[ action | closed ] flowing blood is proof that you're alive

[burning_highway]

Who: Genos and Priss
What: Genos is a demented brave little toaster who doesn't know what 'go away' means. The start of #cyborgshaming.
Where: Priss' apartment
When: Late July
Warnings: Drunken cursing.

- - - - -

The knock to the door came at a bad time. Priss stumbled over an assortment of motorcycle parts, tripped over an engine block, and fell against the door with a curse. She jerked it open with one hand, the other around the neck of a bottle, and stared moodily at Genos for a moment. There were dark marks under her eyes, and her hair was a rat's nest born of the delightful mixture of insomnia and nightmares.

"...No."

Comments

[toaster_puppy]

Genos stared at her, taking in all that was wrong with this image. She didn't look good, not at all, and that meant she needed help right? He had just come here for lessons, she would know that. She would have told him not to come otherwise right? She could have forgotten and he could leave, but she needed help.

He stood there, looking down at her, waiting to see what she would do.

[burning_highway]

Having sufficiently delivered her message in all its eloquent glory, Priss shut the door.

[toaster_puppy]

Well then. Genos hadn't heard a lock click so... He opened the door.

[burning_highway]

"For fuck's sake," Priss had only taken a single step away from the door, and she turned around to face him on slightly wobbly legs. "I said no. That means no lessons today. Besides, it's only tuesday."

It was friday.

[toaster_puppy]

"I take it you haven't been sleeping," Genos replied, stepping into the doorway so the door couldn't be closed on him again. "You've lost a significant chunk of time, at least three days. Are your wounds infected?"

[burning_highway]

"No, I'm drunk," at least Priss was aware of the fact. She put her free hand against his chest and pushed, like that would do anything. "Out."

[toaster_puppy]

"I know you're drunk-" Genos didn't need his scanners to tell that. "-but you can also be missing sleep and suffer from an infection."

He paused as if considering her command, not that he really was. He'd already decided he was helping and he couldn't leave and help!

"No."

[burning_highway]

"I've been dealing with my own wounds for longer than you've been alive, sunshine," Priss gave his chest another futile shove, then turned to stumble away. It was the sleep deprivation that made her clumsy far more than the cheap shit in the bottle. Or what had been in other bottles that now littered the floor. "Nothing's infected, you demented toaster."

[toaster_puppy]

Genos moved forward at once, closing the door behind him, and reaching out a hand to help steady her. The last thing she needed was to crack something tripping over bits of metal. He'd heard that thunk when she hit the door.

"Demented or not you need someone around." Demented toaster, that was a new one. "From what I can tell, your health is degrading quickly. As you dislike doctors I am what you're stuck with. For one you should drink water, not more of that."

[burning_highway]

"The last thing I need is someone around," Priss snarled, jerking away from that steadying hand, "no one asked for you to play doctor, so fuck off."

Oh boy was she in a mood. A mood for solitude and bad booze, anyway.

[toaster_puppy]

"You wouldn't ask," Genos replied bluntly. He let his hand drop but he was going to keep close to her until she was off her feet! Patching up more injuries was not an appealing idea right now.

"Please sit down and I'll get you some water."

[burning_highway]

Priss scoffed, but plopped down on the couch that was the epicenter of scattered bottles. And some unopened ones, too. "I don't care about the hangover, I just want to pass out... and not dream."

[toaster_puppy]

Genos frowned at her but turned to get her a glass of water first. She might not be worried about her health right now but he was! He offered it to her when he returned, looking her over again as he stood there. It was tempting to use his scanners but she was annoyed at him enough, he didn't need to push her temper too far. Not unless he had to.

"So you've been sleeping very poorly." Nightmare he didn't have a fix for. "Is there something I can do to help?"

[burning_highway]

"Besides go away?" Priss took the glass, and knocked the water back in one pull just to maybe get him off her case. When she lowered the empty glass, she added a simple response, "...No."

Part of her didn't want to be alone, but the rest of her did. Especially when her current angst revolved around everyone around her dying. Or wanting her dead!

Or both!

"You should stop giving a shit. It's easier that way."

[toaster_puppy]

"I don't intend to leave or stop caring. Considering your current state it would be irresponsible for me to leave you without being sure of your mental and physical health." That might be a hair hypocritical of him but she needed the help, not him! "I can occupy myself with practice unless you wish to try sleeping again."

[burning_highway]

"Both are shit. Now you can be sure," Priss snarked, and got to her feet again... with a wobble. She went to a nearby table and shoved papers aside -- filled with meticulous, careful notes done in something she couldn't read -- until she found a blank page.

"Are you this much of a nosy busybody with everyone, or am I just special?"

[toaster_puppy]

As he wasn't getting her to stay put, Genos sat down, pulling the guitar case around himself as he did so. He was serious about the practice thing, he needed his lessons! It was important! He could wait until she was doing better for the lessons themselves but practice couldn't wait.

"I am attentive to the health of you and my sensei, that is about it." Genos wasn't that social otherwise. "You are not minding your condition so I should."

[burning_highway]

"Why?" Priss paused in writing something with a marker and squinted over at him as though she could decipher some hidden meaning by looking at him.

[toaster_puppy]

Genos stared back, not to be stubborn but out of curiosity and concern. She was avoiding dreams so she must be having nightmares, she was drinking heavily, not paying much mind to hygiene either... He had plenty of assumptions he could leap to about why she wasn't doing so well but he could wait until she revealed more information.

"Shouldn't I?"

[burning_highway]

"No," the Knight answered very simply -- and emphatically, "you shouldn't."

[toaster_puppy]

"I think I should," Genos replied, unruffled. Content that he was going to be here a while, he started tuning the guitar. Nothing needed much in the way of adjustment but he could pretend.

[burning_highway]

"You're a shit," Priss declared, and finished writing her note. She approached and held it out, the writing facing herself. "Hold this," she said, and pulled out her phone.

[toaster_puppy]

Genos set the guitar down to take the piece of paper, confused. "Is this helpful somehow?"

[burning_highway]

"A little bit," Priss snapped the picture quickly, and then turned away to wobble off, posting the picture to the network as she went.

The sign read:

My name is Genos
and I don't know
what boundaries are.
#cyborgshaming

[toaster_puppy]

As she walked off, Genos scowled at the sign and set to ripping it into progressively smaller pieces. His fine motor movement wasn't poor enough with these arms to keep him from turning the paper into very small confetti.

"Was that helpful?" he asked with exasperation. "You wouldn't ask for help even if you thought you needed it, as I said before."