Room 408, Sunday, Afternoon

[apocalipped]

When you had the room to yourself and the holiday season was mostly over, there were only so many ways for a bloke to pass the time.

Jono had been up all hours of last night playing on his guitar, for example.

Which meant that today? He was hell-bent on sleeping in. Or, at the very least, hell-bent on laying on his back and staring at the ceiling for as much of the day as humanly possible. It was boring as hell, yes, but no less exciting than staring at the wall had been, yesterday. Perhaps tomorrow, to mix things up a bit, he'd look at the floor some instead.

[How enthralling! Tacked up with one in mind, but open if anyone wants to visit otherwise.]

Comments

[furnaceface]

//Ah.// Jono sat there for a moment, trying to piece together what to say next. Somehow, coming up with words to toss at Jak had always been easier when the bloke was happy. And mute. A happy mute. //I'm... not entirely certain what that is.//

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

It might be the aggressive loner waves he was putting out. But that was just a guess.

"Well, it's nothing good," Jak said, laconically, and shot him a look across the room. "You're some kind of sensitive."

[furnaceface]

//Came with the whole 'mutant powers' package,// Jono agreed, running a hand over his chest idly in an attempt to either smooth down his bandages, or to indicate what was underneath them without directly doing so. //I try to ignore it, when I can. Sometimes I'm better at doing so than others, apparently.//

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I'm sure people just love those."

Jak? Bitter? Why, we never.

[furnaceface]

Jono glanced back at Jak for a moment, his eyebrows knit.

//I hide them as best I can for a reason, mate. It's not so much a matter of 'love' where I'm from as it is anti-mutant protests in the streets and large machines built for the sole purpose of murdering us.//

Jono could manage a note or two in a conversation on bitterness, really.

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

Yeah, he could throw in a few notes himself, now they were on the topic. But that wasn't the big thing right now. "We should have a drink to that," Jak decided. "One of these nights."

[furnaceface]

Ahah...

//Yer have no idea how much I would love to.// Really. A lot. Jono managed to keep a hint of bitter sting out of his voice, then. It didn't seem like it would do this conversation any great amount of good. //I can't. No mouth.//

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

"Yeah?" Jak glanced back at him. "We'll find you something."

[furnaceface]

There was a concept that Jono was slowly growing accustomed to. People trying to make up for the lack of face, rather than pitying him for it. He appreciated it, actually. Even if he was bloody rotten at showing it.

//Anything in mind, mate?//

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

Maybe it was that. Or maybe it was just weird, freak-to-freak empathy. Better not to look it in the mouth.

"I don't know," he said, "What can you do?"

[furnaceface]

//Blow things up, mostly,// Jono replied, giving his shoulders a shrug. //Speak telepathically. I'm not very good at much beyond that, honestly.//

Because he stomped on the rest of it. Fervently. //It's a bit of a constant battle to keep it under control.//

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

... Yeah. That was another bit Jak kind of got.

"We could go blow up tin cans."

[furnaceface]

//Yer serious?//

Jono eyed Jak for a moment at that. And then he laughed. Or, well, projected the echo of something that was meant to be a laugh. It was all the same, in the end. //Target practice it is, then. Why not?//

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

"Yeah," Jak said, at a slow, slow drawl, his mouth tugging left to match, "That's what I like to say."

[furnaceface]

My, that look was somewhat predatory, wasn't it?

//Looking forward to it, then,// Jono decided. He wasn't entirely certain now how much he was looking forward to it, but... Well. This was Jak. And it was... male bonding, or something of the sort. That was good enough.