riverviewlogs | [semi-open] tryin' to get a handle on a reason to shine

Entry tags:

[semi-open] tryin' to get a handle on a reason to shine

who: roy harper and whoever else
what: catch-all for planned threads and open prompts
when: August-September
where: wherever
warnings: Roy is a recovering alcoholic/addict and that's going to come up a lot in this entry because he's struggling with staying on the wagon in the wake of Jason going home. The main entry and open prompts in it will skim over the topic of addiction, to make it easier to avoid, I'll keep the bulk of in-depth meta about addictions in the "bar" prompt in the comments. If you want a thread with Roy that doesn't go in-depth about it, just shoot me a PM or note in your subject line that you're not interested in addiction issues, and I'll avoid it as much as possible!

[Things had just been getting better, they'd just been settling down, he'd been getting used to being here. Making friends. Feeling easy with things. Feeling less lonely than he had at home with the kids and Jason and people around. He'd been actually living instead of just kind of surviving in the gutter like he had been since he and Jason split up back home.

But of course, he's Roy Harper, and things never stay okay for Roy Harper. At some point, he's going to come to terms with that, to just accept that after things get better they're always going to get worse.

It's been about a week since he woke up and Jason was just gone. Gone without leaving a note, without saying good-bye. Just disappeared. Since then, Roy hasn't really left Wayne Manor. He's barely even left his room, except to trudge to the kitchen and pour some hot water into a cup of ramen noodles. Maybe not the healthiest coping mechanism, but the bonus of not leaving the manor was that it limited his options when it came to alcohol - if nothing else, Jay had known him and never kept it where Roy knew about it. He'd managed to keep himself from tearing Jason's room apart looking for anything he might've had stashed, but he's pretty sure that Jason would've at least pitched the bottles out of the window before he left. Maybe. Hopefully he'd cared that much.

Today's the day, though. It's the day he's going to finally clean up and get out of the house. Go somewhere. Do something productive. Maybe it'll make him feel better, stop wallowing, to go out and participate in the world, to move his body, to get his life figured out.

It totally has nothing to do with the fact he's run out of ramen.]

i. gym

[After shaving the red fuzz off his jaw and having an actual shower, the first place Roy goes is to the gym. Dressed in a black tank top and a pair of sweatpants, hands wrapped up, a handkerchief wrapped around his head to keep his hair out of his face, he spends a long time hitting the punching bag in the corner. There's no grace or real skill involved, he's just hitting the bag over and over, letting himself take out some of the emotion.

That much shows on his face - Roy's always been crap at hiding what he's feeling, especially when what he's feeling is so intensely negative. His mouth is drawn down, his brows are furrowed, and it's pretty obvious he's punching out his feelings. It takes about 45 minutes of this before he's stepping back, resting a hand against the bag, and taking a few sharp gasps for breath, hair and tank top slightly damp with sweat.]

Damn. One week and I'm already out of shape.

ii. walkabouts & smoothies

[After the gym, he's tired but his brain is still buzzing unpleasantly, and he needs to move, needs to keep his mind off things. Needs a distraction, because all he wants is to be out of his own head for a bit. So he walks through the Quarantine, through the downtown square, takes a look at the tent cities going up in the park, he browses through stores and outdoor markets and asks people questions at booths and in shops just to keep his mind occupied.

Eventually, he's exhausted, dragging his feet, and he stops in a smoothie place to get something to drink. Leaning against the bar facing the window with his giant cup of green juice he can hardly taste, he rests his cheek in his hand and stares out the window, expression distant.]

This sucks.

[Quiet, ostensibly to himself, but definitely loud enough to draw attention. Whoops...doesn't even occur to him that he might come across as talking crap about the smoothie...]

iii. wildcard

Hit me up with a random starter if you'd like one, or shoot me a PM or message on plurk at caffemisto for a custom one.

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[And eventually he ends up here. In front of a bar, the one he knows would've been his favourite back in the day, with the perfect balance of upbeat fun and gritty underworld appeal. It's so appealing, a kind of wonderland, and he can feel the itch under his skin, the twist just under his diaphragm, the sensation like gravity pulling him toward the nearest liquor bottle. He can practically taste it on his tongue, the smooth bite of it, the rush of pleasure, the sensation somewhere between a vivid memory and a detailed daydream of all the fear and loneliness and emptiness falling away under the haze of inebriation.

It almost hurts, it feels like an injustice that he can't do it, can't just go in and drink it all away, it feels like the universe is wronging him. His throat feels dry as he leans against a bench in front of the bar just staring at it, watching as the door opens and he can hear the live music and chattering inside for just a moment before that portal to heaven closes. Watches the people smoking outside before going back in to finish their beers, smells the acrid scent of cigarette smoke mixed with the fruity sweet scent of vape steam, and wants that too. Paces back and forth for a long time before he gives in. He goes inside.

And once he's inside, he goes to the bar, he sits down, he orders a drink - a cheap whiskey, something he'd developed a taste for at his worst, strong and acrid and awful and perfect. For a long time, he just sits there. Staring at it, not drinking. Trying to work himself past it, through it, trying to talk himself into it and then out of it and then back into it again. Trying not to give in and trying to convince himself it's no big deal all at the same time.]

[OOC: I'm open to characters running into him pacing outside the bar or once he's gotten inside. Or anywhere else in or around the bar.]

Edited 2018-08-12 08:37 (UTC)

South is. Well. Running from her own demons. She's been dwelling on some of her past again. Still. Whatever. She has a few people she could go to, if nothing else than to get a distraction if she doesn't want to talk directly about her issues, but she feels like she's bothering them. Pestering. Being a dead weight. Everyone has a past, everyone here has something, she needs to suck it up and fucking deal. Right?

Deal and 'get shitfaced drunk' sound about the same to her, and she's entirely planning to get so drunk she can't see at all, heading into the bar with that plan in mind.

That is, until she sees a familiar redhead sitting there, staring at a drink. For a moment, she doesn't think much of it. He looks like he's dealing with shit, like he’s working through a bad day or something. Like many people do at a bar. But it hits her slowly that he shouldn't be in here- he shouldn't have that drink, even if he's not touching it yet, she knows he's on the wagon. In recovery. Not supposed to drink- it's a big deal to him, from what she remembers of their first contact on Friendr. Is he falling off the wagon?

It's not her business. She knows it. But she's South and she's a nosy, bossy, pain in the dick and she's walking straight to him.

"That the first one you've decided to have a staring contest with, or do I have a good reason to shove my foot in your ass for previous ones?" Yes. She's here to help, look at her go, so helpful.

Edited (Spelling is hard ) 2018-08-12 19:15 (UTC)

Honestly? Roy's got nothing against a friend who wants to talk him out of something stupid. In fact, not having a friend willing to talk him out of something stupid is exactly why he's here.

Jason is gone. The moon sure seems a whole hell of a lot emptier for it.

When she sits down next to him and starts talking, he doesn't respond for a moment, aside from lifting his elbows to the bar, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hands, and staring down at the drink a little harder. For a few moments, he doesn't reply at all, then sighs, deeply.

"Yeah, it's the first one. Been fighting this particular demon for half the day now. Lucky me, that you show up right when I was about to wave the white flag."

The timbre and tone of his voice don't really sound exactly grateful, like he thinks he's lucky. But he does lift his head a bit, glance up at her, and offer a half-hearted smile.

"Fancy meeting you here."

South's about to prod again, maybe a little more frustrated with the silence, when he finally speaks again. She pulls her eyebrows down and together with a sigh.

Well, his gratefulness doesn't sound genuine but she's glad for it, he'd probably be kicking himself like hell if he didn't pull through it. She's not sure how to help, frankly, she doesn't restrict herself with alcohol- probably should, it's probably an issue. She has a lot of issues that are unaddressed, but she wants to help. Somehow.

"That the best you got?" She asks to his line, expression softening and a faint smile pulling across her lips, "I knew a pro at pick-up lines, you gotta do better than that, bud."

Sometimes it's hard to notice you have an unaddressed issue until it puts you at rock bottom, and Roy's been there. He's been there a few too many times. Maybe he's there right now, or close to it, and...well, it's kind of nice having someone here to notice he's getting there and kick his ass. That's always been what worked best for Roy Harper, when anything worked at all.

"Man, don't make me go up against a pro at pick-up lines, I'm cheesy at best and I don't know if I can handle the pressure tonight."

It's half a joke, half not. The truth is, he's feeling down enough on himself, feeling worthless, he doesn't have much confidence, not for trying to pick up a girl, not for taking care of himself. Hell, he barely has the fortitude to stay sober.

"Cheesy is good, plenty of chicks dig cheesy. Plus, ya know, all pickup lines are pretty fucking cheesy to begin with. And you're cheesy already too, so, it works." She says as she shrugs, glancing at the glass again before taking a slow breath.

She has no idea what she's doing here, but keeping him talking has to be a good thing, right? Chit-chat, teasing, keeping his mind off of whatever's bothering him. Distractions help her, after all.

In the attempt to keep it nice a light, she shifts in her seat to lean over, elbow resting closer to him before she says, "I’m not a photographer, but I can picture me and you together." Not the cheesiest but it's something. "Or maybe: I was wondering if you had an extra heart. Mine was just stolen."

When she comments that plenty of chicks dig cheesy, that pickup lines are cheesy, and he's cheesy, that manages to get another little half-smile out of him. Then she's leaning over, her elbow sliding up next to his on the bar, and she's giving him back a couple of lame pickup lines of her own.

It startles a laugh out of him, and he leans over, nudging his shoulder against hers.

"Are you going to kiss me, or do I have to lie to my diary later?"

Lifting a brow, he offers her a weak smile.

She eyes him a moment, considering the probably joking question before she shrugs, leaning in to press the faintest of kisses to the corner of his mouth before saying, "It'd be fucked up to make you a liar."

It's just a small, more teasing thing than anything- but it does give her what she's sure is the greatest idea.

"You're pretty, and I'm hot. Together we'd be pretty hot," South gives another lame pickup line before adding, "What do you say we leave this shithole and find something to distract ourselves with?"

Something about that, the way she just leans in and goes for it, is reassuring. Reminds him that he's not completely down-and-out. Someone wants him, even a little, and that tiny bit of affirmation gives him enough of a boost to make him feel like he can deal, at least for tonight.

Exhaling a bit when she starts making pickup lines at him again, he makes a soft chuckle, shakes his head, and pushes the glass away from himself.

"If I follow you home, will you keep me?"

For a moment, he just looks at her, then lifts his hand and brushes his knuckles against her jaw.

"Yeah. Let's do that. I could use a distraction."

His chuckle- and pushing the glass away- makes her crack a wide grin, shaking her head at his pickup line before she hops up.

"I just might." Keep him that is, she has a couple stray pets already, after all.

South takes a step quickly before glancing back, expecting him to follow, "My place isn't far from here, and I have no roomies." Nice and alone, plenty of opportunity to have some fun.

[ Finn is a pretty frequent gym patron himself. It's been one of the easier ways to keep to a routine since he first got here. Especially in the first days after arriving, really, when the free time was almost too much to deal with, before he'd finally signed on with the Perimeter Guard.

He's better with a goal in mind, by force of ingrained habit; even a goal as seemingly trivial as being in a certain place at a certain time. Sometimes he spars with Jyn. Sometimes he just sees what looks most appealing or challenging to him at the moment. It's a good way to get out. A good way to stay occupied. A good way to get out restless, anxious energy without having to actually think about something causing it. He ends up doing that more often than he'd like to admit.

Finn catches sight of Roy on his way through to the treadmills-- almost veers off course to say hi before he takes in the sort of... vibe Roy is boring into the punching bag. He knows that vibe, or some approximation of it. Not frightening or off-putting in itself. His expression brings out a spike of worry, least of all after roughly a week of being Definitively Not Around, but a face like that might do better for having a little time to get worked through, in Finn's experience.

So he goes back on his way for a brief stretch. Stays in the building, gets in some work here and there as the whim takes him. He's kind of already well at the point where he knows he's planning to at least say hi before leaving, but he'd rather exercise a little patience than stroll right up and interrupt a whole process. No immediate or imminent danger. No reason to get super Extra.

When Roy looks like he's stepping back for a breather longer than two seconds, Finn is pretty swift to find his way back over, water bottle in hand. He offers it. ]

What, is that thing usually knocked off the ceiling by now?

[ It would be nice to say he's got enough of a poker face to school the concern out of his expression, but there's no point in his life where he's had the poker face for that. ]

[Roy's so lost in his own head he doesn't even really notice Finn coming into the room, which is a pretty big deal, because noticing Finn is a particular talent of his. Instead, he's focused on the bag, on trying not to think about how empty things feel and the fact he's alone again. All that, it's self-defeating and he knows it. It's not like Jason was the only person he had here, but he's the only person from home, the only person he'd had who felt like family, like part of his team, even though they'd split up back home. He'd been willing to forgive. Roy's willing to forgive almost anything, if it means not being alone.

Maybe that's a bad thing, but it's part of who he is, and he's come to accept that it's going to stay that way.

When he hears that familiar voice, though, Roy turns, chest rising and falling heavily, the front center of his tank top slightly darker with sweat, his cheeks flushed and forehead shiny. There's a sort of weak feeling in his arms that he knows from experience is going to turn into nasty post-gym stiffness when he wakes up tomorrow, but right now it feels good. Hell, maybe it'll even feel good tomorrow, he's in a masochistic mood like that.

But it's good to see Finn, and he feels a little jolt in his gut and chest, remembering that maybe he's not as alone as he thought he was, that getting lost in his own head can sometimes mean not appreciating what he has. Miserable, maybe, but not alone. For a moment, it's all he can do not to just hug Finn as tight as he can with arms made out of rubber.

Instead, he just offers a wan smile.]

Nah. Even my punches aren't that good. I just feel like I've got a couple wet noodles attached to my shoulders and I can barely breathe.

[He shakes his head a bit.]

So, long time no see. Where've you been?

[It's a joke. Lame, a little flat and half-hearted, but it's something.]

[ Finn's quick to smile back, if a little more tentatively than usual. It is good to see Roy, after all. ]

I've been around. Mostly working. Keeping busy. [ He gets the feeling Roy knows that whole song and dance. As someone with no poker face and no chill (and someone just not great at subtlety anyway), Finn doesn't really step around prioritizing the concern still lingering in the back of his mind. ] Are you okay? It wasn't really looking like you came here to have a good time.

Good to hear.

[It's mild, not at all bitter, not at all insincere, but also not really all that passionate. Lifting a hand, Roy presses his fist into the bag again, a not-quite-mockery of a punch that just leaves it swaying, then sighs a bit, drops his hand.

He was just about to push a smile, change the subject, when Finn asks if he's okay. Says he wasn't looking like he came to have a good time. And suddenly Roy is feeling that tight squeeze in his throat, the building pressure behind his eyes, the stinging, and it's pathetic but he wants to cry.

Miserable but...maybe not alone.]

Yeah, well, you got that right.

[Still not bitter, but not happy. Roy rubs at his bicep, avoiding eye contact, mouth pressed into a straight line.]

Jaybird left. Didn't even say good-bye.

[ Oh.

It does make sense, easy as that. Finn never met the guy, doesn't know too many personal details about him; but he doesn't necessarily need details beyond the way Roy says it, the look on his face, the way that Roy's mentioned him before. Called him family.

Finn's expression, a little pinched with concern, immediately softens. If Poe or Rey shipped off home without so much as a word, or Jyn or Cassian-- well.

It's safe to say he wouldn't be in the best shape, either.

He reaches out on impulse, wraps his fingers loosely around Roy's wrist. ]

I'm sorry.

[Family is the closest word he has for Jason Todd. Like a brother, a best friend...and sure, maybe as something else, maybe those thoughts had been brewing in the back of his mind. Maybe it had sometimes even felt like Jason felt that way too. But now? No way any of those feelings had been reciprocated. No way Jason felt like they were family or best friends or anything else, not if he could just leave like that.

For a moment, the bitterness shows on his face, even while Finn looks at him with that worried little frown on his face and wrinkles between his brows. Then he sighs it out, lifting a hand to rub at his forehead.]

Not your fault, man.

[He almost says it, for a second, how much it sucks to feel like he's always the one who cares about other people more than they care about him. It's selfish to feel like he's the one putting out more than he's getting and for that to be a bad thing somehow.]

[ He's not always good at this. Comfort, gentleness. Knowing what people need. Not for a lack of desire to help, not for lack of caring; just the result of nature running up against a wall made from a lifetime without practice or example.

The people he cares about are all people he wants to be able to be careful with. He knows good people, and Roy is certainly in that number. He'd like to be worth half the regard and care they seem to give him.

Which really just means he can put his stubbornness to some sort of good use and try until it feels less clumsy, more natural. Basically for the rest of his life. Sounds legit. ]

It's not yours, either. [ And then when that fails to feel like enough, leaning in in the way he tends to do when he's trying to make any kind of sincere point (because obviously 110%-ing all aspects of life is the best way to be): ] I know it's not easy. Getting separated. If you need anything--

[ Is it rude to say "I'm here" in this situation where they're talking about someone not being here anymore? Time to overthink that. The wrinkles sharpen, ease back again as he hesitates. ]

You can let me know.

[The fact is, Roy hasn't had a lot of comfort or gentleness in his life - mostly tough love and kicks in the ass. And he's grateful for those, really grateful, because he knows himself, knows that it sometimes takes a bit of roughness to get through his own thick skull. So if Finn isn't the best at gentle and comforting, that's fine, because Roy might not even know how to deal with it properly if he were perfect at it.

As it is, Finn's a lot gentler than most people Roy's received support from, and it surprises him. Glancing up at him again, Roy smiles a little, it's small and crooked but it's not fake and it's not forced.]

Thanks, man. Seriously. I mean, I'm pretty used to getting separated, and it sucks, but I think this one just...it stings, you know? Not even a good-bye.

[Mouth pressed into a thin line, he shakes his head, pushes a loose strand of red hair behind his ear, tucking it under the handkerchief.]

I might...you know, if you don't mind and you really mean that about needing things...might ask you a really big favour.

[ Aha. A success. Or at least a little bit of a genuine smile. That's always good to see. ]

I mean it. And I don't mind. Wouldn't say it if I did. [ Obligation isn't his cup of tea, for the most part. ] What can I do?

[There's something about Finn's response that's stupid-reassuring, and Roy feels some of the funk lift. He's been wading through it for a week, and like two minutes with Finn has it lifting. What kind of magic is this, honestly?]

You wanna hang out with me for a bit? Maybe til bedtime, if that's not too much to ask? I could really, really use the distraction.

[He could use someone there, someone he respects and likes, someone he won't end up falling off the wagon in front of. The last thing he wants is to relapse in front of Finn, to get sloppy drunk and do stupid things in front of Finn. It'll be a good reason to stay on the wagon tonight, and he could really use that. Right now, he doesn't have a lot of good reasons.]

[ It's a serious request. Finn treats it as one.

He's done far crazier things for people he's known for far less time. ]

You've got it. As long as you want. [ Even if he'd had plans in the works, they all just got rescheduled. Like so much dust in the wind. ] And if it helps, I can think of a lot of worse ways to spend a day.

[That's what Roy likes about Finn, or maybe just what makes him feel like he's not on thin ice. He's had friendships like that before, where he was the funny, fun guy, and the minute he had some negativity twisted up in his head he wasn't cool anymore. Which sucked, because despite the general air of flippancy he gives off, Roy gets twisted up in his own head with negativity way more often than you'd think.

With Finn, there's none of that thin ice. He asks for something that seems simple but means a lot, and that Roy knows from experience can be a pretty hard ask. After all, he's pretty damn aware of how easy it is to get tired of being around him.]

You sure about that? I'm probably not gonna be my usual fun self.

[It's said with a twist of wry, self-deprecating humour.]

It's not like I only have good days, either. [ Sort of a joke. If a very basic attempt at one, designed less for the humor and more for assurance.

Similarities are something Finn draws on, seeks out, respects. Even if he can't say he has or necessarily could understand the full picture of-- whatever Roy is worried about getting dragged down by right now. There are a lot of variables. At the end of the day, he knows what it's like to either need to have someone around or to know you'd do better for having the company. To not be at your best in a way that goes beyond the physical. Happens to him, regardless of how rarely he tends to admit it. Happens to Poe. Happens to Chyler, to Taako. Happens a lot more than he used to think it could.

It's allowed.

He finds himself glad he came here today, at this particular time, to this particular place. That he got the chance to help somehow. ]

You're still you. Pretty sure I can handle it.

I get that.

[Roy gives the bag another little shove, and exhales. It seems to take a little of the pressure, the weight off, having Finn around, and...Roy's starting to realize that Finn makes him feel like that a lot. And maybe he's starting to realize that it isn't too often that the people in his life make him feel lighter, that usually he's the one trying to lighten them up.]

Man, has anyone told you you're like...the best?

[It's lame, it's not really any proper way to express all the stuff he's thinking, doesn't really cover it all. But there's time for that later. He's still all too aware that he's a clinger, Jason had told him that all the time, and he knows it's kind of a turn-off.]

We should find, you know, something else we've never experienced and try it.

[ 90% of compliments are critical hits in this economy, and "you're like... the best" definitely hits in that percentage. That draws out the definite edges of a smile almost in spite of Finn's best efforts.

It's a nice thing to hear someone say. He's easy. ]

How hard can it be to find something new in a town like this? [ Between a couple of decades of not having a life and the sheer variety of life forms trying to make a place for themselves, anything's possible. Finn is maybe a little easy about that, too. ] Worse comes to worst, we can always fall back on target practice and a movie.

[Fact is, Roy's living in that same economy. Compliments are everything, when all you want is to fit in and have people. Compliments mean someone cares, someone thinks something positive about you, that you matter.

Taking a shaky breath, he offers an equally shaky smile, and nods a bit.]

You've got a great point there. I hear some of the alien cuisine is spot-on. And I somehow still haven't seen a holovid.

[Another shaky breath, and he pushes away from the bag, lifts a hand to wipe across his sweaty brow.]

You ever been in a steam room? They have a pretty great one here.

[ Aha. He files that one away for future reference. If they don't end up seeing any holovids in particular for whatever reason, it'll be good to remember Roy still hasn't caught one. Finn hasn't checked a lot of them out in this city recreationally, but he's got plenty of experience with them. Perks of the sci-fi universe.

Actually, even if they do see one, it could be a nice thing to do again on a lighter day, too. All the better not to accidentally build a sad association. Obviously. ]

Haven't really used it. I usually get done and hit the showers. Head out for some target practice or something.

[ Somewhere in the city, Skye feels the inexplicable urge to tell Finn that target practice is training, not real fun. There are a lot of technicalities. ]

I'm not against trying it out, though.

[Whether or not they go today or later, Roy's got it in his head now - ask Finn to a movie sometime. And maybe he'd think of it like a date if he weren't so damn painfully aware of how much he doesn't really deserve a date with someone like Finn. Not when he's feeling like this, not when he's in this state, a barely-recovering addict struggling to cling to the wagon. Finn deserves better, just like Jason had (and who probably realized it, that's probably why he left the way he did) and Kori and everyone else he'd lost.

Pushing that thought aside, because all it does is make him want a drink, Roy waves his hand and exhales.]

Join me in the steam room then? It's really relaxing, and I could use that right now.

[A slight smile.]

Sound okay?

[That last question is a little uncertain, more than usual.]

Sounds fine.

[ He's quick to agree. If it doesn't sound bad, no reason to think it won't be good. As far as harmless time-killing goes. Not that the line in the sand for Roy asking for things isn't well and truly out of sight regardless. The limit might not exist. ]

I like relaxing. [ Finn smiles back. Tips his head. Offers his best "after you" gesture. ] Not always good at it, but I like it.

[ So you know. Nothing personal if he proceeds to bring his posture with him. ]

[The quick agreement is kind of a relief, even though Roy feels that familiar surge of weird guilt he feels so often when someone is actually nice to him, agrees to his suggestions without needing to be coaxed and bribed. Like he's pulling the wool over Finn's eyes or something, like he's tricking him somehow. Who'd want to agree so easily to hanging out with someone like Roy anyway? Who'd want to try new things with that kind of easy trust with Roy?

It doesn't make sense.

Still, Roy's never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he offers a shaky smile and ducks his head toward the locker room as Finn gestures that he should go first, and starts walking, tries to ignore the shakiness in his arms that gives him a vivid preview of how sore they're going to be tomorrow.]

Hah. I'm too good at relaxing.

[True, and the first little swipe he's taken at actually talking to Finn about what's going on in his head, what the real problem is - Jason leaving sucks, sure, but the root problem isn't really that. It's about how Roy's reacting, the desire to drink, how damn incapable he is of comforting himself without alcohol, how incapable he is of convincing himself of his own worth.

Heading into the locker room, he strips off his tank top, his shorts and underwear at the same time, and wraps a towel around his waist, glancing over his shoulder at Finn with a half-smile.]

I'll go get the room warmed up. See you in a sec?

[ There is something in the way he says it. Words that sound like they may have been meant to be a joke, only for the tone to fall flatter.

Finn can't judge anyone for not being good at putting up a front, obviously, but it's definitely something that he notes. The more he's aware of, the more he notes, the better his chances are of helping more than hindering. Sometimes that goal is all he can really think to set.

He's got his shirt off and half-folded when Roy looks back. Someone has to be That Guy. That folding guy. Spend long enough in barracks and there's almost a comforting familiarity to a locker room like this one. Sort of the lack of ceremony that goes hand in hand with nudity. ]

If I get lost on the way, you've got permission not to let me live it down.

[ He will allow it just this once. Not that not allowing it ever keeps him from getting dragged by his beloved friends. Finn drops his shirt onto a bench and starts making quick work of his boots. ]

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[semi-open] tryin' to get a handle on a reason to shine

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