[The poke to his forehead makes his shoulders jump a little in a way that tickling someone might. It's the small element of surprise but it doesn't feel like a violation of trust. His personal shields tend to be down around Julie so if she wants to poke and nudge him she is, for the most part, free to do so.
But still it is a surprise each time.
Chuckling with a lopsided grin, he steps back and opens the door wider for her. Whistler is clad only in his cargo pants, torso and feet bare, and his long hair for once not covered by his tattered hat so it fluffs in waves around his head, looking almost like wings over his ears. He's even grown scruff along the jaw that is edging on being an actual beard.
The floor where he had been working is covered in bits and pieces of sheet metal, gears, the odd piece of wiring.]
Mind your step. Don't want something pointy going where it shouldn't.
[She rolls her eyes as she steps inside, though she does take care to mind where she's putting her feet (only in sandals - no socks, because fuck socks).]
[Whistler's entire manner of being shifts dramatically at that one comment, suddenly turning bashful and sitting up with an awkward expression.
With a simple compliment she managed to poke a hole in his fake bravado and get to the awkward nerd behind it, unused to being told he's attractive.
He timidly reaches up a hand to comb his hair back with his fingers, and he may or may not be blushing a little. Hard to tell because he's naturally tan.]
[Whistler exhales slowly, shifting to pull up his knees to his chest and resting his forearms atop them.
His head lulls to the side, lips pressed together in a thin line as he hesitates before finally he relents]
There's someone. Maybe. But...if that is what it is...it...would mean changing a lot of things. And if that person didn't feel the same then it could mean ruining...everything...
[She looks up at the ceiling, pursing her lips. The way his head moves reminds her so suddenly of how he was as a child that she can't help but stare for a moment, then smile.]
I guess... in a situation like that, you have to figure out if it's worth the risk.
Maybe I just don't need to have that you know? I never really expected to anyway.
[A life in a van with just a group of tech nerds did not lend itself to a life of intimacy. Carl could attest to that, despite his best efforts]
It's not that I haven't done that sort of thing [He interjects, realizing he's making it sound like he's a 40 yr old celibate] But I just sort of assumed in my case they were always going to be one offs. Not um...I'm not what someone would peg as 'keeping material'.
[A blind phone hacker does not an ideal partner make, no matter how cute he might be]
And this person, you know, they've stuck by me longer than anyone else ever has. So maybe I'm just being selfish to think about more than that.
[For a few moments, she just looks at him. She can't help the soft hum of amusement as he feels he has to make sure she knows he's 'done that sort of thing' (she wasn't going to ask), and she curls a hand over his shoulder, squeezing gently.]
It's not selfish to want to mean more to somebody. And, I dunno... for what it's worth, I think you'd be a keeper.
[His muscles tense instinctively at the touch but slowly relax into it, though he keeps his face looking forward across the room into some midspace he can't see.]
Even though I send you annoying messages early in the morning?
[Whistler then quietly shifts his head so that his ear brushes against the tops of her knuckles, appreciating the closeness]
Wondering about this might be pointless anyway. I don't even know if I'm actually still alive back home.
[He's never known her to be subtle about her opinions. Part of what he likes about her.
Then he shakes his head]
I don't know. I think its sort of a 50/50 thing. The last thing I remember was smashing a van into...something. I think it was a building. My head flew forward and his something hard, my body smashed against the steering wheel...and then I was here.
[He says it all with an even tone, like he's trying to work through a math problem rather than figuring out if he's dead or not]
But if I didn't succeed then he...also...might not....he might be in a lot of trouble if I wasn't successful. They all might be.
[She's not sure how he's going to react, but she does it anyway - her hand sneaks around his back, arm draped around his shoulders, and she brings her feet up onto the couch to pull up her knees into a similar position to his.]
Well, that sucks. [She hums.] 'He' being the person you like, right?
[Julie shrugs, though in this position it's more of a shuffle.]
You might not be dead. I'd be trying to stay on that side of the fence, if I were you.
[He stays extremely still as she maneuvers, not sure at first exactly what she's doing, but when she's settled into place he lets himself lean into her oh so slightly. This kind of contact is very new to him. But he can't say that he doesn't like it so far.]
Yeah. He. We've been partners in crime since I was a little older than you.
[He butts his head gently against her]
Even if you don't believe my criminal street cred.
[Whistler and Mother had been paired up long before Bishop ever came knocking. In fact Whistler couldn't do much of what he does without Mother. Whistler was the ears and the cunning, Mother was the eyes and the strength.]
I hope I'm not. I'd really rather not die with the headline 'Blind man crashes into building'
[And more than that, he doesn't want to think that he failed his friends]
I don't mind going out on a joke [In fact he'd prefer to go out that way] But...just not one that's an easy stereotype about the thing everyone focuses on, you know?
[Whistler make jokes about his own blindness. He doesn't mind people making jokes about it. What he minds is when people see him as only that. The blindness and nothing else. Then it's not funny, it's just ignorant. And so if the headline on the day of his death was 'blind man crashes into building' he knows what everyone would think. How stupid. How incapable and idiotic for someone like him to think he could do things. And for that reason somehow the death would seem warranted. Because a blind man had tried something he shouldn't.]
What he's like? Well, uh, you won't be surprised to find out he's got a code name too. Mother. But his name is Darren. Coupe years younger, he likes conspiracy theories...but I think a lot of that is just to bother Crease.
[Come to think of it, she's never asked him why his name is Whistler... but then, she only ever calls him Whistler when other people are around to hear it, and they don't tend to hang out where other people are.
Julie leans her head against Whistler's shoulder, closing her eyes because she knows he can't see to make her self-conscious about the fact she looks like she's ready to fall asleep again.]
[Whistler hums as he lets himself get a bit nostalgic]
Because he's a worrier. Mother Hen. Though Crease likes to say its because he's a Motherfucker.
[He half chuckles remembering the way they get at each other. Every time Mother comes up with a new conspiracy theory about the CIA or the moon landing...]
I guess my life has been kinda strange. It's been that way for so long now I kinda forget it's not normal.
[When he feels her head rest against his shoulder his expression softens]
You tired? ...I...I shouldn't have woken you up. I'm sorry.
[He's quiet a moment, just letting a comfortable silence dominate as his fingers fiddle a little with his toes]
You can sleep here if you'd like. I'll try to be quiet while I'm working.
[After all, he was the reason she dragged herself all the way over here. He didn't exactly feel good about having her trek all the way back when sleeping was something she could just as easily do here as there.]
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redwinekindofgirl) wrote2017-10-17 07:58 pm
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A little unfair, when he can't see it coming.]
Lemme in, or everyone two floors up and down is gonna know why I'm over here.
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But still it is a surprise each time.
Chuckling with a lopsided grin, he steps back and opens the door wider for her. Whistler is clad only in his cargo pants, torso and feet bare, and his long hair for once not covered by his tattered hat so it fluffs in waves around his head, looking almost like wings over his ears. He's even grown scruff along the jaw that is edging on being an actual beard.
The floor where he had been working is covered in bits and pieces of sheet metal, gears, the odd piece of wiring.]
Mind your step. Don't want something pointy going where it shouldn't.
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[She rolls her eyes as she steps inside, though she does take care to mind where she's putting her feet (only in sandals - no socks, because fuck socks).]
What are you doing in here?
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[He shrugs off-handedly, closing the door and moving to flop onto the couch gracelessly.]
You should be asleep. The young need their beauty sleep.
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[She doesn't need to keep a straight face at that line, but she at least keeps a straight voice, watching him for his reaction.]
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Yes. I got too much beauty sleep when I was your age and that is why I am the Adonis I am today.
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Already told you you're not bad to look at. This is a bit more of you than I was expecting to see, though. Kinda hot.
[She flops down on the couch beside him and nudges his arm with her elbow.]
So, talk.
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With a simple compliment she managed to poke a hole in his fake bravado and get to the awkward nerd behind it, unused to being told he's attractive.
He timidly reaches up a hand to comb his hair back with his fingers, and he may or may not be blushing a little. Hard to tell because he's naturally tan.]
What is it you wanna know exactly?
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[Elbow-poke. Yes, she sees the change in demeanour and the blush, and she knows just how to get at him.]
I know you're not going senile, you didn't forget what you woke me up for.
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His head lulls to the side, lips pressed together in a thin line as he hesitates before finally he relents]
There's someone. Maybe. But...if that is what it is...it...would mean changing a lot of things. And if that person didn't feel the same then it could mean ruining...everything...
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[She looks up at the ceiling, pursing her lips. The way his head moves reminds her so suddenly of how he was as a child that she can't help but stare for a moment, then smile.]
I guess... in a situation like that, you have to figure out if it's worth the risk.
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Maybe I just don't need to have that you know? I never really expected to anyway.
[A life in a van with just a group of tech nerds did not lend itself to a life of intimacy. Carl could attest to that, despite his best efforts]
It's not that I haven't done that sort of thing [He interjects, realizing he's making it sound like he's a 40 yr old celibate] But I just sort of assumed in my case they were always going to be one offs. Not um...I'm not what someone would peg as 'keeping material'.
[A blind phone hacker does not an ideal partner make, no matter how cute he might be]
And this person, you know, they've stuck by me longer than anyone else ever has. So maybe I'm just being selfish to think about more than that.
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It's not selfish to want to mean more to somebody. And, I dunno... for what it's worth, I think you'd be a keeper.
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Even though I send you annoying messages early in the morning?
[Whistler then quietly shifts his head so that his ear brushes against the tops of her knuckles, appreciating the closeness]
Wondering about this might be pointless anyway. I don't even know if I'm actually still alive back home.
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[Has she ever not been vocal about what she does and doesn't like? She squeezes his shoulder again, then her fingers still against his skin.]
... You think you died?
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You make a good point, Jules.
[He's never known her to be subtle about her opinions. Part of what he likes about her.
Then he shakes his head]
I don't know. I think its sort of a 50/50 thing. The last thing I remember was smashing a van into...something. I think it was a building. My head flew forward and his something hard, my body smashed against the steering wheel...and then I was here.
[He says it all with an even tone, like he's trying to work through a math problem rather than figuring out if he's dead or not]
But if I didn't succeed then he...also...might not....he might be in a lot of trouble if I wasn't successful. They all might be.
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Well, that sucks. [She hums.] 'He' being the person you like, right?
[Julie shrugs, though in this position it's more of a shuffle.]
You might not be dead. I'd be trying to stay on that side of the fence, if I were you.
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Yeah. He. We've been partners in crime since I was a little older than you.
[He butts his head gently against her]
Even if you don't believe my criminal street cred.
[Whistler and Mother had been paired up long before Bishop ever came knocking. In fact Whistler couldn't do much of what he does without Mother. Whistler was the ears and the cunning, Mother was the eyes and the strength.]
I hope I'm not. I'd really rather not die with the headline 'Blind man crashes into building'
[And more than that, he doesn't want to think that he failed his friends]
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[Whistler, after all, is not exactly what one has in mind when they think of a wanted felon. Even with the blindness put to one side.]
And yeah... that's kinda shitty, even if it means going out on a joke.
[What a way to go, right?]
So... this guy, what's he like?
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[Whistler make jokes about his own blindness. He doesn't mind people making jokes about it. What he minds is when people see him as only that. The blindness and nothing else. Then it's not funny, it's just ignorant. And so if the headline on the day of his death was 'blind man crashes into building' he knows what everyone would think. How stupid. How incapable and idiotic for someone like him to think he could do things. And for that reason somehow the death would seem warranted. Because a blind man had tried something he shouldn't.]
What he's like? Well, uh, you won't be surprised to find out he's got a code name too. Mother. But his name is Darren. Coupe years younger, he likes conspiracy theories...but I think a lot of that is just to bother Crease.
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[Come to think of it, she's never asked him why his name is Whistler... but then, she only ever calls him Whistler when other people are around to hear it, and they don't tend to hang out where other people are.
Julie leans her head against Whistler's shoulder, closing her eyes because she knows he can't see to make her self-conscious about the fact she looks like she's ready to fall asleep again.]
Your life sounds so interesting.
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Because he's a worrier. Mother Hen. Though Crease likes to say its because he's a Motherfucker.
[He half chuckles remembering the way they get at each other. Every time Mother comes up with a new conspiracy theory about the CIA or the moon landing...]
I guess my life has been kinda strange. It's been that way for so long now I kinda forget it's not normal.
[When he feels her head rest against his shoulder his expression softens]
You tired? ...I...I shouldn't have woken you up. I'm sorry.
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[She puffs out a breath but doesn't move her head from where it is.]
Yeah, you woke me up, but it's fine. I told you I'd come over here. You didn't believe me.
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You can sleep here if you'd like. I'll try to be quiet while I'm working.
[After all, he was the reason she dragged herself all the way over here. He didn't exactly feel good about having her trek all the way back when sleeping was something she could just as easily do here as there.]
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[It might be nicer, actually. Her apartment can get too quiet, especially when it's dark outside, in those couple of hours without a sun in the sky.
She sits up, rubbing underneath one of her eyes.]
Hey, can I ask you something? Do you have, like... an idea in your head of what I look like? Or... I don't know if that's a thing you can do.
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