he finally checks in with the station-wide general comms channel, figuring he could get a general idea of who else was here. When the first thing he sees is a discussion on the nuances of cannibalism something trips in him, and he starts becoming acutely aware of his heart in his chest and the high whine in his ears that he knows precedes a panic attack. So he keeps his responses very simple and tries to ease himself back out of it, in the end going radio silent again and moving off to lock himself in the bathroom for a while. There's a ping on his display to let him know someone's at the door, but he doesn't trust himself to move just now.

[10:49 AM] Rose: A little time away and a few online conversations later and Jersey feels like a right cock-up. He didn't know all the details, of course, but the few statements he did have in the file suggested some pretty rancid stuff Larry had witnessed and he'd completely forgotten that the guy was never given a chance to - I dunno, seek fuckin' therapy? - and set on a recovery journey or whatever people with a wider emotional panel than himself did.

So he worked up a care package, a light but mood-worthy burger and fries meal with soda, and a small bag of cheap art supplies to get a start. Neither of them had any disposable income to speak of yet, but Jersey knew he could get his dick down far easier than Larry, so spending a little on the kid was probably fine.

"Hey kid," he called out, lightly thudding the toes of his boot on the door. "Open up, it's Jersey."

[5:28 PM] Lemonest: It takes a minute, but the door finally cracks open, showing a reddened eye looking back at Jersey, the dark circle under it puffy. It blinks slowly until finally Larry steps back to let him in. He's changed clothes to a clean, overlarge red sweater and black pajama pants, and his hair is twisted into a sloppy bun at the back of his neck, though some falls into his face. He looks ok, all things considered, but not great.

"What's up?" he says quietly, pretending that he doesn't notice the scratchiness of his voice.

[5:38 PM] Rose: "Dinner and a surprise," he answers, dropping the bag of food on the bed before turning and holding out the bag of art supplies, lips curved into his usual smirk. It dropped slowly after only a second, yellow eyes taking in Larry as a whole with a sigh.

"Just some small hand canvases and paints, some paper and charcoal. Admittedly, I have no idea what artists consider good gifts," he offers with a small shrug.

"Thought you might need someone to get you out of your head for a few minutes.."

[5:50 PM] Lemonest: Larry takes in the offerings and gives Nick a shaky little smile.

"Thanks, man. I appreciate it." He's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth and, besides that, he has a good idea of why the guy is doing this. A peek into the bag and he has an idea already.

The smell of food hits him though, and he carefully puts the art supplies aside. "So...what, am I on watch now?" He has to ask; it wouldn't be the first time someone was worried enough that they invited themselves over. Yes his friends would occasionally barge in for the hell of it, but Jersey had seen him having a bad moment. He knew more about Larry's history than anyone else here. Hell, he's almost certainly the only one that knows.

[6:13 PM] Rose: "Do you need to be?" he asks, tone a bit more serious and less jokey than usual as he arches a curved brow slowly, leather jacket creaking as he crosses his muscled arms in a disapproving posturing.

"I can stick around as long as you need or want, kid. I'm not exactly pressed for time."

[6:24 PM] Lemonest: Larry has to actually stop and think about that before he responds. Should he be on watch right now? Yeah he's not doing great, but he's not bad enough to feel like hurting himself.

"Nah, man. It was just a panic attack," he finally replies, sinking onto the edge of his bed. "I'll be ok. Just...gimme a couple hours."

[6:39 PM] Rose: "You got me as long as you need, like I said," he reiterated, nodding and moving across the room to pull his jacket off, tossing it across the back of the same chair he'd sat in before. After a moment of thought, he leans down and pulls his boots off as well, setting them politely by the door.

"Mind if I lay on the bed?" he asks, reaching into his back pocket and holding up a crumpled magazine with a motorcycle emblazoned on the front. "Not in the best shape, but I found it at a secondhand shop near the burger joint. Least I can pine for my own art," he chuckles, tapping the magazine against his chest with a fluttery sigh.

[6:53 PM] Lemonest: That...wasn't really what Larry meant, but he can't say he's not grateful for the company. He shrugs a shoulder and settles down into that chair, grabbing for the food and unwrapping the burger he'd been brought. Panic takes up a hell of a lot of energy and he's tired but mostly he's really hungry. So he wolfs it down without really paying Jersey much attention.

When he starts in on the fries he finally slows down, eating a couple at a time between sips of soda. He finds the bundle of napkins in the takeout bag and wipes his fingers after a few minutes so he can grab for the sketchpad and charcoals. If he hasn't fallen asleep yet, the other man will get to hear the steady scritch of pencil on paper.

[7:11 PM] Rose: He hardly sleeps, most days, which was part of why he worried about not having anything to read (or at least anything he was interested in reading). When Larry starts drawing, Jersey looks up briefly, smiles slightly, then goes back to flipping through the old magazine, leaned back against the headboard, legs crossed. He didn't feel the need to fill the silence with his own voice, content to just relax and occupy space, making himself available if the other man needed to talk.

Eventually he does look up again, curious about Larry's mood and condition and how having his preferred outlet helped or not.

"You should play some of your music if you want. It won't bother me any. Just fill the space with things that ground you, man. Let me know if there's anything I can do."

[7:26 PM] Lemonest: Larry is focused on the paper, and there's black on the tips of two of his fingers where he's been blending with them. He barely looks away from the paper when Jersey speaks up, but before long he's poking at his phone and starting an alt metal station that's much more lowkey than his usual heavy metal.

His head tips back against the back of the chair after a while, his eyes closed as he walks his pencil across the backs of his fingers. Outwardly he seems to be doing better at least.

[7:32 PM] Rose: Glancing up on occasion, Jersey smile and nods to himself, satisfied with a job reasonably well done. He might be a little out of his element, but that's no reason not to make an effort. Eventually he sets his magazine aside and just folds his hands behind his head, eyes closing as he listens to the music and reclines, grateful for a reprieve from trying to take everything and getting about as much out of their little hang out sesh as much as Larry probably was. Who would have thought he'd just end up chilling with the guy he was supposed to arrest?

[7:42 PM] Lemonest: Larry takes a long, deep breath and finally lifts his head back up, looking down at the sketchpad and the images on it, then taking up one of the softer charcoals to start putting darker details into it.

"How much do you know?" he asks after a while, glancing back at Jersey. "About what happened. In the apartments,"

[9:01 PM] Rose: "Not as much as I want to," he admits, shaking his head as he looks over again, blinking those almost glowing eyes. "I don't mean that in any creepy asshole way. Just as a detective, it's pretty goddamn frustrating when there's so little evidence remaining. We don't often have to deal with conspiracies on the level of what was going down at Nockfell and the surrounding area; there's usually more mess left behind that spells out the bigger picture. And more witnesses. And bodies. The whole case was a clusterfuck from day one."

[12:36 AM] Lemonest: Larry just nods slowly. That made a lot of sense, given what they'd all uncovered even in the days before the ritual. "Yeah...they were really fuckin' good at covering their own tracks. Before they lost the woman that knew how to do it, a lot of the bodies that you guys were probably searching for were being made into lunch meat." And it probably wouldn't take much of a logical leap to realize what came next from that mess, especially given why Jersey was here in the first place. "They started replacing people in the community with....I don't know what they were. Not strictly human, that's all we were sure of."

[6:41 AM] Rose: He sighed deeply, usually comfortably relaxed, pleasant - if a bit smug - expression sinking. He reached up, running a hand over his lower face with a grunt of disapproval as he considered the news. No wonder the boy was a wreck. Were Jersey something closer to human, his stomach might have churned dangerously at the revelation. As is was, he felt disgusted on a different level entirely.

"Probably some sort of possession gig. The evidence and stories make it sound demonic, sometimes, but it's a common misconception that demons just go for the total chaos, worse possible scenario deal. Real demons have a lot more refinement, actually. Rules and hierarchies. It's kind of...corporate, almost. What you guys dealt with was either some masquerading entity, or something not familiar and terrestrial at all, I'd say," he mused, stretching out with a few pops and cracks before sliding bonelessly down to sprawl comfortably in Larry's bed, a cat that acted like he owned the place.

"We knew there was probably a cannibalism angle in there, since we found a freezer with trace human DNA and so many people were missing, with no graves in the area. But feeding them to locals is a whole new level of sick most demons would find...tacky, I suppose. It's repulsive, to say the least," he sighed, gazing at the ceiling a moment before lifting his head enough to look at Larry.

"I'm sorry no one got there sooner, kid."

[8:49 AM] Lemonest: Jersey almost doesn't have to finish what he's saying before Larry speaks up again, and it's clear that it pains him, but that he also really seems to need to talk about this. Maybe it would be important down the line, if they went home. If he told the guy everything he remembered, maybe it would make sure they knew what to do if they ever ran into it again.

So he talks stumbling here and there, having to pause every so often to gather himself and keep his timeline straight. Sometimes he just has to sit and breathe to be able to even keep talking. He explains what they knew about the Endless One, the immensely old Eldritch creature that had set about assimilating the souls of everyone in town, living or dead. He explains that the four of them had been just investigating the ghosts themselves when they'd just stumbled on the cult. He explained that they were all just children when they learned just how deep it all went.

Then he explained that he'd disappeared because he'd killed himself to avoid assimilation, and had been alone in the apartments for so long he'd started to lose himself, until now. It had been... horribly easy, really, to do it after everything he'd been through, from the disappearance of his father to the spirit stalking him, to everything from middle school and beyond. His body had apparently been taken by the cult, though he couldn't be sure what for. Not when they had Todd as a vessel already.

He doesn't even realize that he's started to cry until he notices the soaked in spots on his paper, screwing up part of the drawing. He's just numb now, and so tired.

"Sorry," he mutters, wiping his sleeve across his face. "I think I needed to talk about it. And I trust you, man. I know I probably have no reason to, but I do."

[9:15 AM] Rose: The more Larry talked, the more Jersey sat up, alert and attentive, respectfully silent as the guy just poured his heart out and spilled all the beans. Yellow eyes roamed Larry's face, taking in tone and expression, picking things apart the way a detective just naturally did, searching for the truths and lies, the hesitations.

"What an ugly fuckin' scenario, kid. I'm so sorry," he sighs, scooting down the bed and closing the space between them to just crush Larry is a hug. Simple, platonic, nothing pushy or gross. Just the kind of crushing bro-hug one might get after slamming too many beers and crying about a recent break-up. And Jersey happened to give pretty good bro-hugs.

"Let it out, man. Nothing wrong with being really overwhelmed by all that and this. You haven't had any time to really process, your usual support structure is shambles...it's okay to feel a little crazy," he added, thumping a hand on Larry's back several times before giving a rough rub, then patting again.

"If you need someone to trust, I got you. Whatever you wanna know that'll help you feel better about it, just ask, alright?" he reassured the younger man, leaning to hold him at arm's length, staring into his face with a proper solid brothers-in-arms look. "We're in this together now, okay?"

[11:10 AM] Lemonest: Larry fell into the hug naturally, grateful for the physical reassurance. He'd missed being able to actually touch and maintain contact with other people and he needed this, so fucking much. He shuddered and let himself collapse into the embrace, his forehead briefly resting on Jersey's shoulder.

He was quiet as he cried, and it didn't even last all that long, but his grip was tight as he finally settled down, and he only pulled back when he felt like he was in a more stable place. For everything else wrong with him, he was at least good at letting his feelings run their course when he was in a position to do so. He slumped back into his seat with his feet pulled up onto the seat in front of him, sketchpad balanced on his thighs.

"Yeah. Yeah...we're both in it. If you need anything else I'll try to help."

[sanitysfall]

[11:43 AM] Rose: "Nope, I'm totally good," Jersey laughed, albeit perhaps a tad bitterly. He didn't (couldn't) process things the same way as humans. things that were the height of "awful" were usually just personal annoyances for him. Sure, he could feel things, human things, and he had compassion and empathy, but when things were in regards to himself, it was a lot harder to give a shit when you were essentially immortal and the product of some pretty real evil. Like, the biblical plague kind. There wasn't a chance in - forgive him the expression - Hell, that he'd need genuine emotional support. Just a good friend to bounce ideas off of, share space with, and occasionally complain to, was more than enough. Things he figured he would eventually go to Larry for, if he was ever feeling melancholic.

"Where do you consider yourself on the spectrum of "all better, coming to terms, critical mass, total freakout" at the moment? Because in the interest of full disclosure, and to hopefully set your mind at ease in the future, I think it's important you know about me as less than 'Detective Nick Leeds' and more 'Jersey'. As a friend," he added the last bit gently, insistent on his good intention.

[12:17 PM] Lemonest: Larry could almost be trying to actively pick a hole in the sleeve of his sweater as he fidgeted with it, nail scraping over a patch of one cuff insistently. He felt like shit and he knew he looked like shit, regardless of the effort he'd made to clean himself up.

He didn't know enough about Jersey to be able to really pick up on what was on his mind, but there was that note of bitterness that did catch his attention. He hoped that he hadn't said something that had genuinely upset the guy.

"I dunno man, where does 'need a thirteen hour depression nap' fall on that? I'm so fuckin' tired right now." His eyes did burn, and he couldn't keep rubbing them or it would look worse wouldn't it? "'Friends' is good. I can totally handle 'friends.'"

[12:53 PM] Rose: "Depression naps aren't all that good for you anyways, but I'm not here to tell you how to cope. You know yourself better than anyone and if you think that's what you need, I'll totally respect that. As far as it goes..." he chewed the end of his ever present matchstick a moment before clearing his throat, sitting up a bit straighter.

"Your situation with the so-called "Endless One" got me thinking that you are probably both terrified of and have a low opinion of, infernal or abyssal, if you will, denizens. So I'd like to clear the air so this doesn't come up in the future and you think I deliberately kept it from you." Another clearing of his throat, both hands moving to smooth out his pompadour.

"So...how much do you know about cryptids?"

[1:12 PM] Lemonest: Larry once more smushed his cheek against his arm as he sort of curled on himself, looking back at Jersey with a soft frown.

"I mean, you already told me you weren't human... Pretty sure I'm not strictly human either. I mean, I was told that my father wasn't actually from Earth, and there's evidence to back that up. I'm not really in a position to question that kind of thing.

"Scared...yeah. Low opinion, though, I don't know. I didn't have a bad opinion about most of the ghosts I met, they never really gave me any reason to, and you haven't either. It scares the hell out of me that I'm still running into things that can kill me but that's pretty much true of anywhere you end up, right?"

Larry pulled his hair over his shoulder and fussed with it, fingers running through the rather frayed, split ends fretfully. "I know some of 'em, but that was Todd's thing. He was the one that liked researching that stuff. Mothmen and Big Foot and stuff like that. I'm not really in a position to question any of it."

[1:21 PM] Rose: "Ever heard of the Jersey Devil?" he asks, cocking a brow before gesturing at himself then doing jazz-hands.

"Tadaaaaaa. You're talkin' to a regular celebrity, pal." His tone holds less excitement about the subject than one may expect. He didn't even sound particularly enthused about his fringe popularity. Then again, if anyone knew the variety of rumors around the Jersey Devil regarding familial issues, among others, his wasn't exactly the sunniest background.

"I just choose to look like this. The one benefit of devilish heritage - you're good at glamours."

[3:13 PM] Lemonest: Larry blinks at him, then he snorts quietly. "What does it say about me that I'm not even a little surprised? Todd would shit himself if I ever got the chance to tell him I met the Jersey Devil." He sounds rather sad at that, but to his credit he doesn't seem to be dwelling on it too much.

"That's cool though, you can blend in wherever. Probably makes being the subject of investigations by a bunch of teenagers easier to avoid."

[3:25 PM] Rose: "Took a long time to figure out, though. Imagine being born, being naked and arguably one of the ugliest things anyone has ever seen - though I would like to point out the comments on what I look like are greatly exaggerated - and then being left to die out in the barren pine scrub of colonial-era Jersey. I promise you, it was a bitch," he chuckles, leaning back a bit and propping himself on the bed on his elbows.

"But hey, thanks for being the first person to not make a snide comment about how I choose to look. A lot of people give me shit for my aesthetic."

[3:29 PM] Lemonest: "Dude, what? It's a fuckin' rad aesthetic. Not something I can pull off but you rock it." But Larry is also one of the least judgmental people when it comes to appearance. He's also dealt with his fair share of bullying, growing up being tall and thin and one of the very small population of non-white folks in Nockfell.

[3:47 PM] Rose: "Huh, thanks man," Jersey smiles, genuinely pleased by the offhand compliment. "A lot of the people that find out about me and that I make myself look this way tend to ask something along the lines of 'you can look like anything and you choose to look like that?' and I promise you, it gets old. I mean, my feelings aren't hurt becaus the person that says that is the real asshole in this equation, but come on. I got rights."

[3:50 PM] Lemonest: "People give me shit about my hair and stuff for no damn reason. It's fuckin' dumb and I will not intentionally do that to anyone else."

[3:55 PM] Rose: "Fair enough. My hair is a point of pride," he sniffs softly, raising one of his hands to pat the pompadour gently.

"So...wanna see?" he asks with a sly smirk and arched brow, gesturing vaguely at himself to indicate he was willing to amuse.

[4:21 PM] Lemonest: Larry's eyebrow arches up at that and he glances over Jersey with some obvious surprise.

"If I didn't know better that'd sound like a proposition," Larry points out, but he un-balls himself from the chair as if to get a better position to watch from. "Yeah I wanna see."

[4:54 PM] Rose: "It wasn't, but I don't turn down opportunities. Save that thought, though," he raised a hand, looking around before sliding off the bed and heading into the bathroom. A minute or so later, sounds of belt buckle and zipper coming from the room, Jersey steps out, hips wrapped in Larry's towel because he couldn't fit into his clothes.

Standing easily a good seven foot tall, Jersey has the vague similarity of facial structure to his chosen human form, but all other similarity ends with that. While human, Jersey was buff and lean in a wiry way, but that translated to a more lanky look at his greater height. Still physically strong, but sort of stretched out and a little starved looking. His previously Jersey Shore tan skin was now crimson, making his yellow eyes stand out even more, and where he kept small horns tucked in his pompadour as a human, they were now long and curved up from his forehead like black glass, preventing his long black hair from being able to support his precious pomp. All of his teeth were sharp points, no molars or incisors to break up the needle-like smile on his almost skeletal face. Looking down past the towel held around his hips were a thickly muscled pair of digitigrade legs ending in cloven hooves that clacked softly on the bathroom floor as he exited. Trailing behind him, Jersey sported a long, whiplike tail and a broad, bright red pair of leathery wings that arched fairly artfully, framing his imposing figure as he turned slightly and pulled a comically dainty anime-girl pose, one hoof positioned like a toe tip slightly behind him and his free hand with it's black talons propped under his chin.

"Iyaaaaa Larry-senpaiiii," he did his best moe voice, which was far too deep to be anything but laughable as he tried to lighten the impact of his form by being as absurd as possible.

[5:18 PM] Lemonest: Several things happened in rapid succession: Larry opened his mouth to ask if that was his towel, but then his eyes widened, raking up and down the incredibly strange new form before him, and where he'd been standing, his knees had unhinged and he'd fallen to the ground without realizing he was going down until he was looking up at Jersey with his mouth still agape.

The immediate fear was eclipsed by the absolute absurdity when the man did the moe girl voice, and Larry let out a harsh sort of guffaw, his expression conflicted between bewilderment, terror and a sort of confused humor.

"Jesus H Motherfuck," he breathed, unsure of where he should be looking, especially considering the wiggins looking into that face was giving him.

[5:49 PM] Rose: "Ye~ah, I get that a lot. Mostly from wannabe cryptozoologists in the barrens at night, but I'm usually trying to get my spook on then. They deserve it for all their hard work," he chuckles in spite of himself, pacing over and leaning to hold out his hand in offer to help Larry back up to his feet.

"You can see why I go for the whole Jersey boy greaser look, right? There's not a lot more harmless-looking than that while still getting to be stylish. Can't exactly walk around in common public like this."

[6:00 PM] Lemonest: Larry reflexively withdraws his feet to keep them from being trodden on by cloven goddamn hooves, staring for a moment at the red-skinned hand offered to him, then gingerly taking it so he doesn't just leave Jersey hanging.

"Yeah, that's....fuck, that's a lot, he breathes, his hand pushing back through his hair and scratching idly as he just processes. "Fuck, man."

[sanitysfall]

[6:24 PM] Rose: "I can change back if it's too much," he offered, letting Larry's hand go as soon as he was standing. "I'm not offended when people are scared or disturbed. It is what it is," he shrugs, taking a step back and giving the guy some space. He spares the moment to do a little turn again, letting Larry see all of him, sans the bits, of course. That cost extra.

[6:27 PM] Lemonest: "Not gonna lie man, I was expecting a goat head," Larry quips, still obviously shaken, but trying to get back to something a little more level. He looks down at the tail as it swishes by his shins. "So you always have all this? It's just covered up by illusions?"

[7:28 PM] Rose: "That was a very young and stupid Jersey Devil determined to be the monster everyone called me. I'm much more mature than that, now," he sniffs a bit haughtily, pausing to look down at Larry with a small shrug.

"No, it's...I guess think of it like clay. This analogy will be terrible, but bear with me. So you have a thing you want to make, and it's me like this, right? Then you change your mind and want to make me like I usually am, so you shape it all different and pull off the extra clay you don't need and set it aside for in case you change you mind and want me to look like this again. In one form or the other, I am completely that thing, but I'm always the clay. Sometimes more clay, sometimes less. It's not all hidden in a spell or tucked away inside. If I fall asleep or unconscious, I don't suddenly revert to this. I can only choose to be my true form, or something really bad has to happen that destroys the cover. Like a couple months back I saved my partner from getting toasted by a flamethrower. The human me didn't survive, just burned away, but I can't be killed by fire, so whatever stuff makes up the universe just reconfigured me to my big devil self. Make sense?"

[7:33 PM] Lemonest: "Not really," Larry admits, but he can kind of understand the clay analogy in the context of changing and molding a new appearance. "So...if you can mold yourself into whatever suits you, how'd you settle on the modernized greaser look?" No judgment to be found here, just genuine curiosity. He'd already assured Jersey he liked the guy's aesthetic, after all, so he hopes it won't end up offending.

[7:48 PM] Rose: "Just kind of became my thing," he shrugs helplessly, moving back over to sit on the bed, careful of the towel around his hips. If Larry wasn't screaming for him to change back, he was going to give himself a minute to just exist the way God(?) intended.

"I tried a lot of different looks over the years. I picked this up in the 50's and just kind of went with it until I found a look exactly like what I wanted - what felt like me - and then I stuck to it. I've made adjustments here and there, but for the most part, this has been me since then."

[7:53 PM] Lemonest: Larry nods some in understanding. Jersey certainly isn't the first person to explain the process of really trying to find what his look felt like it should be. It's familiar, actually. He appreciates it, and how open the guy is trying to be.

"Well you found a decent look, at least. I've met guys that decided to settle into the Guido look. Not great." It's becoming easier to be candid with this version of Jersey at least.

[8:03 PM] Rose: "Guido? I take offense!" Jersey laughs, shaking his horned head in mock disappointment. "I'm way better-looking than those brainless muscle-heads! And I have at least some personality. Not to mention I don't juice and I would never pop a collar on a polo. Or own a polo, hell."

[8:08 PM] Lemonest: Larry chuckled and crossed his arms in mock consternation. "Hey now, I owned a grand total of One Single Polo. ....for job interviews. And it had a periwinkle blue stain on the sleeve that made it not a great interview shirt anymore, BUT I DIGRESS! You're definitely not a Guido, and I applaud you for it."
[8:11 PM] Rose: "Thank you, thank you," he intones, pressing a hand to his chest and offering little mock half bows, hair falling front of his eyes each time, a silky black curtain obscuring the wolf-yellow view.

"You're less likely to get hired wearing a polo than a button-up shirt. Just saying."

[8:43 AM] Lemonest: "Really? But I only ever wear a button shirt for special occasions." He'd had to be talked into it actually, because it was his mom's wedding, but still.

[9:00 AM] Rose: "I'm gonna go out on a limb and say you, one, haven't had many interviews," he held up a clawed finger for emphasis, followed by a second, "and two, haven't had many callbacks." A snort, head shaking, the lights in the room glinting off the glassy obsidian shine of his horns.

[9:30 AM] Lemonest: Larry makes a face and a rude gesture, but all in good humor as Jersey nailed it right on the head. "Come on man, I had a good gig helping mom out and school to worry about." Pointedly not bringing up having died, now that he's feeling a little more steady on his feet.

[10:01 AM] Rose: "Hey no, not judging. You had to do what was good for you in the moment and right for your life. I'm just saying, you'd do great at a McDonald's interview," he grins, teeth all promised violence and yet the expression in very non-aggressive, the horror of what he is mixed with a very down-to-earth personality.

Can't judge a book by its cover, only its contents.

[10:11 AM] Lemonest: Larry lets out a harsh snort at that, but he does realizes that yeah, that's probably all that would have been in his future if he had actually been looking for a job besides doing the handyman thing. "Yeah yeah. I can't flip burgers for shit though."

[10:26 AM] Rose: "Are you even American?" Jersey scoffs, arching a brow before holding up a hand, waving off the rhetorical.

"So, feeling better? Less weirded out? More? Still okay with this?" He asks, pulling up part of the towel like a Victorian lady skirt, wriggling one of his hooves like a dainty foot.

[10:39 AM] Lemonest: Larry might have argued with him that he's of the labor job class, thankyouverymuch, but he's distracting him then with the more general questions of his wellbeing.

So Larry sits and assesses himself, feeling the exhaustion acutely, but also realizing that yeah, he absolutely needed that release that just being able to sit and talk and mourn everything that had happened to him gave him.

"For the moment, yeah," he replies quietly, looking down at the hoof wiggled at him. "Y'know, people that actually like monster stuff would probably get a kick outta you."

[10:44 AM] Rose: "Maybe I don't like being fetishized," Jersey points out with an arched brow.

"You forget that I spent a pretty good part of my formative years running for the torch and pitchfork method of child rearing," he snorts a wry laugh, crossing his legs, a hoof bobbing idly in time with the slow swinging of his tail.

[10:46 AM] Lemonest: Larry makes a face and shrugs some, hands in his pockets. "Come on man, I didn't mean just the sexy stuff. Think about costume parties and stuff. You'd be a hit."

[10:53 AM] Rose: Mockingly gasps, touching a hand to his chest. "I'm just a costume now? I see how it is. Me and the Native Americans are just jokes to you now!" He clutches his chest, falling back into the bed, wings stretching to the sides for comfort, and throws an arm over his eyes, stage-sobbing dramatically.

[10:58 AM] Lemonest: "Oh shut up," Larry snorts, swatting a hand at Jersey's knee. "You've seen white people in brown face and sombreros, don't give me that."

[11:09 AM] Rose: His knee jerks slightly at the slap, the same physical nerve jump any normal person would have, just in a lean, naked goat leg instead.

"Yeah and that's all pretty awful, too!" He laughs, propping himself on his elbows, shrugging in stereo with shoulders and wings.

"Even the people on the force with me are uncomfortable with me like this. I get it, though, I do. It's sure to make some people uneasy being a literal Victorian postcard art of the devil. Ah well. Is what it is."

[11:11 AM] Lemonest: Shaking his head, Larry falls back into his seat again, tucking the sketchpad under it and grabbing the bag with the art supplies to look in on what all was there. "Go put your dick away," he says as he picks out the assortment of paints. Cheap, but usable. He'd made do with worse.

[11:46 AM] Rose: "Excuse you, pal, I've kept my business to tidily tucked away so I don't upset your delicate sensibilities," Jersey drawls, still rising from the bed and heading to the bathroom.

"Just no taste," he calls from behind the closed door as clothes rustle and rattle. "Here I am, a bonafide handsome devil, and I'm told to put my clothes back on. That's just hurtful."

He comes back out a minute later, back to 'normal' and combing his hair as he walks out, once again filling out a tight white shirt and cuffed blue jeans, a laugh on his lips.

"You can see why they put me on the case though, yeah? Stereotyping, naturally. I must know more about this stuff. So transparent."

[11:52 AM] Lemonest: "Y'know I had wondered about that and thought maybe it was because Sal was from out in Jersey so they wanted someone local on it?" No real actual thought given to the idea that sending a cryptid in to arrest a ghost would be...a thing. More locale-based rationale than anything.

[11:59 AM] Rose: "I'm sure that helped, but no, the local force integrity was compromised and they don't have investigators for that sort of thing anyways, so my department loaned me out. Probably would have put me up for promotion, though, so there's that," he muses, sitting on the foot of the bed again, looking quite like a whole different person. But it was the person he liked.

"Would it please you to know there's a wrongful execution investigation on your friend? Our legal team is looking at ways of rectifying the situation. Depending on the rulings, of course, but based on just what you've told me, it's probably a solid case."

[7:18 PM] Lemonest: It feels kind of shitty to admit, but Larry definitely prefers seeing Jersey like this anyway. No awful associations that way, no feeling like he's two seconds away from dying if he says the wrong thing.

"I don't know," he murmurs as he sits back again, one foot coming up into his seat again. "He deserves more than that, honestly."

[7:51 PM] Sei Bae: "Not much more my people can do than bringing a person back from the dead," Jersey remarks with a crooked sort of look that seems to ask 'kid, what more could you want?'.

"As police, even supernatural ones, our hands are tied. We can provide some restitution, but that all pretty much boils down to court rulings and red-tape well out of my paygrade. But I promise, kid - what can be fixed will be, if not by me, than by someone else. So don't stress too much, alright?" he sighs, leaning forward and tilting his head to look Larry properly in the eyes.

"You and I may not be there right now, but plenty of others are, and rest assured they're doing their jobs well. So take this time to relax and recuperate. Get your head in a better space. You don't even have to really play their little games, since you have your minimum living needs addressed. If you really wanted to, you could take that depression hibernation of yours and find your center, zen, whatever. I'll make sure you get the occasional check-in and I'll always bring food. Don't sweat the details, alright? No point fretting over the things we can't control, just focus on the things we can."

[8:17 PM] Lemonest: Larry had really just meant in a more broad sense; their lives had been ruined and just about everyone they'd ever loved had been killed or somehow taken away. They didn't deserve it. He would probably never stop being angry about that.

But he'd already unloaded all of that on Jersey. He didn't want to start down that road again. For now, he just wanted to exist here and maybe find some semblance of peace.

"Sorry, man...I just...don't like the idea that the only help we ever get is post-mortem. It just doesn't seem fair." He slumps, looking up at Jersey again and trying to meet his eyes. "It's not because I resent you guys or anything, that's definitely not it. There's nothing we can do about it now anyway, so...you're right. Thinking about other things will probably help."

[8:53 PM] Sei Bae: "No. No, none of you deserved that," he sighs, nodding in agreement and reaching out to gently thump his knuckles against Larry's knee. "Not everywhere has the sort of teams necessary to handle these sorts of things. We do our best when we're invited to help. I only mean to reassure you that what can be done, will be. But yeah, kid. Just try not to think too hard about it. When we can go back, we will. For now, the worst is literally over adn it's all uphill from there. Take the silver lining at face value and let's just focus on what kind of distractions we can find, hm?"

Now that Larry's doing better...

[sanitysfall]

All in all, when Larry finally sees Jersey out for the evening he does feel considerably better. Mission accomplished, they had managed to talk things out in a more productive manner than Larry would have ever thought possible. It wouldn't be permanent, but it was definitely a start toward getting Larry to a mental place where he would legitimately be ok.

He still doesn't really get out and active with the rest of the Station though. He doesn't feel secure enough to want to go out and be social, let alone putting himself in the position that the "main feature" of the place wanted them to take part in. He's been staying in his little apartment for the last week now, and all in all, he hasn't outwardly seemed like he needed any help.

He does, however, eventually ping Jersey again, though he doesn't explain just what he needs right that second. Just that he has something.

[devilishdetective]

Be right there, pal.

No questions asked, no explanation needed. Jersey texted the girl he was supposed to meet up with, told her he'd make a raincheck, then changed route and headed straight over the LArry's without another thought. He didn't care whether it was a big or little thing, Jersey had his priorities.

Arriving at the apartment with his regular offering of sack lunch or dinner, the (former?) detective reached out, wrapping beringed fingers against the door, the metal above his knuckles making the sound echo loud and unique to himself, so that it was hardly necessary to announce himself; he only did so out of courtesy.

"Yo kid, open up! It's Jersey!" he called in that faintly lingering accent, waiting patiently in his date-night outfit. Really just a black on black version of his usual, but with leather pants instead of jeans. It cast a far more bad-boy look than his usual affair.

[sanitysfall]

The knock on the door is answered more quickly than usual, and when it opens Larry looks a lot better than the last time they'd seen one-another; he's wearing a shirt that only sort of qualifies as such, having been mutilated so that where there used to be sleeves, there was only a couple of enormous holes that showed his ribs and the ripple of muscle that was normally hidden by the looseness of his clothes. It's obvious why he's wearing it, when Jersey can take it in.

Streaked in reds, blues and blacks, Larry has a good amount of paint on himself, and his hair is clipped up behind him with a few stray strands framing his face. He gives Jersey a gap-toothed, lopsided smile, and nods into the apartment. It's a disaster inside, but only insomuch as it's not nearly as organized as it had been last week.

"Awesome," he huffs, as if talking to himself. His hands don't come into contact with anything else until he picks his paintbrush back up, tucking the handle of it behind his ear.

Stacked in one corner, leaning against the wall, is a small assortment of different sizes of paintings. Obviously he'd gotten a few more after Jersey had dropped off the art supplies before, since he'd been made aware it was an available thing, and the depression had lessened its grip on him.

One of the paintings was a silhouetted figure against a gradient red to black background, with big yellow eyes. The one propped on the cheap collapsible easel was similar in color scheme, showing a rictus smile full of sharp teeth.

"I started thinking about what you said before, and I know you didn't want anything specific or anything but it hit me all at once that I fuckin'... I really wanted to draw you. Sorry, that's probably weird, but I won't show 'em to anyone if you don't want me to, just..." He shrugs helplessly. Anyone that has any kind of familiarity with manic depression will likely recognize it in him, and probably make the connection that he's unmedicated.

[devilishdetective]

Yellow eyes flick over Larry, the room, the expression. His nose picks up the scent of the young man, the chemicals of the paints, the smell unique to canvas. He hears the tone of voice and notes the halting pattern, and taking everything in at once, the good detective knows exactly what's going on, and quickly makes a gameplan for the inevitable crash later, even as he smirks and paces into the room, looking down over the work done so far.

"Kid, I already said I'd model for you. I ain't picky about what form you like more," he hums, fingers trailing along the edge of a canvas as he passes to set the food on the nearest surface. Turning and propping both fists on his hips, Jersey gazes at the piece on the easel, unconsciously curling his lips into a similar grin as he wonders if that's how garish he comes off to people at first encounter.

"I mean, I'm flattered I left such a fuckin' impression on you!" he adds with a laugh, expression still one of mild surprise as he nods towards the food.

"Take a break, man. These, and I, ain't goin' anywhere. What made you call me over? Need a refresher for your memory?"

[sanitysfall]

Larry puts his hands up when Jersey touches the edge of the painting, as it wasn't quite dry yet, but it doesn't seem to bother him so Larry doesn't raise an issue. Watching the man's face curl into a similar grin to the one on his last painting, there's a moment of pride. He'd captured it well, he thinks. He doesn't actually realize that maybe it isn't as flattering to Jersey, seeing how vividly the expression stood out in his mind.

At the offering of the door, Larry's stomach gives a gurgling growl, and he puts his hand over it as if to quiet it. He presumably hadn't eaten much that day, though admittedly that would be true of his entire week.

"Sure. I mean, get comfortable I guess, I don't have anywhere to be either." He clears his throat and sits back down on the back of the chair he'd been perched on in place of a proper stool, the takeout settled on the floor beside it. "Huh? Oh. Uh. I just wanted to show you, I guess, since you wanted one. I'm rambling, sorry."

[devilishdetective]

"I don't mind," he smirks faintly, arching an angular brow at Larry as he looks over his shoulder at the kid before gazing down at the painting again, cocking his head to the side. It's not...flattering, in the sense that it's a painting that will impress people with the subject of it, but it's flattering that he was chosen to be the subject at all. Really, Larry could have painted anything, but he chose him, and Jersey was therefore indeed flattered.

"What if you...painted me as I truly am, but...in a softer scenario. Would that help?" he asked, turning his head to look at Larry more directly. He could tell that what he was and how he looked unnerved the kid, even if he was being an extremely good sport about it.

"I don't mean paint me in a bed of flowers or anything silly like that, but maybe instead of focusing on the image of the monster, you can...emphasize some kind of vulnerability?" He clicked his tongue softly, returning his gaze to the painting, curious. He was the last person to admit any manner of what could be perceived as weakness, but surely there were ways to make himself less threatening. At least to Larry, anyway.

[sanitysfall]

Larry watched him a moment, chewing idly on a few fries retrieved from the lunch Jersey had brought him, tapping on his phone with the other hand until his music started back up after he'd paused it to answer the door. He immediately turns it down, unsure whether Jersey will appreciate it as much as the rest of his music.

"Uh..." He's not sure how to feel about the idea, besides the majority that is incredibly flattered that he'd request that kind of piece from him. He needs more paint to be able to render it how it suddenly popped into his head, but he doesn't voice that. He wants to be able to get them himself, so he knows exactly what he has and what he can do with it. "Shit, man, yeah I can do that." He shoves another couple of fries into his mouth then finally slides down to sit in his chair properly and wipe the paint off his hands so that he could actually dig in without risking eating any.

[devilishdetective]

"Cool, cool," Jersey murmurs absently, tilting his head to hear the music. Larry turns it down, so Jersey wanders over and swipes the screen, turning it up, arching a brow with a vague smirk. He doesn't mind it at all; he's been around too long to be terribly picky about cultural shifts in taste.

That done, he tucks his hands into the tight pockets of his leather pants and slinks around the room, softly creaking as his clothing protests while he lurks, looming over this piece and that, yellow eyes contemplating each piece with more interest than one might normally associate with the man that seemed so casually shallow at first glance.

"You think you've been shut in long enough to start going out and looking around? If you give it a chance you can treat it a lot like any redlight district major city. Somewhere in LA or New York. Maybe kind of more like Shinjuku or Las Vegas, but still, it's pretty easy to ignore the weird in favor of the rest."

[sanitysfall]

It lightens something in his heart when Jersey turns the music back up without a second thought. He really likes this band, so being able to share it is awesome. Larry rocks gently and bobs his head in time with it when it changes, slightly less frenetic but more heavy and lending to a very good groove to get into.

"Maybe. I'm workin' up to it," he admits. He watches Jersey looking at his paintings, including a hand canvas that's covered in black paint with cracks deliberately made in the acrylic and very carefully lined in different colors along them. Others have slightly broken-looking scenes, warped perspectives and wrong colors. A skinned man on one medium sized canvas, and one of the pieces he'd done of Jersey himself. It's all somewhat nightmarish in nature, but vivid and detailed. "I never really traveled. Meant to, when I was out of school, but..." He shakes his head, clearing his throat. Trying really hard not to dwell, here. He has to self-police a lot more here, since that's really his only option. "I'll get out there eventually."

[devilishdetective]

"Let me know when you do if you need a tag-along. I'm just taking it easy at a slow pace here. I don't need much to get by and the studio is nicer than any place I was livin' in back home so I'm not in a hurry to rush things. I like a little more lead up than you really get around here. Contrary to popular belief, not all devils are created equal. I may look like a real piece of work, but I actually like to get to know a person before hitting the sheets," he gestures vaguely with both hands, indicating sliding into bed.

"So far not a lot of bites, but I'm also not baiting the hook, so to speak. I have a lot of time on my hands when you need anything."

[sanitysfall]

He might have argued that he hadn't really expected it of Jersey because of his status as a devil, but there is still some concern.

"Don't you want to go home too? I mean you put in all this work and the longer you wait, the harder it's gonna be to try and consolidate all the info you have, right?"

[devilishdetective]

"Eh, I figure if they're able to take us from different points in time, they can return us to those times, too. We can probably spend decades here like nothing ever happened, just poof, right back on the same dismal day and the same shitty motel, but with all the work done. The more time I spend here with you, the more I'll learn. Honestly, this might make it a way more comprehensive and compelling report that I make later," he shrugs, running a hand down the back of his neck with a soft pop. How was he supposed to explain that he, the Jersey Devil, really just wanted a break from...everything? Immortality was a shit situation on its own, but couple that with all the boredom and prejudice and the shit economy and bad president...

"I'm in no rush to do much of anything." May as well uphold his sleazeball good-for-nothing reputation.