057 ± [visual / location: around town] i like the autumn but this place is getting old

[aintnoconvict]

At roughly quarter to nine in the morning, Taxon is greeted with a video broadcast of a holo broadcast.

"Hello?"

One can tell it's not a proper arrival because instead of the usual stark arrival room, there's a tiny Glitch hovering over a nightstand. Beyond, there is a patchwork quilt covering a shifting, grumbling lump.

"DG...Cain?" From under the covers, Glitch's head emerges and he peers blearily at his tiny duplicate. "Raw?"

"Cute," he mumbles, the props his chin up to watch the show.

"Cain's going to be mad," the hologram remarks fussily. Glitch snorts. "But...no, it's not my fault this time. I was following him! I was following him! I was follow-"

"All right, enough of that." Glitch pokes his tablet so the holo replay of his arrival vanishes, then scowls when he notices that it's still broadcasting. "Guess that's the aliens' way of wishing me a happy anniversary. Morning, all."

Then he turns the tablet off and flops back with a sigh.

Three annuals. Thirty-six months. One hundred fifty-six weeks. Something like a thousand ninety-five days and he's still not sure how he survived the first dozen of them. Illyria'd basically pointed him at the door and he'd been on his own until DG's arrival. Adaptation. Coping. Moving on. Waiting and surviving, that was 90% of this place.

Today, though, he'll keep busy and distribute a few gifts. The first pumpkin from the garden for Cain with a short length of distinctive gold braiding tied around the stem. One of DG's sketchbooks for Azkadellia, a more intimate glimpse of the younger princess' life here. He's ready to let go, and he hopes it will give Az some comfort. The first volume of his organized notes on Taxon for Mayland, a drink or two with Paul after lunch, dropping a scarf off for Madelyne (the days are getting chillier and he frets), and then...then he'll take Bagoas out for dinner. Because why not.

He sends a voice message to his friend to make arrangements (Italian, Glitch decides, will be nice), gets ready for the day, loads a basket with goodies, and sets off on his bicycle to make the rounds.


ooc: THREE YEARS what even. He'll be stopping by to see everyone mentioned above (and all of that's hadnwavey if you like), but anyone not mentioned is totally welcome to bump into him too. OPEN POST IS OPEN.

Comments

[location]

[hasaheart]

Annual schmannual, Glitch's AE gift was at least ten times more thoughtful on all the levels.

"Coming full circle in more ways than one, huh?" He glances at his friend over his shoulder, weighing the pumpkin in both hands.

"Thanks, Glitch. That's... I don't know what else to say. Got time for some coffee, or you heading off for more gift giving?"

And goodness, his own annual's coming to an end soon too. He makes a slight face. "I just realized I have ten days to figure out what to do for my own 'versary."

and then Keri got teary doing research for a throw-away line. THE FEELS I CAN'T.

[aintnoconvict]

Uh huh. Tell him that and get and earful of all the times he'd been lonely or scared or heartbroken or doubtful, and how handling a certain hat band made it better.

"Absolutely," he replies with a nod and follows along. "And I absoltuely have time for your coffee." Glitch may be a fan. "My schedule's flexible until...well, 'til after lunch. I'm meeting your fella for drinks."

He's the embodiment of nonchalance, though mention of Cain's kidnapping anniversary gets a head tilt.

"Oh, um...the second one is usually all alcohol and/or violence, I think, but you-" Here begins the struggle to not laugh. "You might be too well-adjusted for that."

~GLOMP~

[hasaheart]

Exactly two things make Cain grin and then grin wider: the fella comment, and the notion of adjustment.

"Me, too well-adjusted. That's a thought."

Glitch should consider himself lucky Cain's hands are busy, or he'd find himself in a headlock or something along those not!noogie lines.

"There's a pot on in the kitchen, make yourself at home while I figure out where to put this big guy."

It's a long standing O.Z tradition that pumpkins are male gender, don'tcha know.

[aintnoconvict]

And they're called Jack right? Right :D?

Fortunately Glitch still has a keen sense of self-preservation and ducks into the kitchen to prepare his coffee.

"Stranger things have happened," he called and poured a cup, then located the milk and sugar. "And he'd probably make a good centerpiece. Or a door stop. Or...I dunno, it's your pumpkin."

[hasaheart]

You know it!

"A doorstop?" Wyatt shoots back in borderline indignation (though most of it is teasing and the rest of it is for show). "This fine specimen of pumpkinhood? I don't think so."

He nonetheless places Jack in the lounge that he and Glitch got up to snuff back when Glitch needed to be distracted from everything and Wyatt could really use a hand.

"So..." he says, less shocked, much more mellow as he joins his friend for coffee in the kitchen. "Three annuals, huh? That's worth a toast."

[aintnoconvict]

"Is it now?" Glitch asks and leans back against the counter. He's comfortable here, in this home away from home (away from home), totally at ease and smiling. "To my continued good health and humour?"

[hasaheart]

He nods, brushing a hair over his wavy-haired head and reaches to pour himself a cup, which of course is the perfect vehicle and embodiment of such a toast. The colliding ceramic gives a soft clunk of a sound, and Wyatt leans briefly into his friend for a nudge-bump.

"Health. Humour. Happiness. Happiness most of all."

[aintnoconvict]

"And ditto for you," Glitch says with a little laugh, sipping his coffee with a happy little hum. He could try and unlock Cain's coffee making secrets, but that's one of things that makes his visits special and if he could do it at home...no. Here, now, the context is what matters.

"So what's the traditional third anniversary gift? Leather, I think?"

[hasaheart]

Wyatt hums, sips, and goes on to shake his head eloquently. "I haven't the faintest. I thought it was wood, or water. Tenth's pearl, and fifth's...no, fifth's wood."

He huffs through a small, wry smile. To think he can remember things like that, but not his late wife's middle name. But on the other hand, every glimpse of a memory, fuzzy or otherwise, is good.

"I think you might be right, but don't take my word on it. Why?"

[aintnoconvict]

And now Glitch needs to think of a reason that's not I-like-listening-to-you-spout-pointless-trivia.

"I was thinking of treating myself to a new pair of boots," he muses. "And I was wondering if it'd be appropriate. Guess I'm picking up some sentimental tendencies from somewhere."

Which means Cain's getting a cotton something. Yup.

[hasaheart]

Skeptical side-eye is skeptical but (probably) not for the reason Glitch might think. Wyatt sips his coffee, giving his friend a once-over as if those tendencies might be literally infectious.

"You're not saying you got them from me."

What? Who? Him, a softie? Never.

Then again, who are we trying to kid?

[aintnoconvict]

"I'd never say that," Glitch says with conviction. Say it, no, but mean it? Only all the time.

He takes a sip of his coffee and hums appreciatively, then glances back at Cain. "I just want to say thanks, again, for...just being you, the last few months. And doing all those you-things."

The support, the laughs (and occasional broad shoulder) when he needed them, all the Cain-y stuff.

[hasaheart]

Wyatt hides a smile behind another sip of coffee, then slowly looks Glitch's way when he takes the sincerity route.

Well.

Well, what do you say to that? How do you even begin?

He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and gives his best friend a firm nod. "Any time. You just say the word."