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+---- Thread: whiskey, smoke and aces high (/showthread.php?tid=5405)
RE: whiskey, smoke and aces high - Ronin - 08-23-2021
[say]"Yeah, near enough,"[/say] Ronin murmurs with a quirk of his lips and a nod. [say]"It gets misty up there from the rain. Makes it moody in the mornings."[/say] You'd have probably enjoyed it, he wants to say, but he can't quite find the words for it just yet. And then something of an explanation is spilling out through Bandcamp's lips, but it isn't actually much of anything. More questions burn on Ronin's tongue - how can he be alright if he wasn't conscious until yesterday? what had happened for him not to be conscious in the first place? - but the sudden beeping of the machine draws his attention.
[say]"Oh, shit,"[/say] he mutters, knowing only the basics about medicine but knowing enough that a high heartrate is Not Good. [say]"Sorry, I didn't know,"[/say] he mutters, already stepping back towards the door. [say]"I'll go. Do you want me to get anyone?"[/say] He nods at the machine. [say]"I can check on your apartment if you need. Or feed your dog, or whatever. Though I imagine you've probably already got someone doing that."[/say] Shut up, Ronin, fuck.
RE: whiskey, smoke and aces high - Remi - 08-23-2021
[say]'No, you don't—"[/say] Remi blurts before he can stop himself, his words cut off by the beep beep beep of the machine at his side. 188 bpm. That'd be his target heart rate, had he been working out. [say]'I mean, I don't want to keep you..'[/say] No, what he means is I've been thinking about you since I woke up, and thank fuck you're here, and not even because I'm bored out of my fucking mind.
[say]"Uh, well I'm sure Isla would appreciate it. She's the one that called you."[/say] He explains. [say]"My..fuck, I don't know where my keys are...though, you have the spare, right?"[/say] But if he did that, Hallway would find the apartment as Remi had inevitably left it (unless Isla had tidied up): vomit on his pillows from where he'd nearly choked. Sweat-soaked sheets dried to a lovely shade of piss-yellow. A broken needle somewhere on the floor.
[say]"But, it's fine. Isla can do it. It's no big deal."[/say] It was, because she absolutely did not have the time, and heaven help the musician if his friend heard him say as much.
RE: whiskey, smoke and aces high - Ronin - 08-23-2021
[say]"I just got back, I don't really have anywhere to be today."[/say] He'd taken the day off in anticipation of not actually getting back until this evening, planning on being far too hungover and well-fucked to surface before midday. And yet, here they are. He's left almost dizzy at the whipcrack of decisions Remi spectacularly doesn't make about his apartment, and it has Ronin rubbing at his forehead and wondering if it might be easier if he just spoke to Isla.
[say]"I have the spare,"[/say] he confirms, shifting the helmet under his arm. [say]"I guess I... I'll check with Isla,"[/say] he decides. The apartment absolutely will not have been tidied up, Isla more concerned with the state of her friend's health than his living conditions, though if they give it much longer, it's likely that a little birdie Vai will swing by and get the place smelling like mint and lemongrass in no time.
[say]"What have I walked into?"[/say] He asks suddenly, his voice soft and clouded with concern. [say]"Did you get into an accident or something? I tried your phone and your apartment before I left, but there was no answer."[/say]
RE: whiskey, smoke and aces high - Remi - 08-23-2021
Given Remi hadn't had the chance to shower since being brought in, Ronin looked unfairly attractive with his hair mussed about and his biking leathers constantly drawing Remi's attention. [say]"Oh..."[/say] Of course Ronin would have tried his phone and come a'calling. [say]"Yeah, it was Thursday evening. I was already gone by the time you would have rang."[/say] Gone in more than one sense.
Smiling faintly, the u of his lips coming and going in a nervous flutter, Remi tries to laugh the whole thing off. [say]"It was a chemical imbalance."[/say] He offers, trying again to sit up but the mountain of pillows behind him makes it all but impossible. Finding it difficult to meet Roni's gaze and not just out a strange sense of self-consciousness mixed with shame, Remi sniffs and smooths out a wrinkle on his lap.
RE: whiskey, smoke and aces high - Ronin - 08-23-2021
[say]"Ah,"[/say] Ronin says, because what the fuck else do you say in response to that? He shifts his feet, still finding himself caught between the door and the chair, until eventually he at least goes as far as setting his helmet down on the side table that he might remove his gloves. The rain is still glittering on his leathers, though it hasn't intensified out there to a true downpour (not yet).
A chemical imbalance sounds like Remi's special brand of bullshit, and Ronin furrows his brow as he tries to figure out what part of this is funny. [say]"I didn't realise you were diabetic,"[/say] he says dryly, deciding to lean into it as he pushes his gloves into his back pocket. [say]"Do you know when you'll be able to get out of here? I bet your fans are losing their shit."[/say]
RE: whiskey, smoke and aces high - Remi - 08-23-2021
Remi raises his eyebrows, though just quite what that expression is meant to communicate is unclear. Ronin's ignorance about what other actual disorders could cause a chemical imbalance? Being too naive to just accept it was an overdose and move on? Shame, that he might actually have to spell it out for the other man?
[say]"Tomorrow if all goes well."[/say] He says on the exhale, trying not to read into the removal of Ronin's gloves but failing. [say]"Nah. They don't know. Week off, remember? No one knows I'm here. Just Vai and Isla."[/say] The heartrate monitor blinks a higher number once again. [say]"And you."[/say]
Biting at the inside of his lip, able to smell rain, gasoline, and smoke on the mechanic, Remi gives the other man a hopeful look. [say]"Hey, you don't happen to have any smokes on you, do you? I don't think I can make it downstairs, but if we crack that window, I doubt we'll get caught."[/say] Remi's crooked grin is very clear in its communication now: and who cares if we do?
RE: whiskey, smoke and aces high - Ronin - 08-23-2021
[say]"That isn't too long, at least,"[/say] he murmurs, taking another step forward and finally sinking down into the seat. He knows very well what the raise of the eyebrows means, and perhaps it's the way the light falls across Ronin's face, but he suddenly seems a touch older, a touch more tired. He looks more like a man who has been a soldier, and has walked through it and out the other side. [say]"What was it? Benzos? Coke? Dope?"[/say] he asks without looking at Remi.
And then suddenly they go from maybe could you look after my dog to can I bum a cigarette and Ronin tilts his head at one of the machines - the one attached to tubes going into Remi's nose - and can't help but smile. Scoffing out a laugh and reaching into his jacket, he slips out his pack of cigarettes and a lighter and sets them down on the bed. [say]"I'll get the window,"[/say] he murmurs, rising to his feet again and moving to do just that.
RE: whiskey, smoke and aces high - Remi - 08-23-2021
Just as Remi is starting to think that Ronin all of a sudden looks like the type of man who stands in his kitchen every morning, mid-thirties with a cup of coffee and a honey-do list a mile lone, he asks a question that has Remi turning away and fixing his gaze blankly on the wall. Words rearrange his jaw, and he has to consciously stop himself from scratching at the bandage just below his elbow from where the needle had tore a hole in his skin. [say]"Does it matter?"[/say] He asks coolly, sounding and feeling hurt and seen.
[say]"Thank fuck for you."[/say] Remi sighs as the tables turn once again. Pulling the blanket over his knees and reaching out for one of the metal poles attached to a machine that did who knew what (Isla, that's who), the musician braces himself against it in an effort to heave his feet onto the ground. [say]"Feels like I'm made of sand. Mio dio."[/say] He mumbles, already breathless and dying for a cigarette all the more.
RE: whiskey, smoke and aces high - Ronin - 08-23-2021
[say]"One's a lot worse than the others, and it's also the one that's most likely to happen again,"[/say] Ronin replies equally as coolly, before he's letting out a sigh that puffs out his cheeks and raking his fingers through his hair. [
say]"Sorry. Sorry, it's not... I don't mean to come across like some sanctimonious shit, I've just lost a couple of friends to it."[/say] He almost says that's all, but that's not really what you say when it comes to human lives, is it? [say]"Not the sort of shit to drag up when you're trying to get out of hospital,"[/say] he says apologetically.
Turning in time to see Remi trying to struggle to his feet, Ronin steps over to help balance him. [say]"Easy,"[/say] he murmurs. [say]"You sure you can handle a smoke? I don't want your friend to yell at me if I make all those machines go off."[/say]
RE: whiskey, smoke and aces high - Remi - 08-23-2021
[say]'And you care, why?'[/say] Remi replies with all the characteristic defensiveness of a junkie before he can stop himself. He doesn't want to know the answer to that question, not here and now, anyway. But then Ronin is filling in some of the details which smooth down Remi's hackles even if they don't lower the number on the heart rate monitor. [say]"I just had a bad night, that's all. It wasn't...like a cry for help, or anything like that."[/say] Remi adds with a shrug, like almost dying was something you could just shrug off. It's no big deal, so long as I have people to check and make sure I haven't died. And I do, so you know, fuck off about it. [say]"No, I get it. Sorry to hear about your friends."[/say] Remi mumbles, feeling suddenly worse than he had the day before when he'd finally woken up.
[say]"Ha."[/say] Remi laughs under his breath trying not to lean into Hallway's hand. [say]"I know you. I think you'd like if someone like her were to yell at you."[/say] The musician adds crookedly. Rising to his feet unsteadily, he takes a lunging step toward the window to grip the frame with pale and shaking fingers. His tattoos looked almost fresh by comparison, given how ghost-white he currently was.
RE: whiskey, smoke and aces high - Ronin - 08-23-2021
Exactly, Ronin wants to say. That's exactly the problem - he does care, and starting to catch feelings for a junkie musician is precisely the sort of shit that's bad for him, especially after he'd been stood up by said musician for this, apparently. [say]"A bad night, the night before going away with me, huh?"[/say] He raises his eyebrows. [say]"You could have just ghosted me like a normal person."[/say]
Shrugging off the apology about his friends, Ronin can't help but snort out a laugh at Remi's comment. [say]"No you don't,"[/say] he mutters automatically. Because he doesn't know him - they don't know each other at all, really, beyond banter and fucking and sarcastic quips.
Regardless, he suddenly finds himself with his hands pretty full trying to stop Remi from splattering on the floor of his room. [say]"Steady,"[/say] he tries to warn him, helping to guide him to the window and raising an eyebrow as they're faced with the other hospital buildings opposite. [say]"This view is shit compared to the one from your roof,"[/say] he remarks.
RE: whiskey, smoke and aces high - Remi - 08-23-2021
[say]'Oh fuck off.'[/say] Remi replies smoothly through a smile. [say]"The first time I met you you came on my jeans on the way to the bathroom and left me with one sloppy kiss to remember you by. If that wasn't enough to send me over the edge, a weekend away with you wasn't going to do it."[/say] He adds, which is both his way of saying You don't mean enough to me to OD over as much as it was I really wanted to go. But then everything revolves again and they've landed on the "fuck you" square, apparently. [say]"What the fuck is your problem?"[/say] Remi wants to know, his accent now on enforce.
And now for Remi's next trick, he'll make his friend disappear because he's just landed on misunderstanding!
[say]"Well no one has a goddamn gun to your head if it's so fucking bad."[/say] Remi says dryly, unable to hear the words for what they probably are—an attempt to get back to lighter moments between them—and instead hearing them as yet another complaint on Ronin's part.
RE: whiskey, smoke and aces high - Ronin - 08-23-2021
[say]"And you still texted me first,"[/say] Ronin snarks back, because apparently yes, they have landed on the fuck you square, and just because Remi has OD'd his way out of the trip they were both really looking forward to, it doesn't erase Ronin's weekend-long hurt of thinking he'd been stood up. [say]"Have you fucking met yourself?"[/say] he asks, as if it should be obvious what his problem is.
[say]"Since I've known you, you've spent more time insulting the way I make my coffee or my taste in food or the clothes I wear or the dishes in my apartment than any real conversation. I was looking forward to seeing if there was more than just bitchiness to your day to day, and now I'm standing in a fucking hospital room while you laugh off an overdose and smoke out the window."[/say] It all spills out quite without his permission, and Ronin wants nothing more than to reel it all back in. Alas.
[say]"Sorry?"[/say] He raises his eyebrows as, of all the things going on right now, it's his quip about the view that Remi takes issue over. [say]"Am I meant to be in awe of the slate grey architecture or something?"[/say] There's no lightening the mood from here, clearly, so he keeps his mouth shut and sets the cigarettes and the lighter down on the window sill.
RE: whiskey, smoke and aces high - Remi - 08-23-2021
[say]"I did yeah, so you should have known better than to think I'd ghost you."[/say] He retorts, brows furrowing. [say]"I haven't had the pleasure."[/say] Remi all but snarls. [say]"But you have, and you've stuck around, so—"[/say] Oh, but then Ronin is really laying into him and fuck if the anger in his voice didn't brilliantly bring out the blue of his eyes.
[say]"Oh I'm sorry, what were we supposed to talk about? Most of the time you're already shit-faced by the time we make it back to mine, or you're immediately two shots in when I come to yours. When you aren't, you're stuffing your face with garbage, so fucking forgive me for at least wanting the food to be good when the company isn't."[/say]
Running his tongue along the bottom of his teeth as if he might lacerate it right then and there and save them both the rest of what he's about to say, sadly this iteration of Remi does not have shark-like teeth with which to sever his tongue. [say]'Well you're a real fucking hero. Do you want me to get out my feelings journal? Because last time you started reading the shit I wrote down, you just snarked about it. Never mind the shit I write down and sing—!"[/say] Because now that he thinks about it, he wrote a goddamn song for Irish and the man just said it was his best. Not like, objectively good, just better than the other shit he wrote.
Again Remi has the urge to bite down on his tongue. Or maybe he could punch Ronin in the face. They were in a hospital, it probably wouldn't be that bad. Remi wasn't in a state to do much damage. [say]"Che cazzo c'è che non va in te? Che cazzo c'è che non va in me per averti sopportato? E cazzo perché devi sembrare così?"[/say] The monitor beeps as Remi's cheeks flush a worrying shade of pink. [say]"Perché mi manca il sapore della tua bocca?"[/say] And on the end of that, Remi leans forward to roughly kiss the man tearing his personality apart.