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it's all so incredibly loud //
The ship just seems so incredibly... quiet, without Ray. He knows he has no right to think that, he's not an OG member of this little crew, but he's learned the ins and outs of how they operate anyway. At first it was begrudgingly and now, as always, he finds himself in the crux of every stupid decision they make. He can scarcely remember the day he moved in now, some stupid quip about not playing dress-up; but it feels like a different lifetime. It was, wasn't it? A different timeline, anyway.
He hears footsteps past his doorway at every hour and he's learned to identify them all. The purposeful stride of Ava, the sharp staccato of Sara, the lumbering oafishness of Rory, the light and carefree steps of Behrad... and most recently, the high-pitched clack of Zari's heels. Most nights, he hides in here, drinks a fifth of a bottle or enough to sleep, whichever comes first. His priorities have shifted a bit since their jaunt out of time. It's the first truly selfish thing he's done in forever and he knows it was for Zari, too. It's what keeps the guilt from consuming him, though his fingers itch for a drink or a smoke. He bought another pack at some point, but it remains pristine in a drawer like an insurance policy rather than anything he intends to use.
The sound startles him, her heels outside his door. His heart pounds, trying to make himself wait and see if she'll pass by. Certainly, she would if he didn't intervene. He's not that interesting when he isn't doing magic, at least by his own perception. Yet she sticks around, she listens to him. He tries not to let it remind him of anything - or anyone.
At the last possible moment, he stumbles to the door, opening it with that unsatisfying Star Trek button. He misses wooden doors, tangible things. Convenience is all well and good, but he's an old-fashioned guy, and maybe just an old one, too. That's how he feels tonight anyway, taking a half-step into the hallway so that they nearly collide. He reaches out automatically to grab both her arms, feeling like he tripped and fell anyway, her eyes once again capturing his as he forgets to speak.
"...Hey." It's soft, betraying his vulnerability as well as the wetness in his own gaze. "You weren't comin' to see me, were ya?" Probably just wishful thinking, he knows, but when she rejects the notion he can just laugh it off like always.
He hears footsteps past his doorway at every hour and he's learned to identify them all. The purposeful stride of Ava, the sharp staccato of Sara, the lumbering oafishness of Rory, the light and carefree steps of Behrad... and most recently, the high-pitched clack of Zari's heels. Most nights, he hides in here, drinks a fifth of a bottle or enough to sleep, whichever comes first. His priorities have shifted a bit since their jaunt out of time. It's the first truly selfish thing he's done in forever and he knows it was for Zari, too. It's what keeps the guilt from consuming him, though his fingers itch for a drink or a smoke. He bought another pack at some point, but it remains pristine in a drawer like an insurance policy rather than anything he intends to use.
The sound startles him, her heels outside his door. His heart pounds, trying to make himself wait and see if she'll pass by. Certainly, she would if he didn't intervene. He's not that interesting when he isn't doing magic, at least by his own perception. Yet she sticks around, she listens to him. He tries not to let it remind him of anything - or anyone.
At the last possible moment, he stumbles to the door, opening it with that unsatisfying Star Trek button. He misses wooden doors, tangible things. Convenience is all well and good, but he's an old-fashioned guy, and maybe just an old one, too. That's how he feels tonight anyway, taking a half-step into the hallway so that they nearly collide. He reaches out automatically to grab both her arms, feeling like he tripped and fell anyway, her eyes once again capturing his as he forgets to speak.
"...Hey." It's soft, betraying his vulnerability as well as the wetness in his own gaze. "You weren't comin' to see me, were ya?" Probably just wishful thinking, he knows, but when she rejects the notion he can just laugh it off like always.
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Zari stays prone on the bed, smiling fondly as he effectively tosses his room apart again. She raises a brow at the bottle, but doesn't question it. If there's need more proof how stupidly in love she is already, it's the fact the woman with an established routine for maintaining her skin doesn't even blink at something foreign going on. Zari trusts him. It feels nice to be taken care of by someone who truly cares for a change after years of strange ones going through a sterile routine for an established fee.
She sighs contently as the scent hits her. Zari, unsurprising given her name, loves flowers. Half the perfumes in her room are just an odd variety of floral scents from all over the world. It would be relaxing enough to lull herself if not for those knots. Wow. She really should go back for a professional massage when she has the time. Zari groans softly as he hits them, but doesn't complain. She chuckles instead at how clearly he does not get it. Okay, time to spell it out for John.
"You're literally taking care of me without being asked to with fancy oil from who knows where, but you're right. Not sweet at all." She notes sarcastically.
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"I'm a wizard, of course I have fancy oil." Why do you think he smells like incense half the time??? Come on now. He carefully avoids talking about the taking care of her part, it's something he tries to avoid doing in general yet he seems to always take in strays. In this case, a whole ship full. But of course, his relationship with Zari is so much more than that. "Feeling any better?" he asks in that lower register only reserved for her after a few moments of working her sorest muscles. He continues rubbing in lighter circles and leans in to kiss her neck affectionately.
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"Honestly? Yeah. This feels amazing." She takes in a deep breath and exhales through her nose. "Can we just keep doing this forever? Being a time-travelling superhero is so overrated. People should really learn to fend for themselves so we can be doing more important things." Like spoiling her. :)
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He smiles at her suggestion, wishing it were that simple. Sometimes when he's with her - like right now - it almost feels like it could be. Almost.
"You'd bore of me doting on you all the time," John points out while not believing it for a second.
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Zari does know it isn't that simple. She reluctantly admits, "I'd feel bad after a couple of days. That guy with the glasses would probably get Mick to break down the door before that." He is pretty needy. Since Zari has no idea what stunts Gary pulled with her brother, she just regards him as a strange man child they've all seemed to have collectively adopted.
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"Unfortunately, I've probably taught him enough magic to do it himself." And isn't that a scary thought? "What do you think is the maximum amount of time we could disappear without the villagers gathering their pitchforks?" He's genuinely curious now, though he's never been the type of person to 'vacation.' Maybe he has a reason to now.
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"Two days if we leave separately at different times. I've actually got a shoe launch coming up so that'll buy me some time before one of the dummies figures out there's a party they can crash." She yawns. Ava already has become like the influencer boogeyman; a random blond who will ruin your launch and toss you into a fountain at the end. DJ Smoremoney is currently in therapy after Nate's 'violent assault' too come to think of it. She can only imagine what chaos they'll cause this time.
"Where are we going?" Obviously they're doing this now.
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"Somewhere far, far away." It sounds heavenly, actually, even as he vaguely recalls the first 'vacation' the Legends tried to take. Of course, he hadn't been invited yet but he sure ruined that for them anyway. "Ever been to Holland?"
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"Maybe yours so we can go incognito. Amsterdam is always Amsterdam." x
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"What about me makes you think I'd object to a proposal like that?" he teases. It's lowkey always been a strategy of his, to surround himself with wealthy people who will fund his weirdo lifestyle. So if she enjoys spending money on him, he can't find a reason to complain. "I'll just have to come up with a way to repay you. Somehow."
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Maybe she's a little ticklish there. "I also demand unlimited massages and cuddles. Seriously if I feel alone for even a minute, I'm suing for that creepy murder house. Little Zari would love to play in that." Time travel, everyone.
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"Your terms are acceptable," he teases against her ear, but otherwise goes still, trying to give her an excuse to finally let her mind rest.
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