backwaterbelle | eudio

On average. What about you? It's good to hear from you sugar.

is what it is might be living somewhere

Too normal?

In something you can't fold up and put into your pack perhaps?

aint normal for me a ~condominium~

Point taken.

Look at you all fancy now. When's the house warming party?

dunno. still a 'might' thing but i been in my apartment a bit

Why 'might'?

Up for a visitor?

reasons sure [ address ]

Tell me.

15 minutes put on your pants.

cant type 2 busy putting my fuckin pants on

[Oh so it's sass'o'clock is it Daryl?]

Now this is important.

Keep the shirt off. It's a nice view.

[ He can't type, Rogue!! ]

[Lord have mercy. Well at least he's committing.

She's there in the promised fifteen, wearing a pair of jeans tucked into her favorite cowboy boots, a green tank top, and a brown leather riding jacket. Her hair's up in a messy bun of sorts since she rode her bike to his place. Pausing to shift the weight of her bag's shoulder strap, she knocks on the door before pushing her sunglasses up into her hair.]

[ There's no fanfare when Daryl gets the door - fully dressed, shirt included. He tilts his head back, suggesting that one eyebrow is raised behind his overgrown hair. Oh, it's you.

He feels a little odd answering a door like he owns the place, like this is normal and he has visitors. Accordingly he looks slightly uncomfortable, but buries it. ]

You going camping after? [ He asks, meaning her bag. Daryl just nods and steps back, wordlessly inviting her inside.

The apartment is unremarkable for the most part: everything is native to the 'starter' decor, nothing new and largely um-lived-in. There's an ash tray and some empty beer cans on the table next to his collection of weapons, a giant pink stuffed narwhal on the sofa, and a few grocery store bags shoved on the kitchen counter. ]

[She sighs in mock disappointment at his shirt being there, and pokes him gently in the upper arm as she walks inside, face breaking into a bright grin since she's also genuinely happy to not only see him, but see him actually living in his apartment. It's a step forward, and they both know that.

His question to her bag received a little hum as her eyes took in the apartment without judgment, merely curiosity.] Just a few things. [It's not a particularly large bag, but it could be considered a large purse, which apparently is a style again. Maybe? It doesn't really bother her.

She set the bag down against the wall and turns with her arms open and an expectant, lopsided grin splitting her features. Yep, she wants a hug Daryl.] Missed you sugah.

[ 'Living in' is a stretch, but he's been conceding a few nights here and there, and using the kitchen facility. In an unexpected turn, he's missed cooking. Or maybe he just misses the subreddit for using the fruits of a weekend hunting trip.

Daryl makes a hm sound that's only disgruntled for show, and gives her a hug. Light, gentle in its thoughtfulness, different to the last one they shared. Trying to think about what he does anymore, maybe. ]

Yeah, well. [ He shrugs one shoulder. ] Been working some shit out.

[ Kinda. ]

[The mutant notices the difference, and takes the opportunity to run her hand along his back during the hug, rubbing in a friendly, comforting manner before they separate. His response plus him even giving his apartment so much as a second glance have her thoughts somewhere, but she doesn't ask directly on the matter. It's likely a personal one.]

What sort of shit? [She asks, the desire to reach up and push hair out of his face increasing by the moment. Instead Rogue piques an eyebrow to indicate interest before bending over to pull some tupperware containers out of her bag, and unless he protests, her next stop is putting them in the fridge.]

[ The food gets a side-eye, but he doesn't protest when she packs it into his fridge - there's beer and soda in there (a bottle of whiskey in the freezer) next to a covered container of something he clearly made, but nothing else. ]

Got a talking-to.

[One the gifted food is all put away she stands and leans a hip on the nearby counter, arms loosely crossing over her chest. The fridge door closes on its own. His words earn a relatively neutral expression, but it's clear she's worried despite her attempts to hide it.]

By who? And what 'bout?

[ He exhales. Huh. Yeah, he can tell she's worried; it reminds him of Carol in a way he doesn't like thinking about. Fridge opens again and he offers a beer can to Rogue before taking one for himself. ]

The city handlers. Gonna send me home if I don't start pulling my weight with the whole touching people shit.

[She takes the offered beer, cracking it open but not taking a sip yet, her attention settling entirely on him for the time being.]

You want to talk about it? Ah ain't gonna judge you.

[ Daryl's resolution to not get drunk with other people is still standing firm, but he can knock back a couple of beers to dull the sandpaper feeling against his nerves without risk. He pops the tab on his and takes a long drink. ]

Ain't nothing to talk about, [ he says, gaze focused on the can, leaning back against the counter. ] Haven't done anything 'cause I don't want to.

[Her eyes fall to his beer, watching how much he downs in one go with a slight tilt of her head. It's then she takes a sip of her own.]

Alright. Do you want to go home without the incentive?

[ Of course not. He shakes his head even though it's practically rhetorical; there's no way he'd go home voluntarily and just check out of fixing his rotting world. He'd have left already if that were the case.

It's a while before he says anything. ]

'Dunno why they invited me here. There's better fuckin' people to have asked from where I'm from.

[ Literally. Fucking people. Ha, ha. ]

[She respectfully gives him the time he needs to think and speak his piece, not wanting him to feel rushed or forced.]

Maybe they wanted to give a chance to rest from all the shit you've endured... [Trailing off, she wonders if he knows that she likes him and would be happy to help if that's what he wants. It's not something she wants to bring up quite yet, content to give him all the time and space he requires. When she speaks, her voice is gentle and unassuming.] Why ain't you a fan of touchin' sugah?

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