Nothing Remotely Hookerish


delia_icon.gif toru_icon.gif

Scene Title Nothing Remotely Hookerish
Synopsis While grabbing the last of his things, Toru decides to wake up Delia for a little chat.
Date May 18, 2011

Fort Greene — Nick's Apartment

Sometime ~after~ Delia had gone through Nick's apartment sanitizing everything but before she'd gotten around to waking up, Toru found himself trundling into the apartment somewhat less-burdened than the winter saw him. Chucks in place of boots, Aperture Science hoodie, and while he's still wearing opera gloves, those are year-round-chic. He'd entered a bit loudly, though quiets it down a notch when he sees Delia sleeping. In her previous cleaning haze she may have noticed that a lot of Toru's things have been removed from the apartment, and when he does show up the only things that are left are a messenger bag and skateboard.

He's rather loathe to the idea of waking the girl up to talk to her, and as such there's a moment of fidgeting before he eventually wanders over to crack open a window near the bed, slumping onto the floor, and lighting up a cigarette. When Delia does eventually wake up, there will be the distinct odors of cannabis and tobacco drifting in the air.

It's been days since Delia whirlwind cleaned the apartment and the building itself. Many of the neighbours thought she was insane when she was scrubbing everything she had touched with bleach. The stench of it is still in the air of the main areas, there might have been a few complaints that eventually quelled by her reason of exposure. Inside the apartment, the smell has been laced over with the scent of her shampoo, soap, and too many hot showers. Not that she wanted to scrub the last of Nick's cooties off her, they were just dangerous ones.

Lying in his bed, Delia looks unrested. Dark circles under her eyes, the palor of her skin even whiter than normal, it makes the freckles that sprinkle across her nose and cheeks stand out more. One would think that she just went to bed after days awake instead of the other way around. The occasional beep of her phone hasn't done anything to wake her. The visible screen shows that the message was received 3 days ago and is still waiting for her to acknowledge.

Toru is much too ~honorable~ to go snooping through Delia's phone, but eventually that beep does start to get to him. The thought of putting music on runs through his head idly, but ultimately, once his cigarette gets toward the end, he pats out the butt on the bottom of his shoe, tromps over to the door to take the shoes off, pulls off his hoodie to reveal some other ridiculous t-shirt underneath, and goes to flop onto the bed next to Delibear.

And if that disruption isn't enough to wake her up, he rolls over to face her, watching her sleep all creepy-like for a moment and finally noticing just how tired she looks. And feels like a jerk for just a minute. Then shrugs, slides forward a little, and loops an arm around her stomach in half-spoon, the other arm propped under his head. "Come on," he grumbles in a voice wrongly suggesting that he himself has only just gotten up, "wake up. You gotta text."

It's not Toru, the text alert, the flouncing on the bed, or the arm around her waist that rouses Delia. A few minutes after he gets into the half spoon, a long breath is taken in, filling the redhead's lungs to capacity before it's let out slowly through her nose and her eyelids flutter open. Of course she jumps, completely not expecting the Asian in bed with her.

"Toru! When did you get— Why does it smell like— " she chooses her words carefully, "Amadeus' van in here? Have you seen him?"

The Deckard's name and the rapid question following it see Delia sitting up in the bed and shedding the blanket. She's tired, very tired, indicated by the wobble of her legs, like a lamb taking its first steps. Putting one hand to her forehead, she sits back down on the bed, hard enough to bounce Toru. "If you've seen him…" she adds, her voice still carrying the hard edge, "I want to see him."

Toru lets out a yelp of surprise, jumping away from Delia when she jumps after seeing him. Aaaaaaa. The question about Amadeus gets a bit of a lopsided grin from the Azn, but he just rolls onto his back, folding arms behind his head and getting all cozy. Then grunting when he gets bounced on the mattress, and rolling back onto his side again. "Jeez, girl, calm down." He runs a hand through his hair, which has gotten to be a bit shaggy with black roots showing through the orange, then runs palm over stubbly face.

"I ain't seen him for.. I'unno, couple weeks. I didn't wanna wake you up so I had a cigarette." A nice, vaguely-defined one, at that. "Then you were still asleep and your phone keeps beepin' and I didn't wanna hang out here all day, y'know— and whatta you wanna see that jerk for, anyway? I thought you guys had like, a hate-on goin'." He shifts a bit more where he's lying down, grumbling a little bit and very much taking on the appearance of a rather lazy cat. "You okay? You don't look so good."

"Yeah… more than hate now." Delia grumbles, both hands going to tangle in her curly hair, fingernails gripping into her scalp just enough so she can feel it. She doesn't explain it further. Slowly, her eyelids slide down, closing her eyes to the world and Toru around her. Hot tears drip drip down, splattering against the sweats she's wearing, they belong to Nick… In fact, everything she's wearing belongs to Nick. Leftovers from when the Londoner used to stay here.

"You moved out?" Moving out— she doesn't know which. "I mean… I know he's not here anymore… I just didn't think the place would be— or feel— so empty when I got here." The phone beeps again and she reaches blindly for it, pushing the power button rather than acknowledging the days old message.

"Wh.. hey.." Crying girls rank pretty high on the list of things that Toru hates seeing, as badass an image as he tries to present. And thus he moves in a bit more closely to go and wrap arms around Delia, assuming she doesn't push him away. It's a purely platonic gesture, of course; whether she lets him go in for the hug or not, he then checks his person for something that can double as a handkerchief. Eventually settles on peeling off one of his gloves and handing it over. "Come on, don't do that."

"I didn't really like mooching off him and since it's warmer out it's easier to do delivery shit, and I found a cheap place.." He shrugs helplessly. "It sorta.. it's the kinda lonely where you aren't waiting for someone to show up. So it isn't so bad." He lets an awkward silence pass there for a moment, eventually jumping back to the previous subject. "Anyway, if 'Mad did somethin' to bug you this much I'll go kick his ass, how's that sound?"

She doesn't refuse the hug, in fact, she leans into it and it only causes her to let loose a keening wail. Delia's never been an attractive crier. There are women that can pull it off and look good doing it, she can't. "Everything is going wrong… everything…" says the girl who keeps a bright face on in the face of almost every adversity. "I don't know what to do anymore, everything is… it's all jumbled up. I thought I could do it but I can't."

Then everything comes pouring out.

"Nick's sick, Amadeus thinks I'm a hooker, he attacked Mister Logan because he thought Mister Logan was my pimp… But he's not… I just work for him. Sort of… Nick doesn't like it because he doesn't like Mister Logan. I get it. I get why he doesn't like him but I just— I owe him so much. He helped me so much. I can't just take and not give him something back…" She takes a long sniffle and rather than using the offered glove and sullying it, she pulls the hem of Nick's t-shirt up and dries her face with it. "Sorry. I shouldn't put all this on you… I'm just… I can't do it anymore. I'm scared Nick's going to die."

In amidst this sudden outpouring of grief, Toru is about this close to a total BSOD when— wait. Logan. Probably— not— the same one? Except that he can't help but fixate on that name and— he's known Delia how long without this coming up? … Though it isn't like they'd ever talked about anything like that and.

No, he just can't let that go. "Mister Logan? John Logan?" Well, she did mention pimps. "Why would he think— how the hell do you know Logan?" His voice cracks a little bit on that last mention, and he pushes himself up to sit upright, pulling Delia along with him, though maybe not quite all the way. Still. "Amadeus. Attacked Logan. He got away with it?" Oh god, his world is falling apart, and it only took a few seconds. Running another hand through his hair, he takes in a few deep breaths, forcing them out through gently clenched teeth. "Why did he think Logan was your pimp? What the hell have you gotten into?" Sorry Nick, you're on the backburner for now.

Toru is not Nick. While she drops the respectful title for the latter, she insists on it for the former. "I met Mister Logan last year, he's helped me out of a few scrapes. The biggest favor was that hotel room I was staying in, my dad arranged it but I'm paying him back by working for him." There's a pause as she nearly glares at Toru before he makes the same assumption that Amadeus did. "Not as a hooker or anything remotely like a hooker."

Her mood switches from rabidly angry to desparately anguished, from Punch to Pierrot in less time than it takes a mazarati to hit 60mph. "I promised I'd do something about it but I don't know if I can. I haven't been able to find him in almost a week— " Though she's only been looking when she hasn't been searching for Nick. "And when I do find him— What am I supposed to do? I don't think he's ever used Refrain… I can't control him. I'm not good at hurting people but I want to so bad this time."

Toru totally catches on to that little 'hint' as to how one must refer to Meester Logan, but doesn't remark on it just yet. And he so doesn't assume Delia was a hooker; if nothing else, he knows what kind of girl John generally goes for and Delia doesn't really fit the mold from what he's seen. He huddles in on Delia all awkwardly, resting his face against her hair and taking in shallow little breaths, for his own part rather entirely uncomfortable about this whole situation.

"— Just so we're completely clear, you are talking about John Logan, English Guy, right?" He sort of awkwardly shifts around a little, gnawing on his lip. "Is.. is he okay? I mean— I can probably hunt down Amadeus, I have his number and sometimes I see his van, so— er— I mean, not that I care. I— don't even know that Logan. Guy." As far as he knows, Delia doesn't know any better. "But if it'll make you feel better I'm cool with street justice."

"Don't lie to me Toru," comes the hoarse reply. "You know him, you protect him just like anyone else who cares does. You were jealous because he gave me something of his, remember?" Turning a set of too blue eyes against a backsplash of bloodshot whites toward him, Delia presses her lips together. The cat is out of the bag. "In the dream, you were on the borders… You want to be inside but you can't because it's too late. He said that, when I told him that if someone loves you they'll come back. He said that by then it's too late."

She pauses an knits her eyebrows together. "You left him and then came back, didn't you? But it was too late?" There's no expression of pity or remorse for saying it, simply that it is what it is. "Sorry, I just— I don't want to lie anymore. About knowing."

This is usually the part in a conversation where Toru would start punching things, and it being Delia is making it very hard for him to let himself get appropriately angry. Tears aren't really much of an option either, though his eyes are starting to get awkwardly moist (he'll blame it on the humidity later), he pushes himself away and back up against the wall, hugging legs up against his chest.

"I'm not going to spend the rest of my life chasing after him," he mumbles, resting his head on his knees. So far, he's not doing a very good job of keeping that promise. "I made a stupid… a bunch of stupid, stupi— fucking stupid mistakes. I'm a goddamn idiot and — and stupid," he almost shrieks that last word. Quieting down a second, he forces himself to calm down a little bit before continuing. "I got scared and I ran and when I got back.." Helpless shrug. "I guess that dream really was you, then."

Sniffling and wiping her eyes with the hem of the t-shirt again, Delia gives an awkward affirmative jerk of the head. "Yeah, that's my ability. It's what I do for Mister Logan… I use my ability to help him when he needs it." The exact details of the arrangement are spared, not because Toru might have feelings about them but because of her promise to the subject matter. Logan doesn't want anyone to know why. "I'm not a hooker." She reiterates, just in case the Asian didn't believe her the first time.

"I don't blame you, really I don't. He can be a really nice guy when he wants to be." Which might be a silent hint at why Nick doesn't like the man, he wasn't very nice. "I've been avoiding him again, I yelled at him after stitching him up— " from Amadeus' attack goes unsaid. "I don't know how to say sorry to him anymore. I used to just say it but I know how he looks at people a little better. It's weak, he doesn't like that."

"I know you aren't a hooker," Toru manages a bit of a smile at that. "I don't think you're his type for that." Gradually, he unfolds himself a little bit, crawling towards the redhead to go back to wrapping arms about, face resting in the bend of her neck, contact possibly more for his benefit than for hers. Being reminded of his aforementioned stupidity doesn't help make him feel any less lonely, even if it is another thing on the list of things he'd never willingly confess to.

He just rests there for a moment, eyes closed, vague thoughts of how this is actually kind of nice. "He's not.. I don't think he.." Hrm. "It's hard to tell where you stand with him. Don't apologize if you're only doing it because you think you should. I think he'd prefer it if you stand by what you say." Murfle. "Anyway, I'll find Amadeus and beat him up," and maybe Logan will like me again. "I don't wanna see you go turn into an enforcer on Logan's account."

"I never say it because I should, I say it because it needs to be said because I feel bad if I think I might have hurt his feelings. I shouldn't have yelled at him but I was just so frustrated. He's so confusing all the time." But Delia stops there. Logan isn't what's foremost on her mind and the scent of the clothing she wears brings her back to that fact.

Bringing one arm around to hug Toru back, she shifts her shoulder just enough to allow a more comfortable resting spot for him. "I don't want him beat up— I just want him scared. I want him to feel bad for what he did to Mister Logan. Mister Logan didn't deserve what Amadeus did, especially not for me. I never asked for it."

Toru settles in cozily, eyes still closily, giving the vaguest of nods. "Still, I think you're better off just owning up to it instead of saying you're sorry. On the other hand, I'm probably not the best person to ask how to deal with him." Hn. Awkward twitch, there. "As far as Amadeus goes.. you're too good to get involved in all that, you know? That's what people like me are for. Only, like, people who are better at it than I am."

"That's kind of how I got involved with Logan in the first place." And he goes tense at thinking about that, and steers the topic a bit further away again. "But you shouldn't go getting messed up in that. You get the taste of blood and you'll never be able to stop, then we'll have to put you down. Like Old Yeller." Toru's trying very hard to sound funny, there, before his tone goes all serious once again.

"I.. I was gonna leave after talking to you, but I didn't really think you'd be all.. upset.. about stuff." Running that hand through his hair once more, he lets out a light breath. "Do you need me to stay?"

"No, I should get to work, actually. I haven't been there in days… I should have gone back on Monday except that I didn't want to wake up. I've been waiting for Nick— I just can't seem to get a hold of him." Meaning that instead of acting the part of the enforcer, Delia's been loitering and waiting for Nick to fall into a state where she can successfully see him.

"You don't have to do my job for me, you shouldn't have to." Not that she asked him to in so many words, she just doesn't want to break up their friendship. "Anyway, yeah… If you were going to leave, will you at least keep in touch? I don't have many friends that I can talk to like I can you."

“You deserve better friends than me,” Toru mumbles, not unlike another apartment resident Delia may know. “I’m a big dumb jerk and I pretty much only just complain, y’know.” He gives a small, insincere smile at that, shrugs, closes his eyes. Now he actually is starting to get a little tired. “Maybe I’ll stick around a while, anyway. For today. In case anything comes up.

“And I’ll try and track down Amadeus. Maybe not to beat ‘im up but.. at least kick him around a little, I dunno.” He’s got some rather violent ideas drifting around his head, though by the time he does track down the cat wailer, he figures some of the bloodlust will have subsided. Shifting around a bit, he gets himself a bit more cozy and somewhere dangerously near sleep posture, before finally mumbling, “Does Logan know about you and me being all friendsy? Maybe.. maybe don’t tell him about it, if he doesn’t.”

“I don’t know… He might, I have your phone number. If he ever goes through my phone or messages it’s like… right there.” He could go through her phone, even without his ability it’s not in the redhead’s nature to refuse her host. At least for something so simple. Delia turns to give Toru a small hug and slides out of the bed. Her knees wobble a little weakly when she stands and she ends up sitting back down right away and lowering her head with her eyes closed. “I have to get to work… Then I have to get going home. I haven’t been there for a little while, they might be worried.” Whether she actually plans to go back to Eltingville or not hasn’t been decided yet.

“I’ll call you though?” She lifts her head to give him a sideways glance and a weak smile. She’s notoriously bad at calling, he knows it. Everyone knows it. “Or you can call me?” Trouble is, so is he. Instead of waiting for the answer, she leans over to give him a tight hug and then attempts getting up again, this time with a little more success.

It’s only a few minutes later when the shower begins to run, then the apartment is filled with the echoes of horrible singing. It’s a voice only a mother could love.

“Well, I mean… don’t mention it, I guess. I dunno.” Toru shrugs helplessly. “I mean, if he is goin’ through your phone.. if he sees my name he isn’t gonna know I’m anythin’ more than some dude you ran into sometime. I don’t even know why I asked, anyway. Forget about it.”

When Delia goes to stand and sits back down again, he rubs her back supportively, and that slightly-sudden hug is met with awkward back-patting. “Yeah.. I should keep in touch better, I guess. I’m not really used to havin’ people around who I actually sorta know, y’know? It’s usually just like.. background extras. I’ll try and call ya sometime or somethin’.”

As she strolls off to the shower, he flops back onto the bed, arms stretched above his head. Temptation to just stay here and sleep is somewhat overwhelming, although less so when singing starts to drift around the apartment. Wincing a little, he digs into his pocket, pulling out battered iPhone and headPhones, setting Daft Punk to serenade him into nappytimes.

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