[ foster guardians. it sticks out to him, little pieces that come together to fit the bigger picture. but he pushes it away; he's not trying to figure out tetora. not right now when they've just met. david doesn't think it's in his place to. ]
My daughter, Leo She really likes music too. Dancing. Don't know what she wants to do with it when she gets older, but she likes tinkering with things Seeing how things work I think she might be into that
[ he's probably said too much but it's too late. anyway, ]
i had a sister. she liked singing. she was shot in the head while comatose from an accident.
[ the many versions of her always did. even miwa had a penchant for music, but she kept her voice to herself, for the same reason tetora doesn't sing - they make for a killer track every time. (he realizes, belatedly, that the little crumbs he's throwing out can paint a pretty dire picture of who and what he is, but the truth is darker than what imagination can come up with, for once; tetora's fine with being boxed into a frame, this once.) ]
text me when you're at the shutters; i'll let you in.
[ it's definitely getting there, and a big part of david can't even really begin to wrap his mind around it. he's seen things, horrible and terrible things that have changed his life, that have made him do things that he still regrets even today. this is different, and he's not entirely sure what he can really do to make things better (if it's even in his place to try to do so), but what he does know is that he can't leave tetora alone. he isn't able to, and even if it's not in his place, he's going to try anyway.
so he swallows down the i'm sorry and keeps moving forward instead. ]
I'm here.
[ when tetora sees him, david will be there with his laptop under his arm, holding his device and a tin of hot coffee. there's a pack slung over one bony shoulder that he borrowed from frank, stuffed with cloth and mats, extra materials he had leftover from when he soundproofed the rest of the clinic. there's also two hotdogs, one for his lunch and the other for tetora, if he wants. ]
Edited (i forgot why he went in the first place akjsddf) 2018-03-01 01:15 (UTC)
[ the smell of hotdogs is a lot like the smell of cigarettes - permeating, distinct, and eye-watering. tetora stares for longer than might be polite at the man with hotdogs, a tin, and a sack standing in front of the open shutters, before ushering him in with a quick nod.
when the shutters are completely pulled shut, tetora reaches out to micro's arm and taps in morse: ]
welcome to my room tadaa
[ it's sparse; all of the noisemaker items have been stripped from it, exposing the wiring and the unpainted patches where metal and plastic used to be. in one corner is a wicker basket with arm-length pieces of metal, rubber, and pvc, the whole thing padded with the bed's short sheet at the bottom to keep it from rattling.
three guesses as to what those pieces are for. ]
the shutters need soundproofing first you cool with that ?
[ the morse code is familiar and david cracks a smile, shaking his head. he doesn't really look around because there's not much to see anyway, and david's not exactly here to analyze tetora's living arrangements. ]
Yeah I can work with that.
[ he sets his things to the side, pulling out the muslin and mats from his pack and starts doing his thing. since he soundproofed akira's clinic and has begun the process of soundproofing all of house six, the whole process actually has started to feel therapeutic. it helps that there's no added pressure of keeping his best friend tied up, but details. ]
[ getting to work is easy, after they get settled in. it takes all of a few minutes before they're falling into rhythm, oiling rusted-over hinges and padding the edges with stuffing. sealing the corners up to keep the wind from whistling in. little tasks that would normally be tedious take on a different atmosphere, and tetora would be loathe to admit it, but he likes it. this. the whole process of sealing up a room like they're shutting out the rest of the world in the process.
after a while, they take a break. tetora's breathing is pleasantly ragged, a pale sheen of sweat covering his skin. they've worked in utter silence for what felt like minutes, but turned out to be longer. time runs faster when you're moving slowly, it turns out. ]
i'm worried about acoustics, [ he taps out on the floor. ] ceiling's too high, gonna have to insulate.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
i was, kinda.
i spent a lot of time in livehouses before coming here, and music's a big thing with my foster guardians.
[ that's the highly sanitized version of things. tetora's not ready to talk about the unholy convoluted mess that is the truth yet. ]
i'm nineteen. pretend i'm aiming fingerguns at you.
no subject
My daughter, Leo
She really likes music too. Dancing.
Don't know what she wants to do with it when she gets older, but she likes tinkering with things
Seeing how things work
I think she might be into that
[ he's probably said too much but it's too late. anyway, ]
Coming up on your place now
no subject
she was shot in the head while comatose from an accident.
[ the many versions of her always did. even miwa had a penchant for music, but she kept her voice to herself, for the same reason tetora doesn't sing - they make for a killer track every time. (he realizes, belatedly, that the little crumbs he's throwing out can paint a pretty dire picture of who and what he is, but the truth is darker than what imagination can come up with, for once; tetora's fine with being boxed into a frame, this once.) ]
text me when you're at the shutters; i'll let you in.
no subject
so he swallows down the i'm sorry and keeps moving forward instead. ]
I'm here.
[ when tetora sees him, david will be there with his laptop under his arm, holding his device and a tin of hot coffee. there's a pack slung over one bony shoulder that he borrowed from frank, stuffed with cloth and mats, extra materials he had leftover from when he soundproofed the rest of the clinic. there's also two hotdogs, one for his lunch and the other for tetora, if he wants. ]
no subject
when the shutters are completely pulled shut, tetora reaches out to micro's arm and taps in morse: ]
welcome to my room
tadaa
[ it's sparse; all of the noisemaker items have been stripped from it, exposing the wiring and the unpainted patches where metal and plastic used to be. in one corner is a wicker basket with arm-length pieces of metal, rubber, and pvc, the whole thing padded with the bed's short sheet at the bottom to keep it from rattling.
three guesses as to what those pieces are for. ]
the shutters need soundproofing first
you cool with that ?
no subject
Yeah I can work with that.
[ he sets his things to the side, pulling out the muslin and mats from his pack and starts doing his thing. since he soundproofed akira's clinic and has begun the process of soundproofing all of house six, the whole process actually has started to feel therapeutic. it helps that there's no added pressure of keeping his best friend tied up, but details. ]
time jump ahoy
after a while, they take a break. tetora's breathing is pleasantly ragged, a pale sheen of sweat covering his skin. they've worked in utter silence for what felt like minutes, but turned out to be longer. time runs faster when you're moving slowly, it turns out. ]
i'm worried about acoustics, [ he taps out on the floor. ] ceiling's too high, gonna have to insulate.
how's hotdog?