ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ (beepbeep) wrote in evaluation, @ 2020-01-27 10:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | !the compound: 1: day 2, it: chapter two: richie tozier, original characters: roman ka'uhane |
Who: Richie & Roman
What: Roman tries to flirt with a hot person and literally runs into Richie (not hot person)
When: After this
Where: Red Block
Warnings: No!
Status: Complete
After having had his drink with John and checking in with Luke to reassure himself that the other man was okay as it wasn’t like he’d had a good track since Roman had arrived in wherever the fuck this was the dragon figured he’d head back to his own block. Possibly to sleep after the amount he’d eaten or work out, he hadn’t decided. A little distracted by an attractive brunette who had passed him with a flirtatious smile Roman accidentally bumped into somebody who was tall and lanky which meant they had further to fall should they be overbalanced by the much larger man. “Shit,” he rumbled as quick reflexes kicked in and he immediately caught his unfortunate victim before they hit the ground. “I totally wasn’t looking where I was going.” An apologetic smile was offered which was both boyish and charming, hopefully hard to stay mad at it? Alas. That moment of heart eyes between the sturdily built brick shithouse who just plowed into him (not like that) and the attractive brunette with the coy smile, all cherry stem tricks done in a bar, was ruined because of the (not attractive brunette?) tall, lanky nerd named Richie - which, you know. Womp. It happened. “Shit - “ The word bore repeating, apparently, as he was manhandled by a stranger. “Yeah, it’s fine.” He found his bearings, at least, adjusting glasses which had gone askew, dusting off his t-shirt which was apparently styled to match his block - stupid, if you asked him, but no one ever did. “I think we’ve all got bigger fish to fry.” Didn’t they always? He squinted bluejay eyes, assessing the guy. “You’re...kind of new?” Richie guessed. “I don’t think we’ve met.” Roman didn’t let go until he was certain the brunette was steady on his two feet and once he did, he folded his arms across his chest, fingers curling around heavily tattooed forearms. “Sorta new,” he said with a nod. “I dropped in towards the end of the Russsian Christmas land thing.” And nope they had not met. “Roman,” he said with a smile as he offered a hand to the other. “And no, definitely not met, but making up for lost time.” “Oh, right. That bullshit. I was sick or in prison most of the time there,” Richie replied, clasping the man’s hand in a shake. “Kinda hard to meet people.” And then their corner of snowy Christmas hell had been overrun by goat demons and, well, after that? Who the fuck cared about anything besides making it through the night? But things were different now. They were still trapped, still answering to the Powers-That-Be, still utterly clueless about who brought them to be a part of this experiment and why. At least they weren’t starving anymore, even if they were locked in a weird compound and given stupid assignments like sorting themselves into blocks. It just seemed like shit to divide them further, and he was over it. “Richie Tozier,” he introduced himself. “Guess we gotta become best friends now, since you bumped into me. Must be fate.” “Heh, guess so,” Roman echoed with a much larger smile if that was even possible. “And it’s definitely not easy to meet people especially when the assholes running this place basically lock you in your room or block like some sorta misbehaving children.” He shook his head. “It’s fucked up.” And it was, no point sugarcoating the truth. “And you’re sure I didn’t hurt you anything?” Damn straight it was fucked up. Richie agreed with that wholeheartedly. “I’ve been around since the beginning, when we appeared in a haunted house,” he shrugged. “About ninety percent of it has been weird as hell and wholly unpleasant. “ Starting with the candy bedroom and onward, though he had John - and honestly, he wouldn’t trade that for anything. So there was some good to it. “And hah, I’m fine,” he waved off any notion that he was hurt. “I’m tougher than I look.” It was true - he may not be a bodybuilder (or on Roman’s level of rippling muscles, goddamn) but he was built to be tall and broad-shouldered, thanks to those lumberjack genetics. Yeah, he ended up a little lanky, but what could you do. “Do you drink? We could grab one sometime. I’m not too bruised to enjoy alcohol.” Roman beamed a second or so later, full and broad, the ever so slight sharper than normal canines present and he reached out to give Richie’s shoulder a firm pat. “Oh, I drink. I drink plenty.” The same way he did everything else. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a sports bar here, met somebody else I’d been talking to over the network for a drink, but I’m never going to turn down the offer of another drink with company.” The one good thing about their block - yep, there was a bar, like something legit and not just serving wine. Richie hadn’t tried it out yet, but he’d been preoccupied with the other fuckery that seemed to run rampant in these particular quarters. Like coming up with a block name, but apparently they couldn’t even do that without tumbling down into idiocy. “Did you meet John?” was the question, because he just had a feeling. “He’s mine. I mean, my - partner.” That sounded better than person or boyfriend; sometimes he went with boyfriend, but generally thought he was too old to use that word, yikes. “But yeah, let’s go. I need to try out the liquor on this block anyway.” Hopefully it didn’t suck, like everything else related to the people. Roman lifted an eyebrow at the use of mine in regards to one John Constantine. Richie didn’t give off the air of a dragon and he definitely didn’t smell like one but that was definitely a term that a dragon would use to describe somebody they considered part of their hoard. Otherwise Roman knew from experience it wasn’t really a socially acceptable term because people didn’t belong to anyone, apparently. “Yeah, that’s him,” he said with a nod. Roman might have considered moving blocks, to be close to Luke, and the people he was getting to know but he had a thing about following a block who chose their leader via knife fight. “I can always stand to drink more.” And with that he nudged Richie, playfully mind, and led the way back to the bar he’d left. |