republicrelic (
republicrelic) wrote in
maskormenacelogs2020-05-05 01:16 pm
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OPEN
WHO: Captain Rex (ordinarily
ct_7567), all aged up to Grandpa Rex & YOU
WHERE: In his home in Maurtia Falls, generally around Maurtia Falls!
WHEN: Throughout the Feywild Event
WHAT: Rex is all aged up physically & mentally and, somehow, tries to carry on his normal life.
WARNINGS: Probable canon-appropriate discussions of war, but nothing much! If you'd like a dedicated starter, please feel free to wildcard it up or plot with me through PM/chat with me on plurk @ wisdombitch!
o1. home.
[ Rex winds up spending most of his time at home. It seems easier that way, where he can get his bearings and choose who comes in and who comes out. Anyone who sees him will see that he's changed, of course. He's put on weight, his unnaturally skinny frame good and filled out by now, skin dark and covered densely in freckles from too much time left in the sun, but his demeanor's different too. More comfortable in some ways and less comfortable than others, but people have rarely seen him kick his legs up before.
At least now he's figured out how to cook. If you come to visit around mealtime, you might even come to the smell of bacon crackling merrily away on the stove, Rex standing before it and poking it around with a fork. He might not be so nice to look at - not that anyone considered him as such except for Andy - but at least you'll get something to eat from him other than bacon burnt to a crisp or under-rendered and flabby. It's a trade-off. ]
o2. gossip.
[ The last time Rex was here - last month, in fact - he had been the subject of some gossip from some of the bored househusbands and housewives he'd gotten to know at Martin's soccer practices, gleeful over that brand new ring on his finger. Now, it's something else entirely as he stumbles upon them having coffee outdoors together, heads simultaneously turning to gawk unashamedly at Rex, now much, much older. When he confirms that he is indeed Rex, he takes one look at their faces, plants his hands on his hips and lets out a sharp bark of laughter, more mirthful than most get the chance to see him. ]
Hah! Not so interested now, are you? And here I'm more age appropriate for you now than I was before.
[ He even winks at one before he walks away, chuckling to himself at their scandalized expressions. ] Ladies. Gentlemen.
[ He really didn't enjoy this enough when he had the chance. He's aware that he's probably a sight, mouth twisting underneath that snow-white beard, still stubbornly wearing that old, scratched up chestplate and gauntlets of his, evidently too secure in them to even play at trying to fit in more the way he did before. He can't quite bring himself to care. ]
o3. headbutts.
[ Rex technically looks like an easier target now, especially on the mean streets of Maurtia Falls, but he's far from harmless. Which is why when he gets approached by a motley group of muggers (there really aren't enough of them to take him on, he thinks), one of them hooking his hand into the divot of Rex's armour and tugging him towards him, sneering, give it up old man, Rex operates on instinct alone.
What this means isn't that he punches the man. It doesn't mean that he reaches for his blasters, hidden underneath the coat he's wearing over the whole ensemble. It means that he rears his head back and headbutts the man as hard as he can. The man goes down and Rex grimaces, rubbing at his forehead. He's really got to stop doing that. It's not good for what brain cells he's got left. ]
o4. coffeeshop.
[ It's one thing to be on the move. It's another entirely to actually slow and take in where he is and how different it is from where he's been. To become used to this when he was still a young man had been an upward climb after the life he'd had. Now, he may be better equipped to exist in public as a concept but after years of relative solitude, of being on the run, of scarcely being able to show his face for fear of what would happen next save for in the seemingly endless bunkers and ships of the rebellion, it's hard. Maybe it was never destined to be easy for him.
He finds a corner to sit in facing the door as he sits and watches the people come in and out, not a care in the world, gaze distant and faraway. It's not so odd, seeing someone sit and quietly drink their caf, but his knuckles are white where they're gripping onto the handle of the cup. ]
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WHERE: In his home in Maurtia Falls, generally around Maurtia Falls!
WHEN: Throughout the Feywild Event
WHAT: Rex is all aged up physically & mentally and, somehow, tries to carry on his normal life.
WARNINGS: Probable canon-appropriate discussions of war, but nothing much! If you'd like a dedicated starter, please feel free to wildcard it up or plot with me through PM/chat with me on plurk @ wisdombitch!
o1. home.
[ Rex winds up spending most of his time at home. It seems easier that way, where he can get his bearings and choose who comes in and who comes out. Anyone who sees him will see that he's changed, of course. He's put on weight, his unnaturally skinny frame good and filled out by now, skin dark and covered densely in freckles from too much time left in the sun, but his demeanor's different too. More comfortable in some ways and less comfortable than others, but people have rarely seen him kick his legs up before.
At least now he's figured out how to cook. If you come to visit around mealtime, you might even come to the smell of bacon crackling merrily away on the stove, Rex standing before it and poking it around with a fork. He might not be so nice to look at - not that anyone considered him as such except for Andy - but at least you'll get something to eat from him other than bacon burnt to a crisp or under-rendered and flabby. It's a trade-off. ]
o2. gossip.
[ The last time Rex was here - last month, in fact - he had been the subject of some gossip from some of the bored househusbands and housewives he'd gotten to know at Martin's soccer practices, gleeful over that brand new ring on his finger. Now, it's something else entirely as he stumbles upon them having coffee outdoors together, heads simultaneously turning to gawk unashamedly at Rex, now much, much older. When he confirms that he is indeed Rex, he takes one look at their faces, plants his hands on his hips and lets out a sharp bark of laughter, more mirthful than most get the chance to see him. ]
Hah! Not so interested now, are you? And here I'm more age appropriate for you now than I was before.
[ He even winks at one before he walks away, chuckling to himself at their scandalized expressions. ] Ladies. Gentlemen.
[ He really didn't enjoy this enough when he had the chance. He's aware that he's probably a sight, mouth twisting underneath that snow-white beard, still stubbornly wearing that old, scratched up chestplate and gauntlets of his, evidently too secure in them to even play at trying to fit in more the way he did before. He can't quite bring himself to care. ]
o3. headbutts.
[ Rex technically looks like an easier target now, especially on the mean streets of Maurtia Falls, but he's far from harmless. Which is why when he gets approached by a motley group of muggers (there really aren't enough of them to take him on, he thinks), one of them hooking his hand into the divot of Rex's armour and tugging him towards him, sneering, give it up old man, Rex operates on instinct alone.
What this means isn't that he punches the man. It doesn't mean that he reaches for his blasters, hidden underneath the coat he's wearing over the whole ensemble. It means that he rears his head back and headbutts the man as hard as he can. The man goes down and Rex grimaces, rubbing at his forehead. He's really got to stop doing that. It's not good for what brain cells he's got left. ]
o4. coffeeshop.
[ It's one thing to be on the move. It's another entirely to actually slow and take in where he is and how different it is from where he's been. To become used to this when he was still a young man had been an upward climb after the life he'd had. Now, he may be better equipped to exist in public as a concept but after years of relative solitude, of being on the run, of scarcely being able to show his face for fear of what would happen next save for in the seemingly endless bunkers and ships of the rebellion, it's hard. Maybe it was never destined to be easy for him.
He finds a corner to sit in facing the door as he sits and watches the people come in and out, not a care in the world, gaze distant and faraway. It's not so odd, seeing someone sit and quietly drink their caf, but his knuckles are white where they're gripping onto the handle of the cup. ]
no subject
15 years. He did the mental math in his head - that was another thirty years relative age. And Endor--
His eyes light up. ]
Endor? Wait! Does that mean you saw my dad??
no subject
[ And, right on cue, a familiar car drives into Poe's driveway -- and out steps someone who's not quite as familiar, though that armour, beaten and battered though it is, is certainly familiar. Rex is heavier set these days in a way that looks as though he's finally filled out properly, skin dark from time spent in the sun, skin dappled with freckles and, of course, there's that beard.
He raises a hand in Poe's direction as he strides forward, pocketing the communicator as he does so. ]
It means I saw you too. But last I saw you, you were bouncing on my knee. We were passing you around like a sack of potatoes.
[ Everyone loves Poe. Everyone loved babies, really, even ones with no parenting instincts of their own. Poe was a symbol of new life in the wake of all of that wreckage, a new era of kids that could be raised outside of the shadow of war, so that people like Shara and Kes could have a shot at raising their kid properly.
Not that that worked according to plan. But Rex won't begrudge that moment, nor that celebration. Whatever came next, they'd earned it. He takes Poe in, older now, smile lines already forming at the corners of his eyes, but alive and well. ]
Good to see you all grown up, kid.
no subject
Rex looks extremely huggable, right now.
He laughs and gives him a squeeze. ]
Yeah, yeah, I bet you were! Dad told me all the stories. [ He grins, then pulls back, hands on Rex's biceps. ]
Don't look so bad for an old man, either.
no subject
Ahh, I've got some fight left in me yet, I'll grant you that.
[ All right, so he's downplaying himself a little -- but when you survive not by being a clone but by being a harmless old man who's just trying to sell his wares in the desert villages of Seelos, sometimes you get used to that sort of thing. ]
And now I can tell you if your old man was exaggerating or not.
no subject
[ He let go of Rex's arms and then waved him over into the garden. ]
Come on, come on, I've got a couple chairs set up, you can lounge while I play in the dirt. You want a drink? I've got beer or lemonade but not a hell lot else in between.
no subject
[ He ambles through the gates, looking at the work that Poe's already done. He can appreciate what Poe's built here more now, all the work he's put into trying to make this place a home. Make it lived in, even when there aren't as many people living here as there once was. ]
I'll take that beer after we finish. What are we looking at here?
no subject
Alright, alright. Don't say I didn't warn you.
[ He points to the trays of little plants. ]
Blue berries, black berries, raspberries. Gonna plant them between the trees in the orchard. Pretty straight forward. The blueberries go on the edges near the pine trees, they need the ground to be more acidic.
no subject
[ Not that he ever figured out how to grow food either. He tried - succeeded a little, but only with little plants indoors, barely anything to write home about - but even settled down, it was easier just to go to the grocery store. He grabs the trowel and picks up a couple of the little plastic pots, peering at their labels. ]
This, [ he muses aloud, ] is more in line with the sort of life your folks had in mind for you.
no subject
[ He grabs a little shovel for himself, and swings one of the pots up under his arm before giving Rex a bemused look. ]
My folks? My dad, you mean.
no subject
He props his forearm up on his shovel. ]
No. If I meant just your dad, I would say so. Parent, singular. I worked with both of your parents. You know that.