[ welp, after inadvertently exposing Hank to his horrible experience-based nightmare dimension Simon is extra interested in tracking him down and making sure he’s... okay? Probably not, but. Around. ]
Hey, Hank. You around? Just wanted to check in and see how you’re holding up... [ Which he thinks better of immediately: ] Probably shitty, like the rest of us.
[Somehow his watch's set to reply on video by default so that's what happens first, while he's just hit reply and is still too half-asleep to think about it. The room's dim, maybe half the sunlight that's trying to get in making it through the shutters. The camera's too close at a skewed angle, catching mostly mattress and bedhair.]
Um. What th' fuck? Right, uh-
[A fist moves into view as Hank shoves it into an eye, turning his wrist so he can squint into the watch.]
Simon. Right, fuck, uh. Weird to just hear you like this, like before I knew- before we knew each other.
[Shit, that was smooth. Hank turns his face to give a good try at burying it into the mattress with a groan.]
Fuck. Hey, is what I meant. Hey man.
[He turns his face back just enough that he can breathe a little and aim an eye at the screen, realizing after a couple seconds that there's nothing there to see. Cause Simon's on audio. Right. Right.]
[ Man, sometimes Hank is just so bad at making sentences at people. Then again, you don’t really end up tripping over Simons as a civil servant, or as a person... living on Earth.
After a few seconds he turns video on. He usually keeps that off, and it’s become a force of habit, so it takes a conscious reminder that Hank already knows what he looks like and there’s no point in sticking to audio, really. Granted, here’s no point in switching to video either, because it’s not like they’re losing some choice Simon facial expressions here, but it still feels kind of weird to withhold it when he approached Hank go see if he’s okay. ]
Don’t worry, I can still smell this video somehow. I think you cured me. Do you want... Uh, company?
[ The hesitation is mainly because the answer is probably no or else Hank would be out where the company is, presumably. But. Yeah. How do you be a Hank friend. ]
[He blinks at Simon's face for a long moment, part of him thinking vaguely of a human face he'd seen not too long ago in a place he's not thinking about, putting it on top of the blank helmet and its LEDs there. The rest of him's just taking in what's in front of him until he rolls on his back, rubbing his face again and mumbling.]
Fuck, 'm out of it. Uh...
[He looks at his watch, then turns his wrist so the screen's pointing at the ceiling. Better than staring at his dirty, unmade bed, probably.]
I don't know, how low are your standards this morning? Uh, afternoon? Today, whatever. Depends on what kind of company you're thinkin about.
[ as dry as it is genial, ] They’re usually pretty low.
[ He’s not a whole lot more clear on whether it’s morning or afternoon than Hank is, either. So hey. He doesn’t even mind the shitty, unmade bed, really. It’s familiar, in the way Hank is in general that makes reaching out to him after that bullshit symbiotic, maybe, grounded in worry too, but not exactly an act of charity.
There’s nothing else to fucking do around here except think about planets exploding and the Circle members who probably exploded too, and the horrible crawling wrongness of his freaky robot body and how he’d be back to freaking Hank out if the guy wasn’t probably used to it at this point.
Uh- [Shit, directions. How do you even do directions in a place that's full of identically weird, picturesque old ruins where pretty much every room, from the outside, looks exactly the same?] -fuck, um, I'll just meet you somewhere. Is the uh, the temple still all weird, with all the new guys running around or whatever the fuck, or can we just meet wherever's close to you and not worry about it?
[ Hank is right, this is a useless place to rely on directions, but Simon offers him a toothlessly exasperated voice anyway, like when you ask somebody to pick where you’re going to lunch and they’re just making it so complicated. ]
I don’t know. I can’t guarantee we won’t run into anybody else, if that’s what you’re asking. We could try the lake, or you could... just... put some beer cans outside your door or something and I’ll find it.
[ ...he can’t fault Hank for not wanting to run into anybody, though, and if he feels the way he looks, that he would even offer to drag himself out of his house at this moment just to hang out with Simon somewhere... is. Nice? It’s kinda nice. ]
[Hank huffs, amused, running one hand clumsily over his face to try and wake up.]
Like the grown-up version of tyin balloons on your mailbox. Right, uh... I don't have beer so I guess I'll have to dump myself in front of the door instead. If that works I'll see you in, uh... whenever.
[He blinks in the general direction of his watch screen, waiting for Simon's okay, and if he gets it he'll be sitting there in the hall whenever Simon wanders along, arm across his bent knees, head back against the wall. He put pants on. That probably counts as dressing up.]
[ He doesn’t have beer? Huh. That’s probably. Good? ]
That works.
[ So he hangs up. And wander along he does. It probably only highlights that the two bodies Hank has seen him inhabit have next to nothing in common in terms of physique. It’s not something Simon generally notices, that he’s smaller in spooky robot form, but the suit makes it pretty apparent.
Unfortunately he doesn’t think to give Hank extra credit for wearing pants right now, either. But it’s cool. Simon’s standards for “fit to leave the house” are also pretty much “pants”. ]
[Hank lifts his head, taking Simon in while he blinks himself out of his half-doze. It's hard not to compare what he's seeing to Simon's 'human' body. He feels weird about it, like it's probably rude or some shit, but it just happens. And of course he notices the height thing.
It's stupid, trying to make sense of it. It's stupid. Simon's - his history, where he came from, it's a big terrible horror show and nothing about that should be nagging at him. He runs a hand down his face, half as an excuse to wrangle his urge to make sense of shit back into one of his many little mental boxes while his eyes too closed to stare, and grunts a hello.]
Good to see you. 's weird, living here should be like being back in a dorm, but it's not. Walls are soundproof I guess, you never really hear anyone. Oh, hey.
[This last is at Sumo, who comes out of Hank's room sniffing, tail wagging, and goes right past Hank to sniff at Simon's leg. Hank keeps talking to him anyway, voice dry.]
Yeah... guess that is weird. I don’t spend a lot of time in mine. Usually. [ Oh hey it’s everybody’s favorite giant. Simon promptly drops to one knee to give Sumo head rubs, if he’ll allow it. If his eyes could light up they would.
Now Hank might as well not exist. Not really, but this is pretty much the best time to have a big ol’ dog around. ]
[Sumo will more than allow it. He leans into it, starting to lean all one hundred seventy pounds of himself against Simon. Hank sets his elbow on a knee and his head against his hand and watches for a moment, then ducks his head and scratches his hand through his hair, looking away.]
Should make you my official dog petter.
[Hank's glad that came out as bland as he wanted it to. That way it can be a joke, and not something he genuinely probably needs. It's not like Sumo's getting the attention from him.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
voice; post-akvos; gently double-threads
Hey, Hank. You around? Just wanted to check in and see how you’re holding up... [ Which he thinks better of immediately: ] Probably shitty, like the rest of us.
no subject
Um. What th' fuck? Right, uh-
[A fist moves into view as Hank shoves it into an eye, turning his wrist so he can squint into the watch.]
Simon. Right, fuck, uh. Weird to just hear you like this, like before I knew- before we knew each other.
[Shit, that was smooth. Hank turns his face to give a good try at burying it into the mattress with a groan.]
Fuck. Hey, is what I meant. Hey man.
[He turns his face back just enough that he can breathe a little and aim an eye at the screen, realizing after a couple seconds that there's nothing there to see. Cause Simon's on audio. Right. Right.]
no subject
[ Man, sometimes Hank is just so bad at making sentences at people. Then again, you don’t really end up tripping over Simons as a civil servant, or as a person... living on Earth.
After a few seconds he turns video on. He usually keeps that off, and it’s become a force of habit, so it takes a conscious reminder that Hank already knows what he looks like and there’s no point in sticking to audio, really. Granted, here’s no point in switching to video either, because it’s not like they’re losing some choice Simon facial expressions here, but it still feels kind of weird to withhold it when he approached Hank go see if he’s okay. ]
Don’t worry, I can still smell this video somehow. I think you cured me. Do you want... Uh, company?
[ The hesitation is mainly because the answer is probably no or else Hank would be out where the company is, presumably. But. Yeah. How do you be a Hank friend. ]
no subject
[He blinks at Simon's face for a long moment, part of him thinking vaguely of a human face he'd seen not too long ago in a place he's not thinking about, putting it on top of the blank helmet and its LEDs there. The rest of him's just taking in what's in front of him until he rolls on his back, rubbing his face again and mumbling.]
Fuck, 'm out of it. Uh...
[He looks at his watch, then turns his wrist so the screen's pointing at the ceiling. Better than staring at his dirty, unmade bed, probably.]
I don't know, how low are your standards this morning? Uh, afternoon? Today, whatever. Depends on what kind of company you're thinkin about.
no subject
[ He’s not a whole lot more clear on whether it’s morning or afternoon than Hank is, either. So hey. He doesn’t even mind the shitty, unmade bed, really. It’s familiar, in the way Hank is in general that makes reaching out to him after that bullshit symbiotic, maybe, grounded in worry too, but not exactly an act of charity.
There’s nothing else to fucking do around here except think about planets exploding and the Circle members who probably exploded too, and the horrible crawling wrongness of his freaky robot body and how he’d be back to freaking Hank out if the guy wasn’t probably used to it at this point.
So basically it’s a good time to harass Hank. ]
Where’s your room?
no subject
no subject
I don’t know. I can’t guarantee we won’t run into anybody else, if that’s what you’re asking. We could try the lake, or you could... just... put some beer cans outside your door or something and I’ll find it.
[ ...he can’t fault Hank for not wanting to run into anybody, though, and if he feels the way he looks, that he would even offer to drag himself out of his house at this moment just to hang out with Simon somewhere... is. Nice? It’s kinda nice. ]
video --> action
Like the grown-up version of tyin balloons on your mailbox. Right, uh... I don't have beer so I guess I'll have to dump myself in front of the door instead. If that works I'll see you in, uh... whenever.
[He blinks in the general direction of his watch screen, waiting for Simon's okay, and if he gets it he'll be sitting there in the hall whenever Simon wanders along, arm across his bent knees, head back against the wall. He put pants on. That probably counts as dressing up.]
no subject
That works.
[ So he hangs up. And wander along he does. It probably only highlights that the two bodies Hank has seen him inhabit have next to nothing in common in terms of physique. It’s not something Simon generally notices, that he’s smaller in spooky robot form, but the suit makes it pretty apparent.
Unfortunately he doesn’t think to give Hank extra credit for wearing pants right now, either. But it’s cool. Simon’s standards for “fit to leave the house” are also pretty much “pants”. ]
Hey.
no subject
It's stupid, trying to make sense of it. It's stupid. Simon's - his history, where he came from, it's a big terrible horror show and nothing about that should be nagging at him. He runs a hand down his face, half as an excuse to wrangle his urge to make sense of shit back into one of his many little mental boxes while his eyes too closed to stare, and grunts a hello.]
Good to see you. 's weird, living here should be like being back in a dorm, but it's not. Walls are soundproof I guess, you never really hear anyone. Oh, hey.
[This last is at Sumo, who comes out of Hank's room sniffing, tail wagging, and goes right past Hank to sniff at Simon's leg. Hank keeps talking to him anyway, voice dry.]
Well, hey to you too.
no subject
Now Hank might as well not exist. Not really, but this is pretty much the best time to have a big ol’ dog around. ]
Hey, Sumo.
no subject
Should make you my official dog petter.
[Hank's glad that came out as bland as he wanted it to. That way it can be a joke, and not something he genuinely probably needs. It's not like Sumo's getting the attention from him.]