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 Posted: Wed Mar 18, 2015 10:48 pm
"'Scuse you, readin' Scooby Doo books made me a true fan, not a nerd," he retorted with Much Great Affrontedness. Granted, he had also been a tween at the time. It was different! "N' a'course I consent, s**t, you think I'd leave if I didn' wanna?" he added with a bark of laughter and a strong pat at Chance's back. "Ya silly Asian cornstalk."
He felt a little bad about making Chance pay for it all, though, and did a little mental math as they made their way over. Dawson filled their walk with brief comments about their surroundings (namely that it was cold holy damn) and how it was probably nice to have ports that didn't have giant krakens and God only knew what else lurking around. Or maybe they did? He didn't really understand how often Halloween people infiltrated their world, whoops.
In time they reached the bar and were told the wait time would be fifteen minutes, which to Dawson seemed like a miracle since there were so many people out. "What's been up with you anyway?" he asked as he leaned against the wall and pocketed his hands. "Fixed yer friend problem thingamajigger?"
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Posted: Thu Mar 19, 2015 11:11 am
"Nerd," Chance stage whispered, but he was smiling. "And no, but I think you'd be too much of a gentleman to walk away when someone like me is being...well, whatever I am, but that's beside the point. You, Dawson Grace - " And here he poked the other man's broad chest, eyes twinkling with amusement. " - are what they call a good guy. And that's what I like about you, anyway."
He tugged his jacket a bit further around him, the cold weather not exactly what he was the most fond of; but good food and the prospect of good drinks mean that he could handle the freezing temperatures for at least a few more minutes until they got to the actual restaurant.
Which didn't take too long, thankfully. Chance was forever grateful for warm buildings and sank down onto one of the benches next to Dawson's leaning form, rubbing his hands together.
"What?" he said, and then realized what the other was asking, a slightly rueful look on his face. "Oh. Well...half of it, I think. Or a third of it, I suppose is a more accurate way of looking at things. Turns out I didn't screw up one of my friendships, but the other two..."
He sighed. "I think it's better explained over a good drink. But in the meantime, Shaggy, I see you've been pretty popular on Twitter with the ladies. Got yourself someone yet?"
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Posted: Fri Mar 20, 2015 2:53 pm
He giggled at the chest poke like he was the Pillsbury Doughboy for effect. "A third? s**t, yer holdin' out on me," Dawson said with a nudge back and a grin, though it was obvious Chance didn't have to go into it if he didn't want to, as much as he wanted to hear. The look that passed over his friend's face said quite a bit on its own anyway. "Me? Uh." Dawson wiggled his pocketed hands and chuckled. "Naw, man, it's all fer fun," he said. "Well, I mean, I like breakin' up the drama r' whatever n' complimentin' a pretty girl 'cause tha's what they are, yeah? Don' really mean t'make it get further than that. I know this gonna shock the hell outta ya, Freddie, but I ain' as smooth as I'm propogatin' on there." He heaved a great shrug. The greatest of tragedies."s**t, I get tongue tied n' redder 'an a angry rooster in July near a pretty thang," Dawson added. "Don' want that ruinin' my street cred, y'see."
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Posted: Fri Mar 20, 2015 2:59 pm
He caught the look and smiled a little. "Don't worry," said Chance. "I'll figure something out once we have ourselves some drinks, and we sit and relax a bit. Maybe then my head will be less all over the place, and it'll be easier to explain."
Stretching out his legs, Chance linked his fingers together on top of his stomach and leaned his head back against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other. He gave a snort of amusement. "Complimenting a pretty girl is a good way to start something," he said lightly. "And it sounds kinda smooth to me, I thought women usually liked that whole shy puppy thing."
He patted Dawson's shoulder to indicate he was just messing with him, and the hostess swept by, gesturing for them to follow her. Chance eased himself vertical again and fell easily into step, casting a sideways glance at his friend.
"You have anyone you're interested in?" he asked curiously, wondering if there was something he could learn from this.
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Posted: Sat Mar 21, 2015 12:26 am
Dawson was glad for the out the hostess gave them. He didn't want to go into the whole Twitter flirting thing any deeper, not on an empty stomach.
Making a show of thinking, he let the walk to the table buy him some time. "Ehhhh," he eventually replied evasively after thanking the hostess and plucking up a menu. "I mean. S'all just fer fun like I said, ain' lookin' t'go deeper than that right now. Already told ya how well I'd do anyway, heh." He certainly wasn't sure he could properly talk about Chel just yet either. Maybe they both really needed a drink. "'Sides, m'supposed to worry 'bout bein' good at my job, not f'some gal's sweet on me or not, yeah? I ain' in middleschool no more."
Dawson's foot tapped against the table's center leg as he scanned the menu. The words seemed to blur together for him, not visibly but mentally. He kept paying attention to the strange layout, the colors and the dots and lines and font shapes, rereading the same things with vague comprehension each time. His brow creased slightly.
"s**t, some a'this stuff sounds fancy," Dawson said distractedly, trying to push the conversation away from him. "Hehe. There's a rum on here. Mount Gay." He snorted very maturely. "The hell kinda drinks r' 'other worldly'? They gonna come with a fancy leaf n' tiny designer cup too? s**t."
Eventually when their waitress came, he settled on some Night Shift brown ale and let the menu sit for the moment so his head could right itself again. He took a deep breath and sighed through his nose. The ambience was nice: he missed the sound of people. Of normal.
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Posted: Sat Mar 21, 2015 9:24 am
"Going deeper than that is overrated, anyway," said Chance mildly, as he picked up his own menu. "That's mostly my philosophy, anyway. You just have a good time with what you've got, and anything else is too complicated and too messy for my tastes."
Never mind that he felt he'd screwed up even that. Chance gave a little laugh.
"Right," he said with a nod. "Job first, gals later."
He gave Dawson what was meant to be a reassuring smile, his head tilted a little to the side, looking curiously over his broad form. There were several more questions he wanted to ask him, just about people in general, but the words wouldn't come, and instead, Chance drew his attention back to his own menu.
"Mount Gay, sounds like my kinda drink," he said cheerfully. "But these are ******** weird names for drinks, I'm not so sure what exactly they entail..."
He himself ordered a Monkey Shoulder whiskey, because the name amused him. Chance squinted at the page. "That Farde Island Salmon looks good..."
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Posted: Sun Mar 22, 2015 1:42 pm
"Well nah, I wouldn' say overrated," Dawson hedged. He didn't say more about until their drinks arrived, choosing instead to regale Chance with some choice observations about people around them. Look at the hair on that one, looked like it belonged on a doll's. You think those two or dating, or do dudes normally touch each other's arms and hands that much up in the north? Can you read what that tattoo says? I think it looks like a baby giving birth to a full grown woman?? Bro, check out the biker jacket on that chick over there! He drank and drank and drank a little harder than he meant to and started to cough. "Good ale," Dawson sputtered as he pulled a napkin out to clean himself. He still hadn't looked at the menu since his first glance. "Alrigh' spill, man. Well, don' spill spill like me, heh."
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Posted: Mon Mar 23, 2015 12:09 pm
Chance much approved of the observations, because that was exactly the sort of thing that he enjoyed and the thing that he learned from. People were utterly fascinating, even if he didn't say it out loud anymore, and he found himself drawn into Dawson's enthusiastic ramblings with a certain sense of amusement evident on his face.
The whiskey was delivered with a water, which Chance set aside for later, lifting his glass and swirling around the amber colored liquid before taking a delicate sip. It was very strong, and he wrinkled his nose a little, resisting the urge to cough before setting it down again.
He rested one elbow (rudely) on the table and propped his chin up in the palm of his hand, giving Dawson a little smile that bordered on rueful, but was mostly just as mild as it ever was.
"You know me," said Chance lightly. "I like what I like, including sex. I usually see it as something fun to do, but I do have my limits, and as a rule I usually steer clear of anything that might lead to any drama. I don't get in the middle of people's s**t, that's not me."
A low hum escaped him, Chance lifting his glass again and idly tapping a finger against it.
"I slept with someone I shouldn't have, someone who was already taken," he said finally. "I can't say who, because it's not my place to tell, but I think I may have screwed up the relationship because of it. I don't usually do regrets but..." He let one shoulder rise and fall in a small shrug. "Unfortunately this time I think I might have some."
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Posted: Wed Mar 25, 2015 9:08 pm
Dawson bobbed his head repeatedly, half to show he was listening and half to show he understood what he was listening. "Oh." He blinked and drank some more ale, his brow furrowing. "Jinkies, man, sawry t'hear," he said as the pieces clicked together in his head. "You gone n' talked to one a'em yet? Or ya just gonna keep yer distance? 'Cause I wouldn' blame ya fer not sayin' a word, but festerin's not a good habit." He would know: he constantly mulled over things long after they happened.
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Posted: Tue Mar 31, 2015 9:45 am
Talking to Dawson felt more relaxing than talking to some of the others. Chance felt some of the tension in his shoulders easing away, and he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other as his fingers slid along his glass.
A slightly sheepish expression touched his face because Dawson was more intuitive than he gave the impression of.
"...I was just going to keep my distance," said Chance, keeping his tone deliberately mild. "I don't want to get involved in anything."
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Posted: Tue Mar 31, 2015 9:31 pm
"Take it from me, man, not touchin' it's as bad as stickin' yer fingers everywhere." He took another long swig of his drink; the mug was already three-quarters empty. "Last time I just pushed it all down n' tried t'forget 'bout it, I broke out inta a fight with a friend over somethin' stupid n' got my a** kicked. I mean, you do you. Hell, I break s**t bein' this bull inna China shop all the time. But I mean."
He gave a very important sounding grunt to sum up his sentiments.
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Posted: Wed Apr 01, 2015 10:44 am
He couldn't help but be a little (childishly) amused at the metaphor, Chance lifting his own glass and downing the rest of his drink, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "I have a habit of just wanting to walk away when things get messy," he said, resting his chin in the palm of his hand and surveying Dawson from across the table.
"But admittedly, I have a hard time imagining you getting into a fight over something, it must have been serious if you got into it."
He shrugged a shoulder, wondering if perhaps Dawson was right; if removing himself from the situation was only making things more complicated, instead of less. "I guess this is just the first time I've had people that I actually find interesting enough to want to keep around, and I'm not quite sure how to deal with it."
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Posted: Wed Apr 01, 2015 12:21 pm
" Interesting," he mimicked Chance. " Fascinating. Astrophilosophicality. Hehe. Sawry I cain' help ya much there, man." And he really, truly was. "Friends're hard sometimes." Dawson was saved from having to explain said fight for a few extra minutes. The waiter came back, and he realized he hadn't read the menu well enough to remember anything that stuck out. Mildly panicking (fingers tapping on the table, a hasty laugh, ya scared me there ghostin' in), he picked up the menu and just ordered at whatever happened to be under his finger at the time (a fried fish sandwich) along with a second helping of beer; his courtesy towards Chance and his wallet was briefly forgotten in his need to not look awkward while still looking awkward. "Wasn' really a fight," he mumbled afterwards, fixing his cap. "More like I bitched too loudly n' stuck my boot in my mouth after. S'not n' insult t'get called wifey, is it?"
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Posted: Wed Apr 01, 2015 8:45 pm
Interesting. Fascinating. Astrophilosophicality.
He winced, ever so slightly; a strange look passed across Chance's face and quickly dissipated, replaced by his usual mild-mannered amusement, Chance reaching for his water glass to idly stir the ice cubes around and listen to them clink against the side of the glass. His own food ordered was some sort of fancy fish dish, along with a second glass of bourbon, because he had the feeling he would need more alcohol before the night was over.
"I...don't think so," said Chance, brows furrowing in slight bemusement. "But I think it might depend on the context? It seems a harmless word."
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Posted: Wed Apr 01, 2015 9:30 pm
If Dawson noticed the wince--and that was a big if, given how much he was enjoying the beer, getting over his performance with the waiter, and trying to not to wrap himself up too much in this particular discussion--he didn't show it. "Phrase 'pecifically was wife b***h," he said with a frown. "Not manly, y'know. Someone said s'just wifey, someone who makes life easier n' good n' stuff. N' then someone said meant I was just a b***h."
He downed some more and winced as the taste for whatever reason burned going down his throat this time. "'Ppanrently I'd be a good woman; otherwise, m'just a shitty man," Dawson all but muttered.
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