Thaddeus Ealain (artattack) wrote in summerview, @ 2017-09-06 17:37:00 |
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Standing next to the display of pears, Tad picked a couple, squeezing them gently to test their firmness. Sometimes, he really wondered how he got to this point in his life, squeezing fruit. Granted, that was how fruit was checked for ripeness and he didn’t want under-ripened fruit, but....it just seemed so bizarrely adult. What was next, checking his fiber intake? Actually, no. Fiber was not a concern he had, thank you very much and lets move on to another topic. Any other topic. Obligingly, Tad set the plastic bag of pears in his cart and pushed it to got get a bag of spinach. Grocery shopping was the worst. Nuno was on the phone with his mom, talking a mile a minute as he sauntered through the grocery store. He was not actually looking for anything really. He was sent by Matt to get something for dinner. It was his turn to cook. He had called to get a recipe of hers, and now he was hearing all about his sister’s drama. It was not unusual. His mother was a worse gossip than any of the servicemembers he suffered for the last eight years. It was the fact that his mother still prefered to jabber in Portuguese, and he had a habit of just rolling with it. And now he was getting weird looks. Or it could have been the lime green sunglasses he had on with the Charzard hat. Still up to debate. He turned the corner and spotted a profile he knew as well as his own. After several attempts to lovingly shut his mother up, he told her he had to take a dump, which then had her yelling at him for language. With his mother off the phone. Nuno now started to slink around the various displays. He had to get a look at the face from the front. Make sure it was actually his old officer. Then he slinked back to make sure he was not with someone who would wonder why this small child-looking man was bugging him. And once satisfied with his intel, Nuno grabbed a potato that had seen better days and sidled up beside the older man and gave a drawn out, dramatic sigh before looking up at him. “Sir. You think these potatoes are bad?” Blinking at the potato, then the voice, Tad turned, trying to place the man in front of him. He knew him. He did..., “I think as little as possible, sailor. I’m not paid to think,” he replied automatically, a grin spreading over his sharp features. “What’re you doing here?” Not here as in the grocery store, but here as in Summerview. Because Summerview, well. Wasn’t exactly on the map for most people. Curious. “How’ve you been?” “What if I gave you a dollar,” he asked playfully. Nuno’s lips spread into a smirk and he raised his eyebrows at the man. It was nice to hear his old boss’ voice. Nuno hated how stereotypical he was. Seeing old faces made him happy. Even if it was in the more random of locations all things considered. There were weirder, for sure. A spa in Anchorage, maybe. Post office in Montana. To his question, Nuno just decided to be deliberately obtuse with the response. He gave a shrug and waved the potato in his hand. “Picking up food for my roommate and me. Was here checking out the local scene, but alas. The zip code means I pay my taxes to good ol’ Atlantic City. How about you, sir. Finally free yourself from Uncle Sam’s grip and breathing in that sweet pollution?” He gave the same wide smile. “I’ve been good, just moved here with one of my old buddies. Well not here here but New Jersey. How about you. You look good.” “Do I look like a dollar whore to you?” he raised an eyebrow, dubious, “I will have you know that I am one of the finest hookers you will ever meet. I warrant at least $2.” And that was accounting for inflation. Hooking was not what it used to be. Of course he was obtuse, really, Tad shouldn't've expected anything less. He might not remember this guy’s name specifically, but he knew that much. “What can I say? Uncle Sam wouldn’t pay me the $2 I asked for, so....no sucky sucky long time. Ended up moving here, and well, New Jersey isn’t as god-awful as the rumours suggest,” he actually liked it a lot and had long since decided that the rumours were spread to prevent too many people from catching on and moving into Jersey. Well, it depended a lot on where in New Jersey you were, too. It was definitely not Colorado, but then, few places were. “Though that potato begs otherwise. Put it down before it gives you a social disease.” “Ah, don’t sell yourself short. I think you’d be a good two-fifty for how long you were in.” Nuno extended his hand for the man to shake with a smile. “I feel it, though. No more battlefields for me to run through. I just got out.” He gave a shrug and pondered the potato in his hand. He would not eat it, but he probably would throw it at his roommate just because he could. He grabbed a plastic bag and dropped the spud in. There was a bit of crackle to the air between them. Nothing bad, but he noted there was something. Not tension. There were no hairs raising. But it was a weird way to find out a personal secret. So Nuno figured it was the whole seeing a familiar face in a magical place. That was not Disney. “All I’ve really seen is the shithole we moved into. It seemed fiscally responsible at first, but now I’m wondering the virtue of saving a dollar if the flat screen will get stolen. At the comment about the potato, Nuno gave his goat laugh and spun the spud’s bag in small circles. “I made it eight years in about a dozen countries and stayed clear. I think I can handle a pesky root.” He looked around, to the food in front of him, then back at Tad. “I guess the elephant in the room is we both are some form of Sailor Moon Magical Girls or something. Well. Maybe you are. I’m more of an Animorph. Or an Animagus.” Might as well get it out of the way. That and he was now picturing the older man in a sailor scout outfit, and the need to laugh was putting a strain on his straight face. “Are you even old enough to know Animorphs?” The books had come out when he was almost finished with high school, but he read them secretly anyways, fascinated by the kids who could turn into animals, just like he could and Tobias his favourite character. They had a lot in common after all. Both had primary bird morphs, both had dark hair, both had weird T-names. “I’m Tobias. Which one are you? I’m thinking....Marco.” The actor that played Marco had left acting and was apparently a personal trainer. How did he even know that after all this time? Then again, he also knew that the actor that played Tobias on the tv show had also quit acting. Maybe he needed a new hobby? “Fuck yeah, I am,” Nuno replied. “Used to whine until my parents took me to Borders to buy them.” It was funny. It was funny that Tad also identified with Tobias. Nuno did, too. Though it was more because the first time you meet the kid, Jake talks about how he stopped Tobias from getting his head flushed in a toilet. A life he had actually lived once. It was sad that he wanted something like they had. He had the secret of the shapeshifting. But no alien invasion or cool redemption plot. That being said, at least his brother did not end up as a big bad of the series. You know. Silver linings and that shit. “Marco. Why, because I’m short and loud?” He had to agree. In their situation, he could see Matt as a Jake. If Matt was also able to shift. Matt did have an attractive cousin. So that fit. He knew way too much about a kids book he read well over ten years ago. “I am not a gorilla, sadly. I think I’m more on par with like… Rachel.” He frowned and shook his head. “I’m embarrassed that we both can talk about this.” This meaning the book series. “If the tiara fits, princess,” Tad agreed, “but you’re also a little like a gorilla, even if you can’t shift into one...” he paused, trailing off. Well, this took a turn he hadn’t expected in the produce department, but at least they were in Summerview and not somewhere more normal, “What can you shift into then?” “Excuse you, I wear a diadem,” Nuno snipped back and crossed his arms over his chest. Yes, they were pretty much the same, but his sass would not be tamed. He knew for a fact. He had tried. And if anything, the produce section was the perfect place to discuss things. Especially as Nuno remembered he was supposed to buy dinner. Eggplant parmesan anyone? Matt could bitch about it later. “I uh…” he snorted and shook his head. “You know Toto from the Wizard of Oz?” He figured that would be a decent description of it. “And a ferret. You know, you’d think we’d be able to sense that shit on each other. Like you can spot a crossfit bro a mile away, but I can’t tell a fucking magic girl trapped in a metal dick floating in the ocean for months on end. It’s horse shit. Do you think I should bother with fresh parmesan or just be lazy? It’s not like it’s a date I’m cooking for right?” Once he finished his question, Nuno pulled out his phone to look up exactly… how to make eggplant parmesan. You know. That could be important. Laughing, Tad had to agree, Nuno was clearly a pretty space princess. Boat optional. “Always fresh, screw whomever you’re cooking for, your own taste buds will thank you. And you’re right, you are more Rachel. I’m still Tobias,: he was smug about that. “Primary is a raven, then boxer dog,” which had sort of been an accident, but he had sort of adopted the dog as a teen in the ever shifting zoo that was their house and well, he didn’t regret it. “This place though...” he smiled, looking around, “brings out the weird in everyone. It’s cool. Unlike most other places,” there were other safe havens for creatures like them, he had grown up in one, even it had just been more the neighborhood as opposed to a whole hidden town. Still, it was a comforting thing, not having to hide what he was. “Sir, my taste buds are shit, still. I’m learning what food is like without needing tabasco on everything.” Nuno’s statement was deadpanned “And fuck yeah, I’m Rachel. She was hot, man.” He grinned over at the older man and gave a laugh when he said he was a dog, as well. Power to the random canines. Though, really, his was more intimidating. Nuno ended up as the bunny of dog breeds. At least he was not a pug. That’d be embarrassing. He probably would not have admitted it if that was the case. “Other places?’ Nuno asked before he could stop himself. Ah. There was that mouth of his. “Shit, you knew about all this more than I did. My buddy found it in the usual, ‘I’m recon, I always know things I shouldn’t’ bullshit. Now it’s extra horse shit that I didn’t know about you.” “Too much mess food, apparently,” Tad teased, “fried your taste buds.” He scanned through his shopping list, moving to let another person by and going to the next item, assuming Nuno would follow, “I grew up in a...community like this. Mostly shifters, but a few others, too. Much smaller than here, just a neighborhood, sort of. But there are other communities like Summerview scattered around. Some hidden, like here, some less so, like where I grew up. When I got out and realized home....wasn’t really home anymore, part of the appeal of going east was being nearer communities like this. Doesn’t help make finding each other any easier. No built in ping-detector.” You know how Marine bases are, sir. Chow hall has prison food.” It had been heaven the few times he had been on Army or Navy bases. As Tad expected, Nuno walked in stride with him. He was not sure why, partially because he was just curious how things were. How he was. And what it was like to grow up knowing things about the world. Nuno was curious. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but he was a dog. Suck it, cat. “So there are places like this everywhere,” he repeated. His voice was tinted with a bit of disbelief. It was weird to think this could stay underwraps. Then again, he had managed to keep it from the military. “Up until my buddy Rod found this place, I only knew about my family. Even then, it was only a few of us. Going home wasn’t an option though. Not the family but, the place. It sucked, and Rod was here so.” Nuno shrugged. “Still getting used to it all.” Maybe Tad was spoiled, he had always been on Navy bases, except for his stint in Afghanistan, which had technically been an Air Force base, but was shared by all the branches with different clumps of tents in different areas. The hospital there had not been top of the line, but it had been more than serviceable, especially given the state of some of the other buildings. Then again, it was one of the most important. “Have you asked your family if they knew of places?” he asked, selecting a box of cereal (cinnamon oat cheerios) for the cart. “I don’t know of many, but there’s too many of us to not have a few. There was a were group not too far from where I grew up, we didn’t interact with them much, but they were there,” he didn’t think there was any bad blood so much as both groups chose to keep more to themselves. Still, he knew that the adults had gotten together from time to time to discuss things. He had been a child and had never gotten to take part. “Just my dad,” Nuno corrected with a shrug as he contemplated a box of shredded wheat in his hand and put it back. “Not that it matters, anyway. The only place he knows of is back in Portugal where he’s from. Even if my Ma was one, she’s from Brazil. So, you know. Equally as pointless.” He shrugged loosely so his arms flailed out and stuffed his hand in his pocket while the other continued to hold the bagged ugly potato. “And really, the less I had to make me stick out as a kid the better. Where I lived was bad enough, but if kids found out I was from a community or anything. Fuck, I doubt I could have joined with the injuries I’d’ve had.” He looked over at Tad and back to the cereal. Nuno reached out and poked the corner of a box so it shifted at an angle. “So, like. Did you ever have a hard time shifting or did you get help with that… shit.” He was not sure why he was asking. Probably validation? “Ah. I don’t know any outside the US,” which had been a concern for his family when he had joined the military, but hadn’t been a problem for Tad in the end. “I say ‘community,’ like we’re Amish or something,” he laughed, sarcastic, “Basically, a bunch of shifter families bought homes in the same rural area and over time, it grew. Not everyone there was, but Colorado is pretty laid back and it was a more rural area outside of town, so no one cared. It wasn’t like we had a fence or government or whatever.” It was a good place to grow up, having a couple acres just for your own home, the nearest neighbour being a couple acres away as well since they had their own property, meant enough privacy without being so far from people that it was secluded. It also meant people kept lots of animals, not just pets, so there were plenty of animals to shift into or choose. “I had to practice. My parents helped. They didn’t like the first form I chose, but I did it anyways because I could.” “Yeah, me either. I mean, it’s not like the group in Portugal has a calling list, so. I think it was one of those things where the families had been there for generations, so it just became that, I guess.” He shrugged and smirked. He wondered what it was like to just know what you were the whole time and have that support. To pick a first shift, or if there was an actual way to pick it. That weird spirit animal horse shit he saw people tag on Instagram. He knew there was nothing to prove any of it. But he always was becoming buddies with a dragon. So . What the hell did he know? “I sort of… popped into the shift whiling hiding from people,” Nuno admitted with a shrug. “My sister shifted when she was six for the first time. I was a late bloomer in the family. Only canine, too. So I asked if I was the dog walker’s kid when my Vovô told me that.” He gave the sharp smirk. “Do you like it here? I mean, aside from it not being hell or whatever. I’m still getting to know people and. You know how it is. Everything is out to get us in your mind.” Laughing, Tad continued his shopping, thinking he should have Nuno over for dinner sometime. Or maybe out for dinner given his lack of cooking skills. He wasn’t terrible, but he wasn’t that great either. He tended to make quicker meals, pasta or one-dish casseroles, things like that. “Yeah, it’s a good place here. Close to a lot, which I like, without being too in it. And can’t beat the traffic,” Summerview didn’t really have much of that. Definitely points in its favour. Nuno wanted to be mad that he was laughed at. But it was pretty damn funny. And useful. He had not wanted to have his ass beat that day. He nodded and thought about it. There was not much difference between living on base and there. It had just about everything on there a person needed while not being removed from the world. Surrounded by people who sort of got it. Sure, it was a step up, as people were not living in a barracks building with shared washers. All the small things, as Blink-182 said. “Fuck, you remember trying to get off base on a Friday after 1200? Everyone else peacing out because their CO’s decided oh, yeah. No more work, and you’re just trying to get a fucking burrito off base?” Nuno pulled his phone out then slid it awa. “I’m not keeping you from the missus am I?” “Missus?” Tad laughed, “I am still amazingly single. You?” Maybe he was dating the friend he mentioned? He had had a number of relationships over the years, but nothing that had ended up serious. He’d like one that did. He wanted a family and all that, but so far, no go. “Oh yeah. You had to go at least a mile off base before you could get anything that wasn’t wall to wall sailors.” Nuno scoffed openly showing both his disbelief that he was single and saying Nuno was, also, without lover. Matt wished they were together. Nuno would be the best 1950’s housewife. He’s even wear the heels if Matt asked nicely. Actually, no. Matt would take pictures and disperse them to the guys. Fuck that, Matt can find his own kept lady. Though he would have sworn someone would have hopped on the officer and gentleman by now. He was not exactly skinning cats or anything. So, all things considered in current events, he was a fucking angel. “I’m honing my nesting skills for when I find the right person to trick into sharing a contractually binding lease,” Nuno deadpanned as he decided he did, in fact, want those Lucky Charms. “Man, in San Diego, I couldn’t use the head without seeing someone with a moto-tat sleeve next to me. It was a nightmare. Must be heaven here to have only seen my stupid ass. Raising an eyebrow, Tad didn’t comment. Instead, he tossed a bag of coffee into his cart. It was not Folger’s or Starbucks because he had tastebuds and he wanted to keep them. The navy didn’t destroy them and he wouldn’t let inferior coffee do it now. Granted, this wasn’t great coffee, for that he would need to drive into Atlantic City, but it was good enough for the grocery store as a back up. “I think I can handle your ass,” Tad deadpanned, “but yes. I generally avoid the Annapolis area for the same reason when I travel. Though I’ve found that letting my hair grow a little helps. I’m no longer a beacon of military light.” Not that he ever really was, but there was always that one kid at the airport that needed help and realized he was an officer who likely could. “You do have prior experience in ass-handling,” Nuno agreed solemnly with his lip twitching to fight a smile. If the people here were even a third as bad as a bunch of oversexed, trapped sailors? Well, Nuno knew Tad would have no problem here. And he also wondered if it was at all possible for anyone to really be overwhelmed after even a quarter of the horseshit they dealt with. Nuno looked over at the other man, surveyed him and stepped outside of previous knowledge. Maybe he did not seem so military now. Hell, the only reason Nuno recognized him is the man rarely forgot a face. His whole job was to observe, after all. “Yeah, the Fabio look is really working for you. I, however, must stay an upstanding member of society with the boring hair.” Nuno snorted and shook his hair. “And my hair is shit. It’s better to keep this shit short. Besides, no one looks at me and goes, ‘Now that is someone who I would want protecting my civilian ass.’” He had let his hair grow a little too much recently, but he hadn’t really thought about having a haircut, “I probably should cut it,” he acknowledged, “but I’m lazy. I had it longer in high school, but this is the longest since I cut it in college. Had to look professional even before the Navy,” he had gone through a specialised training program aimed at doctors, lawyers and similar professions versus ROTC or something like that. It meant he was older when he had joined, but it also meant a shortened training time. “So what are you doing then now that you’re out? I assume you have a job or something?” Nuno could be a hooker or living his dream of being a prize show dog, but something, he doubted both. When Tad said he should gte it cut, Nuno offered a very helpful and loose shrug in response. If that was what the old man wanted. He was terrible at judging that shit himself. The military boy haircut worked great for him. He knew every two weeks, now that it was not a mandatory weekly thing, he would need it cut. And it would be a two to a three buzz all the way around. And that it would be $10 before tip. And it was also really fucking difficult to mess up. Not that he had not seen it happen before. After all, he had plenty of experience watching people get barracks cuts. “I never had long hair. I mean, sort of when I was a baby and my parents didn’t want to cut my hair too soon, but I think I had varying levels of buzz cut since I was seven. It’s easier that way.” For a split second, he had almost grown out the top. He still was thinking about it. He also had it completely shaved like Matt for the second deployment. That was changed real fast after he was done wheezing out laughs at how stupid he looked. “I’m a cop,” he answered simply. “Out in the city. I could have gone EMT, but I think I am done with that shit. For now at least.” He had treated enough emergency issues in his lifetime. Granted, even now he had to respond to it all. And a few times the EMTs on the scene accepted his help when there were more injuries than hands on the ambulance. A gift and a curse, perhaps. “How about you. Still playing the good doctor?” “Still pushing pills anyways,” he wasn’t a medical doctor, but a pharmaceutical doctor. He could diagnose smaller, common things, but he was really better suited to dispensing medications and checking drug interactions and even custom-compounding drugs when needed. Pharmacology was very different from being a medical doctor. “It made sense. And it pays a little better out in the private sector,” he hadn’t joined the military for the money, nor had he hurt for it while he was in, saving most of what he earned since Uncle Sam provided, but he had to admit, the pay increase now that he was out and had to pay for everything, was useful. “I’m kinda surprised you didn’t go EMT. You could have easily made paramedic. Or gone to school to become a PA or something. You’re smart enough and have the drive, if it’s what you want to do. But I can see you as a cop, too. Just....be careful,” because there was too much political upheaval around police and everything. “Better than poppin,” Nuno pointed out without a hint of sarcasm. As a hospital medic, he saw too many people trying to use the pharmaceuticals for benefits other than actual pain or illness. It was one of the facts that a bored Marine or sailor was a danger to themself. The fact that he was not entirely needed in the sickbay to handle seasick idiots or the occasional cases of the shits, Nuno found himself helping in the pharmacy side more than anything, handling everything from giving female sailors their BC shots to tetanus shots when E-2s who were told not to touch a thing touched the thing. “Hell, you guys were underpaid as it was, sir. It’s horse shit. You probably could have made more working the corner outside of a base than working on one.” Nuno did not meet Tad’s face when he commented about being an EMT. There was a flicker of hollowness to the younger man’s eyes as he looked at the boxes before them. But as soon as it was there, it had been blinked away and the goofy look was back. “What’s wrong, sir. Don’t like the idea of this young buck being shot at,” he offered in a teasing tone. The irony heavy in the statement, as both men knew Nuno spent most of his enlistment having that exact thing done. “Can’t pin me down, man. Besides, now I have my own pair of handcuffs. That’s every green-side man’s dream.” His lips ticked up, but there was no light to his face. “I like being in the station though. It’s a lot like the barracks. Everyone is shitting on each others’ egos, talking about their mothers, and hyped up on no sleep and too much energy drinks. Kinda feels like home.” Somehow, Tad could see that with Nuno. “Be careful,” he ordered. “Do not fuck it up.” That was all that needed to be said. No sense in criticizing or questioning the other man’s choices, they were already made. “I should go check out. Give me a call sometimes. We’ll get a beer?” He was glad to see Nuno again, the tie to his past was a comforting one, even though they hadn’t been close when they were in the Navy. Then again, he was an officer, Nuno was enlisted, a friendship wasn’t really possible then. It was now. “Yes, sir,” Nuno replied automatically to the order. It was programmed in some sick Pavlovian way to get his body to snap-to. It had to be a tone taught at OCS, because every officer had it if they cared enough. The sharp but not asshole tone that clipped past the walls even senior enlisted put up to get that quick, no-bullshit obedience. It was only a second before that sensation faltered and Nuno’s normal disposition returned, but there was that lingering annoyance that it still worked. And Tad probably knew it would work. The annoyance vamished when Tad asked him to hang out for beer. A slow smirk crossed his face and Nuno retrieved his wallet where he had his business card (Yes, even though he was a detective, he had them in case people remembered things later) and took one out. He then made a show of tucking the wallet away and coughing into the hand not holding the business card as he cleared his throat. Nuno then turned his sad, brown eyes to Tad and furrowed his brows. “Hey, I just met you. And this is crazy. But here’s my number,” Nuno handed his business card over and the smirk crossed his face. “So call me maybe?” He then winked and about faced in spot before all-but sashaying away singing the chorus to the song with a smirk on his face. |