[Griffin is on his... 4th can of cheap conbini beer. Sitting against the wall with a leg pulled up against his chest to mournfully rest his arm and head on. He squints at Jason when he announces himself.]
Once Jason's closer, he'd be able to see bruises and raw skin all over Griffin. Knuckles worn down until they were purplish red. A bloody lip against a battered face. And apart from the scent of beer, he stank of sweat.]
Went to the cafe but it was closed so I figured whyyy not. Next bes' thing... instant puddin and beer
Mr. Poetry said he'd get a cake but I know he was joking. Who'd be happy t'have me for thiiis long?...
[Mumbles something along the lines of Thass mine when Jason fishes the keys out of his coat pocket. He's just kinda flopped on whatever he's being leaned against.]
[By some miracle, Griffin holds on. Probably because Jason was a warm body who was blocking most of the wind flying past them, and also probably because he wasn't crazy enough to kick the bike into high gear with its drunk owner riding behind him.
He presses his face into Jason's back and sniffles.]
and coasts to a stop when they get to the hotel, shutting off the engine and kicking down the kickstand, so he can pull griffin off of the motorcycle.]
You've have a rough night, big guy. Let's take a load off.
but he's going to basically carry him to the elevator, his breath coming out in shallow puffs by the time they get inside. he just leans against the wall before hitting a button for avante.]
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Red Bull gives you wings: Shhhhh
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well,
he hasn't figured out how to do that. Sent an accidental selfie instead. But the light from the conbini can be seen behind him.]
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of course, by the time he jumps to the ground beside him, he's definitely extremely pale from the pain.]
Hey.
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Heyyy is the party startin'?...
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[is his bike or his van here, otherwise...
he is still gonna go sit next to griffin, wincing as he sits down.]
Going hard tonight...?
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Once Jason's closer, he'd be able to see bruises and raw skin all over Griffin. Knuckles worn down until they were purplish red. A bloody lip against a battered face. And apart from the scent of beer, he stank of sweat.]
Went to the cafe but it was closed so I figured whyyy not. Next bes' thing... instant puddin and beer
Mr. Poetry said he'd get a cake but I know he was joking. Who'd be happy t'have me for thiiis long?...
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[his leg isn't totally better, but, he'll push himself up. it's fine for now, and he just needed to help Griffin.
which he does by pulling him up by his arm.]
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Aww y'forgot my anniversary Jaybirddd
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[as he starts moving them to the motorcycle]
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I'm like a centa..genarian...
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... That's not how that works.
...
Congrats.
[as they approach the motorcycle.
he kind of wishes his van was here.]
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If I knew it'd end up jus' like back home I shoulda just gone with 'em. Now home's comin here an' I got a mini Credo an' everyone still hates me
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and somehow, finagle himself... and griffin onto it.[]
Hm.
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I almost turned into Piiko... thass bad.
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[but he can pull his arms around him.]
Hold on. Or I'm not giving you back your motorcycle.
[and then he kicks off]
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He presses his face into Jason's back and sniffles.]
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but it means he can feel griffin more, including the sniffling.
but it's going to take them a hot minute to get back to the hotel.]
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he's cuddling]
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and coasts to a stop when they get to the hotel, shutting off the engine and kicking down the kickstand, so he can pull griffin off of the motorcycle.]
You've have a rough night, big guy. Let's take a load off.
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All that gets him is a faceplant onto the ground, though.]
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because he's trying to get him back to avante in one piece...]
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He's just... not gonna move, then. He's sad and limp in Jason's arms.]
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but he's going to basically carry him to the elevator, his breath coming out in shallow puffs by the time they get inside. he just leans against the wall before hitting a button for avante.]
Hey...
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Itss me, isn't it? I'm why everyone leaves... It's all me.
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