marty and a vampire

[darkov]

WHO: Cassidy, Marty
WHERE: Maurtia Falls
WHEN: June
WHAT: the cr that was promised
WARNINGS: mentions of death probs!


Yeah.

[Martin replies in a soft bit of a grunt, the communicator set on his knees as he listens. on the other end, it's Andy's voice in her familiar unhappy drawl.

So, I won't be done until much later. Sorry, kiddo.]

It's alright. I understand. I can walk home.

[You sure? I could call Archie--]

It's not far. I know the way.

[...Alright. Just...

in that lapse, Martin exhales slowly, already starting to get up to his feet.]

I'll be safe.

[Yeah. Alright. See you later, kiddo.]

Yeah. Goodbye.

[after the click, Martin sighs again, squinting out across the street from behind his aviators. it's warm...the uncomfortably warm season's starting up. it makes the air feel thicker, the sun more oppressive, and his mood more grim. this should be a bright, normal day, but...]

Comments

[crassidy]

[It should be a bright normal day. But... there's a not so normal guy nearby. His clothing could almost be considered normal for once, if a little worn in his own pair of aviators, scruffy jeans, army boots, faded tee and a leather jacket that's seen better days. The unusualness comes from the large umbrella he's got slung over his shoulder, and the way he's very intently staring at Martin as he approaches.

Honestly, if he'd got there in time, he'd have call bombed, but it's probably for the best that he shuffled over a little too late.

Instead he's just awkwardly here, gesturing vaguely towards the kid (and being very careful to keep his hand under the shade of that umbrella).]

Oi, you know Andy?! I'd recognise that miserable sod's voice anywhere. [An insult that's said with a high amount of affection.]

[darkov]

[this stranger just suddenly here and addressing him startles Martin, who gawks for a beat, unresponsive, while he tries to get a sense of the guy.

he's...no, he doesn't know him. he's pretty sure?]

Uh-- [blinkblink.] Uh, ye-yes. Yes, that's...that was Andy... [he hesitates.] Are you her friend? Or-?

[crassidy]

[Okay. He can see how suddenly having a random dude approach a kid like this could be considered kind of weird, so Cassidy makes a point of grinning broadly to try and soften his appearance.

Fuck, maybe that's just as weird. Maybe he shouldn't be approaching random in the street.]

Oh, yah! We're best mates, me and her, go way back, we do. One time, 'round the back of a McDonalds we-- [Wait. Wait that's not a tale to tell to kids either.] -- ate... McDonalds. [Nice save.]

Brilliant lass, real good pal. You uh, you like her kid or somethin'?

[darkov]

[what a...strange person. not that Martin has much room to judge, but...huh.

so back "in the day" they ate fast food? okay.

his head dips a little, timid.]

I'm... [well, she's called him her son more than several times. he swallows.] Ye-yeah. I'm...I'm her kid.

[crassidy]

Ah, brilliant!

[As if he wasn't cheerful enough already, that confirmation just gets him brightening even more. It would appear it doesn't take much to get this guy excited.]

Lucky lady, to have a fella like you for a kid. Seem like a real nice lad, so you do. C'mon, I'll walk with yeh, make sure you get back alright, never know what weirdos are about.

[A jerk of his head in the direction he thinks Marty may have been headed?! But he's lingering for the kid to take the lead, because honestly he has no clue what way they're meant to be going.]

[darkov]

[present weirdo excluded, of course. Martin hesitates, looking him up and down. the umbrella is weird...it's not even raining!

but he was going to walk home anyway. if this guy is really her friend, then it's alright, right?]

Um...right, but...who are you?

[he just appeared, talking about Andy. not himself.]

[crassidy]

[Totally not a weirdo.]

Huh? Oh! Right.

[Silly him. An introduction would totally help.

He starts to shove a tattooed hand forward to shake, pauses when it reaches the outskirts of the shade provided, then starts to awkwardly try and lean forward with his entire body and the umbrella. It's a weird attempt at a handshake, but the offer is there if Marty chooses to take it.]

I'm Cassidy. Mate of your ma's... but, you already know that.

And you're... uh...? [Shit, he doesn't even know Andy's kid's name? What a terrible friend he is.]

[darkov]

Martin...

[had he been more familiar with normal conventions, that gesture would be weirder. but as it stands, he just shakes the hand as it's offered, though very briefly. he doesn't really get that whole handshake business.

Cassidy... he wonders if he's overheard the name in passing. kind of hard to be sure; it sounds similar to Cassandra.]

[crassidy]

Martin! Right.

[He feels like maybe he should have known that. Maybe he did, somewhere in the back of his mind, but Cassidy's memory isn't exactly all that great to begin with. Shitty lifestyle choices will do that to you.]

So you need anythin', Martin? We can pick shite up on the way. Ice cream? Impocreat trading cards? Yoyo? I dunno what the kids are into these days, mate, I'll be honest.

[darkov]

Oh--n-no, I'm alright. [he shakes his head a little.

then, talking more toward the ground:] I don't...really know what kids are into, either.

[crassidy]

Great, then we're on even footing then, are we not? Don't matter what kids are into anyways, hows about we find out what Martin is into, eh?

[Wandering off down the street with his umbrella balanced jauntily over a shoulder, still angled to keep him safely in the shade.]

[darkov]

Me? Uh-- [shrugs the bag on his shoulder to settle better.] I...I knit things. Patterns I'm given, I...I can't make them on my own, like. Thinking them up on my own, I mean. I've been trying it with string and beads, too... Well-not. Not knitting. Weaving. It's kind of the same. A little.

...But not really...

[crassidy]

Oh, you knit?! I've tried that before, not too good at it meself, don't think I got the patience for it. [No judgement for it though! He kind of wishes he could knit instead of smoke crack, it's probably way better for his health and a lot cheaper.]

You wanna go get some wool. Or... whatever the shite you knit with? Get some of the really good stuff, make a bomb arse scarf with it or the like.

[darkov]

Is...that...different than a regular scarf?

[like. he legit can't tell. this guy's manner of speaking is quite different!]

[crassidy]

[He can't help the snorting laugh from that question. This kid is adorable.]

Yeah, it's like a regular scarf but way better. Used the best wool and knitted by the best lad, see, makes it bomb arse. Proper good, like. No scarf is regular when it's got a lad like you knitting it.

[darkov]

Hhhow would...? I mean--how would that make any difference? I, I can only follow a pattern.

[crassidy]

[A lopsided shrug as he peers down at the boy.]

It's about the love and time yeh put into it, is it not? It's about giving a shite.

[darkov]

Oh.

[a few steps are taken in silence.

quietly:] I...don't know what a shite is.

[crassidy]

[Wait.

Fuck.

Is he not meant to swear in front of this kid? Shit, he hopes not, that's basically an impossible task for him.]

It's uh. It's like caring hard about something. If you give a shite, you care real hard about it, and I can already tell you care 'bout a whole buncha things.

[darkov]

[...oh.]

So it's...like giving a shit.

[Andy.jpg]

[crassidy]

Yeah!

[He sounds way too relieved to hear Martin say that.]

Exactly like giving a shit. Just... [How do he explain...] In Irish.

[darkov]

[that...explains nothing. but Martin's getting the sense that if he keeps trying to explain, it'll just be explanations all the way down. no end. he's not that smart about...much!

sometimes, giving up is the right thing:] I, I see. Sorry. I never heard of that before, I guess.

[crassidy]

Ah, don't worry yerself. Half the folk I meet don't understand a bleedin' word I'm saying. Y'get used to it.

[He doesn't sound offended by it, in fact Marty gets an forgiving little pat on the shoulder. Until Cass realises that Martin's not under the shade of his umbrella and, after a quick smoke and sizzle of skin and a choice swear word, his hand quickly retreats back into the shade and away from sunlight.]

[darkov]

[a sizzle? Martin does a double-take, blinking, having to slow to a near-stop.]

Um. Uh, are...are you alright? Sir?

[because even if his ears were tricking him, he can kind of smell? burnt skin??]

[crassidy]

[You'd think after nearly a century, he'd remember the sun exists and hurts, but doing dumb mistakes is kind of his forte.]

Totally fine. That was just what they call a uh, oversight? Here, look...

[This time he only extends his index finger out into the sunlight, which almost instantly starts to smoke and, seconds later, bursts into flames. He leaves it there briefly, before pulling it back, shaking his hand to put out the flames with no apparent concern.]

Bit of a party trick, great for lighting ciggies.