OPEN RP

[suicidemission]


Open RP Post
AU | Pre | Canon
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It'll probably end in tears.

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[suicidemission]

"Yeah it does, mate." Bullshit indeed. Chuck snorts, and runs a hand through his hair and tries (without trying to make it look like he's trying) to make himself look presentable.

Doesn't do much. He's tired and he looks tired and his face is still a little pink from his cry earlier. Damn pale aussie skin.

"Ngh. Two hours."

Didn't feel like it. Felt more like five minutes.

"Yeah that doesn't sound so routine."

[gipsyheartbreak]

Yancy watches on and off—trying to be subtle—Chuck's grooming. It's funny in an endearing kind of way that he's trying to make himself look a little more neat. As if he still couldn't see the puffy color on the younger's face.

All the same he doesn't say anything, just tries to keep his grin down to something polite and respectful, laughing again when the other whines about his sleep.

"I'm just gonna say it one last time but—" He sucks in a breath and lets it out slow: "Things'll get better."

It was a lesson that took him way too fucking long to learn, and bless the patience from everyone around him who got him back up onto his hopeful, hypothetical feet.

"Well," Yancy huffs, smile still on his face as he looks down to an arm. "Getting refitted is always a bitch." He looks up to Chuck with a shrugging expression. "What can you do, right?" A beat, and then; "You're welcome, by the way. The new tech on your generation's prosthetics aren't going to be buggy and problematic."

[suicidemission]

It's a vain effort. He knows he looks like shit.

"Yeah...you do keep saying that."

And it's still not helping, but there's a twitch of a smile at the corners of his lips. Dumb Beckets and their optimism. Growling doesn't seem to be doing much good at keeping Yancy away, either.

Not...that he wants him to go. He hasn't had many visitors.

"Goody. I can hardly wait."