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maskormenacelogs2020-05-05 01:16 pm
republicrelic) wrote in maskormenacelogs2020-05-05 01:16 pm
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. ]
ct_7567), all aged up to Grandpa Rex & YOUWHERE: 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
long time no see, he says, as if he really hadn't seen him earlier in the morning! that's...frustrating in a weird-yet-familiar way.
kriff.]
Y-yes, you--did say that. [he gulps, easing out of mid-movement posture, his feet now glued in place.] But it wasn't long for me. [his expression scrunches as he realizes he doesn't know what to say, which goes right along with not knowing how to feel.
mostly.]
You still remembered, though. [and it wasn't him days disappearing, either.]
no subject
[ He crosses the distance between the two of them for him. There's no playbook for this, no how to comfort your son when you come back looking like his grandfather, no rules for how to make him feel comfortable and at home again when you yourself are so different.
Rex would like to hug him, but he knows better than to cross that divide. Instead, he puts one hand on Martin's shoulder, lifting the other to cup briefly at the side of his face, lifting his chin up so he can get a good look at him. ]
I'm still me, Martin. Older. Different, perhaps. But I'm still your father. All right?
no subject
it helps, too, that he's not covered in fresh scars and suffering.
Martin looks up with wide, searching eyes, as if he could scope out some sign of betrayal or falsehood. but there isn't any -- just Rex.
and that beard.
(definitely not like Grandfather now...)
his chest tightens automatically at the affirmation, and Martin's mouth pulls in a familiar way -- the way where he's straining to not emote too openly and show how affected he is.
it's a wasted effort, when his voice sounds the way it does:] Yes, sir.
[with a gulp, he ducks his head, leaning forward and against him.]
no subject
Whatever Martin saw in Rex's eyes, it had been enough to reassure him that the man he knew was still in there. ]
It's all right, lad, [ he says, little comforting nothings. ] It'll turn out. I'm still here.
no subject
clinging to clone armor isn't the coziest of things, but Martin lingers a bit just to soak up the reassurances murmured and the weight of the hand on his head for a little while before withdrawing with a little sniff, blinking away the mist in his eyes.]
Did...anything else change, too? Andy?
no subject
He wishes he could reassure Martin that he's the same as he's ever been too, just in a different body, but that's not true. And even if he's only here for days, not weeks, Martin will catch onto it being a lie too. He's a smart one, Martin. More observant than anyone seems to give him credit for. ]
She and I have talked already. [ He's not certain that Martin's even aware that his age might change things between the two of them, their relationship nebulously defined between the two of them, let alone to their son. ]
We've agreed that even if this change is permanent, nothing of substance will change.
no subject
he almost wants to ask if Rex even remembered here if it was really so long ago for him now, but going down that road would be strenuous for the heart -- both hearts, probably.
so while what Rex says can't be certain, it's also not a lie. the nuance of these sorts of things is getting easier to reconcile, which means it's easier for Martin to nod now.]
Okay. [his brow pinches for a moment; he's still testing the way that word works, ever unsure of its meaning.
that aside, though...
while his head tilts:] ...But...are your...clothes going to fit now?
no subject
All this time, and everyone's still so surprised that I might pack on a pound or two. I'm still in good shape for an old man, I'll have you know.
[ His lip twitches, betraying he may not be entirely serious. ]
You'll be the same when you're my age, I bet. [ Or... equivalent of. ] It's fine. We've got money. I'll buy some new ones.
no subject
...wait a second. why does he have a beard now? what was that about teaching him to shave? did he forget?
so many stupid questions.]
...Yessir. [nothing of substance has changed, Rex says. but a lot changed, and that's substantial to Martin.
it's at least easier to take in stride than it used to be, even if there'll be an ever-present nervous flutter in his stomach because of it; that just seems to be the consequence of caring and living this life now.]
Sorry for...being scared, then.
no subject
[ He doesn't think he'll be appreciably different to Martin, around Martin. He always tried to give Martin the best of him, whatever that looked like. He doesn't intend for that to change. But he's different now. That much is true. ]
This is better than the last time, though, isn't it?
no subject
Yessir. You remember me, so. It's a lot better now.
[the beard is still weird, though.
didn't he mention helping him learn to shave before...?]
no subject
[ That said, Martin seems content with the answers he's been given. ]
You got any other questions, kid, or did you want to get right back to it?
no subject
Back to...? Uh, I'm--work is done tonight, so...back to what? Sorry.
no subject
Back to life as you know it. Normalcy, or as much as we can scrounge up. If you've got questions, I can answer them, but otherwise all we can do is what we always do.
[ And Martin wouldn't... okay, Martin would sometimes just stand and stare at him, but that hasn't been the case for a very long time indeed. ]
no subject
[he blinks, staring past him for a moment. did he have other questions?
probably.
but any right there in the front of his head? not really. he's still just trying to take stock of all this information.
he shakes his head slightly before snapping out of it, realizing he's shaking his head to conversations in his head and not the man in front of him.]
Sorry. Sorry, I--yes. That...that's fine, what you said. Normal.
...As much as...there is...yes. Yessir.