[And Deimos gets up from the couch, not bothering to slip on pants as he makes his way over to the kitchen in nothing but a tank-top and his briefs. He wonders what could be bothering Cain as he pours the whiskey into two glasses. That's a question he'll probably never get the answer to. At least not at the root of the problem. Cain's irritation usually stems from a core, branching out to what could be considered minor problems. Deimos has learned this from months of silent observation and being close with Cain. He's also come to accept that there are parts of Cain that won't open up and that the best way to avoid Cain's full wrath is to roll with the punches, or anticipate what's going to calm the other down.
Two glasses full of whiskey and Deimos patiently waiting on top of the counter for Cain to come home should do the trick.]
[The aggravation has steadily built into a mountain throughout the journey from Loki and Jason's place back home. The night itself was a wash - there were some elevated moments, smoking with Heine and sky-gazing star-talk with Fitz, but the rest has managed to chafe down his nerves to a granular edge. He's not even sure what he's irritated at anymore, whether it's stemmed all from Jason's reprimand or a dumb, humiliating mishap with plates of food.
Either way, Cain's posture is stiff as he comes through the door at last, making a beeline for the glasses of whiskey. He's still in the night's gear: a bright jacket, bright sneakers, black pants. He sheds the jacket over the back of a chair, and then he glances toward Giovanni's door.]
You know if he's home? [He's usually not, but.] What've you been doing?
[He looks up as Cain enters the door, sitting up a little straighter when the other walks over to the kitchen to access the tension. Cain's stiff, showing signs of jagged irritation that wants to find fault with something or crack entirely to relieve the pressure. As Cain speaks, Deimos continues to gauge how the other is faring, ready to intercept and dodge whatever Cain might throw his way.
The first question gets a soft shake of his head. No, Giovanni isn't home. He isn't sure where the other went but he hadn't heard any signs of life coming from their roommate's room. As for the second question, Deimos takes a deep breath and turns his attention to the couch.]
Nothing much. [That's the truth, he doesn't have friends or anything to do to occupy the time except-] Was trying to see if I could use my powers. Starting to think I don't have any. [Ha.]
[He picks up one of the glasses and drains it in a few swallows, then sets it down and leans his hip up against the counter. The whole world sways slightly. He's still a bit drunk from earlier, but sobering, a slow process. The whiskey will help tip him back toward intoxication.]
What? Everyone has powers. Just haven't figured it out yet. [Cain pours himself another glass and walks across the room, dropping down onto the couch.] They said it usually happens after a strong emotion. Dumb reason, I know.
[Deimos follows, jumping down from the counter and grabbing his glass and the bottle. He sets the bottle on the coffee table, standing in front of the couch as he listens to what Cain has to say about powers.]
Mmm.
[Cain's probably right, he hasn't found the right catalyst for using his powers. Not yet anyways. Humming thoughtfully, he brings his glass up to his lips for a large gulp before settling down on the other side of the couch. In true Deimos fashion, he makes sure to take up as little space possible- yielding most of the couch to Cain. Habit's die hard and will probably die harder with the conundrum going on in their relationship.
[On the couch, Cain brings up one of his legs. He's not taking up the whole length of the cushions, but it doesn't escape his notice how Deimos squirrels himself to one side up against the arm. That's just like him.
At the question, a brief frown tugs across his mouth.]
Yeah, well. Some asshole pissed me off. [Withdrawing the vape pen from his pocket, cartridge of cannabis oil still inside it, he holds it up so Deimos can see.] Tried to take my weed and throw it off a building, just 'cause he didn't think I should be high. Like he has a fuckin' say in what I do.
Malone? [Sounds fake. Who the hell would call themselves Matches Malone?] That's a dumb name.
[He shakes his head, he hasn't met a whole lot of people in this world and the ones he has met stand out in his mind as assholes, blondes that make his hear flutter, or those who tried to dig deeper into his motives for stealing. Despite the dumb name he's hearing, he is interested in finding out more about this man. After all, he's trying to boss around Cain and that's never went well for any other fighter so why does this guy think he can be the top dog?
Leaning forward just a little, to let Cain know he wants to know more, he takes another large sip of his whiskey.]
Nope. But I told him I wouldn't spread that shit around.
[A glimpse into Cain's strange, loyal mindset: even though Jason's pissed him off with this, he doesn't intend to share his real name out of spite after being trusted with it. He can lie all day, but this he understands.]
He's the guy who got me into the fighting rings. Showed me how to fight better in general. 'Cause the people here aren't like what we dealt with back on the ship. [Stronger, more experienced, sometimes enhanced.] That doesn't mean I'm gonna do what he says. It's my business.
[He presses a button, turning the vape pen on.] You ever tried weed?
[Deimos won't ask for Malone's real name, he understands the whole keeping your identity safe. What he doesn't understand is Cain's willingness to protect this stranger. Even if this jackass showed Cain the ropes of the fighting rings, it doesn't necessarily mean Cain owed Malone loyalty. Then again, does Deimos really know anything about loyalty? Oh well, he isn't going to look too much into it. Not now.
Even if there is a strange sense in irony of the situation.]
No. Really only drink. [He rarely smokes, only doing so out of social niceties with the other fighters. Deimos points to the vape pen.] Thought that asshole threw it off the roof?
[Cain looks down at the pen before lifting it to his lips, inhaling the vapor. It's exhaled away from Deimos on the couch, out toward the room in an opaque cloud. He doesn't answer until he's done.]
Nah. That's my power. [There's no point concealing it, not when they're fighting on the same side in this place. And there are others who know. In fact, it may even be stated somewhere on the network -- he doesn't care.] Here, watch this.
[He lifts a hand, focusing on the bottle of whiskey -- quicker than a blink, it vanishes and reappears in his hand, brandished with a shake. The blue glow of his chest gradually fades.]
[Cain's power gets a look of awe and bewilderment out of Deimos. No doubt about it, it is pretty fucking cool. It even faintly reminds him of watching Cain and Abel disappearing only to reappear in the middle of space. But he doesn't comment on that.]
Fancy. [And then jokingly;] Why didn't you blink him off the roof after?
[Yes, he's made that connection already. Please don't remind him of the irony.]
Can't move things that big. Trust me, I've tried. [Not Jason over a rooftop, but -- other efforts. He's practiced.] If you want, I can try making you really angry to see if it triggers your power.
[That's a bad idea. The last time Deimos was angry... Cain ended up getting betrayed. Besides that how did Cain intend to make him angry? The idea isn't only bad but it terrifies him a little. Enough so that his position in the small corner of the couch shifts to that of caution, on guard for whatever Cain might throw his way.]
[Catching onto the signal posed by Deimos' body language, he sets the whiskey bottle down onto the table with a clatter. And then withdraws, vape pen tucked briefly between lips for one last drag before he thumbs the button to turn it off.]
Won't do it, so you don't have to act like I'm going to bite your head off.
[His jaw tightens, and he looks Deimos over again. It's not a decision Cain makes necessarily so he'll relax. A part of him is conflicted over the frustration he's harboring for Deimos exposing him to Abel, but... it's too muddled up. It happened, and that's that. He doesn't even know how to begin to address it.]
That's how I figured it out, though. Some asshole pissed me off when I first showed up, cornered me in the kitchen, and I freaked out. It was dumb. I was already on edge 'cause of the drugs, not the ones they usually give us, but some party pill. [Cain reaches for his glass of whiskey and drinks off the lip.] Whatever happens, you'll figure it out somehow. All of us do.
His body eases up a bit, a silent relief that Cain isn't going to start beating the shit out of him or cornering him with some ill-gotten words meant to pull him high up and push him off a cliff. They've already been there, or close to that scenario. Deimos doesn't want to ever experience that all consuming anger towards Cain again if he can help it.
He rolls the glass between his hands, passing it back and forth as he slowly brings down the walls he hastily put up. He had no right to act like this. Well, that's not entirely true. He has every right to act like this but they aren't going to get anywhere without rebuilding that trust.
Deimos doesn't know where to start]
Thank you for helping me out.
[With everything. Helping him out on his arrival, seeing as Cain had a harsh first time and helping him get out of the safehouse faster.]
I just feel- [Scared? Lost? Uneasy? Powerless?] Vulnerable not knowing.
[Vulnerability of emotions are completely different than being somewhat physically naked. Cain can attest to that. As Deimos says what he does, he leans back into the sofa with a sigh, head tipped back, surrendering to the heady rush of both marijuana and alcohol.]
Not a big deal.
[Is it? Cain's not even certain of what he says, but he feels... relaxed. Better for having come down and shared his frustrations with Deimos.]
Like I said, you'll figure it out. Bet it'll be badass, like throwing a knife and never missing. Or making knives appear out of thin air. [So many knives.] What would you want it to be?
[Helping out is a big deal. Even if it means they're still skirting around the elephant in the room.]
I already throw knives without missing.
[He states, as if this skill were a matter of fact and not a superpower. Obviously Deimos doesn't hit every mark but he gathers hitting the bullseye every time would be quite boring. He'd have to find a new hobby beyond knives and that's just unacceptable in Deimos' mind. So what would he want it to be? He bites down on his lip and considers the question.]
Making knives appear out of thin air. [Or- his voice sounds a little more excited by the next idea-] Turning my fingers into knives.
[He takes another sip of his drink, masking his embarrassment.]
[He chokes on his drink at the dirty humor, quietly coughing to hide how fast Cain's got his heart beating. They've always had their little inside jokes and quips (mostly Cain saying them to egg on other fighters while Deimos laughs on the sidelines) but this one still caught him off guard. Thankfully he isn't actually choking so his recovery is swift with a raspy;]
Some people are into that. [Quickly to clarify:] Not me though.
[He'll take being known as the creep with the knife but not the creep who wants a bloody asshole.]
[He's grinning broadly, caught in the humor of the moment. Over the course of these handful of days since Deimos moved into his place, it's become easier to fall back on the normal dynamic of their tenuous relationship -- the major change becoming the fact he hasn't ordered Deimos around. Now, they're just roommates. It's weird. But Cain feels comfortable, loose from the drugs and alcohol, so he doesn't get hung up on it.]
Hey, think you'd ever wanna go get something pierced? Saw this guy at work with a ring in his lip. I've only ever had my ear pierced, so... [He shrugs.] Figured, why not?
[While they may be skirting around their issues, Deimos has noticed the change in the way Cain treats him. Regarded more as a friend than someone to boss around. Likewise, there's a noticeable change in Deimos- he isn't substituting Cain's shadow with his own body. Sure Cain's dragged him along to places but Deimos is slowly starting to make his own friends and find his own vibe in their new home. Freedom is truly refreshing.]
Piercings? [Curiosity has him speaking up.] Yeah. I've always wanted one. You got a place in mind?
[He turns a look on Deimos, discovering something about the other fighter for the first time. Not that it's much of a surprise. They barely know much as it is.]
And, not yet. I gotta do some research to find a good place.
[A vague but harmless answer. With the way he knowingly smiles at Cain, it's clear the other fighter won't get more out of him. At least it's safe to assume he means his ears. Or a simple place like his eyebrows or lip. Simple.]
Body mods are popular, shouldn't be too hard to find a place. I'll help look into some places too.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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i picked some more up on my way home
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lets drink it
[ALL OF IT.]
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i'll pour us some glasses
see you soon
[And Deimos gets up from the couch, not bothering to slip on pants as he makes his way over to the kitchen in nothing but a tank-top and his briefs. He wonders what could be bothering Cain as he pours the whiskey into two glasses. That's a question he'll probably never get the answer to. At least not at the root of the problem. Cain's irritation usually stems from a core, branching out to what could be considered minor problems. Deimos has learned this from months of silent observation and being close with Cain. He's also come to accept that there are parts of Cain that won't open up and that the best way to avoid Cain's full wrath is to roll with the punches, or anticipate what's going to calm the other down.
Two glasses full of whiskey and Deimos patiently waiting on top of the counter for Cain to come home should do the trick.]
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Either way, Cain's posture is stiff as he comes through the door at last, making a beeline for the glasses of whiskey. He's still in the night's gear: a bright jacket, bright sneakers, black pants. He sheds the jacket over the back of a chair, and then he glances toward Giovanni's door.]
You know if he's home? [He's usually not, but.] What've you been doing?
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The first question gets a soft shake of his head. No, Giovanni isn't home. He isn't sure where the other went but he hadn't heard any signs of life coming from their roommate's room. As for the second question, Deimos takes a deep breath and turns his attention to the couch.]
Nothing much. [That's the truth, he doesn't have friends or anything to do to occupy the time except-] Was trying to see if I could use my powers. Starting to think I don't have any. [Ha.]
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What? Everyone has powers. Just haven't figured it out yet. [Cain pours himself another glass and walks across the room, dropping down onto the couch.] They said it usually happens after a strong emotion. Dumb reason, I know.
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Mmm.
[Cain's probably right, he hasn't found the right catalyst for using his powers. Not yet anyways. Humming thoughtfully, he brings his glass up to his lips for a large gulp before settling down on the other side of the couch. In true Deimos fashion, he makes sure to take up as little space possible- yielding most of the couch to Cain. Habit's die hard and will probably die harder with the conundrum going on in their relationship.
Speaking of which, and strong emotions-]
You're home earlier than I thought you'd be.
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At the question, a brief frown tugs across his mouth.]
Yeah, well. Some asshole pissed me off. [Withdrawing the vape pen from his pocket, cartridge of cannabis oil still inside it, he holds it up so Deimos can see.] Tried to take my weed and throw it off a building, just 'cause he didn't think I should be high. Like he has a fuckin' say in what I do.
... Goes by Matches Malone. You guys met?
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[He shakes his head, he hasn't met a whole lot of people in this world and the ones he has met stand out in his mind as assholes, blondes that make his hear flutter, or those who tried to dig deeper into his motives for stealing. Despite the dumb name he's hearing, he is interested in finding out more about this man. After all, he's trying to boss around Cain and that's never went well for any other fighter so why does this guy think he can be the top dog?
Leaning forward just a little, to let Cain know he wants to know more, he takes another large sip of his whiskey.]
That's not his real name, is it?
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[A glimpse into Cain's strange, loyal mindset: even though Jason's pissed him off with this, he doesn't intend to share his real name out of spite after being trusted with it. He can lie all day, but this he understands.]
He's the guy who got me into the fighting rings. Showed me how to fight better in general. 'Cause the people here aren't like what we dealt with back on the ship. [Stronger, more experienced, sometimes enhanced.] That doesn't mean I'm gonna do what he says. It's my business.
[He presses a button, turning the vape pen on.] You ever tried weed?
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Even if there is a strange sense in irony of the situation.]
No. Really only drink. [He rarely smokes, only doing so out of social niceties with the other fighters. Deimos points to the vape pen.] Thought that asshole threw it off the roof?
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[Cain looks down at the pen before lifting it to his lips, inhaling the vapor. It's exhaled away from Deimos on the couch, out toward the room in an opaque cloud. He doesn't answer until he's done.]
Nah. That's my power. [There's no point concealing it, not when they're fighting on the same side in this place. And there are others who know. In fact, it may even be stated somewhere on the network -- he doesn't care.] Here, watch this.
[He lifts a hand, focusing on the bottle of whiskey -- quicker than a blink, it vanishes and reappears in his hand, brandished with a shake. The blue glow of his chest gradually fades.]
Pretty fuckin' cool, huh?
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Fancy. [And then jokingly;] Why didn't you blink him off the roof after?
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Can't move things that big. Trust me, I've tried. [Not Jason over a rooftop, but -- other efforts. He's practiced.] If you want, I can try making you really angry to see if it triggers your power.
[Wow, that sounds like a bad idea.]
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[That's a bad idea. The last time Deimos was angry... Cain ended up getting betrayed. Besides that how did Cain intend to make him angry? The idea isn't only bad but it terrifies him a little. Enough so that his position in the small corner of the couch shifts to that of caution, on guard for whatever Cain might throw his way.]
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Won't do it, so you don't have to act like I'm going to bite your head off.
[His jaw tightens, and he looks Deimos over again. It's not a decision Cain makes necessarily so he'll relax. A part of him is conflicted over the frustration he's harboring for Deimos exposing him to Abel, but... it's too muddled up. It happened, and that's that. He doesn't even know how to begin to address it.]
That's how I figured it out, though. Some asshole pissed me off when I first showed up, cornered me in the kitchen, and I freaked out. It was dumb. I was already on edge 'cause of the drugs, not the ones they usually give us, but some party pill. [Cain reaches for his glass of whiskey and drinks off the lip.] Whatever happens, you'll figure it out somehow. All of us do.
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His body eases up a bit, a silent relief that Cain isn't going to start beating the shit out of him or cornering him with some ill-gotten words meant to pull him high up and push him off a cliff. They've already been there, or close to that scenario. Deimos doesn't want to ever experience that all consuming anger towards Cain again if he can help it.
He rolls the glass between his hands, passing it back and forth as he slowly brings down the walls he hastily put up. He had no right to act like this. Well, that's not entirely true. He has every right to act like this but they aren't going to get anywhere without rebuilding that trust.
Deimos doesn't know where to start]
Thank you for helping me out.
[With everything. Helping him out on his arrival, seeing as Cain had a harsh first time and helping him get out of the safehouse faster.]
I just feel- [Scared? Lost? Uneasy? Powerless?] Vulnerable not knowing.
[Says the man dressed only in his underwear.]
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Not a big deal.
[Is it? Cain's not even certain of what he says, but he feels... relaxed. Better for having come down and shared his frustrations with Deimos.]
Like I said, you'll figure it out. Bet it'll be badass, like throwing a knife and never missing. Or making knives appear out of thin air. [So many knives.] What would you want it to be?
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I already throw knives without missing.
[He states, as if this skill were a matter of fact and not a superpower. Obviously Deimos doesn't hit every mark but he gathers hitting the bullseye every time would be quite boring. He'd have to find a new hobby beyond knives and that's just unacceptable in Deimos' mind. So what would he want it to be? He bites down on his lip and considers the question.]
Making knives appear out of thin air. [Or- his voice sounds a little more excited by the next idea-] Turning my fingers into knives.
[He takes another sip of his drink, masking his embarrassment.]
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Deimos, seriously? Nobody'd ever let you stick your fingers in them if that was your power.
[Easy to fall back to dirty humor between the two of them. And he's relaxed, feeling good, better for the company - strange to realize.]
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Some people are into that. [Quickly to clarify:] Not me though.
[He'll take being known as the creep with the knife but not the creep who wants a bloody asshole.]
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[He's grinning broadly, caught in the humor of the moment. Over the course of these handful of days since Deimos moved into his place, it's become easier to fall back on the normal dynamic of their tenuous relationship -- the major change becoming the fact he hasn't ordered Deimos around. Now, they're just roommates. It's weird. But Cain feels comfortable, loose from the drugs and alcohol, so he doesn't get hung up on it.]
Hey, think you'd ever wanna go get something pierced? Saw this guy at work with a ring in his lip. I've only ever had my ear pierced, so... [He shrugs.] Figured, why not?
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Piercings? [Curiosity has him speaking up.] Yeah. I've always wanted one. You got a place in mind?
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[He turns a look on Deimos, discovering something about the other fighter for the first time. Not that it's much of a surprise. They barely know much as it is.]
And, not yet. I gotta do some research to find a good place.
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[A vague but harmless answer. With the way he knowingly smiles at Cain, it's clear the other fighter won't get more out of him. At least it's safe to assume he means his ears. Or a simple place like his eyebrows or lip. Simple.]
Body mods are popular, shouldn't be too hard to find a place. I'll help look into some places too.
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