ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ (mobdog) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2016-04-06 12:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2018 [11] november, sasha whittaker, viktor scherbatsky |
Who: Vic Scherbatsky & Sasha Whittaker
When: Backdated to November 4, 2018, after Vic and Marina find their RV
Where: The Dog Park
What: Vic wants to update Sasha about some life changes
It was official, then. At least, as official as it was ever gonna get, considering the new RV that was parked ten feet away from the old, reliable Airstream that had once been Vic, Zhenya, and Sasha's home together. The last year had brought a shit ton of changes, both good and bad: Zhenya's passing, Max's move to the Dog Park, Sasha's eighteenth birthday, and the beginning of whatever this was between him and Marina. When Marina had moved into his tent in August, after Vic had vacated the Airstream to make room for Max, it had really just been giving her space to stay while she grappled with whether she even wanted to stay at the Dog Park after she'd learned that the Hellhounds had been peddling drugs. Starting something up with her had been the last thing on his mind, especially with a son to think about and a late wife who'd only passed a year ago, but it couldn't be helped. Zhenya herself had told him to keep living, too, right before it'd all ended. The two of them had never put a label on it, but everyone even peripherally involved knew that as soon as they'd told Sasha about them being more than just roommates, it was serious. Having a real home, not just a makeshift room on the ground, was a big next step. Vic wanted to make sure Sasha was okay with all of this. Life had shifted in numerous ways for Sasha since the apocalypse had begun, but the last year had brought about a laundry list of changes that while he had weathered them, he couldn't claim they had left him unaffected. Losing his mom had been the hardest, the thing that still stuck with him like an old injury that ached whenever it rained. Max moving in and Vic moving out had tossed his world about some, but he still had them, so it was a change he had easily adjusted to - because the core of it had been good. Now, his dad starting something up with Marina had been kinda weird in the beginning, not because he didn't want Vic to be happy, but he had had a crush on Marina….one that ended like the moment they had sat him down and told him. So, in short Sasha was weathering everything about as well as a teenager could. Which meant mostly he was trying not to think about those things that hung on the periphery of his mind and caused him to falter or feel something a little too deeply. He wasn’t ignoring the ache, he was managing it. Sasha sat hunched over a sketchbook, fiddling with a project Noa had given him. He knew it would probably be a good six months still before she ever let him near an actual person with a tattoo gun, but the fact she trusted him to design something was a big deal to him, something he didn't want to fuck up. "Hey," Vic said, interrupting without much preamble. He'd left Marina in the RV to get it ready for them, then walked over to the Airstream. "You got anything going on this afternoon? Thought we could do something if you wanted. Spar or hang out or something." When Vic poked his head in and called out to him, Sasha didn't answer until he had finished the line he’d been drawing. “Is that code for “I want to check in on you?’” He asked once he looked up for the sketchpad. “Because you could just say that and I’d still say yes to doing something. Which since I was given the option I say we go spar,” Sasha smirked. “Unless you're afraid you can’t keep up.” It was gentle teasing, a son poking at his father in a good natured kind of way. "Say shit like that and it sounds like you don't trust me or something." Vic ducked his head to enter the Airstream fully, then bent down to give the cat a couple of pats on his side. Once he scampered off and out the door, Vic crossed his arms and leaned against the side of the Airstream while he studied his son. "Nah, I ain't checking up on you specifically, but I was thinking it would be good to talk. This a good time, or are you busy with that?" Sasha chuckled. “Nah, it isn’t about trust. Just figure no matter my age you’ll always be checking up on me,” he answered as Vic stepped fully into the Airstream. “So I thought I’d save you the trouble of disguising it.” Sasha finished while closing the sketchpad and tucking it back into the bag he kept the rest of his art supplies in. “But as that’s not the case, ignore everything I just said,” a smirk was tossed in Vic’s direction while he spoke. “And I’m never too busy to spend some time with you.” Vic was the last parent he had left in this world, so Sasha would never pass on the opportunity to spend time with him - because in this life you never knew when or if this time might be the last. “Now, back to my earlier question, you think you can keep up with me in a sparring match?” Sasha was already standing up now and wordlessly motion for Vic to go ahead and lead the way out of the Airstream. "I think I better be asking you that question, but maybe today's the day you'll finally be some kind of competition." Maybe one day Sasha would be able to beat Vic in some kind of physical contest, and he'd be the first to cheer his son on when that did happen. Right now, though, he was happy to kick Sasha's ass on and off until the kid put on more muscle mass. Recovering shoulder or not, he was pretty agile for a guy his size. Sasha cocked an eyebrow and just made a “humph” noise, which was so very mature of him. “It’s not my fault you’re like a freak of nature in size,” he fired back, barely hiding a grin as the words left his mouth. “You’ve got an unfair advantage there, because I could live at the gym and still not look like you…” It just wasn’t how Sasha was built, and he was okay with that. He would have made a decent fighter in his weight class, except that would never be proven because, well, zombies. "You could still put some mass on if you wanted to." Vic and Rome were likely more predisposed, genetically, to maintain their muscle like they did, but he'd seen plenty of scrawny kids like Sasha put on the bulk in the gym if they worked at it. Of course, that required plenty of food, and that was hard to come by these days. But still -- hypothetically, it was possible. "Now that you don't need to be at a specific weight class." He stepped out, hands in his pockets, and waited for Sasha to realize the RV that was tucked next to the Airstream. Sasha laughed. “I’d have to eat my weight in spam or something to put on that kind of mass.” Okay, maybe he was adding a teenager’s exaggeration to that remark. He knew that Vic had a point and if he had ever made it to the point of taking on a real fight, he was positive he would have bulked up at least a little bit. But those days were long gone now. “You’re really dead set on this whole idea of me looking like an honest to god Scherbatsky’s, aren’t you?” Sasha added with a smirk that would no doubt give away that fact that he knew his dad wasn’t trying to make him look more like family, as it stood it wasn’t like a single person in their little hodge podge of a family looked physically related to each other. "Oh, yeah. I'm heartbroken every day about it," Vic replied, his face and tone of voice as deadpan as he could possibly get it. “Maybe one day it’ll happen,” Sasha replied with a hint of a smirk. “But I’m not shaving my hair of, like, ever.” he added while he followed his dad out of the trailer, it was two seconds, maybe three, before Sasha’s dark eyes settled on the new RV and both eyebrows rose up to nearly meet his hairline. “You got rid of the tent?” Was the question he blurted out, following in short succession by. “Do you even fit in that thing?” "Didn't get rid of it," Vic corrected immediately. "Got it packed away just in case." He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to hide just how carefully he was watching Sasha's reaction. "Yeah, I gotta duck to get in, and the saying on the front's cheesy as fuck, but I fit." He paused, wondering how best to discuss all of this, then decided to start out with: "Figured I was too old to keep sleeping on the ground." “In case of what?” Sasha questioned as he walked up to the RV and gave the thing a closer look. “You expecting Marina to throw you out into the dog house or something?” He continued, glancing over his shoulder at his dad. "Dunno. In case we end up having more people crashing in this part of the Dog Park. Or you or Max end up wanting to have your own place." In that case, though, Vic would probably end up getting them a second RV or even a truck bed, but still. “I suppose those are all valid reason to keep it,” Sasha began. “Although at the rate we’re going I don’t think Max or I will be moving out of the Airstream anytime soon.” Truthfully he liked having a roommate and didn’t think he would do too well on his own. After a few moments he smirked, adding. “You are too old to be sleeping on the ground, though” Sasha tried to hide said smirk, but had no luck. “But that isn’t why you really got this thing is it?” "You say that like it wasn't part of it." Vic shrugged his good shoulder as he glanced back over at the RV, then brought his gaze squarely to Sasha once more. The kid was taking this pretty well, all things considered. Then again, Vic wasn't sure what, exactly, he'd expected. "I guess that was how the conversation started -- she was getting tired of it, you know? And then we got to thinking it'd be nice to have our own space together, a real one. Especially since the Airstream belongs to you and Max." “Fine, maybe it was a small part of it,” Sasha coincided with a teasing twinkle in his eyes. Sure, it was a little weird to think of his dad moving into an RV with someone else. But not that weird, after all Marina had already been living in the tent with Vic -- so adjusting to the idea of them sharing a RV together took less work than it might have had they not already been living together. “I’m surprised she put up with it for so long,” he remarked. “You could have kicked Max and I out into the tent,” Sasha paused. “Or was it too weird to think about sharing the Airstream with Marina ‘cause it used to be yours and mom’s?” "You know, I dunno." Vic led them a couple of steps further away from their corner of the Dog Park before he turned around to face the two vehicles, looking them over and committing their likenesses to memory. They looked good next to each other, he thought. "I always thought it was right to let you and Max have the Airstream when we brought him home, even before I knew Marina would be living with us. Could've kicked y'all out of it, but I never minded that tent much." Still, was there truth to Sasha's question? It was something Vic didn't like to think too hard about, but he forced himself into it for his son's sake. He deserved an honest answer. "I guess on some level, maybe I never really considered it because of that," Vic replied after another moment's consideration. "Didn't ever occur to me to move us into there, and she never asked. When we talked about it, it was always just about finding a new place together." Sasha had followed Vic out further away from the RV and Airstream, turning to look at them both like the larger man had. He stole a couple of glances over at his dad as he spoke, nodding when he mentioned never minding the tent and feeling like it was right to let him and Max keep the Airstream. He supposed he could understand that, after all wasn’t it a parent’s job to put their kids above themselves? Or like look out for them? Still, when Vic ventured into answering the last part of what he had asked, Sasha's brow furrowed as he thought about his own response to that. He couldn’t speak for his mom, but part of him wanted to think that she wouldn’t have minded, or that she’d be happy for Vic for finding someone. After all that was essentially how Vic himself had found their way into his life, his mom moved on after his dad’s death all those years ago. “I think mom would be happy for you,” Sasha blurted out after a moment. “And I guess I get wanting a place that’s yours and Marina’s,” he paused. “But….you’re not going to like become a stranger in the Airstream now are you?” They still hung out in the Airstream from time to time, a fact which Sasha liked and wanted to keep. "I think she would be, too." Zhenya had said as much herself, as much as she could manage at the time, anyway, right near the end of everything. Of course, having her blessing hadn't ever made it easy for Vic to do much moving on. Nor had he been actively looking to move on at all, until Marina showed up at their corner of the Dog Park and decided to live with them. He reached a hand out to ruffle Sasha's hair with a fond smile, ignoring any complaints. "Of course I'll still be around. And we'll still do the dinners and everything. Nothing's really gonna be any different, I just won't be living like some kinda homeless man on the streets anymore. Okay?" Ducking out of his dad’s reach, Sasha tried (mostly in vain) to smooth his hair back down. “You know I’m happy for you too,” he began while he offered the taller man a smile. “And while I did like telling people my dad was the homeless man of the Dog Park, I guess I can deal with you living like a civilized person again.” Sasha’s smile morphed into a smirk as he remained out of Vic’s reach. It was a relief -- and one he wouldn’t be afraid admitting -- that things like family dinner and everything would remain the same. Sasha would have adjusted of course, but it was nice to know he wouldn’t have to. “Good, because I’m pretty sure that RV wouldn’t be able to fit all of us in there at once.” Maybe it could, but Sasha wasn’t about to suggest they test out that theory. Maybe one day they would. But for today Sasha preferred to think that the only change he would need to adjust to was the fact that his dad wasn’t sleeping in a tent like he was on some kind of never ending camping trip. |