[He's quiet for a tiny bit, before the sound of him going for the Cracker Jacks comes from the living room. He's trying to keep it quiet, but it's hard when you have short fingers with no real nails. Rachel grunts and pokes it open for him, and he mumbles a thank you before starting to munch and turn the pages in his book. So many bird things... they don't look like any birds he knows, though.]
[The kitchen, at least, is fairly neat. Tobias - at least the older version of him - has tried to keep it tidy. There's not an overabundance of food and cooking supplies, but there's enough. After a few minutes, Tobias wanders into the kitchen, having left the book and blanket on the couch but bringing the snack with him.]
There's some pots in the cabinet up there. I saw them but I couldn't get a chair the right height.
[York's tall enough to grab a saucepan of the right size and put some water on to boil. He looks for the salt for a minute, adds a little to the water, and then puts that away. The whole time, he's careful not to look too much at Tobias, and when he does meet his eyes, it's with an easy smile. Doesn't want the kid to feel like he's a threat in here, he's just trying to keep things natural.
He checks the expiration date on the tortellini package, nods to himself, and sets it back down.]
[He looks away when York tries to meet his eyes, but he doesn't leave. He puts the Cracker Jacks back on the counter, careful not to tip them over. A Cubchoo wanders into the kitchen, tilting his head at the whole scene.]
Choo?
[Tobias turns and looks at him, freezing for a moment before crouching.]
H... hey there. Are... are you one of Rachel's friends?
[The Cubchoo stares for a moment, before nodding. He toddles up to York, looking up with wide eyes and a snotty nose.]
[The Cubchoo waves back, and toddles over to Rachel, who leads him out of the kitchen. Apparently he was just being friendly. Tobias stands up and looks at North. The nickname confuses him, but he nods.]
I... I should save some for later. You can't have too much. ... I can help if you need. I know how to make pasta. M... my aunt showed me how. A-and most of the time my uncle has me m-make my own dinner.
[Man. Would it be bad karma to find a way to zip back in time to another dimension and set someone's house on fire? York's got no interest in living life on the run from the law again, but...]
It's all right, slugger. Even an old vet like me can boil water for pasta. You wanna watch TV while we wait? [Hang on.] Or do some drawings? No one'll mind if you take a little paper, I'm sure.
[... He looks down and hunches up his shoulders again.]
But... I get yelled at when I draw. M'supposed to pay attention to things... and not... just draw. I... I'll just go read again... and then I won't be moving anyone's stuff. E-except the book, but I'll put it back...
[He wanders back into the living room and curls up in the blanket again, flipping through the book idly.]
York keeps cooking, periodically looking in on Tobias to make sure he's all right, but he's already enough of a presence in this place without speaking up and overwhelming him. After a while, once he can shake the dark mood thinking about this kid's upbringing calls up, he starts humming to himself as he works, so at least there's no creepy silence to break. Eventually, pasta getto! York drains it and takes down a couple plates.]
Okay, man, soup's on. Did you want sauce? I forget what you told me.
[He scoops a good-sized portion out for Tobias and does the same for himself, and sets both plates down at the table. Also, forks, because he's not a loser like Asher who forgets these things and gets up like five times before he actually starts eating.]
Kinda surprised you caught that. I figure most kids your age woulda thought veterinarian.
[York pauses for a moment. He can't remember the last time someone thanked him for his military service; it's not like he deserves it. But his face softens anyway and he sits.]
I decided to fight hoping that someday, they wouldn't. Have to, I mean.
[He scoots his chair in and gestures at Tobias's plate with his fork.]
Go ahead, dig in, kid. There's a little left in the pot, too, let me know if you want seconds when you're done.
[He does dig in, trying to keep from eating too fast but... he can't really help it. He's hungry, and even if he knows he should pace himself he's not convinced that he's going to actually get seconds. He gets served last, doesn't he?]
You should go ahead and have it if you want more. You're the one who cooked it.
Great. Okay, let me make sure you have my number. Uh, you seen a pen around?
[Tobias should already have his number in his 'Gear, but, y'know. Gotta keep up appearances and all, minimize freaking out the kid as much as possible.]
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wing_attack) wrote2020-08-01 12:52 am
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[The kitchen, at least, is fairly neat. Tobias - at least the older version of him - has tried to keep it tidy. There's not an overabundance of food and cooking supplies, but there's enough. After a few minutes, Tobias wanders into the kitchen, having left the book and blanket on the couch but bringing the snack with him.]
There's some pots in the cabinet up there. I saw them but I couldn't get a chair the right height.
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[York's tall enough to grab a saucepan of the right size and put some water on to boil. He looks for the salt for a minute, adds a little to the water, and then puts that away. The whole time, he's careful not to look too much at Tobias, and when he does meet his eyes, it's with an easy smile. Doesn't want the kid to feel like he's a threat in here, he's just trying to keep things natural.
He checks the expiration date on the tortellini package, nods to himself, and sets it back down.]
So, hey, do you like tomato sauce or just butter?
[Did he bring tomato sauce? He thinks so...]
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Choo?
[Tobias turns and looks at him, freezing for a moment before crouching.]
H... hey there. Are... are you one of Rachel's friends?
[The Cubchoo stares for a moment, before nodding. He toddles up to York, looking up with wide eyes and a snotty nose.]
Choo!
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[York doesn't get down, leaving the kid his space, but he does smile and wave at the Cubchoo.]
You know, I got one of those for my friend? They remind me of him. His is grown up now, though. You done with these, T-bird?
[He picks up the Cracker Jacks to make sure they're sealed up and put away properly, if Tobias is.]
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I... I should save some for later. You can't have too much. ... I can help if you need. I know how to make pasta. M... my aunt showed me how. A-and most of the time my uncle has me m-make my own dinner.
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It's all right, slugger. Even an old vet like me can boil water for pasta. You wanna watch TV while we wait? [Hang on.] Or do some drawings? No one'll mind if you take a little paper, I'm sure.
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But... I get yelled at when I draw. M'supposed to pay attention to things... and not... just draw. I... I'll just go read again... and then I won't be moving anyone's stuff. E-except the book, but I'll put it back...
[He wanders back into the living room and curls up in the blanket again, flipping through the book idly.]
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[Arson is such a comforting thought, sometimes.
York keeps cooking, periodically looking in on Tobias to make sure he's all right, but he's already enough of a presence in this place without speaking up and overwhelming him. After a while, once he can shake the dark mood thinking about this kid's upbringing calls up, he starts humming to himself as he works, so at least there's no creepy silence to break. Eventually, pasta getto! York drains it and takes down a couple plates.]
Okay, man, soup's on. Did you want sauce? I forget what you told me.
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S-sorry, I never said. Just butter's fine...
[He climbs up onto a chair and sits down, resisting the urge to curl his knees up into his chest.]
You said 'vet'... were you a soldier?
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[He scoops a good-sized portion out for Tobias and does the same for himself, and sets both plates down at the table. Also, forks, because he's not a loser like Asher who forgets these things and gets up like five times before he actually starts eating.]
Kinda surprised you caught that. I figure most kids your age woulda thought veterinarian.
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[... What's he's supposed to say? Oh.]
Th... thank you for your s... service. Even if... I don't think people should have to fight.
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I decided to fight hoping that someday, they wouldn't. Have to, I mean.
[He scoots his chair in and gestures at Tobias's plate with his fork.]
Go ahead, dig in, kid. There's a little left in the pot, too, let me know if you want seconds when you're done.
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[He does dig in, trying to keep from eating too fast but... he can't really help it. He's hungry, and even if he knows he should pace himself he's not convinced that he's going to actually get seconds. He gets served last, doesn't he?]
You should go ahead and have it if you want more. You're the one who cooked it.
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[Okay, no, York is a big muscley soldier dude, he obviously eats a ton.]
Don't worry about me. I've still got food at home if I'm hungry later. Think there's still leftovers from what North cooked last night...
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[Because how do friends, we don't even know at this point.]
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Yeah, it is.
[He takes another bite, then twirls his fork a little.]
Especially since North's a much better cook than me or Carolina. He spoils us, I'm telling you.
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That sounds nice. It must be nice to have friends... like that...
[His books are friends, that's about it.]
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[He offers it lightly, carefully.]
North would be happy to cook for you, he's great with kids. And Carolina, she'd love someone to show off to.
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[It's bad enough he's in a stranger's house right now.]
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[He pats the pocket where his 'Gear is.]
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[He went Full Nerd again, didn't he?]
A-anyway, I can probably figure it out.
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[Tobias should already have his number in his 'Gear, but, y'know. Gotta keep up appearances and all, minimize freaking out the kid as much as possible.]
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