nysalogs | House 1 is... number... 1??????

Entry tags:

House 1 is... number... 1??????

Who: Genjo Sanzo (

ascertain)
What: Roommates Finding Out They're Roommates and The Chaos That Ensues
Where: House 1 in the Residential District
Warning(s): Smoking, Swearing, and the Pure Horror That Lambdadelta is Capable Of.

[It didn't take Sanzo long to find his home, it was one of the very first buildings on the block of the residential block after all.

Scratch that, it was absolutely the first house on the block.

But it was upon walking in that he soon realized how small and cramped it was. Not that it bothered him, cramped was comfortable. It was the overly extravagant and spacious that got to him. Actually, if you ignored the cracks in the walls and the slightly old and musty smell the place carried, it seemed to have it's own charm to it. Kind of.... Sort of.

At least at the moment it seemed he was all alone in it, and he knew better than to expect that that would always be the case. So, while he was able to enjoy his privacy, he decided to get to something that was plaguing his mind all day.

Taking a deep sigh, he stepped over to the couch and quickly threw the heavy camouflage jacket that he found off his body. The clothes he had found among the rubble and debris during their crash-land to the planet had spared him the shame of traveling to Olympia in tattered robes, but he was happy to get out of what he was wearing as quickly as possible.

Now, where could the bathroom be located in this shit-hole?]

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[Yusei's not unused to long periods of silence that are occupied with nothing but the sounds of him tinkering with machines. In fact, such a thing is usually calm and comfortable and passes away well before he's aware of how long it's been.

This time it's different. Usually if it's silent, it's because the others are busy working in the garbage sorting plants, or Rally has gone off to rummage through the scrap piles, or it's late into the night and everyone else is asleep. In the back of his mind, Yusei would know where his friends and roommates likely are, and that's enough comfort for him. But he's not entirely familiar with his new roommates' habits to be entirely comfortable with their absence, particularly Lambda's. It's been at least a week since he's seen her, and while Sanzo being out late isn't particularly unusual, this coupled with her continued absence is just enough to set him on edge.

The unfamiliarity of this technology is just frustrating enough that he can't entirely lose himself in it, either. Steam vehicles, really? Surely with everything else they have going on, they could have updated their automobiles too, but until then he needs to actually understand how the mechanics of these things work.

Not for the first time that night, he puts down the particular component he's working on down on the table next to the engine with a sigh, leaning back on the couch to stare at a nearby clock. Mn. It's earlier than he usually turns in, but he knows it's late for most other people to be out. Where is everyone?]

Haah...

[It was not that Sanzo was unused to being around people. In fact,he had spent the past three years of his life being almost unconfortably stuck with three others on a near constant basis. But perhaps it was because of just such a thing that Sanzo had come to appreciate the sudden space he was granted.

Of course, that was not to say he hadn't had his moments. Being stuck on a strange new world where everything he knew was gone was not an ideal living situation. But he was managing through it. He had to. Surviving and forcing himself through the hardships that were thrown at him was the only way he knew how to deal with it.

Well, that and the booze. The booze certainly helped.

He had spent the entirety of the week wandering around aimlessly, trying his best to understand the way of the people who survived here. He had studied their culture, their religion, their way of life, and he absolutely hated all of it. It was just another world with a shitty culture too much like his own and an even shittier and more oblivious belief system. That and they all fucked around too much. Literally.

He had seriously considered running back off to the woods and living his life as a hermit multiple times now.

Instead he settled on going out and getting drinks at the local pubs until his pockets ran near empty. It didn't last too long because he still had no job to speak of, but what loose change he had managed to scrounge up was enough to do the job.

It was quite late at night when Sanzo arrived 'home' , slamming the door open and staring blankly at the kid who was still up for some god forsaken reason. Looked like he was still making a mess of the common room as well.]

What the fuck are you even doing?

[Yusei had almost just about closed his eyes to contemplate things a little more when the door slams open. That's enough to jerk him to wakefulness, and his eyes shoot open as his body tenses up, alert.

Turning his head to the door gives him the sight of a very irate, very drunk Sanzo. Well. That's one of his questions answered, at least. His face settles back down into its usual blank slate, gesturing to the odds and ends scattered around the table.]

The usual, as you can see.

[Yep. The usual.]

And what the fuck is 'the usual' supposed to even be?

[Sanzo had caught occasional glances of Yusei working throughout the week, but never once bothered to ask what he was wasting his time on. Sanzo never once before now thought the explanation would be worth his own time.

Then he realized he had too much of it. And then he realized he had nothing to do during any of it. And then alcohol happened.

Sauntering up, slightly wobbly but overall holding his own, he approached the curious contraption with a reluctant gaze.]

An engine? Or are you just throwing a bunch of junk together to create some sort of modern art piece?

[He even starts probing it with his foot a little out of sheer morbid curiosity.]

Ah. I'm trying to figure out how this works, but steam engines...they're really far behind what I'm used to seeing, so-

[Dude, what are you doing.]

You...don't want to do that.

[Seriously. Don't prod the engine with your foot. Especially not on that latch.]

Edited 2017-08-08 23:42 (UTC)

[Yeah he's not listening. Or at least he doesn't seem to care. He still kicking it out of sheer curiosity because, well, there's a fucking engine in his living room. Why not?]

A steam engine huh? Didn't know a twerp like you could mess with such things. You're full of surprises ain't ya?

[It seemed pretty damn sturdy anyway. What could a few curious foot taps do to-- Oh. The latch moves.]

Ah.

Like I said, they're a bit behind what I'm used to. But one of the things I do know is that you really shouldn't turn that latch, since that releases the exhaust. [He says, as Sanzo moves the latch.]

So you should probably-

[And right at that moment, the engine lets loose a large volume of steam, right from said exhaust pipe. That might or might not be launching said steam in Sanzo's face if he doesn't move back enough. You know. Really hot steam. Yusei watches on in mild concern.]

...duck.

[Yeah, we both know this monk is far too wasted to have the reflexes he normally would. This is why drunk people shouldn't kick things. At least he learned his lesson--?]

Aghhh! MotherFUCKER!!!!

[Good thing he was only exposed for a second before deciding to step back, the steam no longer as searing when exposed to cool air. None the less his face, when visible, was a bright shade of red.]

Why the FUCK would you even keep this in the house!?! What if something went wrong and you blew this entire goddamn place up!?!

[...Or maybe his face was just red because of how angry he was.]

[Yusei would normally feel bad, but...you're drunk. Also, you brought this on yourself. So it's rather easy to keep his face neutral this time around.]

It's normally not full of water like that. I was only using it to test something, otherwise it wouldn't have gone off like that in the first place.

Except it WAS and it DID!

[You know what? For that, Yusei, you get the fan. Pulling the large paper toy out of his robe he gave Yusei a quick disciplinary THWACK.]

Take that thing outside right now where it's safe! I don't want you blowing up out apartment!

Edited 2017-08-12 00:51 (UTC)

["Because you kicked it," is what he would have said, except he got fanned. Yusei buckles over, before looking up to stare at Sanzo owlishly, as if he hadn't expected that sudden outburst. He definitely didn't expect to get whacked by a toy fan, either, so that's definitely a first for him.]

A...ah. [Wow. He actually looks properly chastised, for once.]

You heard me! Out! Now!

[Disciplinary dad mode activated. You are in so much trouble young man! Look, he's even pointing towards the door.]

[What the heck, dude. He hasn't ever been yelled at like this since leaving Martha's house. Like her, he's squabbling over something reasonable, but...]

I refuse.

[He doesn't feel like letting an old drunkard win, yo.]

I can't get any work done outside this time of night. [No light, yo.]

[Oh no you didn't you little--]

...What did you just say?

[Sanzo was smiling in regard to Yusei's response, but the smile meant nothing good. His body tensing he stomped up closer to the kid and grabbed him by the collar.]

'S that a death wish I hear coming from you?

[One has to give Yusei credit, he barely changes expression when he's grabbed that way, his eyes only narrowing somewhat due to the sudden motion. Heck, it's so long before he actually answers that one might think he just intends on glaring Sanzo into letting him go.]

And? If it is?

[Oh, boy. This is gonna be fun.]

[..... Oh. So he was challenging him how was he?

His eyes grew dark as he stared Yusei down with a blank expression. Usually he did not wish to do such things indoors. It was stupid to go around wrecking your own property after all, also it was impolite. But Yusei had started it by being a little douche in their shared living space so-- It's only fair that he was allowed to disrespect their home the same way Yusei was.

His reflexes were fast as he slipped the gun from his sleeve, almost immediately aiming up and pulling the trigger so that the bullet sped just beside Yuseis brow, taking a few strands of his hair in the process and piercing a hole into the wall behind him.

And then, slowly, he brought the gun up to Yusei's head, glaring him down.]

Your machine. Move it.

Now.

[Yusei visibly starts sweating at hearing the bullet go off, but while he does tense up, his facial expression barely changes other than his eyes widening slightly in shock.

They narrow again soon enough, though, and he does nothing to stop Sanzo from putting the gun to his head, instead just focusing on glaring him down. Apparently, he doesn't think Sanzo is the type to actually go through with the threat, but then again...the monk is drunk. Who knows what kind of fate he's tempting with that quiet defiance?]

[Sanzo is giving a mutually defiant glare back. His vision may have been a bit blurry with the half a dozen drinks he downed over the past few hours, but his violet eyes were as sharp and focused as ever.

So the little fucker was challenging him was he? Fine.

Challenge. Fucking. Accepted.

It was true that he did not actually not hate Yusei, but that never stopped him before. And he was never one to back down on a threat. So he'd spare his life at least, but that didn't mean he wouldn't assert himself.]

Hmph. Fucking idiot.

[He loosened his grip on the handle of the gun, allowing it's position to shift as he slowly aimed a little lower. Holding the barrel again directly against the edge of Yusei's shoulder before letting his index finger press down against the cold metal of the trigger.

A loud echoing sound erupted out, the sound of the gun bouncing off the walls of the small apartment around them.]

[Yusei's eyes track the gun's movement out of the corner of his eye, and at the moment he actually wonders if Sanzo's actually going to shoot, the loud bang of the gun echoes in his ears, a dizzying, disorienting sound.

The first idle thought that rings through Yusei's mind is that he's glad he wasn't wearing his jacket-the orange baubles had already gone through enough damage, and he'd never gotten a chance to repair them yet!

The second idle thought is that his shoulder is in hellish pain, a piercing sensation not unlike when shrapnel had impaled his gut not a month before he'd been whisked into Thesa Station.

The third is that he can feel...something, coming from the wound, sluggishly coming out as if the bullet itself was stopping up the flow. His first conscious movement is to put a hand to it, grimacing in pain as he finally registers what just happened.]

Gh-ghh...! You...

[You actually fucking did it. Holy shit.]

Edited 2017-08-24 02:57 (UTC)

[Damn right he did.

Sanzo merely continued to stare with the same blank expression that he held a second ago. It was just a flesh wound, and they lived in a land where medical care worked especially fast. So all in all there was nothing really to worry about. But this hopefully was enough to get the point through.]

So are you going to make this place presentable? Or are you going to continue to stand there and test my limits like a fucking lemur approaching a cliff.

[He pulls back tohe hammer of his gun. A small clicking noise sounding as this time he aimed it at Yuseis thigh.]

Tch.

[Once the initial dizzying jolt of pain is over with, it feels more like a steadying ache than anything else. Still hurts like the dickens, mind, but it's something he can get used to. Probably. Eventually, he straightens himself out. He still doesn't want to compromise with a drunkard, but at the same time...he has some self-preservation. Some. Getting shot tends to remind one of that.]

I...am going to wrap this up, first. [Not enough, though, if he's still intent on negotiating.

He rolls the injured shoulder experimentally, wincing at the splitting pain that resounds anew from the motion, but noting that it doesn't seem to have hit anything vital enough to keep him from moving it. Good. Thank god.]

I'll move this out of your way after that. Not outside, though.

[Goddammit, Yusei.]

Don't bother. Just start cleaning.

[He says as he sluggishly wanders out toward the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. It seems he locked you away from the first aid supplies Yusei, at least for now.

It seems Sanzo was just the type of bitter person to make you suffer for your stubbornness.]

[Bah. Stubborn is as stubborn does, and Yusei will stubbornly find his own way to manage. Probably. As long as he can walk, as long as he can move, work, do something, he'll push past this pain as much as necessary.

First things first is to see what he can do with that bullet wound. He's not stupid enough to try and see if he can prise the bullet out, not only can he not see his injury, he certainly doesn't want to take otu what seems to be the only thing keeping him from bleeding out completly. No bandages here, either...so he'll deal with the thing using a mostly-clean rag he found in the kitchen and sopped up a bit with water. Stuffing it with more rags and tying it somewhat securely at least mostly stops it up, and he can use his other hand now.

First things first...that engine. Lifting something like that was already a bit of a hassle, and it's even more difficult with an arm threatening to bleed all over him at the slightest tear, but he somehow manages to shove it into the bottom of a hall closet. Whatever. It's not in the living room, and it's not outside, so that should be enough for the both of them, huh? But damn, all that effort, and he needs to change out the cloths already...bah.

He'll manage.]

[Oh stop being such a pansy Yusei, it isn't long after the kid had managed to clean the wound himself that Sanzo had emerged from the bathroom. He was still carrying a fairly sour look on his face but at least he no longer seemed aggressive.]

Oy. Brat.

[It looks like he wasn't done talking to you yet.]

[Rude, Sanzo. Who's the one overreacting here, anyway? Yusei closes the closet door before barely turning his head, still wary. Despite everything, his voice somehow manages to remain level.]

What?

drunky monky

Excuse you he is not a monkey.

he didn't call you a monkey. he called you a monk-y. there's totally a difference.

It better be. Monkey is the worst insult known to man.

you sure about that.

definitely.

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