max yorke just wants to go home (capgrased) wrote in mnhttnprjct, @ 2010-06-08 01:46:00 |
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MAX: When the first noise awoke him, Max didn't think much of it, probably because his windows were open and sometimes the neighbor's cat liked to invite itself inside to take a nap. So he closed his eyes and tried to fall back asleep for another hour or two until he had to get up for work. It was about a minute later an other noise came and this time it sounded like a pan falling on the floor. Immediately, he sat up in bed as panic came over him. There was someone in the flat. Oh fuck. He was being robbed. Shit! He had music out there and such! Fuck. By the time the third noise came, he had slid out of back and grabbed the baseball bat that was propped against his dresser in the small room just for this occasion. Max then slowly pushed his bedroom door open and started to creep into the living room, apparently not caring that he was in nothing but some boxers and a t-shirt. The robber was more important at the moment. After about thirty seconds, he finally made it to the entrance of the kitchen, the noises of someone putzing around obvious now. So Max took a deep breath, turned the corner with some sort of scream/growl, and gave the bat a good swing. NOAH: Look, his best friend hasn't bothered to call or message or even send a pigeon to his home to alert him of his health. When the damn Irish guy who had a thing~ for Max got a hold of him, Noah did his duty as a biffle and played wing-man but cautiously. Also, this was not personal touch, he didn't know if he really intended to rape him or not. So he had to do what he did: find Max's spare keys, cut across town to another district, avoid getting mugged per usual and climb a couple flights of stairs until he got in. In all, it didn't take long. The view inside the apartment was dark and a little tired, Noah was clumsy as he made his way into the kitchen, hands running along counter tops and appliances. Accidentally knocking a pan off the dish top, he cursed and quickly put it back. That made noise. Dropping the pan in the first place made noise. This was all too loud and Noah crouched down like they do in the films of ye olden days, waiting for signs of life. Really, all he had wanted to do, in his tattered skull cap and black coat with-red-badge on the sleeve (a thing of honor and he only wore it at night), was leave a note on the fridge. He saw Max's feet and was relieved. He thought he wasn't home and apparently he was, so he stood up and, in his haste, knocked a plate off the counter and watched it fall in shadowed slow motion to the ground. "Crap." MAX: No, Noah. A man talking to him had nothing to do with the fact he had ignored you since Friday. Well. It did have something to do with that, but it was because Noah had decided to be an ass about things and tell said man things that would make Max blush to repeat. Not cool. So not cool. Most people would understand this, then again most people wouldn't have said such things in the first place. When he first saw Noah in the kitchen, he was initially happy to know someone wasn't robbing him of his meager belongings, but once that had passed he got mad that Noah was in his kitchen. "What the hell are you doing here?" Max asked as he pointed at the Texan with the bat in his hand. "That key is supposed to be for emergencies only." Like if he died or something. NOAH: At least Max seemed to recognize him and Noah was able to breathe a sigh of relief before moving to clean up the dish. Max's anger resonated and he picked up on it. Not a good sign. Moving quickly, he got as many of the pieces as he could and reached to deposit them in the trash bin, which he found by memory. Dusting his hands, he looked around for an excuse but found none. "Thought you had died," he started with, scratching his hair under the hat. The cotton made funny noises on his curls. Scratch scratch. "Well, not so much died as just vanished, so I came over to leave you a note. When I saw all your lights off at this house I figured you weren't home so, yanno, would be safe." Sure, he knew a lot of it had to do with what he said or didn't say or whatever. "To leave a note." MAX: Of course he recognized him. It was two days, not two years. And he was glad Noah picked up on the anger because it was very rare Max got mad at anything or anyone that wasn't assosiated with the American government, so congratulations to him for accomplishing that. "The lights were off because it's Sunday morning and I was sleeping," he replied as his voice shifted between anger and What the Fuck. Did that really not occur to Noah? Max knew you were a bit special, but this whole situation was taking things to an entirely new window. "And I didn't vanish. I was ignoring you." NOAH: With a shrug, he leaned on the counter and squinted at Max. Did he really have a baseball bat? How bizarre for a British man to own. "Yeah, I figured, you know I don't care what days of the week it is. Time is nothing but an illusion for me. 2am or 2pm... it's all the same." The load of horseshit he could spew forth from his mouth was unbelievable sometimes, it's amazing Noah had ever even managed to make friends---though he was doing a smash up job of losing them right now. Pointing with his jacket sleeve, "Did you honestly think you could hit me with a baseball bat, Max? I'm sad. I could have thought you were more of a cricket bat type." There was a hint of humor in there and a small feeble smile on his face. "Very... Simon Pegg of you." MAX: He bought it at a yard sale from a ten-year-old for five dollars when he first got stuck because the city scared the shit out of him. Growing up, he had never played baseball, which would explain his poor excuse for a swing. "Are you high?" It was only 8AM! Shouldn't that activity be started around lunch time? "Haha very funny. The guy from England plays cricket." Max couldn't play cricket if his life depended on it, mainly because he didn't really care about any sports in the first place. It didn't make him popular at school for that. "It's about as funny as your rape jokes and saying -- " He couldn't even repeat it. NOAH: Noah shook his head, no, he was not in fact high. That would be grand, but obtaining marijuana right now was not in his budget nor mind-set. As much as he would not mind it, that was what made his time in the Appalachian range so much nicer. "Unfortunately not, no, but uh, if you're holding..." A small smile crept up on his face as Max mentioned that one thing and, yeah. "Hah, I was trying to help you out, I wasn't all that serious." Hell if he knew what Max did and or did not like in bed, especially when it concerned other men. Now, women? he would for sure know without doubt. "How am I supposed to know whether or not this guy intends to do unsavory acts with you? It's not a parental-safe region, you know, New York is pretty disgusting." MAX: "No." After those raids last month, he was quite afraid to keep anything in his place out of fear of the cops finding it. Plus he tended not to write any music under the influence, so it really was all for the best. "That wasn't helping," he half-yelled back at Noah. "That wasn't anything remotely close to helping and was more along the lines of embarrassing!" And for the record you didn't know, Noah. You just assumed to know all about Max and the ladies. Mainly because he hadn't really slept with many people, let alone dated them in America. "And I'm twenty-seven. I can do unsavory things if I like." Pause. "Please leave, Noah." NOAH: "I was just---" Noah started, not exactly yelling back but there was a large hint of insistence in his voice. To make Max understand what he was trying to do seemed like a fail boat. Massive. Like that one ship sinking. He was preparing a statement but then Max just... booted him. This was not a situation to fight. He knew better. Shaking his head, he dropped his chin to his chest and picking himself up off the counter. Shoulders down, and exuding Whipped Puppy, he shuffled his feet to the door. Hand on the doorknob leading out, he cast one long sad glance back and shuffled out the door. Sad. |