[ Cool, great, good. Absolutely what he wants to deal with right now, for sure. His cabin is largely untouched except for an incredibly rumpled bed, and an ashtray right next to it filled with so many cigarette butts that it would put the beat cop protagonist of a noir detective movie to shame. On his way back to the bed, he swings by the door to leave it open just a little for Roman, since he's gonna have to let him in at some point. Might as well be now.
Back on the bed, sitting sideways on it with a space left for his brother that he'll probably leave to sit criss-cross-applesauce on the floor or something, Kendall lights another cigarette and waits for Hurricane Roman to hit. ]
[ Roman's practically allergic to knocking, he's stressed about Kendall anyway, and they're right next to each other. His hands are full to boot (one is holding a bottle of booze and the other has pushed his flop of hair away from his face) so this is a perfect excuse.
'Knock knock, hey Kendall, I'm worried about you, do you want to talk about it?'
Yeah, right. Roman kicks the door in a way that's both simultaneously lazy and impressive, and as it bounces open he waltzes right in. He's met with...
...okay. Well. He's seen Kendall in worse conditions. That doesn't make this good, but, count your blessings or whatever. ]
You look like a Tim Burton character right now. Just in case you thought you were fuckable.
[ Roman lifts the bottle of booze, raising his brow. A silent offer to pour a glass. ]
[ Kendall's tired, is the thing. He's tired and he doesn't want to do the thing with Roman where they trade insults until they get somewhere good. Lucky for the both of them, Roman has booze, which means Kendall doesn't have to think up some stupid half-baked retort just to engage in conversation, which he'd been kind of contemplating for a little while before Roman showed up. He doesn't like spending all of his time in here, cooped up like a death row inmate, but he's inched his way out of his cabin one or two times, and even that was a little much.
So he nods for the booze, because of course he does, and wipes a hand over his face. He can feel a couple days' worth of stubble bristling up on his chin, but shaving is approximately the last thing on his list right now. ]
[ Roman's response is a half chuckle as he grabs a glass from a nearby table--it's crazy how Kendall and him pretty much have the same houses as they did back home, only smaller. And in space. Everything's pretty much where it should be, though. Kendall's drug and alcohol problems be damned (or conveniently forgotten), a full glass is handed to Kendall, and as Roman leans over to give it to his brother his eyes slide over to the obscenely large pile of cigarette butts in the ashtray. ]
The British gay guy. Shit, sorry--I forgot I have to be more gentle about that sort of thing here. I mean the European fag.
[ And that gets a laugh in full as he dutifully flops down, purposely inches away from Kendall and touching him instead of in that nice spot he cleared away. Roman takes his time as he sips his drink, savouring it, and also dreading what he knows he has to ask. ]
[ It's a perfunctory warning muttered under his breath, because Kendall's used to the way Roman goes straight for someone's jugular when he needs to let off steam. That's one thing, but saying it behind their back is another, and Kendall feels responsible for making sure he doesn't get lazy with it. But whatever, he's not gonna start raking him over the coals when he's being handed a full glass of whiskey. Now is not the time to be picky, so he just swallows a mouthful and sighs. ]
Yeah. I went out to get cigarettes. Turns out a bunch of people were just, like, handing them out. I thought I was gonna have to fuckin' barter or something. You want one?
[ Kendall's bored annoyance signals that he's at least alright enough to get on Roman's case, which earns a quirk of his lips pushing upwards. Harassing siblings has its uses. He's still worried, he doesn't think he'll ever stop being worried about his older brother, but it lessons. Somewhat. Good. Kendall's gone out. That's the bare minimum, but it's something. ]
Good for you. It's hard to sell yourself when you look like that. [ Back to the japes. Japes are familiar. ] But uh...
[ Okay, so he doesn't want one. Kendall leans over to to tap some ash from his cigarette, eyeing him with the weary gaze of someone who is not in the mood to analyse his own feelings. He's actually trying very hard not to think about them. ]
Do I not look okay?
[ A beat. ]
Don't answer that. I'm fine, okay? I'm fucking – fine. It's whatever. I'm dead and I'm a prisoner on a spaceship with my brother who's also dead and the rest of our family is fuckin' nowhere to be seen. Could be worse, I guess, Dad could be here.
[ Roman's already starting the mental clock. Two sentences in on Kendall's schpiel and he's already bracing himself, readying for the inevitable descent into Kendall having a big ol' Breakdown.
It's not the first time the other's been like this, and Roman doesn't think it'll be the last, either. He shifts a little--squirms a little--and exhales through his nose, making the conscious decision to shelve the sardonic attitude. Just for a little. He tries to hide the flinch at the mention of their dad, too, though it's less obvious.
Is it weird he wants his dad here? Even after he's fucked them over? Logan Roy is a familiar, steadfast part of his life, despite it all. One he admires. ]
I mean...
[ Puke. Here it comes. The need to show vulnerability. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
How the fuck is a pirate uptight?
no subject
Not sure if you know this but this is actually the first pirate I've ever met, so I'm kind of at a loss.
Are you actually OK though, or is this just like one of those things where you say you're fine but you actually spat out a tooth?
no subject
[ And, a few moments later: ]
I'm more worried about you.
no subject
1/?
2/?
3/?
4/?
5/6
i'm farting on my phone I hope you can smell it through the reciever
6/6
Fuck you
bye
see you in three seconds
Fucking asshole
no subject
Back on the bed, sitting sideways on it with a space left for his brother that he'll probably leave to sit criss-cross-applesauce on the floor or something, Kendall lights another cigarette and waits for Hurricane Roman to hit. ]
no subject
'Knock knock, hey Kendall, I'm worried about you, do you want to talk about it?'
Yeah, right. Roman kicks the door in a way that's both simultaneously lazy and impressive, and as it bounces open he waltzes right in. He's met with...
...okay. Well. He's seen Kendall in worse conditions. That doesn't make this good, but, count your blessings or whatever. ]
You look like a Tim Burton character right now. Just in case you thought you were fuckable.
[ Roman lifts the bottle of booze, raising his brow. A silent offer to pour a glass. ]
no subject
[ Kendall's tired, is the thing. He's tired and he doesn't want to do the thing with Roman where they trade insults until they get somewhere good. Lucky for the both of them, Roman has booze, which means Kendall doesn't have to think up some stupid half-baked retort just to engage in conversation, which he'd been kind of contemplating for a little while before Roman showed up. He doesn't like spending all of his time in here, cooped up like a death row inmate, but he's inched his way out of his cabin one or two times, and even that was a little much.
So he nods for the booze, because of course he does, and wipes a hand over his face. He can feel a couple days' worth of stubble bristling up on his chin, but shaving is approximately the last thing on his list right now. ]
Where'd you even get that?
cw homophobia
The British gay guy. Shit, sorry--I forgot I have to be more gentle about that sort of thing here. I mean the European fag.
[ And that gets a laugh in full as he dutifully flops down, purposely inches away from Kendall and touching him instead of in that nice spot he cleared away. Roman takes his time as he sips his drink, savouring it, and also dreading what he knows he has to ask. ]
So, uh... You actually left your room at all yet?
no subject
[ It's a perfunctory warning muttered under his breath, because Kendall's used to the way Roman goes straight for someone's jugular when he needs to let off steam. That's one thing, but saying it behind their back is another, and Kendall feels responsible for making sure he doesn't get lazy with it. But whatever, he's not gonna start raking him over the coals when he's being handed a full glass of whiskey. Now is not the time to be picky, so he just swallows a mouthful and sighs. ]
Yeah. I went out to get cigarettes. Turns out a bunch of people were just, like, handing them out. I thought I was gonna have to fuckin' barter or something. You want one?
no subject
Good for you. It's hard to sell yourself when you look like that. [ Back to the japes. Japes are familiar. ] But uh...
You're like, okay, right?
no subject
Do I not look okay?
[ A beat. ]
Don't answer that. I'm fine, okay? I'm fucking – fine. It's whatever. I'm dead and I'm a prisoner on a spaceship with my brother who's also dead and the rest of our family is fuckin' nowhere to be seen. Could be worse, I guess, Dad could be here.
no subject
It's not the first time the other's been like this, and Roman doesn't think it'll be the last, either. He shifts a little--squirms a little--and exhales through his nose, making the conscious decision to shelve the sardonic attitude. Just for a little. He tries to hide the flinch at the mention of their dad, too, though it's less obvious.
Is it weird he wants his dad here? Even after he's fucked them over? Logan Roy is a familiar, steadfast part of his life, despite it all. One he admires. ]
I mean...
[ Puke. Here it comes. The need to show vulnerability. ]
...We have each other, right? That's something.