|
TXT: ([Address] doors open come on in)
It's relaxation week for Sturm. Her life has been brutal and hectic lately, and - outside of her regular visits to the gym - she's been making an active attempt to avoid putting herself into stressful situations. In this case, that means spending a lot of time on the couch and listening to her kickass stereo system while getting high and playing games that Lux and Teagan stole for her on the Switch. Y'know. That Lux and Teagan stole for her.
... but she's expecting Glitch tonight, so she's showered, fixed up her hair, changed into clothes that are presentable for company - and now the Jotunn's sitting on the couch in her street clothes with both feet propped up on an equally horribly upholstered chair. There's a pot of coffee on in the kitchen, and the speakers are blaring the opening riff of some punk - no, wait. It's ska - song.
Glitch shows up not too much later, wearing his usual black and white getup. He does take his shades off once he's indoors, showing his pixelated eyes, and he lifts a hand in greeting. "Hey," he beeps, before glancing over at the speakers with interest. "Is that Streetlight Manifesto?"
"Hey." Sturm sits up fully, looking over the back of the couch at the little pixel sprite. She fixes him with a nod as she pulls herself up from the very comfortable position with a bit of effort. She's not exactly sore from the fight she had with Vorpal, but the bruises are notable. She looks between Glitch and the speaker - quirking an eyebrow as the corner of her mouth twitches. "Good ear. Lots of people say Catch 22 did Keasbey better, but I'll follow Tomas Kalnoky into hell. So. This is a Streelight Manifesto house." Beat. "You want a cup of coffee? I have cream and sugar this time."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sk9RRnpFg24
Glitch nods, looking pleased he got it right as he moseys further into the place, glancing around. "Lucky guess. I've only heard Everything Went Numb. Listened to it a lot though." He nods firmly. "Coffee's good. I like caffeine. Usually do a cola. It's..." He wheels a hand in the air. "Familiar. You okay after yesterday? Even I don't try and fight Vorpal barehanded, you know."
"Coke is a guilty pleasure - but all I've got is Coke Zero, unfortunately." She flashes an apologetic look as she gets up off the couch entirely, and ambles towards Glitch's direction - and then eventually the kitchen. "There oughta be some in the cooler if that's cool. If not, I'll get you a mug and you can fix up your coffee however you like it." She slides past Glitch - the kitchen is small, and Sturm looks a little bit silly in the enclosed space. "Keasbey Nights was a re-release of some Catch 22 songs that Tom wrote in the 90's before he left the band. They recorded it after Everything Went Numb, so it seems like a bit of an odd departure for their sound because they were technically going backwards."
She opens up the cabinet with all her ridiculous novelty mugs in it. Surely Glitch would have little-to-no trouble finding at least one that suits his personality. Most of them look to have been thrift store finds and have silly slogans and designs.
Glitch blinks a moment as she saunters right at him, then glances away a bit awkwardly when he realizes she's squeezing past into the kitchen. He at least easily slips out of the way, being a lot shorter. Glitch is only picky about specific things, so he nonchalantly reaches into the cabinet after Sturm and pulls out a mug at random, one that says "SISTERS" in huge flowy script with some flowers. "Coffee sounds good right now. You have herb, right?" There's an awkward silence for a bit.
She leans backwards onto the countertop, fetching the coffee pot and filling Glitch's not-so-aptly chosen mug before taking the bag of granulated sugar down from on top of the cabinet. "Yeah, of course. Nothin' as fancy as the shit in that little vape pen of yours, but I've got a pipe in the front room and enough to share - so long as you cover the shit next time, yeah?" She tilts her head to the side, and a flash of something is visible in her eyes - but not necessarily for long enough to get a clear read on it.
Glitch waves a hand. "It's not that fancy," he says, before taking a sip. "Just house wax. It's like shake. Cheaper than the actual fancy shit." He sips at his coffee. "I just...like using the pen. Feels better using the battery than a flame. But... I also just like to get fucking stoned. And yeah, I'll get you, no problem," he beeps. What little veneer of social grace he has flickers away for just a second as he stares back at Sturm flatly, trying for a moment to catch that flash, but not seeming to figure anything out.
"Huh. I just assumed that those little pens used different shit. Like. Oil or... whatever the fuck you put in a vape." She shrugs, pouring herself a cup of coffee in a mug that features an old silver age 'Doom Patrol' comic cover plastered on the side. Then she slides past Glitch again - heading back towards the den. "... also, it probably seemed like I was dodging your question about the fight yesterday. Was just trying to make sure I was a decent hostess before I started talking about fighting." She offers a little snort-laugh. "Yeah, I'm good. Can take a punch like a motherfucker - and believe me when I say that I'd do a helluva lot worse if we were crossing blades."
"It's not like the nicotine vapes. You can get like, loose oil or liquid, but solid concentrate's just more efficient. It's basically just really pure hash. The same shit people use for dabs." There's a brief blush as he's pushed past again before he follows her back out, sipping at his coffee. "It did kinda sound like you were doodging it. But yeah, figured you were good for some hits. If you just want to take turns swinging without thinking about it too much, I'll spar you too. Long as I get a stick or something."
"Dope." Knowing what signs to look for - like the crinkle at the corner of her eyes, and the way her frown wobbles - Glitch has an easier time catching the flash of amusement on the stony Jotunn's features when it happens this time. She plops onto the couch - which groans under her weight - and throws her feet up onto a nearby pice of furnature before gesturing for Glitch to join her. "Would probably be down for that. Just don't be surprised if I ring your bell a little bit. You might want headgear - and a mouth guard - too, honestly. Don't know what Jackie's thinking not wearing one. I like my fuckin' teeth when they're inside my head."
He wanders over to the couch easily enough, looking more relaxed and less awkward himself now that he can tell he's really on the stony and stormy giant's good side. "I can take a hit. Should probably have a healer on deck but taking hits is the whole point. Vorpal's... a little hard to understand, sometimes." The Sprite plops himself down next to Sturm and sprawls back comfortably, setting his coffee down nearby. "What is it you're looking to get out of it, though...?"
"She and I got into some of it last night in-between punches - but I dunno if you could hear the chatter from a distance." Sturm leans over to fetch a green water pipe, and a tupperware container out from under the coffee table. "Mostly what I," she works her jaw and continues on, "like about sparring with someone is that it's... a way that I can feel like I'm closer to a person in a controlled environment. We're testing one another's limits - and there's a certain level of comfort in the idea that the worst that might happen is physically getting hurt."
She finishes packing the bowl, and then passes the bong - along with a tie-dye gas station lighter - over to Glitch. Guests first, right?
Glitch graciously accepts the paraphernalia, and fits it to his mouth to spark up. He hauls in a nice big hit, his chest expanding a bit more than it looks like it should, before he rolls his head back and smoothly exhales an enormous plume of smoke. It's all very slick, except for the intense coughing fit he has right after. "Hgh. That's...a good way to look at it. Sometimes it's hard for me to tell what I want from fighting. Part of me wants more control. More restriction. Patience. Part of me wants the opposite. To just let loose, to find out what I can..." He trails off. "It's...a good fight is like that. It's real. It's raw. Another will against your own, like you were saying. Doing that without fear breathing down your neck is nice."
Sturm's a bit slower to take her own hit - trying to at least focus on what Glitch's words for a little bit before filling the room with the satisfying sound of bubbles, and then exhaling a plume of her own straight up into the air so as not to blow it in the sprite's face by accident. She nods along for a second. "Surprised to hear you say that. Not like I'm the best read in town, but I'd have figured your idea of a "test of will" was... playing a video game on the internet." She laughs - which turns into a cough. "No offense. Most folks who hit stuff for a living just aren't... as subtle about it."
Glitch actually looks surprised, glancing over at her at that comment. And then he smiles, though there's something a bit more devious in it than just pride. "Video games are not a test of will for me," he beeps, keeping his gaze on hers. "They're what I'm made of." He's quiet for a moment, thinking. "The last game you played was...Bastion, right?"
Whatever there might be in Glitch's smile is completely lost on Sturm. Most of her ability to read a person comes from either decoding their words - or through prolonged exposure to their mannerisms. "That's fair. You're Summer, so obviously you're a fighter - but that can mean more than just physical pursuits. That's all I meant by it." Beat. "... but yeah. I picked it up on the switch for like... two dollars. It was fun - but it was heavy. Why?"
Glitch nods. He is tough to read, and takes study even for keenly aware people such as Teagan. But his posture is relaxed. As Sturm stares, she gets a good look at his peculiar mien, the little bits and pixels of him flickering and scrambling near the edges of his brow and chin. He lazily reaches over for the bong again to take another nice, deep hit, this time managing to not cough."What was your impression of the main character? The Kid?"
"Most people think silent protagonists are just a blank space for players to slot into, right?" Sturm takes another hit, and blows smoke off to the side. "There's a long-standing tradition in comics of introducing the audience to the setting by writing in a character who comes into the bullshit just as cold as they do - but I find it refreshing that The Kid just picks up his hammer and starts swinging. Questions later, sure, but the world is ending and he's got shit to do and miles to go before he sleeps." She quirks a brow. "Not sure I follow why you're asking, though?"
Glitch (He/They)Yesterday at 11:31 PM
Glitch thinks a moment. "Yeah, but that silence is its own personality. Like you were saying. The kid is silent. Determined. Defined solely by his task. I don't know how far back you go, but most older games didn't have time or space for tutorials and cut-scenes. The Kid is your usual video game hero. It goes back far, to Link, to Loto, to the very first ciphers and characters in rogue...the hero is just there to play the game."
He lets that hang for a moment. "And what do you do when you play the game?"
"Definitely not that far back. Never had money for arcades or consoles - but what do you mean?" Her brow furrows. "... play the game. Am I... supposed to be doing something else?"
Glitch sits forward. "I mean what you do in the game. In most video games. You kill. You kill monsters. Enemies. Whatever is in front of you, whatever is between you and the goal. Only traversing terrain is more common." He fixes her with a look. Then he stands up, unzips his jacket, and tugs up the black shirt underneath to bare his abdomen. While he is impressively lean, it's the tangled mass of scars that stand out, radiating out from his belly like lightning. Their edges flicker and scramble more than the rest of him, his 'corruption' seemingly concentrated in the scars. "I was them. I was the Kid. I did the sort of things he does."
"That's fair - and I didn't mean to imply anything about what shit might've been like for you, but also... The Kid builds stuff, too." Sturm leans back, sinking deeper into the couch - and her sullen gaze bores into Glitch when she aims it his way. "Sure, he kills stuff... but. Violence is a tool to be deployed when he has no alternative. He destroys - yeah, weird Monsters - but the game's a metaphor for, like, imperialism and classism and systemic racism and shit? Those things are already broken about the world - and... when he's done fighting, he helps rebuild it into something better." Beat. "The cool thing about the hammer is that - like - while you can use it as a weapon, it's also a tool, right? So. If you were like The Kid, then I imagine you aren't all bad."
Glitch blinks, and stares. For a second it might look like he's upset. Then his pixelated mouth actually drops open. "Huh. Uh." Glancing away, he rubs at the back of his head. "Shit, Sturm, that's...one of the nicest things someone's said to me." He nods and closes his eyes. "Thanks. Like...here, gimme another hit,"" he beeps, reaching over for the equipment. "I don't feel guilty about what I did in the Game World," he beeps. "I had no choice. Literally no choice. I was just trying to tell you that...killing's all I did. Once I was on the other side of the screen, I wasn't pushing buttons, I was the one running and jumping."
He waves a hand and shakes his head. "And I'm not...okay, I'm pretty stoned, but I'm not just trying to shoot you down. Isn't everything you make, in that game, in most games...just tools for more violence? You craft weapons, and potions. Powerups. Stat buffs."
"Well. The metaphor isn't completely perfect," she laughs as she passes the bong. "... and I dunno if you've gotten to the end, but you have to pick between hitting the reset button on the world - taking things back to how they were and hoping it turns out differently - and letting the system crumble so that you can rebuild it from the ground up. That's the part I mean. Once the revolution's over, you gotta rebuild right?" She watches him for a bit longer - the way his mien moves with the pixelation. "... I get you, though. We fought a lot where I was, too - and it wasn't the fun kinda shit like Vorpal and I got into."
Glitch nods in satisfaction. "I haven't. I don't mind the spoilers though, that's just on me for not having time." He's quiet, mulling her words over. "It's...easier to destroy than create. I'm still not very good at making things. But I'm not ashamed, you know. Some things need to be destroyed. Some things need to be stopped, so people don't suffer." There's a somewhat intense, far-off look in his eyes. "Letting it reset...that's the opposite of what I want."
"Exactly." Sturm lays her head back, resting it on the back of the couch so she can better stare up at the ceiling. "That's actually one of the first things I had to... learn how to do when I got back. Over There I was a force of nature. Was big, violent, unstoppable." Her brow furrows, and she seems to sober a tad. "Was strong enough that I had to actively try not to break things or hurt people - and I still struggle with it sometimes. It's so easy to let loose and..." Throw a table through a wall? Lift your friend up by the scruff of their jacket? "Well. Painting has really helped me with remembering to be delicate." Beat. "It's rarely comfortable, but there is strength in growth - and sometimes things need to break before they're ready to get fixed."
Glitch nods firm. "Yeah. A force of nature. Mmn." He nods. "The games help me. Not all of them are...intense. I like RPGs. Games where you can just immerse yourself. Explore. Uh. And I guess I have my Animal Crossing town. That's sort of creative." He looks almost bashful. "But yeah. Like you said. Growth. I'm not just...fighting for the sake of fighting, anymore. I do give a shit about the things I'm protecting. Just..." He glances at her side-eyed. "It's...sometimes I have the opposite problem of feeling guilty. Sometimes it just feels really, really right. Too right."
"That's good. Glad they help," Sturm looks over and fixes the little Sprite with a - probably for the first time - straight-up smile. "You seem to talk about them a lot, but it really did help - when we talked for the first time with Teagan - where you called me a main character. So," she shrugs - looking off to the side. "I'm glad you shared that with me. Probably would've fucked off back to Texas otherwise."
When she looks back, her expression is twisted and scrunched. "... get that, too, though. Don't have any advice for that, unfortunately."
Glitch returns the smile, too stoned and vibing to keep up his usual emo facade. "Heh. Don't worry about it, as long as I can talk about this kinda shit with you without scaring you off. And shit, like, you know what videogames are. You know how many fuckin' Freeholds there are out there where every. single. motherfucker. is just like..." He sucks in a breath and affects a nasally, droning voice of ridiculousness. "I'm frrrrrom the times of old, and I don't understand anything more complicated than the printing press, even though I've been living in Los Angeles for like five fucking yeeeeears...."
Sturm's troubled expression melts and gives way to a very stoned giggle. "Jesus, I know right? Texas was so goddamned bad - especially Nacogdoches. Some real crusty old fuckers out that way." The giggle grows into a laugh - like, an honest fuckin' laugh. It's boisterous and excited. Not a side Sturm often shows - outside of fighting.
"You like metal at all, by the way? 'Cause I'm thinking about switching up the album. Any genre preferences?"
Glitch snorts at that honest laugh, managing a pixelated grin, especially at that last question. "You have The Last In Line?" he asks, not having to think very hard about it. "Because I already thought you were chill, but I'm starting to really like you. If you've got that on hand too..."
"... are you fuckin' kidding? I have everything Ronnie James Dio ever even laid a finger on." She laughs again, getting up and moving towards a big cardboard box of records that's currently stashed in the corner. "Even Elf, man. I hitchhiked like 10 hours across Texas to see him play with Sabbath at one of his last live shows. Even have a t-shirt from the show. Barely had enough to pay rent, but I was not leaving that venue without one."
She flips the Streetlight album back into it's slipcase, and then sets the needle to the next pick.
Glitch actually laughs. "Aw shit. You're way more hardcore than me. I just had a hand me down that I listened to over and over again." He eyes Sturm in a whole new light, the earlier awkwardness he had shed. "I'm impressed," he beeps out. Then the music starts and he leans back against the couch, eyes lidded, arms splayed out. Letting the intro wash over him, he can't help but smile at the gentle melody. His lips move in sync with the lyrics, silently matching them as he listens:
- We're a ship without a storm, cold without the warm,
- Light inside the Darkness that it needs, yeah
- We're a laugh without the tear, hope without the fear,
- We are coming...
There is a moment of very real restraint from Sturm, because the urge to howl along with the next word is strong as fuck.
- Hooooooooooooooome.
"Let me tell you there is nothing worse than being made of fuckin' ice in 115 degree heat, and trying to cram your giant-ass self into the cabin of a truck with no air conditioning and a fuckin' crazy-eyed driver who might have just done a bump at the last gas station before you hit the highway." She nods along to the beat when the song kicks up, and crosses back over to the couch. Weed really does wonders to mellow Sturm out, huh. She plops down next to Glitch. "Got some old t-shirts from shows that don't fit anymore - but I can't bring myself to cut them into crops or tanks. So. You can poke through 'em and see if there's anything you want. I'd rather they go to a good home..."
Glitch nods to Sturm at her tales, and his eyes light up. "Shit, are you trying to butter me up? I'll take a fuckin' Dio shirt, thanks." He looks at her with a smile and relaxes as the lyrics kick back in now that the song's ignited into full metal, moving his mouth along with the music.
- We're after the witch, we may never ever ever come home
- But the magic that we'll feel is worth a lifetime
- We're all born upon the cross, we're the throw before the toss
- You can release yourself, but the only way
- is doooooooooooooooooooooooooown
"Well. Not trying to." She does a pretty good job of keeping her expression under wraps, but it's easy to read her once you already know the tells. She's amused at Glitch's excitement, and it's contageous. She hums along - only really stopping to give a brief laugh at Glitch's lip syncing. "Remind me later, though - they're all in the other room and I really don't wanna fuckin' get up right now. Not just Dio shit, either - tons of metal bands."
Glitch murmurs at that, stopping just short of resting his head on the Ogre's shoulder (or upper arm or elbow, due to size differences), but lets it loll on the couch right next to her with a flickering smile of contentment. Stoned and enjoying it. "I might take a bunch of your shirts. If they fit me." He lets his eyelids droop a bit as the song continues. It's something familiar, and now something shared. "Does getting stoned and listening to music count as creative?"
"Don't make me impose a limit." It's a playfully chiding remark. "Some of them are already spoken for, so I can't say they're all free for the taking, but... yeah. Definitely don't mind seeing them get a new life with someone whose arms and shoulders aren't," she flexes for emphasis - deadpan (or maybe sleepy) look on her face. "So goddamned big." She leans her head back again, looking at the ceiling with a small smile. "Unfortunately I'm not sure it counts as creative, but I do think we should get points for effort anyway."
Glitch's eyes go wide in clear appreciation at the flex, staring at the superhuman physique Sturm's displaying, and tries not to let his mouth hang open too much. "So goddamn big," he agrees, chin dipping. "Good, I like getting points. Fuck, I'm stoned," he adds with a trill that might be a giggle. "And yeah, don't worry, I won't take all your clothes."
"Yeahhhhhhh, same." Beat. "The stoned thing, not the points thing." She notices the expression and reaches over, hooking an icy digit under Glitch's chin - deadpan persisting through the entire action as she does it - and gently closes his mouth the rest of the way. She makes it though until her arms is back at her side, and then the mask drops from her face, and she cracks into another giggle.
Glitch stares at the approaching finger in confusion, cheeks pink a moment, and then blushes further when he realizes what she's doing and how he's loooked. But when she giggles he laughs too, and reaches over to nudge one of her arms playfully in return, before looking impressed again. "Damn, you're solid. That's..."
She wrangles her stoned giggling back under control, and shrugs at his statement. "Yeah. Do a bit of working out, y'know?" Then she yawns - and all her sharp, icy teeth are visible. "That one snuck up on me. Guess I might be more tired than I thought." She rolls her shoulders a bit - creating distance between her and Glitch as she stands up to do some more stretching.
Glitch nods, and stands, a bit slowly and with a bit of a wobble. "It's later than I thought. I should probably head out, let you crash," he murmurs, wriggling his jacket down into place and adjusting his shirt. "This was nice. I'll bring my stuff next time..."
"Dope." There's that amused little twitch at the corner of her mouth again. "Yeah, we should definitely do this soon-ish. It's nice to relax a bit, and just shoot the shit every now and again." Beat. "... and we could spar as well. Just. Not here. Place is beat up enough as-is without us breaking shit in the process."
|