Cooper ●● (kinetix) wrote in gen_m_logs, @ 2008-05-10 23:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | cooper baldwin, john summers |
Log: Cooper & John
Who: Cooper & John
Where: Outside
When: Saturday. May 10
What: Hi. It's drunk Cooper kind of outing himself with a lost-in-time John. They share a haircut. It's cool.
Late at night, John liked to take a walk around the grounds. Part of it was old habits dying hard; taking in the perimeter was just one of those things you did in war-torn apocalyptic futures. The Academy was big enough that it took a good amount of time but it was a well-established route from building to building, from tree to tree, from wall to wall. At the end of it he John could step back and take it all in. Which was the other part of the need to walk.
Someday, all of this would be dust. Nothing but ruins and memories and memorials. It was like going to see the Colosseum and knowing that long ago, they killed lions here.
As he walked the school grounds, John had a javelin over his shoulder, the tip pointed past his head and his hand on the still-warm grip. He also had a snub-nosed rifle and an energy pistol, but the javelin was for show. It's not that he expected trouble, but hey! Never hurt to be prepared.
"YO HO AND A BOTTLE OF RUM!" Cooper shouted into the night air, not carrying who heard him. His mother was a library tech, his father was some crazy guy. What did he have to worry about? Things had been slow. After saving Jimmy's ass during the competition, the bruise still hadn't healed. Bare-chested, Cooper kept his kinetic field up, not feeling the cold as the micro....whatevers rolled over his chest and stomach. The field popped open, at his mouth, accepting the bottle and taking several deep gulps. If the old people could have a party with drinks and sheets and whatever, Cooper was going to have a party...a party of one.
Glancing over, he saw someone appear with what looked like a spear over his shoulder. "The Olympics are a long wayaway," he slurred, motioning with the bottle to the weapon. "I come in peace...or pieces...don't chop me in to pieces."
John was long past being startled and simply smirked at the sight of one of the students enjoying the hell out of himself. "Well, that all depends if you know tonight's watchword," he replied, looking over the kid. "How you feeling there, guy?"
"Oh, I'm guuuuuuuuud," Cooper drawled, not sure what a watchword was. "I'm Cooper Baldwin, son of Speedball, son of Librarian. I figure if the fogeys can have a night to drink, so should others. Gorgeous night, innit it?" He held the bottle out. "No herpes or cooterbugs....care for a drink?" Drunkenness loved company, as it were. "You're that dude. With the stuff." Because that helped Coop know the score.
John slowly reached out and plucked the offered bottle. "Don't mind if I do." A couple sniffs, John took the time to read the label as a lot of things from the past didn't exactly survive the future. Like ... 'cooterbugs'. "I am that dude with the stuff," he agrees. "And it is a fine night. You sure you're up to standing around or ... possibly breathing? You sound a little slurry there, soldier."
"Slurry and standing are two different things. Things...wings....shit, I want some buffalo wild wings. Extra spicy...or whatever they call it now." Cooper gave the bottle up willingly. His hand slumped over his knees, the joint of his forearms resting over them finally. Fingers wound together. "I'm not up for fighting. Everyone who has any real power or whatever is in the party. Party hardy. But without me...or you, I guess." Cooper cocked his head a bit, looking at the other in the pale moonlight. "So...buzzed head working for you?" His own hand moved up, scruffing at his fuzzed head before his hand fell down. "Uh...futureman...we're not related...are we?" How weird would it be to have a son?
John takes a swallow and judges it fair to middling. He's slowly learning he's a 'beer' kind of guy. What will the past think up next?
Taking the javelin off his shoulder, he sets the butt of it into the ground and leans on it in a casual fashion. "Looks like you're sort of having a party out here by yourself," he notes. "And we are most definitely not related. I keep pretty quick track of that." Looking up for a moment, he notes, "As far as I know, I have no idea who you possibly could be. Rest easy."
"Well good. The last thing I expected was having a kid." Cooper reached out, grabbing the bottle and bringing it to his lips. A single gulp and he let it swing back and forth between his legs. "Why're you carrying a javelin of all things? It's pretty much a useless weapon nowadays. I mean, especially around here." As if he needed to, Cooper formulated a pod and let it strike against the ground, hitting off a rock and then bouncing up into the trees. "Don't make me do that again." Because...wow, whoozy.
John watched the bottle leave his hand, giving up on getting it back. It's not like there were liquor laws where he was from. "I will have you know there is no such thing as a useless weapon," he notes, handing over the javelin. It might just keep him standing. "Try it, you might like it."
A groan left Cooper's lips as he managed to pull himself up. Rolling his eyes, Cooper took the javelin and weihed it in his hand, tossing it up and letting it fall back down in his palm. "I mean...serious. If I were gonna gut a couple hundred people, I would be cool with it, but...that's not the way things go." Taking a step back and then two steps forward, Cooper's natural ability to find a target coupled with his kinetic field sent the javelin flying, straight and clear. He waited a moment until it jutted into the ground. "So now that that's gone, what else you got?" He took a swig of the bottle and slumped back down, very happy with the dirt rubbing into his jeans.
John was suitably impressed with the kid's aim. Filing that away, he reached behind him, fingers touching the fabric of space and time and tugging, pulling out a short spear from ancient times. "This is an odd time for target practice, but why the hell not, right?" He hands over the spear.
"Dude, I am so not ready fr target practice. A rock is a rock. But a fucking....Christ spear?" Cooper had no idea what it was, so he was guessing, "If you put that shit in my ribs, you will have a very angry Missus Dew Decimal System on you." He had just seen the movie Constantine and it had freaked him out enough. "I'm a nobody. Yummy yummy drink. Not nobody." Coop took another swig, his eyes rolling just a bit as he signed and set the bottle into the ground, making a little notch there. "So...ladies hot in the future?" He was running out of things to say.
John just laughed and shook his head. "Look, guy. Why don't you just head on inside and ... I don't know. Try and clear your head." The spear was light-fingered out of Cooper's grasp and dumped over John's shoulder, letting it slip back into its own timeline. He had the sneaking suspicion he'd need two hands for this guy. "And yes," he answers with patience, "ladies are still hot in the future." Man, did his dad have to deal with this? He should have gotten some more specific advice here...
"Yeah...ladies...still hot." Cooper shrugged and rolled his eyes a bit. Why not come out to a total stranger? What else did he have at the school? "Oh, clear head have I. Yoda's totally speaking through me. Do you think Yoda's real and that dude had precog or what?" The spear going away was a Good Thing. "And it's a nice night. Smells like rain though." And it did! Cooper had always been good at telling when it would rain. Maybe it was heightened senses or latent weather control from his mom. He didn't know. "The rain won't hit me....but lemme ask you an...ask." Because that made sense! "Ever felt the rain? Real rain? Rain like....holy shit it's gonna tear the skin from my body rain? That's the best kind of rain. With thunder and lightning and.....rain. I like the rain."
John nods along with him despite nearly every other word going right over his head. Yoda? Who the hell was Yoda? It was like this kid had a head wound... and what do we do with people who have a head wound? We get 'em inside, lying down and out of duress. Cooper seemed like he was ramping himself up. "Yeah, been in some pretty heavy weather some times. Let's get on inside, whaddya say?" Jhn took a step towards the door and waited to see if he would follow.
"Like I said, I won't feel the rain. Or the cold. I'm touchless. Because well, nothing can touch me if I don't want it to." Cooper looked up at the sky and finally finished the bottle. Tossing it away from them, he shot a pod out, missing the bottle, but the second one hit it straight on. "HA!" He shouted, clapping his hands before they fell back down to the ground. "Well, you can't stay with me because Jay would be all 'Another man?' He's kind of the mom of the two of us, but that's just because I lie and say he does the laundry wrong. Okay lessgo." Cooper tried to get up but fell back down. "Gotta help me up, and I hope Benjy dunnit fall on that glass. He made a fuss last time."
John watches the slow descent of Cooper Baldwin as he blasts a bottle and continues his rambling. When the poor guy slips to the ground, John's already there to haul him up by his arm if he can get ahold of... something. "Arm around the shoulders, easy guy. Don't sweat the glass."
"Don't grab my junk...I'm drunk. No junk when drunk. I need to start a march. A thousand man march." But he kind of wished John would grab his junk. Because well...John was kind of hot. Hefting himself up, Cooper let his arm laze about John's chest. "Glass is glass. I'll be sure to pick it up tomorrow." Even though Coop was pretty sure he'd forget about it before then. "TOGA! TOGA!" He started chanting, thrusting his free arm into the air in defiance.