Welcome to Gaia! ::

Jello didn't just grow on trees, whole and jiggly and ready to be plucked, so it took a little while after Tuck's initial request for Evan to show up with the requested red-flavored gelatin and a straw--and a spoon, just in case Tuck realized that trying to suck suck Jello through a straw was more trouble than it was worth. He puzzled over the semi-cryptic messages on Twitter on the way from the kitchen to the dorms. Had Tuck gotten into trouble without him?

Can't leave him alone for a second, he thought to himself as he knocked on Tuck's door.

Evan smirked a little at the sounds behind the door, not feeling at all bad about having caused them; Tuck asked him to come, after all. It faded into a troubled frown once he actually saw Tuck, amusement turning into concern when he saw the number someone had done on the other man's face.

After pushing the bowl of Jello into Tuck's arms, he reached out and push Tuck's chin to the side, giving a low whistle as he saw the extent of the damage. "The hell happened to you? You look like you went ten rounds and lost nine of them."

Suns? She? Evan stifled a laugh and shook his head. "Did Gnat beat you up again?"

So, Evan's division was full of girls who liked to hit stuff. That was handy to know. Also good to know was the name of the person who'd done it, just in case Evan ever ran into any short Sun girls; it was important to know the names of the people in his division and what they could do, what they were capable of.

Evan shook his head as Tuck claimed he deserved his injuries. "For dropping your guard, maybe," he conceded reluctantly. "Not that much, though. You make a short joke or something?"

"Brass knuckles?" Evan considered it for a moment before nodding in approval. Hell, if swords and axes and bazookas were viable weapons, there was no reason someone couldn't kick some monster a** with their fists, too. "You're pretty lucky she didn't break your jaw, or something. What kinda trouble've you been getting into that's so bad you don't have time for training? You're a Moon, anyway, how do you even get hit that bad?"

Evan shook his head and grinned as he watched Tuck enjoy the Jello. "Yeah, eat up. You can wash the bowl when you're done."

Evan offered a sympathetic noise and an understanding nod at the source of Tuck's troubles. There was no solution to that particular problem, mostly because A: no one really knew if and when there was a woman-related problem until it was too late, B: these kinds of problems were liable to end just as suddenly as they started, and C: women were worth dealing with in spite of any troubles they might bring.

Tuck's troubles didn't seem all that bad, though. "Hey, good job," Evan congratulated him with a thumbs-up. "Why is this a bad thing?"

"Oh. Yeah, I can see where that might get you into some trouble."

Evan shrugged in response to the look Tuck gave him, keeping his expression carefully neutral. "I'm not judging you, or anything," he lied. It was the one of the oldest tragic stories in history, and it spoke of a lack of control, of loyalty, in all of the characters who wrote themselves into it. He could see how it might be an easy trap to fall into, though, especially with the limited amount of company to be found on a remote island completely cut off from the rest of the world. "Takes two to tango."

That was trouble that Evan didn't need or want, and though it might get a little lonely sometimes, it was probably better than the alternative. "They don't teach you self-discipline in the Army?" Evan joked, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "51% of the reason I'm out on the training fields or in the kitchen so much is so I don't get distracted enough to let myself get punched in the face."