IC Inbox | rubycity_rp | II

[starmark]

. . . Yare yare. What is it? Hurry up and say something already.



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[OOC: Contact through any format is fine, including action as you see fit!]

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[silvercrusader]

[He absolutely files that away for later testing, so clearly it's good advice.]

If I can actually convince Bruno to come with me down there. That's the tricky part.

[starmark]

Pick him up and carry him down there.

[...]

Though I guess that's a lot easier when you can stop time and cheat at getting it done, huh.

[Now consider: a touchy subject and a bad joke though it may be. And yet.

Jotaro Kujo is trying to make a joke. About stopping time. An application of humor to the most horrifying force of terror in their shared existence.

He's doing his best.]

[silvercrusader]

[He doesn't get it at first, actually. He's still thinking of Kakyoin, and Jotaro grabbing Kakyoin in stopped time, which is a stupid idea to do to Kakyoin, but maybe they've--

Oh.

It doesn't exactly land, not like some of the jokes they share. Polnareff still feels that pull of fear and shame. But he offers a slight smile, a little strained but an attempt.]

Half the fun is in his reactions, though.

[starmark]

[He ducks his head, a nonverbal agreement to leave it alone from there, and leans a little more heavily against Polnareff feeling pleasantly raw around the edges — imperfect and vulnerable, and yet awkwardly content with the feeling despite its discomforts.]

Lure him down with a really long noodle of pasta?

[silvercrusader]

Is that what you do with Kakyoin and cherries?

[He leans back against him as his eyes close. He likes pressing against Jotaro. There's something comforting about the contact, whether it's like this or pressed up together in a bed.]

Anyway, he likes mushrooms too. I'll use those. Way easier than making pasta noodles every time I wanna jump him.

[starmark]

Making pasta noodles? You mean like boiling them out of a box?

[look at this uncultured heathen, what is he even doing with his life]

[silvercrusader]

No, no-- he makes them from scratch. Like, with flour and water and all that? He made me and this girl Lucy supper the other week, and he started doing it at three o'clock. And when I said, oh, I bought some pasta from the store, let's just use that and go back to making out, he gave me a Look.

[starmark]

...

You can make noodles from scratch?

I thought they just...came in packages.

[SOMEHOW]

[silvercrusader]

[...]

Did you think they were born there?

[starmark]

I DON'T SPEND A LOT OF TIME THINKING ABOUT NOODLES.

[Until now. Guess what's going to wake him up at 3 AM. GUESS.]

[silvercrusader]

Well, come downstairs some day when Bruno's making supper, you can watch the whole thing.

[To sum: we have one man here who's currently consumed with the thoughts of noodles and how they're made; another who's starting to pout a bit because he's remembering the time his boyfriend abandoned making out with him in favor of making supper.]

[starmark]

[who makes supper instead of out with polnareff

i mean both are spicy but there's a lot more instant gratification to the latter]

At three in the afternoon? I'll still be at the office, probably. Make him cook on my day off.

[silvercrusader]

Yeah, that'll go real well. Cucciolo, cook when Jotaro wants you to, that's an order.

[starmark]

So tell him to cook when you want to. And then just make when you want to at the right time for me, too.

[He says, with a nudge.]

...Is that what you call him?

[silvercrusader]

Yeah, we're disgusting like that. Mon chéri, caro mio, cucciolo mio, cicci, mon trésor, we have fun with it in French and Italian.

[starmark]

Well, I'll definitely never feel bad about being too sentimental ever again. I've got you two as a baseline.

Il mio piccolo squatina. Try that one sometime.

[silvercrusader]

My . . .

[God, why is everything in Italian not comparable to French.]

I'm not using it until you tell me what it means. Kakyoin burned me once on that with the whole bed thing, I'm not falling for it again. I mean, I trust you, but I kind of don't, mon mari.

[starmark]

It means "angelfish". Though it's really more like "angel-shark". Not the little brightly colored tropical fish, they're big and fanned-out like manta rays.

They're endangered, but really cool.

[silvercrusader]

[That . . . does sound kind of cool, actually. Huh.]

Are they actually sharkish? I dunno if I'll call him that, though, that's a little too much ocean for me.

[starmark]

They're predators. Ambush predators, actually, they hang out camouflaged places and wait for prey to swim past them, and then they jump it.

But they look like rays, you know —

[He sets his mug aside, then fans out his hands with the heels of them pressed together, imitating wings.]

Big fins, swooping movement through the water.

[silvercrusader]

Woah.

[He takes a moment to reflect on that, and then:]

God, the ocean is fucked up. Every time you tell me a new fact about it just adds to it. Never mind starfish-- I saw some on the beach the other day, I thought of you.

[starmark]

I haven't even told you about the really weird shit yet. I tell you about the tame shit.

You saw starfish, huh? Did you toss them back in the water?

[silvercrusader]

Yeah! Wait, what's weird shit, I want to hear about weird shit.

[starmark]

Sea cucumbers defend themselves by shitting their internal organs in a cloud around a predator to confuse it while they escape the threat.

[He says, sipping from his mug with a perfectly straight face.]

[silvercrusader]

They-- no they don't! No--

[He gasps at him. The reaction is a little over-exaggerated, to be sure, but not by a lot.]

How the fuck do they survive that!