[ chuck tugs them on half to have something to do. a place to turn his attention, something tangible (safe, neutral) to focus on. it's always been in his nature to turn outward- avoid introspection at every possible turn, and this isn't any different. chuck won't let it be any different. ]
[ There's a moment when Mako simply looks over at Chuck and glares at him, glares as if he's broken some cardinal rule to the limits of the conversation. Not that Mako should be surprised, that was what Chuck did after all. He look the carefully constructed confines of things and then proceeded to unapologetically break them down, one by one by one.
[ the divide comes in the lessons they've been taught. words about propriety and decorum and discretion. where mori learned respect, chuck chose brashness. avoiding me? she fires back, and while chuck's gaze cuts sharply to her features (it isn't like her, to cut to the chase) he doesn't flinch from the accusation. ]
[ They glare at one another for a moment, their behavior teetering between angry children and a couple of brawlers about to break out into a fistfight. Chuck has always had that effect on Mako, even when they were still young. Over the years she'd learned how to curb the impulse, how to take that frustration and turn it into focus for other things, but the previous week still lingers, running her ragged and making her tired. ]
You'll get over it, [ she says and then moves past to reach for a large bit of debris just beyond him. ]
[ chuck sets himself to the first available task- one that will expend enough energy that it'll feel like hitting something, one that puts him out of arm's reach, and one that keeps him in earshot. it isn't really a wall that stares back at him so much as the remains of one. weathered by the elements as much as by age. chuck smashes it's fractured surface on a handful of times with the blunt end of his hammer, and starts pulling it down by hand. whatever it might mean that he and mori spend their spare time comfortable in a city of rubble (in the ruins of what was) chuck resolutely declines to ask. ]
[ She'd assumed that conversation was over already and that the first swing of Chuck's hammer would welcome a period of drowned-out silence between the both of them. Which was fine with Mako — she wasn't expecting any more from him — so that he says something at all once a plume of plaster dust settles takes her by surprise enough to stare at him for a long moment.
She could not answer, could let her gaze do the talking. Mako wonders if being together makes Chuck that uncomfortable, that it would wring something out of him when he might otherwise have remained stubbornly silent. ]
Because we're not going to talk about it. [ That's how things were between them, weren't they? Mako straightens, tosses a half-rotted beam into the junk pile and places her hands on her hips. ] Unless we are.
[ It doesn't sound like an offer, but it is one (even if Mako isn't sure we wants to talk about it either). ]
[ the sound that pulls through his teeth isn't a true laugh, but it's more than the rush of breath that usually leaves his mouth. it's sharp, but not biting. mean, but not cruel. chuck has never had the foresight, the intention to leave lasting damage because he exists only in the moment- for everyone except his father.
his head shakes, and a piece of plaster comes down- casting a rush of dust over his hair. in the fragmented light, it's a mockery of a halo. ] I'm the lesser 'a two evils then.
[ Something stirs uncomfortably inside Mako, a feeling that is as familiar as it is unwelcome. Ever since they were young Chuck has had this effect on her — ruffling feathers that she's gone to great lengths to smooth, finding a way in through the seams of her self-control only to make her skin itch underneath her best defenses. Ever since Onibaba Mako Mori has spent every moment of her life trying to contain the fear and the anger unleashed in that single moment; contain it and change it, make it fuel for a more important fire, but whenever she's around Chuck all she wants to do is burn.
She blinks at him once. Of course the one time he wants to talk is the one conversation she doesn't want to have.
If he was more self-aware Mako would think he was doing it on purpose, but she knows Chuck. Why take potshots at unblemished skin when you can swipe at a bruise. ]
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( v i : d 3 ) action
Avoiding Becket?
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He asks about Becket. She returns the favor. ]
Avoiding me?
( v i : d 3 ) action
Not well 'nough.
( v i : d 3 ) action
You'll get over it, [ she says and then moves past to reach for a large bit of debris just beyond him. ]
( v i : d 3 ) action
Why aren't you avoiding me.
( v i : d 3 ) action
She could not answer, could let her gaze do the talking. Mako wonders if being together makes Chuck that uncomfortable, that it would wring something out of him when he might otherwise have remained stubbornly silent. ]
Because we're not going to talk about it. [ That's how things were between them, weren't they? Mako straightens, tosses a half-rotted beam into the junk pile and places her hands on her hips. ] Unless we are.
[ It doesn't sound like an offer, but it is one (even if Mako isn't sure we wants to talk about it either). ]
( v i : d 3 ) action
his head shakes, and a piece of plaster comes down- casting a rush of dust over his hair. in the fragmented light, it's a mockery of a halo. ] I'm the lesser 'a two evils then.
'At's new.
( v i : d 3 ) action
She blinks at him once. Of course the one time he wants to talk is the one conversation she doesn't want to have.
If he was more self-aware Mako would think he was doing it on purpose, but she knows Chuck. Why take potshots at unblemished skin when you can swipe at a bruise. ]
Just swing your hammer, Chuck.