[ However he's feeling, it's probably not positive at all. Eames puts his book away and rises up, stepping into the kitchen to find some bowls and pots. They're going to bake a cake. John probably needs something for his hands to do. ]
both i think. he was destroyed back home. when he showed up here he said that he'd been rebuilt and recompiled.
[ And if he's "home" now then he's molten slag. Somehow it hurts worse than struggling to get him to back away from the edge of the grating over the steel all those years ago. ]
not sure "glad" is part of his programming but i'd guess we got as close as we could. he had relationships here, sort of at least.
he was the one that helped me cook that stuff to bring over on thanksgiving.
[ Cause he's not sure he said, really. Mostly though, he kind of hates being in the house alone. With it being as cold as it is out, he doesn't have much of a choice but to find ways to stay inside. ]
I figured you had some help with it. [ Mostly because Connor's idea of cooking had been to open a can or maybe if he got fancy even heat a burger in the microwave. ]
You're feeling pretty shitty by now, aren't you? Do you want to talk about it over text or do we wait until you're here? Sure, he is a robot, or whatever, but you obviously had fond feelings for that guy. And now he's gone. It's alright to feel something about it.
pretty sure he downloaded the entire cooking section of the library for all that. [ Which, honestly, is a hilarious thought. Especially with the idea of him in his gear just sitting or standing and reading book after book. ]
not really sure what i'm feeling.but i think i want to wait. it sounds like the snow's dying down, i could probably get there during a break.
[ So, he's going to start getting ready to venture out. ]
[ What? Eames has already taken him in and under his wing. He wouldn't be fussing about calling if he wasn't already ready to worry. Soon enough, though, there's a knock at the door.
He's in perfect health but layered ridiculously. ]
You know this is the one weather scenario I never trained for and I kind of hate it.
[ Yeah, he's worried. John might be tough but he's still a kid and Eames doesn't like the idea of him wandering around alone outside right now. There are those zombies out there. ]
Wow, I thought someone had robbed the goodwill, [ Eames says when he opens the door and lets John in. ] Have you heard of actual winter gear?
[ The idea of someone worrying about him just because of his age is something that doesn't track well for him. The only worry he's dealt with fairly often is the kind that comes when he makes a stupid decision that could put both himself and the future to come at risk.
His face screws up in mock offense. ]
Bite me. [ He says, mouth turned up in a grin as he wipes his boots off and shrugs a little to get the last remnants of snow off. ] Looked for a bit, most of it was not in my size, figured I'd check back later, but the snow is getting hard to navigate. So: layers. Anyway, I grew up in LA and South America.
Usually you go for a few layers, [ Eames teases as he leans onto a doorway and watches John shed some of that layer off. ] Do you need help with excavating yourself out of there?
[ He's keeping things light on purpose. Because loss is something that only can be really healed with time, nothing else has a big difference about it. ]
Oh, is that why I can't feel my fingers? [ He's joking. He can feel them just fine but he's gonna take a crack at Eames if he can, mouth twisting as he does. ] Didn't realize you specialized in dig teams. Is that a side gig?
[ It's comforting to have the banter. It's not the same as his sixteenth birthday from hell that he just went to school the next day ever. In his life, outside of here, it's always: if you can walk then you've got to be able to run. No in-between.
Worst part is, he already had time. Years of it. It dulled it a little, sure. Then Bob was here and--- He doesn't realize he stopped a second, distracted, until he clears his throat and hangs up his heavier coat after he's out of it. He reaches up to rub at his red nose with a sleeve, looking very much his age instead of the way that he normally carries himself. ]
Are we making something?
[ It's kind of a ritual with them. Wholly different than the kind of ones he's used to. In the Connor household it's all cleaning weapons and research. Keeping heads low and eyes up. It's funny to only have to worry about whether or not he messes up a measurement on something or accidentally burns something. A lot easier to clean up flour rather than---well. ]
I'll make an exception for you, [ Eames snorts as he helps putting away all the layers John peels off of himself, hanging them in the rack without making a fuss about it. They might have to go shopping, though, just to get the lad some actual winter gear. This is ridiculous. He checks John's footwear just in case he is trudging around in some light canvas shoes in the snow. ]
Yes, we'll bake a pie because sometimes you need a little bit of sugar in you.
[ He leads the way into the kitchen, hands John an apron when they enter and points him at the tap. Everything starts with washing of the hands. He clonks a bowl onto the table when they're both clean and ready. There's already a hunk of soft butter at the bottom of it. ]
Don't go out of your way or anything. [ Teasing right back. Finally down to his long sleeve henley, jeans and boots. He rubs his hands together briefly and blows into them. It is a bit cold still, it'll wear off. ]
What kind?
[ Though it's a little funny. His birthday is next month. Only Bob would've known that though.
He takes the apron and pulls it on over his head, tying it around the back, and starts washing up. Shrugging a little at the question, he leans in to peek around the other man to see into the bowl. ]
Followed instructions for electronics, dismantling and rebuilding. Some other stuff. Figure it's a little like that.
Making an apple pie is hardly like dismantling a weapon, [ Eames snorts but there's fond amusement in it. ] You put love into it. [ This here is full on bullshit and he doesn't believe it himself. But he likes teasing John, just because he kind of does think that the boy needs a lot of affection. ]
So, what have you been up to lately? What's new?
[ He brings a paper onto the table with the instructions, points out the list of ingredients, little hooks at the ends of them, numbers. First butter and sugar. He points at the bowl. ] Hands in, this you will knead by hand.
If it was that easy then I wouldn't ever worry about my mom's cooking. [ Or lack of being able to. ] Love? [ It may come off as that but he remembers Janelle trying to tell him something like that once. When they thought about adopting him. ] Guess I'm just used to love languages of a different kind.
[ A half-shrug as he blows out a breath with puffed-up cheeks. ]
I mean that hotel thing was weird but weirdly okay? There's this guy I've been spending a lot of time with. [ And boy that is the tips of his ears getting pink so he's just gonna---] It's my birthday this month. Well, February.
[ Hi, guess who is attacking the instructions and the dough making with gusto? This kid. ]
[ Eames simply keeps measuring the ingredients for John while he makes the batter, occasionally telling him a few tips, showing him how to get it smooth and even.
He also pushes aside the mentions of love language of different kind because that sounds like wallowing in less than pleasant issues and Eames thinks John needs something else right now. Something--
Hello pink ears. Details of importance, Eames files them away. Birthday celebrations coming right up. But before that: ] This guy, [ he starts with a small smile while sprinkling a little bit of flour into the mix. ] He something special? A boyfriend?
[ John stops long enough to listen whenever he’s giving him any advice as to putting it all together. It’s not what he’s used to, but learning all of this, especially if it means he gets to hang out around Eames, is a good thing. Something he’s aware enough to know he doesn’t get an awful lot of in his daily life back home.
Another clearing of his throat and a two-shoulder shrug. He doesn’t exactly have a lot of experience in this arena. That being said he can’t really deny what he’s been feeling. ]
Maybe I guess. Started out with all that bullshit back in October. He said he missed driving so we’d go out on patrols when we could. Just started hanging out more and more after it, and---I like being around him.
Uh huh... [ Eames gives him a sideways glance and quirks his brows. ] You more than like being around him, don't you?
[ He wouldn't push, honestly, but he wonders if John needs an advice on shit that might not matter in a dream but is still important. Young blokes with plenty enough hormones in their systems, they're not going to just hang around each other for long. There's going to be more. ]
[ The way his face scrunches up at that is definitely more teenage frustration than future leader of mankind there. It almost reminds him of how Charley would've teased. Or his mom if she was in a good mood for it before Sarkissian happened. ] Yeah, I do.
[ He doesn't exactly have the best track record so far with good things. Baby is a good thing for sure. It kind of freaks him out if he thinks about it too long. ]
He is. He shares his music he makes with me. He doesn't do that with everyone. We went to the music store together to pick out records.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text. j.baum. mid-dec
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[ Which means outside of the friends he's made here, he's all alone. Again. He's not sure how he feels about it. ]
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Gone home, gone or something else?
[ However he's feeling, it's probably not positive at all. Eames puts his book away and rises up, stepping into the kitchen to find some bowls and pots. They're going to bake a cake. John probably needs something for his hands to do. ]
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both i think. he was destroyed back home. when he showed up here he said that he'd been rebuilt and recompiled.
[ And if he's "home" now then he's molten slag. Somehow it hurts worse than struggling to get him to back away from the edge of the grating over the steel all those years ago. ]
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I would imagine he was glad to have a few moments to spend with you here, though. It's unfortunate it ended up being such a short time.
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he was the one that helped me cook that stuff to bring over on thanksgiving.
[ Cause he's not sure he said, really. Mostly though, he kind of hates being in the house alone. With it being as cold as it is out, he doesn't have much of a choice but to find ways to stay inside. ]
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You're feeling pretty shitty by now, aren't you? Do you want to talk about it over text or do we wait until you're here? Sure, he is a robot, or whatever, but you obviously had fond feelings for that guy. And now he's gone. It's alright to feel something about it.
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not really sure what i'm feeling.but i think i want to wait. it sounds like the snow's dying down, i could probably get there during a break.
[ So, he's going to start getting ready to venture out. ]
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Alright. Be careful out there. And if you need help, call me. I'll see you in a little bit?
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i will. try not to worry.
[ What? Eames has already taken him in and under his wing. He wouldn't be fussing about calling if he wasn't already ready to worry. Soon enough, though, there's a knock at the door.
He's in perfect health but layered ridiculously. ]
You know this is the one weather scenario I never trained for and I kind of hate it.
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Wow, I thought someone had robbed the goodwill, [ Eames says when he opens the door and lets John in. ] Have you heard of actual winter gear?
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His face screws up in mock offense. ]
Bite me. [ He says, mouth turned up in a grin as he wipes his boots off and shrugs a little to get the last remnants of snow off. ] Looked for a bit, most of it was not in my size, figured I'd check back later, but the snow is getting hard to navigate. So: layers. Anyway, I grew up in LA and South America.
[ What would he have needed winter gear for? ]
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[ He's keeping things light on purpose. Because loss is something that only can be really healed with time, nothing else has a big difference about it. ]
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[ It's comforting to have the banter. It's not the same as his sixteenth birthday from hell that he just went to school the next day ever. In his life, outside of here, it's always: if you can walk then you've got to be able to run. No in-between.
Worst part is, he already had time. Years of it. It dulled it a little, sure. Then Bob was here and--- He doesn't realize he stopped a second, distracted, until he clears his throat and hangs up his heavier coat after he's out of it. He reaches up to rub at his red nose with a sleeve, looking very much his age instead of the way that he normally carries himself. ]
Are we making something?
[ It's kind of a ritual with them. Wholly different than the kind of ones he's used to. In the Connor household it's all cleaning weapons and research. Keeping heads low and eyes up. It's funny to only have to worry about whether or not he messes up a measurement on something or accidentally burns something. A lot easier to clean up flour rather than---well. ]
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Yes, we'll bake a pie because sometimes you need a little bit of sugar in you.
[ He leads the way into the kitchen, hands John an apron when they enter and points him at the tap. Everything starts with washing of the hands. He clonks a bowl onto the table when they're both clean and ready. There's already a hunk of soft butter at the bottom of it. ]
Have you ever followed a recipe before?
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What kind?
[ Though it's a little funny. His birthday is next month. Only Bob would've known that though.
He takes the apron and pulls it on over his head, tying it around the back, and starts washing up. Shrugging a little at the question, he leans in to peek around the other man to see into the bowl. ]
Followed instructions for electronics, dismantling and rebuilding. Some other stuff. Figure it's a little like that.
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So, what have you been up to lately? What's new?
[ He brings a paper onto the table with the instructions, points out the list of ingredients, little hooks at the ends of them, numbers. First butter and sugar. He points at the bowl. ] Hands in, this you will knead by hand.
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[ A half-shrug as he blows out a breath with puffed-up cheeks. ]
I mean that hotel thing was weird but weirdly okay? There's this guy I've been spending a lot of time with. [ And boy that is the tips of his ears getting pink so he's just gonna---] It's my birthday this month. Well, February.
[ Hi, guess who is attacking the instructions and the dough making with gusto? This kid. ]
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He also pushes aside the mentions of love language of different kind because that sounds like wallowing in less than pleasant issues and Eames thinks John needs something else right now. Something--
Hello pink ears. Details of importance, Eames files them away. Birthday celebrations coming right up. But before that: ] This guy, [ he starts with a small smile while sprinkling a little bit of flour into the mix. ] He something special? A boyfriend?
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Another clearing of his throat and a two-shoulder shrug. He doesn’t exactly have a lot of experience in this arena. That being said he can’t really deny what he’s been feeling. ]
Maybe I guess. Started out with all that bullshit back in October. He said he missed driving so we’d go out on patrols when we could. Just started hanging out more and more after it, and---I like being around him.
This is so late... I'm sorry...
[ He wouldn't push, honestly, but he wonders if John needs an advice on shit that might not matter in a dream but is still important. Young blokes with plenty enough hormones in their systems, they're not going to just hang around each other for long. There's going to be more. ]
Is he nice to you?
not a worry!
[ He doesn't exactly have the best track record so far with good things. Baby is a good thing for sure. It kind of freaks him out if he thinks about it too long. ]
He is. He shares his music he makes with me. He doesn't do that with everyone. We went to the music store together to pick out records.