[But he’s setting his empty takeout box aside and rising to his feet whether or not he receives an answer in the process. He won’t take his cane, because this isn’t a long trip—]
No need. There’s a fridge in the back full of “fizzy drinks.” I’ll fetch something for us.
[Hm. He supposes they do share that belief in common, most especially now. Maybe such an idea resonated with him when he was younger, and thus he committed its entirety to memory; but he's sure he lost sight of it in his later years, only to loop back around to this belief once more. Funny how that works.]
Or maybe I just like impressing others with 132 lines of poetry read aloud.
[He smirks. But then he disappears into the back.
Then he returns, two soda cans in-hand.]
Do you prefer... [Squints. Wry:] "Orange 'n Cream" or "Artificially Flavored Grape"?
[ Says Declan "eidetic memory" Steelsong. He tugs the goggles back down over his face to resume the process of putting the tattoo gun back together. There's a bit more finesse required here so it's slower going.
When V comes back, he's once again treated to the sight of Declan's cartoonishly giant eyes lifting his way. ]
I am deeply intrigued by the phrase "Artificially Flavored Grape".
[ And yes, Declan's outfit for the day is indeed quite purple. He flashes a grin, snapping his fingers as if to produce some spark of magic. Of course, it doesn't work, so he waves it off and plucks up the can instead. ]
Well, of course it does. It brings out my eyes.
[ His eyes which are still cartoonishly huge. He's having a real Mister Magoo moment over here. ]
[ It might be a habit that Declan never breaks, which is fine by him. People already think he’s weird. What’s a little more? ]
Look at you. All that poetry is really going to your head.
[ Another grin. He cracks the can open, bringing it to his lips for a taste. He considers it a moment, tilting his head. Another sip seems to be in order, and so he repeats the process again, this time with a bonus smacking of his lips, like that will somehow help him figure out how he feels. ]
Wow. You can really taste the “artificial” part. But I don’t hate it.
[Oh my god STOP WITH THE EYES, he catches V mid-sip and the sight is again so comedic it nearly has the soda going down the wrong way. He sputters a little, coughing, before he can even hope to raise his can in a toast.]
You- [wheeze] -really need to take those off while we're talking, Declan.
[ He raises his soda, giving it a little tilt like they've just clinked the aluminum together despite being across the room from each other, and brings it to his lips for another drink. He makes a considering face again. ]
Mm. Yep, still don't hate it!
[ And now it's back to work! He tugs his goggles down again and resumes his task of piecing the tattoo gun back together. While he doesn't work nearly as quickly as he did while taking it apart, it's clear he's going to have it back in working order in no time. ]
Do you have any idea if you might have broken something when taking the other one apart?
[He returns to leaning back in his chair, nursing his Orange 'n Cream soda now and again. The taste is very sugary, and very artificial. But V doesn't hate it, either, even if it's not something he thinks he'd normally gravitate to. But maybe he was mistaken. Who knows?]
I'm not sure. I was careful, and I don't think I lost any pieces in the process. But...
[He smirks again. Worrisome!]
We can always test it out after you put it back together. Are you in the market for a new tattoo, by chance?
One: absolutely not! [ He's so cheerful about that. ]
Two: if you've broken something, I'm certain it will be obvious as I'm putting it back together. In which case I'll need to take the pieces back to the house to fix them properly.
As of right now? Not at all. Would you trust my ability to create an automaton capable of performing surgery?
[ As much as Declan has confidence in his skills, that particular piece of his supposed life here is way out of his wheelhouse, at least for now. He wants to remember more of that stuff, but it only seems to come to him a bit at a time.
Anyway, all this is being said as he’s tinkering away, and eventually he lifts the tattoo gun, whole once again. ]
no subject
[ Is he going to elaborate on that? Maybe not. ]
I don't suppose this food you ordered came with one of those delightfully fizzy drinks in a can, did it?
no subject
Of reading long passages aloud?
[But he’s setting his empty takeout box aside and rising to his feet whether or not he receives an answer in the process. He won’t take his cane, because this isn’t a long trip—]
No need. There’s a fridge in the back full of “fizzy drinks.” I’ll fetch something for us.
no subject
[ So, in this, they share the same opinion. Never underestimate the importance of something small. ]
Oh, that would be wonderful! Thank you!
no subject
Or maybe I just like impressing others with 132 lines of poetry read aloud.
[He smirks. But then he disappears into the back.
Then he returns, two soda cans in-hand.]
Do you prefer... [Squints. Wry:] "Orange 'n Cream" or "Artificially Flavored Grape"?
no subject
[ Says Declan "eidetic memory" Steelsong. He tugs the goggles back down over his face to resume the process of putting the tattoo gun back together. There's a bit more finesse required here so it's slower going.
When V comes back, he's once again treated to the sight of Declan's cartoonishly giant eyes lifting his way. ]
I am deeply intrigued by the phrase "Artificially Flavored Grape".
no subject
...You're a brave soul.
[He sets it down next to him.]
Purple calls to you.
[It matchies Declan, right-]
no subject
[ And yes, Declan's outfit for the day is indeed quite purple. He flashes a grin, snapping his fingers as if to produce some spark of magic. Of course, it doesn't work, so he waves it off and plucks up the can instead. ]
Well, of course it does. It brings out my eyes.
[ His eyes which are still cartoonishly huge. He's having a real Mister Magoo moment over here. ]
no subject
Looks like someone expected some magic to spark to life — that’s going to be a difficult habit to break, he muses.
But YOUR EYES, SIR—]
Your eyes which are as big as a saucer plate? Which exude the color of… artificially flavored grape? Oh, I rhymed.
no subject
Look at you. All that poetry is really going to your head.
[ Another grin. He cracks the can open, bringing it to his lips for a taste. He considers it a moment, tilting his head. Another sip seems to be in order, and so he repeats the process again, this time with a bonus smacking of his lips, like that will somehow help him figure out how he feels. ]
Wow. You can really taste the “artificial” part. But I don’t hate it.
no subject
V crosses back over to his chair, sitting and popping off the tab of his soda. The can hisses in protest.]
It's nothing but sugar that'll rot your teeth.
[And he takes a sip. His mouth twists a little; oh yes, that's very artificial. But it's better than some things he's had.]
But I don't hate it, either.
no subject
To trying new things!
no subject
You- [wheeze] -really need to take those off while we're talking, Declan.
no subject
He just looks right at V, with those giant, magnified eyes. And slowly goes cross-eyed. ]
no subject
You look... [hhhelp] -ridiculous.
no subject
Why, I have no idea what you're talking about, V!
no subject
Laughs, a low-sounding but sincerely amused thing. Finally:]
I think you do.
no subject
Maybe.
[ He offers a cheeky grin, lifting his soda can again. ]
Cheers?
no subject
V lets his laughter trail away, clearing his throat.]
Cheers, I suppose.
[Raises his... soda can.]
To new things.
no subject
Mm. Yep, still don't hate it!
[ And now it's back to work! He tugs his goggles down again and resumes his task of piecing the tattoo gun back together. While he doesn't work nearly as quickly as he did while taking it apart, it's clear he's going to have it back in working order in no time. ]
Do you have any idea if you might have broken something when taking the other one apart?
no subject
I'm not sure. I was careful, and I don't think I lost any pieces in the process. But...
[He smirks again. Worrisome!]
We can always test it out after you put it back together. Are you in the market for a new tattoo, by chance?
[This is a joke (probably.)]
no subject
Two: if you've broken something, I'm certain it will be obvious as I'm putting it back together. In which case I'll need to take the pieces back to the house to fix them properly.
no subject
And why not? Don't you trust my talent?
[HE SHOULDN'T]
But of course. Do what you must. A lot of good it would do for me to deny you.
[He'd just be left with a broken tattoo gun.]
no subject
[ As much as Declan has confidence in his skills, that particular piece of his supposed life here is way out of his wheelhouse, at least for now. He wants to remember more of that stuff, but it only seems to come to him a bit at a time.
Anyway, all this is being said as he’s tinkering away, and eventually he lifts the tattoo gun, whole once again. ]
Ah-ha! I believe I’ve done it!
no subject
[Maybe don’t practice on actual people just yet, V.
But he blinks when Declan triumphantly holds the tattoo gun up.]
It looks like you have. Whole again. [Pretty impressive, all said.] I hope you’re able to provide a repeat performance.
no subject
[ Artificial skin? FRUITS??? ]
I feel confident in my ability to do this again. You know, provided you haven't broken anything.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)