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Post by NATHAN SAUNDERS on Mar 9, 2015 13:16:11 GMT
some days I am a god of thunder lifting cats
some days I walk nine paces
turn and fall
walk nine paces turn and fall
I die every single time there's a kind of intoxicating white noise that penetrates his mornings. nathan sits up with his hands bracing his head, toes curling in sheets that aren't his. dust migrate past his eyes, decorated by the strands of sunlight that peek through the blinds. the sight makes his nose itch. it's funny how he can't focus on the rest of the scenery, but he's always found luca's place to be more than a little dreary. (luca's bed's much bigger than his though, fuck that guy.) he catches his sneeze and makes a face of disgust; the room is cold, and it snaps him out of drowsiness. with a discerning eye, he turns and he peers at his sleeping companion, curled up in a ball with a face of rare peace. of course his heart leaps, but it's also because of that he forces himself to gets out of the warm bed and slips his boxers back on. he knows where the blankets are so he wears one as a cape and ventures slowly into the kitchen, where he makes a mug of black coffee for him and him alone. the steam rises as he wonders how long luca will let him stay today. it's then he picks up the paper from the kitchen table, a pen from the floor, and starts jotting down lines plucked from the top of his head on the coffee table with his legs crossed on the floor. @luca i wish i could relive my sunday mornings once more also im sorry for this mediocre bs LAIKA OF GS! |
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Post by Deleted on Mar 9, 2015 17:22:15 GMT
what wakes him is the shift of bed under weight, and the significantly more pillowy sensation that signifies more space. his head is foggy and luca barely notices the cold in his apartment. the sound of the coffee machine coming to life filters through the door and he covers his head with a pillow, and grimaces with his eyes closed because he's sore. a few minutes idly pass by, until the silence becomes deafening and he realizes he's not going to be able to go back to sleep. he slides out of bed and shrugs on some sweats, padding out to the common room where he sees nathan wrapped in a blanket with a cup of coffee. he rolls his eyes and wordlessly goes to the fridge, opens it and grabs a carton of orange juice. he holds it with both hands as he drinks, and when his throat is too cold he stops and wipes his mouth. "what are you doing?"NATHAN SAUNDERS |
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Post by NATHAN SAUNDERS on Mar 9, 2015 17:31:41 GMT
some days I am a god of thunder lifting cats
some days I walk nine paces
turn and fall
walk nine paces turn and fall
I die every single time he barely registers luca's voice, but he hears it, he knows, as he scribbles out another line wedged between a large advertisement for carpet sales and a smaller one for furniture. he groans from the bottom of his throat and nearly throws the pen at the tv. he stops though, and looks at luca, a little miffed. he looks back at the newspaper and scribbles at some article about some conflict no one cares about. "do ya have any cigs?" he tucks the strand of hair covering his piercings behind his ear, and bites his thumb, annoyed. he barely has three lines. @luca LAIKA OF GS! |
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Mar 10, 2015 18:47:27 GMT
Post by Deleted on Mar 10, 2015 18:47:27 GMT
luca grabs a pack of cigarettes from the counter and a lighter, lights two and pads over to nathan. he sits down and holds one out with a lazy hand, looking over his shoulder at the chicken scratch on the paper that's, supposedly, a rap. or the beginnings of one. the glint of metal of nathan's hair catches his eye, and he reaches out a hand to touch them. "i didn't know you hand these." he furrows his brows as he continues, almost carefully, to touch and look and touch again. NATHAN SAUNDERS |
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Mar 10, 2015 19:02:11 GMT
Post by NATHAN SAUNDERS on Mar 10, 2015 19:02:11 GMT
he mumbles a word of thanks before taking one from him. inhale. exhale. a train of smoke follows. he feels his body relaxing. it even feels a bit warmer. one look at the coffee, and he knows it's already cold.
it's not a conscious movement, but his body leans ever so slightly over to luca at his touch. the blanket slips off his shoulders, and he lets it pool around his body. now that luca's here, it's unlikely that he can finish another word. but he stares at the paper anyway, the pen tapping irregular beats.
"you like 'em?"
@luca
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Mar 10, 2015 19:17:17 GMT
Post by Deleted on Mar 10, 2015 19:17:17 GMT
"mhm." luca murmurs. he grabs a side of the blanket and halfheartedly throws in around his shoulders. "they're kinda hot on you."he pulls his hand away and puts a finger on the edge of the paper, taps it twice. "did i stop you?" music hasn't ever been too difficult for luca, so writer's block was hardly an issue. it bothered him to see nathan stuck. move, pen, move. NATHAN SAUNDERS |
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played by BOO
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Mar 10, 2015 19:37:09 GMT
Post by NATHAN SAUNDERS on Mar 10, 2015 19:37:09 GMT
"i know." he replies half heartedly, he changes one word to another on his paper so it flows better in his head. "one for every ten miles out of montreal, then i ran out of space." it now looks like a five year old has shat all over it, because nathan's handwriting has never been spectacular. but he tries, at least. he takes another drag. the air is filled with smoke, but the sun cuts through it nonetheless.
"nah, it's fine." he swats his hand away, and he leans back from his crouched position over his pathetic lyrics and turns to luca, looking impish and tired. "i'm done for now." he cranks his neck left and right.
it may just be a little heartbreaking to leave luca, actually, he thinks as he looks up at the ceiling. he really likes it here. and he'll never have be the one who has to clean it, either.
"i've been playin' with the idea of tatts, recently. i guess i can when i'm not broke."
@luca
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Post by Deleted on Mar 12, 2015 4:35:06 GMT
luca leans back a little to take it in, nathan's piercings that turned out to have such a significant meaning. was montreal that bad? or was it something industry-related that he still didn't understand? he takes a drag of his cigarette, acknowledging the urge to burn a hole in the paper for ruining his good morning, in bed, with nathan — but decides that he is most definitely an adult and taps off the ash away from his body. "y'know, when we met i figured you were the type to have a few already." that's been proved wrong many times over by now, but luca still liked to imagine what his name might look like if it was cemented on nathan's body like that. but that was a stupid, elementary notion, so he kept his mouth shut. NATHAN SAUNDERS |
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played by BOO
with 92 for
// APP
& PLOT
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Mar 14, 2015 21:40:01 GMT
Post by NATHAN SAUNDERS on Mar 14, 2015 21:40:01 GMT
he watches his cig burn nicely in front of him. it's satisfying in a way he can't quite understand, and ashes decorate luca's blanket like icing sugar. nathan takes a drag, and the grip on his throat only tightens.
"so tell me," he taps on the table absentmindedly. "what kind of person was i? in your head? your mind?" he ponders the question aloud, going so far as to tap luca's temple gently with a finger. "a wannabe gangsta with a death wish? a high school drop out turned drug dealer? a runaway?" he goes so far as to cup luca's cheek as he takes another drag.
"so go on, i'm curious."
@luca shite
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Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2015 4:30:27 GMT
"um..." nathan's movements are slightly distracting. "i dunno. all three. but you kind of carried yourself different, i guess. gave off this air of having it all figured out, y'know?" he shrugs. admittedly, he'd put nathan on some sort of pedestal before he'd gotten to know him—or, rather, different sides of him. sometimes at night he felt like someone that really understood him, and other times he felt like a stranger. it makes him sad and irritated, so he puts out his cigarette in nathan's coffee with a small frown. NATHAN SAUNDERS |
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