And uh. Well, gotta let someone else be the hero for a little while, right? Plenty to see here, I mean, we're underwater this is some pretty wild stuff.
If you're by the palace gate area (I think that's what it is), hit me up. There's only so many fish a guy can watch swim by before it gets old.
[He spends a second, fingers hovering over the keyboard, to talk himself out of making a netflix and chill joke. That's not even a thing people actually say anymore and besides, even if Cayde did get it, it'd be weird. It's too early into - into, whatever, into being friends who might or might not fuck again - for Hank to get weird. Play it cool.]
ill hit u up w some of this shit so u can taste the details 4 urself. only got 1/2 a bottle tho. ill go toward the gate n u can just tackle me or sumthin wen u see me?
[Why does sarcasm not translate very well through text? A shame, really.]
Gonna have to pass on the wonderful, exotic fish whiskey for now so you go and enjoy it, man. Can't actually drink anything thanks to this whole fun water world we got going on. And tackle, got it. No complaining if you break something or something.
[The only trick Hank's done so far is freak the hell out, but as good a comeback as that would be keeping Cayde from finding out how together Hank's shit isn't looks like it's a priority now, so. Hank will be keeping that particular response all to himself.]
idk if u didnt break me last time i dont think u have 2 worry ;D
[Hank pulls a face at his watch, starting his swim toward the gate without really looking at where he's going. Was that too much? That last part, with the wink? That was too much, wasn't it. Shit.]
[This is fine, this is totally normal. This is what friends do.
Still, he takes a moment to fiddle with his watch as he waits, because it's easier than watching the mermaids tend to the injured. When Hank finally shows up in the corner of his vision it's a blessing, and while it's hard to look cool when floating underwater like an idiot but by the Traveler he's going to try.]
[The grin when Hank sees him is pretty much out of Hank's control. The look Hank gives him - down and up, obviously appreciating what he sees - that's more deliberate. Got to let a guy know you're still interested, right?]
God, you're a sight for sore eyes. Wet eyes. Whatever the fuck it is down here.
[Well, that worked. Hank's grin doesn't falter, though - it's always easier in person, more natural even when he doesn't really nail the clever quip, and besides, seeing Cayde really is a relief. He floats to a stop near Cayde, tries for a second to copy his posture, then gives up with a brief, amused noise.]
Shit, how're you doing that? I can't even stand like a normal person without floating the fuck away.
[It's good to see Hank, and Cayde can't help the soft pulse of his lights in return, something relieved and fond and just a bit cheeky all in one because he notices that look, okay.]
Would you believe me if I said this isn't the first time I've been floating aimlessly in an anti-gravity void?
[As if to prove a point, he does his best to lean in and nudge Hank with his shoulder.]
Gotta say, I'm gettin' a little tired of it though. You?
[It probably should have occurred to Hank earlier that he’ll have to watch those lights on Cayde’s face to figure out what they mean. It seems important now, suddenly; enough to make a note of it, anyway. For now he files that particular pattern away as ‘friendly, probably’ and runs a hand through his hair, the laugh he gives in response to the question coming out a little shakier than he meant it to.]
You have no idea.
[He resists the urge to figure out how to lean against someone underwater; if that little nudge let Cayde pick up anything from Hank it wouldn’t have been anything that wasn’t on Hank’s face already. But now that he’s thinking about the whole underwater thing - well, never fucking mind. He pulls his bottle out from the handy dandy pouch on his waist, raising his eyebrows.]
So what’s this shit about not being able to drink here? They got these fancy tops that make it work, like a water bottle or something, just nastier. Just don’t try to take the top off and it’s fine. Sure you don’t want a try?
As much as I would love to try the weird fish whiskey-
[He begins, looking over at the bottle with a single raised brow plate.]
I uh. Well. Okay, it's easier to show, gimme a sec.
[With a wink, he raises a hand, wriggling his fingers for a moment before opening his jaw as wide as he can and sticking them in. A moment later, the fingers are poking out through his cheek, and he gives a little wave.]
[There's a soft snort of amusement and a little, slightly awkward move, he reaches out and snags one of Hank's fingers with the tips of his own and tugs his hand towards the space between the struts of his cheek.]
Wait, seriously? Someone doesn't have a mouth? That sounds pretty bad, not gonna lie. Like I don't have a stomach but that's not even in the same ballpark, erugh.
[Anyone walking by is probably going to think they're nuts: two grown adults sticking hands into weird places while still continuing a sort-of normal conversation.]
And nah, I don't really have to but people like me? We're creative, we find a way.
[His hand tried to clench on its own and he doesn’t fight it, just brushes his fingers along the edges of those struts, fascinated.]
Doesn’t this feel weird? Havin fingers in your face?
[His eyes dart from Cayde’s cheeks to his eyes. He tries to figure out what Cayde might be getting from him now - he’s grateful to be touched even a little bit, like he has been ever since he uh - left Detroit for this nutso place, so that stupid, desperate pull toward contact, that’s a thing. He’s happy to see Cayde too, actually genuinely happy, and the feeling’s tentative and small in a way Hank decides not to think too hard about. If Cayde’s aware of any of that, if any of it’s some kind of issue, Hank might know in a second. He’s ready to pull back the second it looks like he’s making things weird.]
[There's a tug of something that Cayde can't parse through when Hank's fingers brush across the beveled metal along his cheek. His optics flicker once, twice, but then he's got everything under control and he's bringing things back around to a casual sort of comfortable.]
Nah, it only gets a little weird if you stick 'em way in the back and either hit my speaker or jar a system loose 'cause then I'm gonna just kinda drool all over.
[Hank pulls his hand away, distracting himself from how reluctant he is to do that with a thought that makes him smirk. What the hell, go for it. And if this reads like he’s insinuating something, cool, because he absolutely is.]
Kinda like a gag reflex then, huh? That’s good to know.
[That gets an actual bark of laughter a waggle of Cayde's brow plates. Leave it to Hank to pick up on something like that, and leave it to him to roll with it.]
I don't have any idea what you're talking about.
[Sorry not sorry Hank, now you're getting nudged again.]
[Hank nudges Cayde back. He's got his choice of impulses to go with when it comes to this whole touching thing, cause he's still of two minds about it. On one hand, the bullshit in his head isn't the kind of thing he wants to risk spreading around. Ever. He's, let's say, hesitant. That's good enough. Hesitant. But, okay, the last time he and Cayde uh, met up, most of that evening he'd been having too good a time for his case of emotional herpes to flare up and rain on their little parade, but before that? Before that it kind of did fuck things up and Cayde was decent about it. He'd put up with it - and, you know, maybe did a little more than put up with it.
Being around Cayde is fun, it always has been, so Hank steamrollers over his own objections and goes with it.]
This just a- [He nudges Cayde again.] -nervous tic, or what? [And again.] You just gotta- [And one more time.] -for no reason at all? [Hank delivers this last elbow into Cayde's rib-area with raised eyebrows. Getting tired of it yet, Cayde? Cause Hank has not yet begun to pull your fancy metal pigtails.]
[It's a friendly jab though, because really? Really?? There's a certain playfulness that Hank has that's both unexpected and very welcomed, and even just this dumb ribbing helps to break down some of the stress that Cayde was only tangentially aware was building in the back of his brain.
It's nice to have something to think about beyond the attacks.
But he absolutely can't let Hank think that this is okay, even if it is, and so he waits until he's nudged again before flying into action. It's hard, everything is harder underwater, but he works to get a foot planted on the sandy floor and then pushes off the ground with all his might to try and drive a shoulder into Hank's side. It's, admittedly, not the most mature response nor a very effective one, but he's got to give the guy some shit right back, right?]
[Hank makes a surprised, breathless noise at the impact, grinning and trying to grab the arm that shoulder’s attached to before it can get away. His body doesn’t really know what to follow that up with, though - his instinct’s to unbalance and push toward a wall or the ground, but, oops, none of that around here. So he just ends up kicking at the water near Cayde’s feet and reaching for his other arm, then keeps going with his instinct and makes his voice mocking and nasally.]
‘What are you, five?’
[No offense, man. You said it first.]
Come on, is this how a big grown-up robot solves his problems?
If we're goin' on a scale of one to five, I'm definitely a five.
[Curse this lack of proper gravity, it makes slipping out of Hank's grasp that much harder. Cayde's usual theatrics aren't going to be enough, so instead he lets himself be grabbed, moving with Hank until he's working to switch their positions and try to drive the guy into the sand. Because winning, that's why.]
Hey, sometimes I gotta go easy on people. Who else would I talk to if I just completely and totally owned you right now? It'd get boring.
No, I don't know what you're talkin' about and I'd feel bad if I had to whoop you!
[He's laughing through the retort, but it's interrupted by a grunt as Hank's boots make contact with his stomach. It's a genuine surprise, and the water makes it difficult to recover from as it sends him wheeling away. That's dirty, he can appreciate that. But he's not going to let Hank get away with it if he has any say in things, and so even as he's ungracefully propelled away he flails for a moment to try and grab at one of Hank's ankles to pull him with.]
[Shit is Hank glad tucking his shirt in is the first thing he did when he got here. After he'd stopped yelling.
So, he's being yanked back by his own momentum, sort of, and his shirt's not flying up into his face and making him look like a moron so he has that going for him. What he doesn't have going for him is kung fu moves but he doesn't need to - it's not like he's going to arrest Cayde, not unless Cayde asks real nicely. So he just curls up again to try and get close enough to grab Cayde's legs. What's he going to do with them? God knows. He's kind of counting on Cayde retaliating before he has to figure it out.]
[Hank is a far smarter man than he gives himself credit for, because Cayde, who has not given any thought into the difficulties of underwater movement, is now currently regretting his decision to not remove his cape. The fabric, while looking snazzy, wraps around the both of them and makes it hard for him to retaliate proper. The end result is that Cayde's got one leg captured and is currently trying to bend himself in an impossible position to try and free himself.]
Like you could even!
[Not mentioning the fact that this isn't the smoothest fight he's ever been in. Can't give Hank the satisfaction, after all. Instead, he reaches out wildly, trying to get a grip on Hank's shirt to tug him- somewhere, somewhere hopefully that will let Cayde rescue his leg back. Water makes this so much harder.]
[Cayde sure does get a grip on Hank's shirt, and Hank being low enough to grab Cayde's legs right now means that when he gets pulled, his face ends up right, uh... In a place. He laughs, can't help it, and the hands that were on Cayde's leg grab his thigh, Hank trying to use it to move himself around and upright.]
[Hank's face is definitely in a place right now, and were this any other time Cayde would most certainly be making some sort of saucy comment. At the moment?]
Hey, hey, watch the goods!
[At the moment he's yanking on Hank's shirt to try to pull him up and hopefully away from any potential headbutts in unfortunate places.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
3/3
If you're by the palace gate area (I think that's what it is), hit me up. There's only so many fish a guy can watch swim by before it gets old.
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wat u want me 2 entertain u?[He spends a second, fingers hovering over the keyboard, to talk himself out of making a netflix and chill joke. That's not even a thing people actually say anymore and besides, even if Cayde did get it, it'd be weird. It's too early into - into, whatever, into being friends who might or might not fuck again - for Hank to get weird. Play it cool.]
ill hit u up w some of this shit so u can taste the details 4 urself. only got 1/2 a bottle tho. ill go toward the gate n u can just tackle me or sumthin wen u see me?no subject
[Why does sarcasm not translate very well through text? A shame, really.]
Gonna have to pass on the wonderful, exotic fish whiskey for now so you go and enjoy it, man. Can't actually drink anything thanks to this whole fun water world we got going on. And tackle, got it. No complaining if you break something or something.
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idk if u didnt break me last time i dont think u have 2 worry ;D[Hank pulls a face at his watch, starting his swim toward the gate without really looking at where he's going. Was that too much? That last part, with the wink? That was too much, wasn't it. Shit.]
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[This is fine, this is totally normal. This is what friends do.
Still, he takes a moment to fiddle with his watch as he waits, because it's easier than watching the mermaids tend to the injured. When Hank finally shows up in the corner of his vision it's a blessing, and while it's hard to look cool when floating underwater like an idiot but by the Traveler he's going to try.]
Oi, dragonslayer, over here.
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God, you're a sight for sore eyes. Wet eyes. Whatever the fuck it is down here.
[Well, that worked. Hank's grin doesn't falter, though - it's always easier in person, more natural even when he doesn't really nail the clever quip, and besides, seeing Cayde really is a relief. He floats to a stop near Cayde, tries for a second to copy his posture, then gives up with a brief, amused noise.]
Shit, how're you doing that? I can't even stand like a normal person without floating the fuck away.
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Would you believe me if I said this isn't the first time I've been floating aimlessly in an anti-gravity void?
[As if to prove a point, he does his best to lean in and nudge Hank with his shoulder.]
Gotta say, I'm gettin' a little tired of it though. You?
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You have no idea.
[He resists the urge to figure out how to lean against someone underwater; if that little nudge let Cayde pick up anything from Hank it wouldn’t have been anything that wasn’t on Hank’s face already. But now that he’s thinking about the whole underwater thing - well, never fucking mind. He pulls his bottle out from the handy dandy pouch on his waist, raising his eyebrows.]
So what’s this shit about not being able to drink here? They got these fancy tops that make it work, like a water bottle or something, just nastier. Just don’t try to take the top off and it’s fine. Sure you don’t want a try?
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[He begins, looking over at the bottle with a single raised brow plate.]
I uh. Well. Okay, it's easier to show, gimme a sec.
[With a wink, he raises a hand, wriggling his fingers for a moment before opening his jaw as wide as he can and sticking them in. A moment later, the fingers are poking out through his cheek, and he gives a little wave.]
It all kinda just floats right out.
[His voice is just a little muffled.]
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[The laughter in his voice isn’t at Cayde - well, it is. Mostly. But not in a bad way.]
Well, don’t I feel like an asshole. You know, I was talking to Simon and just fucking forgot he doesn’t actually have a mouth?
[Hank raises a hand that hovers near Cayde’s face, half wanting to feel the weird shit for himself.]
That’s not a problem, is it? Like, do you actually need to drink stuff, or...?
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Wait, seriously? Someone doesn't have a mouth? That sounds pretty bad, not gonna lie. Like I don't have a stomach but that's not even in the same ballpark, erugh.
[Anyone walking by is probably going to think they're nuts: two grown adults sticking hands into weird places while still continuing a sort-of normal conversation.]
And nah, I don't really have to but people like me? We're creative, we find a way.
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[His hand tried to clench on its own and he doesn’t fight it, just brushes his fingers along the edges of those struts, fascinated.]
Doesn’t this feel weird? Havin fingers in your face?
[His eyes dart from Cayde’s cheeks to his eyes. He tries to figure out what Cayde might be getting from him now - he’s grateful to be touched even a little bit, like he has been ever since he uh - left Detroit for this nutso place, so that stupid, desperate pull toward contact, that’s a thing. He’s happy to see Cayde too, actually genuinely happy, and the feeling’s tentative and small in a way Hank decides not to think too hard about. If Cayde’s aware of any of that, if any of it’s some kind of issue, Hank might know in a second. He’s ready to pull back the second it looks like he’s making things weird.]
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Nah, it only gets a little weird if you stick 'em way in the back and either hit my speaker or jar a system loose 'cause then I'm gonna just kinda drool all over.
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[Hank pulls his hand away, distracting himself from how reluctant he is to do that with a thought that makes him smirk. What the hell, go for it. And if this reads like he’s insinuating something, cool, because he absolutely is.]
Kinda like a gag reflex then, huh? That’s good to know.
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I don't have any idea what you're talking about.
[Sorry not sorry Hank, now you're getting nudged again.]
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[Hank nudges Cayde back. He's got his choice of impulses to go with when it comes to this whole touching thing, cause he's still of two minds about it. On one hand, the bullshit in his head isn't the kind of thing he wants to risk spreading around. Ever. He's, let's say, hesitant. That's good enough. Hesitant. But, okay, the last time he and Cayde uh, met up, most of that evening he'd been having too good a time for his case of emotional herpes to flare up and rain on their little parade, but before that? Before that it kind of did fuck things up and Cayde was decent about it. He'd put up with it - and, you know, maybe did a little more than put up with it.
Being around Cayde is fun, it always has been, so Hank steamrollers over his own objections and goes with it.]
This just a- [He nudges Cayde again.] -nervous tic, or what? [And again.] You just gotta- [And one more time.] -for no reason at all? [Hank delivers this last elbow into Cayde's rib-area with raised eyebrows. Getting tired of it yet, Cayde? Cause Hank has not yet begun to pull your fancy metal pigtails.]
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[It's a friendly jab though, because really? Really?? There's a certain playfulness that Hank has that's both unexpected and very welcomed, and even just this dumb ribbing helps to break down some of the stress that Cayde was only tangentially aware was building in the back of his brain.
It's nice to have something to think about beyond the attacks.
But he absolutely can't let Hank think that this is okay, even if it is, and so he waits until he's nudged again before flying into action. It's hard, everything is harder underwater, but he works to get a foot planted on the sandy floor and then pushes off the ground with all his might to try and drive a shoulder into Hank's side. It's, admittedly, not the most mature response nor a very effective one, but he's got to give the guy some shit right back, right?]
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‘What are you, five?’
[No offense, man. You said it first.]
Come on, is this how a big grown-up robot solves his problems?
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If we're goin' on a scale of one to five, I'm definitely a five.
[Curse this lack of proper gravity, it makes slipping out of Hank's grasp that much harder. Cayde's usual theatrics aren't going to be enough, so instead he lets himself be grabbed, moving with Hank until he's working to switch their positions and try to drive the guy into the sand. Because winning, that's why.]
Hey, sometimes I gotta go easy on people. Who else would I talk to if I just completely and totally owned you right now? It'd get boring.
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[Hank curls up, pulling his knees as close to him as a middle aged guy who hasn't exercised in a few years can.]
-now you're gonna own me so hard I can't talk?
[And here's the kick, with both feet, aiming for ideally Cayde's stomach, more realistically probably his thighs.]
Mixed signals!
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[He's laughing through the retort, but it's interrupted by a grunt as Hank's boots make contact with his stomach. It's a genuine surprise, and the water makes it difficult to recover from as it sends him wheeling away. That's dirty, he can appreciate that. But he's not going to let Hank get away with it if he has any say in things, and so even as he's ungracefully propelled away he flails for a moment to try and grab at one of Hank's ankles to pull him with.]
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So, he's being yanked back by his own momentum, sort of, and his shirt's not flying up into his face and making him look like a moron so he has that going for him. What he doesn't have going for him is kung fu moves but he doesn't need to - it's not like he's going to arrest Cayde, not unless Cayde asks real nicely. So he just curls up again to try and get close enough to grab Cayde's legs. What's he going to do with them? God knows. He's kind of counting on Cayde retaliating before he has to figure it out.]
Too bad, kickin your ass is gonna feel great!
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Like you could even!
[Not mentioning the fact that this isn't the smoothest fight he's ever been in. Can't give Hank the satisfaction, after all. Instead, he reaches out wildly, trying to get a grip on Hank's shirt to tug him- somewhere, somewhere hopefully that will let Cayde rescue his leg back. Water makes this so much harder.]
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Gimme the right angle and I'll kick it all day!
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Hey, hey, watch the goods!
[At the moment he's yanking on Hank's shirt to try to pull him up and hopefully away from any potential headbutts in unfortunate places.]
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