genice: (greet | a new friend)
Victor Nikiforov ([personal profile] genice) wrote in [community profile] riverviewlogs2017-04-14 08:53 pm

(closed) | you had me crawling through dust

who: tolemi & victor
what: tolemi and victor meet up for self defense and cooking exchanges. look, it pans out? (maybe!)
when: three days following their text message chain during the flower festival week
where: communal housing, floor seven, unit two
warnings: none; will update as applies!

He'd taken Makkachin out for a jog earlier that morning, choosing a different path through the roads near the communal housing complex. He loves what he learns in those early morning hours. Which streets are more lively, who opens up shops, what faces (alien and otherwise) he encounters and greets with a smiling, perhaps too cheerful hello. He enjoys the congenial sort of social he's allowed to be all over again here; a city is a living being of its own kind, and he's slowly getting a sense for Riverview's pulse.

Yuuri is out at the East Community Center, Victor having splashed water on his face following his jog. He'll shower later, after his meet up with Tolemi, though as of yet he's not sure who he's meeting past the attached handle to their number. Not the wisest plan of action, but he's managed this twice in the last handful of days. He frowns at himself, running a hand through his hair. It's not a habit he can allow himself to maintain.

It's not a carelessness he can afford.

Still, when he hears a knock on his door, he heads toward it with a ready smile and Konpeito in hand. The tribble (never identified as such: Victor and Yuuri refer to it as being a "dustbunny") had been gently purring its contentment until he was settling it on his shoulder, still unsure how in the world Kon ever managed to stay anywhere. Makkachin lifted his head off his paws, watching the door with a curious expression on his face. He's not yet motivated to get up and wander over. He's an old enough dog that he likes a little guarantee on his own affection and or the food potential before he stirs himself into action.

If it's just a delivery person, he wasn't getting pets. What a sad moment that would be for the poodle.

Victor unlocks the door and opens it to greet the person standing beyond. He's in a loose shirt and tighter sweats; all easy to move in, and all as easy to casually lounge about in if he was so inclined. Smiling, he lifts a hand and turns his wrist, his wave more a motion of his fingers than anything else. "Good morning!"

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