maskormenacelogs | mixed up as a milkshake, but make no mistake

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mixed up as a milkshake, but make no mistake

WHO: REINER BRAUN and TERRY WARD
WHERE: Heropa! Terry's house.
WHEN: Tuesday afternoon.
WHAT: Terry's lawn could use some tending to. Luckily...
WARNINGS: None anticipated but will ETA if so!

[ Now that school has let out for the summer, the only thing that really brings Reiner back into Heropa regularly is his job; not that there isn't call for landscapers in Nonah, too, but as far as the work itself he prefers the climate of Florida a bit more.

Often the assignments are provided to him through a third party, Reiner receiving the address and instructions but then often meeting the homeowners for the first time once he's there (assuming they're home). Today it's a relatively straightforward lawn and hedge trim, which Reiner finds easy almost to the point of being relaxed by the work; he walks down the sidewalk toward Residence #6 with an electric pushmower slung on his shoulder and hedge clippers hanging off his belt, dressed for the heat as usual in a white t-shirt and cut-off shorts.

Shifting the mower slightly so that he has more mobility in his arm, Reiner knocks on the front door to let whomever's home know he's there. ]

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[ Terry doesn't like summer. Especially not summer in Florida. Between the humidity, the heat, and the constant sunlight, he feels constantly on the brink of actual death -- even though that's technically impossible, as far as he knows. If he wasn't taking summer courses at the university, he'd probably avoid leaving the house at all. Sometimes he wonders if he should just give into being nocturnal.

But his plan for the afternoon (holing up in his room with the blinds drawn, squinting at a text book in the relative darkness) gets interrupted by a knock on the door. God help him if it's evangelists. Or Girl Scouts. Reluctantly, he drags himself to the door, bracing himself for exposure to the outside world as he finally pulls it open. ]

Look, I'm not really interested --

[ Pause. Squint. Then with absolutely zero tact: ]

Do I know you?

[ When the door opens Reiner has on an amiable grin, ready to launch into his usual routine of explaining the work he was told he'd be doing, asking if there was anything else in addition, and giving an estimate as to how long it would take. Seeing Terry's face throws him off his stride for a moment, and he wonders if he's found the right house. ]

Uh, I don't know, bro. But if you don't, I'm Reiner Braun.

[ He shifts the equipment again so he can offer his hand out to Terry. ]

I'm supposed to cut up your hedges -- those ones, probably, unless you're trying to tell me I got the wrong house.

[ If there was any doubt, the name puts it all together for him. It's Mr. Optimist. Terry's recognition shows on his face and it isn't necessarily a positive expression. He eyes that offered hand for a long moment before he finally reaches out to shake Reiner's hand, if only to avoid leaving the guy hanging. ]

I wouldn't know. I can't even tell you how few craps I give about our hedges.

[ He'd probably blame Bradbury. Or April. You never knew what April would care about. Or do, for her own amusement. ]

Is this the job they gave you? Seriously?

[ After the handshake, Reiner raises an eyebrow and smiles at Terry a bit uncertainly, expression more wry than open now. He's not sure how to answer that question except with the obvious: ]

Well, yeah. It's not that bad -- kind of boring, but it's easy. Money's pretty good too, most of my customers tip.

[ Though he can tell already Terry is probably not among them -- not that it's a big deal. There were easier ways to earn money if that was all Reiner cared about. He shrugs his shoulders, eyebrows furrowing mildly. ]

I can skip out on cutting the grass if the noise'll be a problem.

[ It's basically Terry's nightmare job -- no pun intended. But the Florida heat is his worst enemy, and he's pretty sure that the only reason he hasn't just transferred universities and found a cooler climate is that whatever semblance of family he has is firmly located here. If he'd been saddled with Reiner's job, he'd probably be red. All the time. Painfully red.

He squints a little, like just thinking about the heat makes the sun seem a little brighter. ]

It's cool. Go for it, I guess. I mean, you're already here and I'm already up, so. [ He exhales. ] Did anybody warn you about the raccoons?

[ Even Reiner gets fairly red doing this job, although he is lucky enough to be able to regenerate his skin cells to heal it at the end of the day. Or sooner, if it's bad enough. It's because he tends to peel off his shirt the way he does so now before he starts because he knows he'll end up sweating.

He moves back from the porch, sweeping his hair back off his face with his hand and looking out over the lawn. ]

All right. It shouldn't take too long anyway, so don't worry. [ He grins, hefting up his hedge clippers before he raises an eyebrow in confusion and looks in the direction of the bushes. ] Wait, there's raccoons? I'm, uh, not supposed to exterminate them or something, am I?

I wish you could.

[ He may or may not have said that totally under his breath and half to himself. But there's no way. April would find out -- he doesn't know how she would, but she would. And as much as it irritates him to have raccoons swarming the yard, the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, and basically any other living space he might ever even think about occupying, it isn't worth facing the Raccoon Queen's wrath. So. ]

No, I mean there's just a lot of them around. 'Cause my housemate kinda controls them. It's her power. If I were you? I probably wouldn't mess around with them.

Sure... I'll leave them alone, but -- offer stands. It's not really my job, but I can't imagine it'd be that complicated.

[ Reiner looks around the yard again, searching for suspicious movement, then tosses his shirt aside at the foot of the porch as he walks out to get started. ]

What the hell kind of power is that? If my friend Sasha could do that she'd just end up hunting and eating them all. [ He frowns as he moves the blades of the shears open and shut a few times to make sure they don't stick -- "friend" isn't the right word to use, but oh well. ] Do they bother you guys?

If April wants them too, yeah.

[ It isn't really Terry's intention to linger, especially not with the heat still so oppressive, but they're talking now, and he might as well fill his social quota for the week. He's rude at times, but not that rude. His mother did put effort into raising him well, to the point that he happened to get her institutionalized with his powers. ]

You probably didn't know that torture by raccoons is a thing, but it kinda is.

[ Exaggeration? Maybe. Slightly. ]

If you even tried to get rid of them, I don't think I'd be able to save you.

[ The company is appreciated, however subconsciously; Reiner can clip hedges and talk at the same time, after all, and at least this way the job feels like it goes faster. Already he can feel the sun heating up the back of his neck and his shoulders, the backs of his knees, so he had better hurry up and get started.

Smirking, he shrugs his shoulders, shifting the shears into one hand so he can gesture a wave with the other. ]

Raccoons are no big deal. Even in multitude -- I'm a pretty sturdy guy, you know? It takes a hell of a lot to get me in any trouble.

[ Clip clip clip. ]

You don't get along with her, or something?

[ Terry has almost no intention of wandering too far off of the porch -- at least the roof of the house gives some partial shade where he stands, otherwise he'd resemble a lobster more than a demon. It'd probably be economical to shut the door all the way behind him, but he can feel a little of the cooler air from inside this way, so he leaves it ajar.

At Reiner's question, Terry makes a light half-scoffing noise in response. ]

Believe it or not, I really like her. [ Not that he'd ever admit that with April listening. ] We worked together for a long time, in the universe before this one. She's... Kinda like a big sister. With raccoon powers.

[ Reiner glances over, raising an eyebrow skeptically, though he can believe it -- even without having met April, he at least knows a relationship kind of like that himself. At least on the surface of things, it sounds like how he is with Annie.

Thoughtfully, he agrees: ]

Yeah, that can happen -- I know someone like that, although I doubt she'd like me calling her a friend. [ He reaches upward to trim some higher branches, then, after something of a pause: ] You don't mean your home universe, do you? How long has it been since you've been back there?

[ He can safely say at least that April's never been afraid of him -- and that carries a weight he would struggle to articulate out loud. Especially to someone he doesn't know very well yet. Still, given their brief interaction, it could be worse. It could be a lot worse. Reiner's not so bad. Tolerable, even.

That line of thought makes Terry more amenable to answering Reiner's question. ]

I've been an Import... [ He exhales, counting in his head. ] Almost six years, on and off. Some of it I don't remember, but people told me about it. This time around? Like two and a half years.

[ He glances off a bit, absently picking lint off his skinny jeans. ]

Seen a lot of people come and go, or whatever. You almost kinda get used to it.

[ Six years. Reiner doesn't vocalize his surprise, but he does pause in his hedge-trimming to give Terry a slightly startled look. ]

So that's possible... [ Though he did say "on and off." ] Does that happen often, where you don't remember everything? Damn, that's kind of creepy, isn't it? You're really calm about it.

[ It's creepy to him, at least, but he's got enough experience with not remembering parts of his own life. ]

I guess it's like that anywhere -- you never know what'll happen.

For me? I think it happened twice. I'd tell for you sure, but I don't actually remember -- not remembering. Or. Yeah.

[ Awkward. He's already saying more than he would to most people. Probably better not to go into all the details -- then his cynicism about everything would be exposed in its full, teen angst glory. Maybe it's just been a while since he's actually talked to anyone about this stuff. ]

It just becomes normal, after a while. Which I guess is kinda messed up, but. [ He shrugs, to play it off. ] It wasn't like my life back home was any better.

[ Reiner smirks at that -- vaguely, anyway -- but nods his head slowly in understanding, maybe even sympathy to an extent. To him this seems like a normal talk despite the abnormal subject matter, but Reiner has always been good at that; earning trust or easily coaxing conversation. ]

That would bother me for sure. I hate forgetting anything.

[ He shakes his head a little at that, gaze somewhere distant before he moves on from clipping, trimming just a couple more leaves as a finishing touch before he glances back over at Terry. ]

I'll be really bummed out if you tell me you're dead or something where you come from. Uh -- you're not, right?

What? No.

[ Well. ]

I mean, technically I can't die. So.

[ Yeah, casual nineteen-year-old immortal. No big deal. Terry awkwardly lifts a hand and rubs the back of his neck, glancing off a little bit before he looks back at Reiner again. ]

I've kinda been dead. Before. That sucked. But it didn't stick. [ A beat then, before he adds as an after thought: ] Wait, you aren't dead where you come from, are you?

[ Ah, good; Reiner looks relieved, setting aside his shears. Weird, but good. He's not immortal, per se, but very close to it -- he ages but can't die easily. ]

Here, or--? Can people come back to life where you're from? [ He'll never get used to that. He shakes his head and gives Terry a thumbs up. ] Don't worry. I'm not yet and sure don't plan to be anytime soon. I just know that for some people... I guess that's their situation.

It's not a home world thing. It's a me thing.

[ He doesn't sound proud of it though -- not really. If anything, he sounds a little between self-conscious and almost a bit dismissive, like he's talking about it but he isn't sure that he wants to be and he doesn't want his uncertainty to show. ]

I'm... Kind of a demon? Like, my dad is some supernatural overlord. And an asshole. But I got the powers 'cause of the first thing.

[ A little pause then, because as used to the "dead when I go back" thing as he's gotten, it still never stops sucking. ]

Either way, you can't change people's situations, I guess.

[ "It's a me thing," Terry says. Strangely, Reiner can relate to that the most of anything they've said so far in this conversation. He knows from "me things," all right, even though he's no demon.

But he's only vaguely aware of what a demon even is. ]

Were you born with them? [ Because that would be different. ] I don't really know much about demons, to be honest. Do you do anything else?

[ He nods, though, in acknowledgement, shrugging slightly. ]

Just your own, right? Or people you care about.

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mixed up as a milkshake, but make no mistake

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