agnominal | IC Inbox

"Weirder than usual." Which is pretty damn relative. But- he's not wrong. It's good to see North, even if it was in medical and all cut up and that brought up all kinds of old memories he'd rather not look at too hard. "WE tried to keep in touch while on the run but- you know. On the run. And I've missed him but-"

Trusting this- trusting it's okay to trust this? Taylor shakes his head, setting his guitar aside in favor of scooping Luna up for the moment. "It's the kinda thing I'd make up to make this place more familiar or better or whatever."

"...what would help?" He's not sure if he needs to be convinced that yes, it is really, or if he simply needs space from the new information in order to process it. Locus considers his own tactics, but...

Generally, both imagined and real, he tends to ignore Felix. And Wu hasn't crossed his mind in a long, long time, not in the ways he used to. Back when he still served as something of a conscience. Before Felix got more convincing.

He reaches to rub at the scruff of his chin, eyes drifting to the kitten, who flops and rolls in York's hands.

"Being here usually does it." Take that as you will, Locus. That he's become Taylor's safe haven when his head shoves everything into the thoroughly unreal category? Probably says something about trust or whatever but he's alright for now.

With great care (cuz she is tiny and adorable and not his) Taylor teases Luna's paws and belly, smiling faintly at her antics.

"I mean if shit hurts it's probably real but I don't want a black eye. Maybe physical contact?" Which Locus is usually touchy about (ha).

Locus appears to consider this with grave intent, brow furrowing. Finally, when it seems he's decided on a course of action, he shifts closer. Closer, until his shoulder brushes against Taylor, and for anyone else it'd be casual. Where Locus is concerned? The effort is painfully obvious.

Look, this is all very new to him.

It's the tiniest thing, the steady brush of Locus' shoulder against his- but he's trying. He's initiating. He's being supportive and that's reason enough for Taylor to tip over that last little bit and lean properly, tension winding out little by little.

This is real. He is here. Locus is here. Luna is fucking adorable. "...Thanks."

It's not so different from the way York had leaned against him during movie night, all that time past, and it's not uncomfortable in the way it might be with anyone he didn't know. York was safe and trusted, and this was something that would help him. So, it seemed fitting to offer.

Still, some of the tension in his own frame releases as York relaxes, eyes falling to the kitten, who is now grooming the pads of York's fingers.

"She's quite fastidious, for a kitten."

"Oh yeah. She'll be grooming your eyebrows if you let her." Cats do that, right? Right. He turns his fingers around, giving her as much or as little to play or groom as she likes. It's hard to hold onto how the world goes sideways and wrong in his head when he's got a fuzzball in his lap being adorable and a solid presence to his right saying this is real.

Or. Well. Implying, but the implying for him is enough right now.

He's more fragile than he first appears. But they've been battered and broken by the world in more ways than one. He endures, if not in his world than in this one, and Locus would do most anything to see that continue. They are, after all, friends.

No further examination needed.

Humming in agreement, he lets his arm shift, letting York settle in a little further before carefully curling his arm. Is this right? This seems like it should be right.

"She is not as invasive as I first feared, fortunately."

"Cats are pretty self reliant- you might wanna start setting up things for her to sleep on or climb on." Bring a little life to this rather...spartan space.

Locus is allowed creature comforts too. Without thought Taylor lets his head tip to the side, resting his cheek against Locus' shoulder.

This is admittedly rather nice, Locus thinks as he settles in. There's no way to say as much without sounding completely foolish, but there's some merit to the idea of human contact being something one needs, now and then. This is comfortable.

Comfort will do. He doesn't need more than that.

"You're familiar with owning cats?" One thick eyebrow crooks higher.

"My mom had a few. Easier to train than a kid." Not that it stopped her from trying. He was as stubborn as her and twice as willing to be absurd, so that was in his favor. Still, it's a little relevant and a lot pleasant-

Even if he can feel the look Locus is giving him. "I remember some things. For specifics you're probably better off talking to Wash, he knows his shit."

"Hn." Not something he wants to do if he can help it, even if most of the true animosity there is gone. Knowing where he stands with all of them? That helps matters considerably. "I've never heard of cats being easy to train. Quite the opposite."

Though it had been a while since he'd actually seen one, outside of some starved feral out in the streets. Cats...hadn't lasted long on Chorus.

"You didn't know me as a kid. I was a right terror." Smart and full of too much energy and too quiet or too loud- it'd been.

A thing.

Now he's moderately better with some sort of focus and a tendency for introspective self analysis. "Luna, though- lovely lady luna~" Singing again, because he can't not, toying with the pads of her feet, booping her nose. "Seems like a proper lady."

She chirrups at him, a squeaky sound for as tiny as she is, but she allows him to play with her footpads. She's considerably calmer, it's true, and gentle even when those tiny little feet flex and show off her needle-like claws.

"She's very affectionate. She has a cat bed, but prefers to sleep in the crook of my arm." Which...could be bad. Considering he has nightmares on a fairly regular basis. But she's quick as well.

He just hopes he doesn't frighten her too badly.

"Well- you're big and warm and smell nice to her?" Probably. "Also you got that deep meaty heartbeat going on so that makes her feel comfortable and safe. Probably sees you as a mother figure."

Cats don't really do co-parenting with fathers, he thinks. It's usually just the mother taking care of things.

He says, while leaning into Locus, himself.

Locus looks doubtful at this, but he doesn't have enough experience with cats to argue. "It's...odd. Having something that requires looking after."

He doesn't protect. He hasn't. But it seems like some facet of that is starting to shift. It's in the way he takes to the cat, the way he tries to accommodate York when he's obviously enduring some manner of distress.

This...could be something he does.

"Reminds you to take care of yourself, right? Having to take care of her." Can't ignore his physical needs when he's got to keep an eye on what Luna requires. Can't really lock himself up in his head and brood when she's all affectionate and pleasant.

And now York's got a perfect excuse to come over- not that he needed one. Simply hanging around is just what he does.

"She likes you plenty though- don't you little lady?"

"She seems to like everyone," Locus points out readily, and it's true. She seems taken with York, flopping around in his lap as he pets her before stretching almost daintily and resettling herself, purring all the while.

He seems to attract these social creatures to him. Somehow.

"She hasn't learned to be particular yet, huh? Gracious little lady deigning to allow us the pleasure of her company." Her adorable company- he loses a little time rubbing her soft fur, feeling the rumble of her purr, the burring counterpoint that is Locus' voice.

This is real. This is solid. It's starting to stick more and more but-

"...do me a favor?" It's stupid, he knows it's stupid, enough so that he's not looking up at Locus when he asks. "Can you just- say that this is real? Out loud?"

"Taylor."

Locus's heavy brows furrow as he draws back slightly, just enough to look down at him, expression solemn, those pale eyes intent.

"This is real."

It's not foolish if that's what he requires. They're all a little messed up, in need of something or another that makes them feel weak or silly. But having people you trust means trusting them to give you what you need.

He'd thought all the tension was gone. That he didn't have anything left locked tight in quiet existential dread, that he was settled. Four words and he's proven wrong, some sort of half held breath and fried wiring in his spine going cool and calm.

This is real. Locus is real. This kitten is real.

"...thanks."

It's tentative, his peering up. "Really. Thanks."

Locus just continues to stare down at him, some mixture of uncertainty and lingering concern muddling in his expression. There ought to be more he can do. But this seems to be enough for York to go completely at ease.

He accomplished that. What a strange thought.

"...of course," he finally responds, averting his gaze once again.

Now he feels grounded. Settled. More in his skin and more sure that this is actually happening and North is actually here and god that's gonna get complicated in short order.

"...I should introduce y'all." A beat. "You and North, I mean. You've got similar skillsets and he'd probably like talking shop with someone that understands the whole 'sit still for fucking ever for one shot' thing."

"Your best friend, you said."

Which is fine. Everyone is bound to have one, obviously. And if York is still coming here then it's unreasonable to assume he will cease because he has his best friend back.

He lets his hand stroke idle lines down Luna's back as she drapes herself over York's lap, legs stretched out in front of her and blue eyes closing sleepily.

"Five years ago when shit was very different. I don't know how we'll fit, now. Too many variables have changed on my end, I don't know how that'll sit in the overall equation." An odd way to frame it but- Locus gets how he sees the world now. Not much to worry about there.

"I'm gonna have to relearn how to hang out with him without letting baggage from the Project get in the way."

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