OPEN

[paterelohim]

Who: Chuck Shurley and YOU.
When: Friday-Sunday of the event
Where: all over the place! (and Purgatory)
Summary: Rule 63 is fun.
Warnings: TBD.

[Chuck is having a weird week- as is the rest of the city. After spending the first half of the week going through various and sundry traumatizing experiences, he- she decides to get out into the world and spend the weekend basically being irresponsible. Except at night, when she's in Purgatory, doing her new managerial duties and busily drinking on the job.

Friday is for lurking around various bars and restaurants, engaging in some healthy day drinking and wasting money on arcade games. She's pretty convinced that she's awesome at air hockey when she's drunk. Which is a lie.

On Saturday, she spends a lot of the day roaming around the Underground Mall vicinity aimlessly and eating weird bacon-based foods. She might also be sitting in a city square on the edge of a huge fountain, tongue sticking out in concentration as she busily paints what appears to be a... giant invisible dog.

Sunday has her in a park somewhere, playing an expensive-looking acoustic guitar- mostly Simon & Garfunkle, the Beatles, whatever she can remember without too many mistakes. Which isn't always successful. She's singing softly, too, trying to get used to her new, very unfamiliar voice.]


(ooc: A couple closed threads are posted below, but everything else is totally open!)

Comments

[magnetic_magpie]

Not really an issue here.

[He leaned back inside the driver's door, going over the trim.]

Though I do have the yarmulkes.

[matereloah]

Oh- good, we're halfway there.

[She breathes heavily and leans against the side of the car, catching her breath where the air isn't clouded with dirt. Not going back to work is an iffy decision, when it leaves her mind the time to track over what she said, the joke she made, and to think back. To the days when Gabriel joked about their gay Jew marriage, when all the world narrowed down to one House and the people in it and the visitors who came.

Chuck exhales slowly.]

That was a long time ago.

[magnetic_magpie]

You're frighteningly close to me making a comment about you young people and what you think of 'long time'.

[The smirk was audible.]

Come mark the dash were they put their initials.

[matereloah]

[That thought makes Chuck smile, and move to the open door, peering in. She takes the tool from Erik's hand gently.]

I kind of- think I should do it myself.

[No amount of instruction is quite the same as doing it yourself. She leans over Erik somewhat invasively, taking a second to tuck some hair uselessly behind her ear before getting a knee on the driver's seat and getting comfortable in the narrow space between him and the steering wheel.

The actual carving takes longer than it should, with the careful, slow perfectionism she puts into it, brow furrowed, tongue poking out in concentration. In someone normally so haphazard and oft disorganized, it's unusual. In someone who usually asks before taking, this itself is unusual. But she leans back after a minute with a pleased smile, looking over her handiwork with pride.]

There. It's perfect.

[A sideways, self-conscious glance at Erik.]

This OCD has a point, you know- it's the details that make her theirs. Each one is a point on a road map of their whole lives. Where a house would have memories- places where something happened, a mark on a table from this one fight or a dent in the wall, or a stain on the carpet with its own story, this car is theirs. It's their home.

[She looks over the artificially weathered steering wheel, framing the carefully mapped blemishes on the column, nostalgically.]

That- having not just a house, but a home- that's rare. It's precious.

[magnetic_magpie]

[He watches, and after his conversation with Gabriel, it stands out all the more. So she watches, but still puts a hand on Chuck's back to offer support while he? she? carves.]

I know it is Chuck.

[Considering he didn't really have one.]

[matereloah]

[The hand is familiar enough, coming from Erik, that she says nothing, and thinks little of it when the hand doesn't go away once she's done. In fact she leans against it slightly, starved lately of touch that's familiar and kind and in any way personal.]

I know. [That he knows.] You had one here for a while, didn't you?

[magnetic_magpie]

[He doesn't pull his hand away either, between Lucifer and Jubilee leaving, he's lost the two people he touched the most and the absence has left him touch hungry for it.]

It never lasts.

[matereloah]

Hm. [Chuck grunts low under her breath and moves- not away from him but sliding around him, against him, with a little contact the whole time, then standing up and leaning against the open door, running a hand through her messy hair. There's another moment of less-than-comfortable squirming, where she pulls up her overlarge hoodie on one side, but doesn't notice it slipping down her other shoulder.]

I- I know.

It's... weird. [She shakes her head, licking her lips uncertainly.] I was just so used to them showing up and invading my day, or my lunch, or whatever... it's empty without it.

[magnetic_magpie]

Empty doesn't really cover it I don't think.

[He reaches over to slide the hoodie up over her shoulder, then takes the zipper between his thumb and forefinger and tugs lightly.]

Not that it seems like you've had a quiet time without them.

[matereloah]

[She starts slightly at the touch and looks away, some nervous shadow of a smile creeping over her face, embarrassed.]

Yeah, uh.

[Kinda was hoping he wouldn't see that. Chuck lightly drags the hoodie higher up, her hand nudging his, and hunches her shoulders almost defensively. The fabric still hurts the scratches the hoodie is hiding, mapping her shoulders, back, and even disappearing into her chest, but the freshness of them, the sensitivity and the less-than-proud story of where they came from, make her wish he hadn't seen. She moves her hand into her hair again- a seemingly pointless gesture, but it loosens her bun and drags some loose hair over her neck, to hide the badly-concealed bruises.]

It's been a weird week. You know how it is, right?

[magnetic_magpie]

It's been weird for a while.

[He only lets go when she nudges.]

Should keep your hair up in here. Long hair around a garage isn't completely safe.

[He slides his fingers through it to return it up, wrapping it expertly into a bun that holds without pulling.]

And have someone who knows what they are doing cover those up.

[There's a weird jealously there, which he ignores.]

[matereloah]

[Her eyes slip shut while he gently pulls her hair into a bun. The comment about her hickeys almost stings- mainly because she had intentionally tried to hide them, but obviously she doesn't know what she's doing. She lets out a little sigh.]

I guess I kind of suck at makeup, huh. I only bought it this morning.

[magnetic_magpie]

Oddly, the a lieutenant in IDF taught me. I can show you.

[He leans in a little, adjusting her clothing. The bra doesn't match - and doesn't look like something Chuck would buy either. He's fussed at Chuck's clothing before but normally he was inebriated.]

[matereloah]

[Chuck rolls her head a little, looking through the pattern on Magneto's shirt absently. It's more touching than usual, and she can't quite hide her discomfited squirm.]

It's fine, really- like I need anyone poking at me right now. They're okay.

[They really obviously are not, actually, and at least one of those bites needs some attention, lest the makeup make it even angrier. She wraps her arms around her body protectively, not really wanting to think about this any more.]

[magnetic_magpie]

[He snorts.]

Sure they are.

[He'll press more but relents for now.]

What else do you want to double check?

[matereloah]

Nothing.

[Quickly, pulling away and folding into herself.]

So- uh, what else needs doing? I mean, you aren't finished with the Impala already, are you?

[magnetic_magpie]

I've been working on this one pretty much constantly since Saturday. All I had left to do was detail work, but I wanted you to double check it.

[matereloah]

Okay, what exactly?

[magnetic_magpie]

Check the wear marks on the seat and then help me get the trunk loaded?

[matereloah]

Mkay.

[She snakes around Erik and away, taking a breath of less claustrophobic air before diving into the car to inspect the seats- the exact wear patterns that make it lived-in.]

Everything looks good.

You, uh- got some of the trunk loaded, right?

[There's... a lot.]

[magnetic_magpie]

I have what you showed me.

[Good thing about holograms, he could get a good diagram, though it was only about half the trunk.]

[matereloah]

That's a decent start. Where's the rest of it?

[magnetic_magpie]

Locked up in the office.

[He motions over his shoulder, the lock turning, door opening, and metal crates sliding out.]

I didn't want to have weapons around unsecured.

[matereloah]

And the amulets and all that miscellaneous stuff?

{Heading over there herself to check it out. Before he can reply, she starts rummaging through it and finding, with approving grunts, that it passes muster. Time to-

-wow this shit is a lot heavier than it was when she was a dude, and she doesn't go two seconds before she stumbles back, the strain pulling at the healing claw marks under her sweater.]

[magnetic_magpie]

Leather bag inside the smaller crate.

Careful.

[He catches her easily, a solid, heavy, hot presence behind her as he carefully helps her stand.]