notrosecolored | Duplicity Contact Post

Of course you did.

Future me's got a nice functioning threesome going and is just fine. Let's stick with the drinks and motorcycles.

Speaking from a functioning threesome, it does make things better.

Those two things aren't related for you, are they? Like ended up in the functional threesome because you've got to work with a shithead?

Also do you paint motorcycles?

Probably a little, but not directly or any way that really matters.
It does make things better - it makes things better here, too. If nothing else I can direct them back to each other and get their attention off me, without worrying about them.

...I'm functionally color blind. You don't want me to paint anything.

Exactly the benefits.

I'd pick the colors you just hold the paintcan

what colors do they usually come in?

Purple and orange.

Then we’ll do purple

...Chris. Come to my apartment.

Why you gonna kiss me?

I’ll be there in two shakes, my wings are all new and improved anyway

[But he will absolutely just show up in the next five minutes or so. Likely without knocking, but he has the decency to drop the wings before coming in.]

You called?

Scott is standing in the kitchen with a cup of coffee when Chris comes in.

"I need an explanation for new wings." He is not going to kiss Chris, just take his glasses off (eyes closed) and hold them out. "Put those on."

He takes the glasses with a raised brow. “Friend of a friend took the restrictions off, I can use them whenever and for as long as I like. Seemed more useful with how much I was needing them. Just didn’t know his magic could play well with mine.”

He at least does as he’s told….and instantly hates it. “How the fuck do you navigate with these? Everything’s red. Or pink. How do you even manage depth perception?”

There's a red line on his nose but there's... no tanline on his face from the glasses. He holds his hand out for them, but doesn't move.

"Because no depth perception and red is better than blind?" he asks, dryly amused. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say most motorcycles are black, though, and that you probably shouldn't ask me what color things are."

“Well…yeah, alright.” He places them back in Scott’s hand and rubs the bridge of his nose. That felt odd, even without all the red.

Chris leans his arms on the counter. “Fine, black, then. You could’ve told me any color and I’d likely believed you. Carriages are either red or brown or painted in family colors, but cats here come in every color imagined.”

He slides them back onto his face and - he isn't bothered, though he is sure they felt odd. If nothing else they're heavy. "I know, and realizing you believed me is why I dragged you over here. Don't trust me with that stuff. That said you can paint it whatever color you want. It's yours."

"Well, thanks for not being an ass." He shrugs. "Time yet to think on that, need one built and ready first before she's getting name or sails to her."

He braces his chin in a palm as he thinks. "I could probably put research to it, but do you happen to know why some are covered in a casing and others all bare parts and mechanisms?"

"Weight, stability, handling responsiveness, and protection or lack of for the moving parts. Expense." In short yeah and it's multi-faceted. "If you're really doing a build, less exposed is better - especially here, where I'm not at all sure of parts availability, and you being new enough that you're going to crash." At least once. Don't break anything he's helping build, please.

Chris listens intently, at least. He'll definitely have to do some research, but that was okay. Less exposed sounded fine to him.

At the mention of 'going to crash' Chris does make a face. He looks around and finds a mug near the sink he can reach so long as he stretches across the counter. Once it's in hand, he glances to Scott and smashes the handle against the edge of the counter to break it off.

"Yeah, I'm gonna crash, but it'll be fine as much as I am. Here." He collects the piece and holds it to the side of the mug where it's edges line up. A faint glow lingers around his finger as he traces it along the break, the porcelain sealing itself as he goes. In seconds, it's put to rights and he slides the mug over to Scott.

"I can fix that too, bigger breaks just take longer."

He tilts his head as he watches that display, outwardly emotionless but inwardly very interested and not because of motorcycles.

"Come with me."

He might have just solved a problem he was worried about, and has been since his arrival.

Chris shrugs. "Alright."

Curiosity had him following wherever Scott was headed.

Something to do with his magic, probably?

He could have left Chris there and probably should have, but he heads into the (totally undecorated, unlived in appearing) bedroom, opens a top dresser drawer and pulls out a pair of glasses similar in style to the ones on his face.

"Do you have limitations on material, or anything else?"

Chris can't help but glance around the (drab, impersonal, sterile-feeling) bedroom, but it's easy enough to focus on Scott, at least.

He offers his hand out. "Nope, so long as you've the pieces and I'm not trying to fuse two unrelated things together, I can fix near-on anything. Magic that's broken from a broken item I can't do anything for, but I'm guessing that doesn't apply here."

There's a pause while Scott puts that last sentence together in a way that makes sense. He does not hand the glasses over - they're not broken, yet, but they also don't have the same frame as the ones he's wearing, they're heavier and-

Okay, fine.

"It doesn't."

He lifts and brings the glasses down hard on the dresser.

If it works, he has a resource and one less worry.

If it doesn't... well he's still got his visor and the glasses on his face.

There's a crunch that has Chris flinching a bit. And his confusion rising.

He crosses his arms. "Why the fuck are you breaking your glasses, Scott?"

They're clearly different than the ones he's wearing, but Chris wasn't going to begin to guess what was up with them, Scott's world was weird.

"Because if you can fix that, then I have more options than you can't - and if you can't then I still have the pair on my face, my visor, and knowledge about how careful I need to be."

He thought it was pretty obvious.

"Gods, you're the worst."

Chris bats Scott's hand away to weave his magic through the pieces and fuse them back together. Once they're whole again, he folds them and offers them back, that vague annoyance still lingering.

"Satisfied? I'll fix your anti-blow up glasses if they get broken."

"Great, because that material isn't easy to come by anywhere and they're going to take a beating here."

Because he's going to make sure they do.

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