daybreakacademy | and we could run away. [open]

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and we could run away. [open]

WHO: Maverick Taylor and OPEN (mostly/semi).
WHAT: Maverick’s nightmares rear their ugly heads again. Time for late night stress relief.
WHEN: Night of February 20th (into the 21st) “officially”, but time is fake and nightmares happened on more than one night, so chase your bliss.
WHERE: Lumi3/outside and around.
NOTES: Smoking and swearing, as a Mav does.

( SKITTERING - closed to Imelda. )

[His feet are bare against the cold ice, and part of his brain tries to tell him that he should be slipping and splitting his head open, but there isn't time to argue because he needs to go, he needs to be faster, he needs --

crrrack.

He’s falling. The only one reaching out to him is the sharp-nailed, glowing creature he was running from in the first place...but arms still catch him. They're cold, probably from being so far beneath the ice in this dark pit, and dirty. He can't find where any of them stop being an arm, even as that one twitches with a crack and starts slithering over to him, crawling, nails scrabbling. He shouldn't open his mouth, but it's the only thing he can still move, as the cries for help rise up within him.

Maverick sits up with a yelp and an overwhelming feeling of nausea, like those fingers really had clawed their way down his throat and were stirring up his stomach, now. This room is -- weird. But it's his, still. Just the one at the academy. He’s here, and he'd yelled, but not for help, and he wasn't crying, and thank fucking god it had been years since he'd ever wet the bed from this shit. He doesn't know how much lower he can let himself sink. He runs his hand through his sleep-addled curls to try and stop it from shaking, but when that doesn't work immediately, he reaches for a pair of headphones coiled around the bedpost to clamp over his ears and -- ugh, fuck, where was his phone? He doesn't want to turn on the light… If anyone had woken up -- or was still fucking awake -- then he needed some kind of plausible deniability. Totally still fucking asleep…]

( SMOKESCREENS AND SNOWBALLS - open, around campus. )

[The fear had faded some, letting anger take its place. Adults weren't supposed to have nightmares, only little kids -- and yet there he was, eighteen years old, and waking up in the middle of the night scared out of his wits time and time again. All because of some fake bullshit his brain came up with! He needs...something real. And a goddamn smoke.

He’s already working on a second cigarette by the time he's settled into packing snow into something that is a maybe vaguely human-shaped lump? His movements are agitated and restless, punctuated now and again by a string of curses or a cloud of smoke intermingling with his breath, clear from the cold. He's gotta suck it up and build an army.

And then he's gotta take that army out with the metal bat resting on the ground beside him.]

( SORRY NOT SUBTLE - open, Lumiére 3 common area. )

[Now that he’s worked out all that anxious energy… Okay, no, he still can't fucking sleep. But at least he can come back inside and curl up on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate. He’s swapped out his bat for his laptop, drooping eyes scanning the screen as he scrolls through various, brainless sites. Mav’s got music going, but with the low volume he's set it to, someone probably has to get pretty close to recognize one of many songs by The Cure. Soothing rock.

...there are literally a dozen packets of hot chocolate resting next to him. He probably has more than enough to share, during these lazy, godless hours.]

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[If he was feeling more rambunctious, Maverick might prove him wrong on that "nobody would object" thing, objecting for the hell of it, but tonight he just watches with a wrinkled nose. Hrmn...]

It's fucking not.

[And the laptop doesn't have anything interesting on it, honestly. There's the player for the music, obviously, and the school's network ignored in the background, what seems to be the result of a google-amazon search mess where he's tabbed a dozen related things (a nonfiction book, at least on the current tab), and...a livestreamed kitten cam. What darlings.]

Ask me if I give a shit right now.

[He doesn't smile, because that's impossible, but his expression lightens just a little. There's something weirdly heartening about that attitude and he can't quite place it.]

No thanks. I'm good. [Like that was an earnest request and not just Mav being a shit.

Curiosity satisfied, Naoki hops up onto the arm of the couch and perches there like a gargoyle. At the very least he's courteous enough to pick the one furthest from him, because even if personal space isn't really a big deal he really doesn't feel like getting too close to people right now. Not that that stops him from eyeing those hot chocolate packets.]

Couldn't sleep?

[He grunts as his "request" is rebuffed, glaring another second before grudgingly deciding it's not worth it and flicking his attention back to the screen. The space...is good.]

Wow, look at the big brain on you. There's some hot water yet over there.

[He waves vaguely, not looking up.]

But if you need to fucking borrow one of my mugs, I'm gonna need something that makes getting up worthwhile. I'm working on a real nice ass indent over here.

[His brow furrows, like he's giving this an intense amount of thought. He's had to barter before, but usually the stakes were higher than a cup of hot chocolate. Moreover, he doesn't really have much to offer here, unless-- wait a minute. He can feel a plan starting to form.]

What if I just took yours?

[He doesn't move to follow up on that, but the possibility's out there now and Naoki's fairly confident he could pull it off if it came to that. Your move, stranger.]

[Enjoy the tired glare. Cute, but he's not in the mood.]

Well, I put my fucking bat back in my room, so all I got on me right now is my fucking knife, but I guess we just gotta live with consequences, don't we?

[Oh so that's how you wanna play it. Okay, that's fine. He shifts a little, trying to get comfortable and absolutely refusing to make eye contact.]

You're not going to stab me. [The amount of confidence in his voice is frankly fucking ridiculous.]

Steal my fucking hot chocolate and find out, then.

[Hos voice would be just as confident, but he's tired.]

Okay.

[With that, Naoki reaches over and sloooowly starts to make a grab for the hot cocoa, looking Mav in the eye the entire time. He's calling your bluff, dude, what are you gonna do?]

[He's going to pull out his folded knife from his pocket and flick the blade free, holding until Naoki gets juuuust a little too close. But if he does, yeah, he slashes out at Naoki's arm -- not where it's likely to do a ton of damage, of course. He's not a maniac or anything, just a man of his word!]

[He sees the knife come out but keeps pushing anyway, and inching closer and closer to the mug until Mav finally takes a swing and Naoki jerks away as fast as he can. Not fast enough, clearly, because he can feel the blade tear through the sleeve of his hoodie and nick him just below the elbow as he pulls back. Okay, he was being serious. Good to know.]

Wow. [He draws his knees up and assesses the damage. Pretty shallow, no blood that he can see. He's not even that upset honestly.] Wasn't sure if you meant it or not.

Hmph.

[Obviously, or he wouldn't have pushed so much. Man with lean forward to pick his mug back up and take a swig, using his other hand to fold the knife back up.]

I might like running my fucking mouth, but that'd be dumb shit to lie about. Dumb shit to test with strangers, too.

Lots of people make threats like that and don't follow up. I wanted to see if you would. [Satisfied that this is No Big Deal, he leans back and props his feet up on an end table.]

Besides, I don't think you could actually hurt me. I barely felt that.

[god -- ]

Are you so fucking stupid you're really gonna keep goading the guy with the knife? I did it on principle before, but you're starting to make me actually want to.

[sorry Mav, he's just Like This]

I don't need to tell you that's a bad idea, do I? [Like reaching over there knowing full well he was going to get cut wasn't also an insanely dumb thing to do.]

No, because I'm not anywhere near as fucking dumb as you apparently are. You just get what you give outta life.

[Stop being stupid, it makes him be stupid back.]

Do you need a mug or not, dickhead?

[He's too tired to get properly mad about this blatant disrespect, so all he gets for now is a pointed glance and a roll of the eyes.]

Do you know where they are? [Because it's been made abundantly clear he's not using Mav's.]

Edited 2019-02-24 06:44 (UTC)

[Blatant disrespect is Maverick's primary language. Usually he just speaks it more cheerfully. He rolls his eyes and closes his laptop before getting to his feet and wandering back towards his room -- taking the laptop with him, of course, because this jerk tries to steal hot chocolate, he could definitely try to steal a computer. His drink also goes with him. Can't trust him.

Maverick is soon back with another mug that he holds out for Naoki.]

You're paying with your company, so don't make me fucking regret it.

[He takes the mug and turns it over in his hands, like it's a puzzle that he has to solve. What a weird dumb thing to own and have in your living space. Naoki mouths the words to himself before glancing back up at Maverick.]

You have a cat? [Gotta admit, he really doesn't seem like the type.]

[Sighhhh... Maybe he shouldn't have made the price his company.]

I do. She's with her other dad. She's a partial custody cat.

[Should've thought about that before giving him the cat mug, motherfucker.]

Must be hard on her. I hope it works out.

[He slides back down onto his feet and loops around the back of the couch, making his way towards where he's pretty sure the kitchen is and snatching a packet of mix with his free hand.]

Don't wait up. [With that, he vanishes around the corner.

And then comes back not even a minute later to grab a second packet. Oops.]

[Bold of you to assume he has any mugs that aren't cat mugs. The one he's using has a cat, too...and any others are either at his mom's place in Soleil or adorable.

...wh]

Did you fucking snort that first one? You can't have fucked it up.

[how would you even!!!]

I ate it. [No hesitation, no embarrassment, like that's the most normal thing in the world. He offers a big ol' shrug.]

Wanted to see how it would taste. [Not great, it turns out. Kind of salty. Not bad either, though.]

Fucking hell, the idiots in this place have no concept of impulse control.

[He's not surprised -- and he's glad he didn't snort it!!! But like...wow.]

It's like you've never had hot chocolate before.

[The judgment doesn't sting as much as it probably should, mostly because he's kind of right. Impulse control is one of those things you could afford to get rid of, living the way he used to. Naoki wipes a stray smear of powder from his mouth and shrugs.]

I haven't. Not in a long time, anyway. [He can remember what it tastes like, almost, but that's about it.]

[Pause. Oh.]

Well that's just fucking depressing.

[Mav pushes himself up again, draining the last from his own cup and taking another packet for himself. Apparently he's coming with to babysit.]

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