[ and he is. because of the heat, all the windows are thrown open but the lack of breeze has the curtains hanging limply in the humidity. even still, the sound of joe humming drifts through the open windows, occasional snatches of some out of tune poppy lyrics. he can't sing, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm!
when glimmer reaches their floor she gets an automatic ping to sync to the music joe is playing via implant so she can discover this grown adult man is jamming to the 26th century's one direction.
the door swings open and joe beams at glimmer, curls perfectly curls despite the humidity. there might be that cloud of grief lingering (that he is clearly trying to shove away with cheerful pop music) but he is still happy to see glimmer. ]
[ A train ride later, Glimmer finds her ears flooded with upbeat pop music. The awful weather has her sweating, of course, and she's dressed to fight the heat in cropped short-sleeve shirt and shorts--but even that doesn't keep the humid heat at bay. When she sees Joe, she smiles. It's genuine and happy even with the weight she's carrying. ]
[ his arms scoop around her in a very wonderful hug. the man has had a millennia to practice and his hugs are warm and secure and if hugs healed he would hold her all night, but as it is he only gives her a tight squeeze before letting her go and inviting her fully into the flat.
nothing matches, well worn hand me downs, the worst of the wear hidden by blankets and the detritus of five people calling this place home. there's a sock clung by static electricity to the curtains, assorted paintings and sketches on homemade paper hung to dry on a clothesline strung up over the sink, a green and white football sat on the middle of the sofa as if waiting patiently for a game in the park.
joe gestures to the kitchen where the table has been painted with the backgammon board. ]
Would you like some tea or water? There is probably some vodka in Andy's room.
[ The hug is not unwelcome, but it's not quite expected either. As Glimmer is tugged in against Joe--he's taller, broader, sturdier--there's a brief flicker of memory. She wonders if this is what her father's hugs felt like and then returns the gesture with a fierceness, hugging the man tight for a moment before she's released to take a look at the flat. She wanders towards the small kitchen and the waiting table. ]
Tea sounds great.
[ Then a small smile. ]
So does vodka, honestly.
[ She drops into her seat and leans back with a low sigh and fans at herself with one hand, trying to push away some of the slick, humid heat that clings to everything in New Amsterdam at the moment. ]
[ shuffling around the kitchen, instead of putting the kettle on, joe hauls a pitcher out of fridge. it's full of mint leaves and ice and almost immediately starts condensating when faced with the heavy heat. ]
I'm not sure how they's taste together, Book might have something else. Give me a mo'.
[ without further ado, he ducks into one of the bedrooms, groaning as he rifles through someone else's shit. god damn, sébastien. eventually, with a satisfied "aha!", joe returns with a bottle of something as clear as vodka. ]
I'll take your word for it. I mostly drank a little wine back home.
[ And a lot of other stuff in the Aerie. Glimmer shoves that thought and those memories aside. She's here to spend time with a friend. She smiles, leaning her chin into one hand and studying the board in front of her for a moment as she waits for Joe to return. When he does, she raises an eyebrow. ]
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Would you like to come here? We could meet in the park or at your and Ellie's place as well.
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no subject
[ and he is. because of the heat, all the windows are thrown open but the lack of breeze has the curtains hanging limply in the humidity. even still, the sound of joe humming drifts through the open windows, occasional snatches of some out of tune poppy lyrics. he can't sing, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm!
when glimmer reaches their floor she gets an automatic ping to sync to the music joe is playing via implant so she can discover this grown adult man is jamming to the 26th century's one direction.
the door swings open and joe beams at glimmer, curls perfectly curls despite the humidity. there might be that cloud of grief lingering (that he is clearly trying to shove away with cheerful pop music) but he is still happy to see glimmer. ]
no subject
Hey! How's it going?
no subject
[ his arms scoop around her in a very wonderful hug. the man has had a millennia to practice and his hugs are warm and secure and if hugs healed he would hold her all night, but as it is he only gives her a tight squeeze before letting her go and inviting her fully into the flat.
nothing matches, well worn hand me downs, the worst of the wear hidden by blankets and the detritus of five people calling this place home. there's a sock clung by static electricity to the curtains, assorted paintings and sketches on homemade paper hung to dry on a clothesline strung up over the sink, a green and white football sat on the middle of the sofa as if waiting patiently for a game in the park.
joe gestures to the kitchen where the table has been painted with the backgammon board. ]
Would you like some tea or water? There is probably some vodka in Andy's room.
no subject
Tea sounds great.
[ Then a small smile. ]
So does vodka, honestly.
[ She drops into her seat and leans back with a low sigh and fans at herself with one hand, trying to push away some of the slick, humid heat that clings to everything in New Amsterdam at the moment. ]
no subject
[ shuffling around the kitchen, instead of putting the kettle on, joe hauls a pitcher out of fridge. it's full of mint leaves and ice and almost immediately starts condensating when faced with the heavy heat. ]
I'm not sure how they's taste together, Book might have something else. Give me a mo'.
[ without further ado, he ducks into one of the bedrooms, groaning as he rifles through someone else's shit. god damn, sébastien. eventually, with a satisfied "aha!", joe returns with a bottle of something as clear as vodka. ]
Gin will be better with mint.
no subject
[ And a lot of other stuff in the Aerie. Glimmer shoves that thought and those memories aside. She's here to spend time with a friend. She smiles, leaning her chin into one hand and studying the board in front of her for a moment as she waits for Joe to return. When he does, she raises an eyebrow. ]
I don't think I've had gin before.