genessia | Housecleaning

Entry tags:

Housecleaning

WHO: Mercury Black and Yang Xiao Long
WHAT: In exchange for three favors ~~and choosing Marry over Shag~~, Mercury helps Yang clean up the old RWBY house. It's like they're starting to become friends or something.
WHEN: October 7th, 2017
WHERE: Genessia City

Houses were funny things. When people stopped living in them, they seemed to fall into disrepair, gathering dust, mold, and dirt seemingly much faster than they did when they were being used. It was as if they got lonely without people around.

Yang wasn't sure if she'd wind up living in this place permanently. She'd wanted to, because it was a goal they'd all worked toward years ago when she was first kicking around Genessia, and she liked the idea of falling asleep in a place that was likely still full of good memories.

But...

As she'd walked through the rooms, hearing the soft creak of floorboards and little else, she knew it wasn't going to satisfy that longing deep inside of her, the need for things to be what they once were. Blake and Ruby weren't here. Weiss was...different. Yang wasn't even sure her teammate still regarded her as a teammate anymore, and it was a strange, lonely feeling. Both Weiss and Sun didn't seem all that amenable to the possibility of renting the vacant house out to anyone else other than Yang, and the thought of being alone in a big empty space just didn't mesh well with who Yang was, or what she wanted to be.

Still, however things managed to shake out, she did want to clean it up so that it was comfortable and cozy...well, as "cozy" as a house of that size could be anyway...if not for herself then for Weiss. Yang had spent the previous days gathering up a host of supplies for the job -- dust cloths, laundry and dish detergent, a broom, a mop, sponges -- so that the place would be as good as new when she was finished. It was a big job for just one person, but honestly? Yang was looking forward to it. She had full use of both hands now, and she was so glad she didn't have to sweep with just her left arm anymore.

The addition of Mercury as a second helper was unexpected. She really hadn't believed him to be the kind of guy who was on board with any of this, but their playful banter had led to an arrangement of sorts. He'd help her out with the chores, and she'd owe him three favors to be agreed upon in the future. ...And there would be pineapple pizza and soda too, to seal the deal. She wasn't sure when he'd arrive to get started, but as for Yang herself, she headed out at daybreak, a stereo in one hand, and a bucket holding the last of the cleaning materials in the other. Her loose-fitting cargo pants were comfortable for housework, as was the snug orange tanktop that bared her right metal arm to the world. Yang's wild blonde hair was tied up into a thick ponytail to keep it out of the way, since the last thing she wanted was her pride and joy tumbling into the toilet while she was scrubbing out the water stains.

She made a list of everything that needed to be done so each item could be crossed off. The chores were separated by room, with asterisks next to the things she wanted to prioritize. After all, the weather was fine for today, but those clouds hinted that rain might be on the horizon tomorrow, so the outdoor chores had to be done first.

Planting the boombox on the counter and cracking open the windows so she could hear her music loud and clear, she cranked up the volume and got to work.

Moving from bedroom to bedroom, she pulled the sheets and blankets from the beds, gathered the towels from the bathrooms and linen closets, and bundled everything into one big pile in the laundry room. There was only one machine, which meant it would take hours to finish every load. Best to get that going since she could work on other things while the machines did their job. Then she grabbed a stepladder from the garage, filled a bucket with soapy water, and tossed a big yellow sponge inside.

And that was how Mercury would find Yang, with the ladder propped up against the house wall. The bucket was balanced on the top step, and she was busily engaged scrubbing the grime off of the windows. Thick suds coasted down her arm, tracing the grooves of her painted arm and dripping from her elbow. Most of the windows were already washed down, still wet and glistening in the morning sun, and needed only to be rinsed with the coil of garden hose she'd hooked up to the spigot.

The window on the side of the garage had been broken, so she'd left that one alone except to seal it with a sheet of plastic and duct tape. Mercury was good with machines, maybe he was able to fix it. She figured she'd ask once he arrived.

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Yang watched him bound away with strength and grace. "...I really should have seen that one coming," she murmured to herself with a lopsided grin. And she wasn't just referring to his acrobatics.

Hm...~

She shot him one last amused glance and shook her head before picking up the ladder and moving it to the next window. She'd already finished most of the work, might as well complete the task before moving to the next.

Plunging the sponge into the bucket, she leaned in to scrub at the window, making sure to dig in at the corners. "Who taught you how to do all this anyway?" she called up to him while keeping her eyes on her work. He'd fallen in with Cinder's company and no one seemed to have raised a big stink about it. If he was an orphan, where'd he pick up the skills?

He lowered himself to squat at the roof's edge, perching low enough to start grabbing whatever had collected in the gutters to toss it off to the ground below. It was leaves and junk anyway, it was all natural. Probably good fertilizer. Hopefully that was fine with her.

"Self-taught," he replied matter-of-factly, "I didn't count on people to do things for me, and you know the saying - if you want something done right, do it yourself."

No objections from below, so long as he didn't lob any of the gunk into her hair. She did tip back just enough to catch sight of him, looking like a hipster gargoyle on the edge of the roof. Geez, so he didn't even have a dad around to teach him that kind of stuff. Or if he did, his dad was probably more like Weiss's -- clean, and professional, not the sort to dirty his hands with commoner things.

She was growing more and more curious about him, and where he came from. Still reluctant to talk about the legs, though, so that was likely a sore spot to avoid for now.

"So are you really from Haven?" she asked, going for another dip with the sponge before dragging it down the glass. "Any brothers or sisters? There's still a lot I don't really know about you."

She was getting a little too curious - and he was trying, to be fair, to not shut down each and every question about his past. But some things were a little too touchy. Some things hit a little to close to wounds that had never closed, even if they're closer to doing so now than ever before.

Maybe he'd be ready to really talk about it one day not too far from now.

"Yeah. I lived in the mountains. No siblings. Next question."

This would not be the day he talked about his father - but by suggesting that she was free to keep asking, at least he hasn't shut down the conversation altogether. All the while he keeps at his work, moving gradually along the rooftop to keep tossing gunk from the gutter.

That might explain his ease at being in high places, she supposed. And she had no difficulty picking up on his signals. Nothing too personal. Keep it easy, but keep it coming.

"All right," she said, and her gaze flicked up at him again. "Favorite foods, do you prefer cats or dogs, and do you wear boxers or briefs?"

Maybe if she snuck in that last one just so, she'd finally have the answer to the question that had stuck with her from so long ago.

She caught on quick - the flurry of completely different questions, both in subject and tone, catches him just in time to keep his mood from drifting to something a little darker. Draws a laugh out of him, even, shaking his head as he keeps at his work. He appreciates, silently, that she chose not to pry.

"In reverse order: Boxers. Cats. Popcorn and the blood of my enemies."

He peeks down at her from the rooftop, lips quirking into a quizzical little grin.

"Now you answer the same thing back to me."

Boxers. "Knew it," she smirked triumphantly. "Please tell me they're white with little red hearts." One couldn't beat the classics after all.

She wrung out the sponge, a little pleased that he turned the questions back on her. Better that they got to know each other instead of making everything one-sided, otherwise she really would feel like she was prying.

"Oatmeal." He could laugh if he wanted, but there was just something so comforting about a nice warm bowl of the stuff on a chilly morning. "I like both pets, but back home we've got a dog with stumpy little legs. He's super cute."

As for the last question, she grinned coyly up at him from beneath her lashes. "Satin. Black. Hiphuggers."

Oatmeal. Not much to say about that, he doesn't really feel one way or the other about it. Her being a dog person - he shrugs. Cats are more low-maintenance. That's better for his lifestyle. And as for boxers or briefs--

Oh.

Oh ho.

He offers a thoughtful hum, nodding as if approvingly. His imagination's not incapable of picturing it. Not a bad look on her.

"So free with the details! If you're really interesting in knowing how mine look, you'll have to check for yourself some day."

He leans over the roof's edge a bit. flashing teeth.

"We'll compare."

Yang barked a short laugh. "Oh, that is not happening any time soon!" she grinned, chucking the wet sponge at his head since he was nice enough to poke it into throwing range. Of all the things to be mysterious about!

She pitched the sponge a little faster than she intended. Honestly she thought he'd catch it, given his reflexes, but instead she gaped as it bounced off the side of his head. With some of the grey spikes plastered back with soapy water and others swirled up in a goofy disarray, Yang could do nothing but stare in abject delight.

Mercury's hair was messed up. This was the greatest day of her life.

"How about that...I didn't miss a spot that time!"

He's off-guard, and no one is more surprised by that fact than he is. Her playful banter had actually gotten him to lower his walls, so to speak, so he's not at all prepared for the sponge that comes at him like a missile, splatting against the side of his head unopposed.

...

Well, not immediately opposed.

"You might have, actually. Don't worry. I'll get it."

He lobs the sponge back at her - its path isn't nearly as quick or direct, traveling in a higher arch, but it was never meant to hit her. Only to draw her eyes up and away for long enough that he can spring back down to the ground below, right next to the hose that was ready to rinse off the windows.

Instead, as his hand snatches the nozzle up and twists it on to full blast pointed straight at Yang, it'll hopefully be used to wash the smile off her face.

Well. No one could say Yang didn't have it coming. And she was on top of the ladder too, meaning there was no easy escape. Realizing this, her eyes went wide, and her arms snapped protectively up to cover her face.

"Agh, you jerk!" she laughed, one eye winced shut against the spray of water bouncing off of her crossed arms. She was a sitting duck as long as she stayed up there, so it was time to come down.

Yang vaulted off of the ladder, arching her back and kicking her legs up over her head for better momentum. The bucket on top of the ladder wobbled, but stay put as Yang hit the ground in a sideways roll. Pushing off with her foot, she zigged right, zagged left, and came at him low with a sliding kick.

Edited 2017-10-10 04:21 (UTC)

"That's me! Jerkury Black."

He doesn't have a lot of time to laugh it up, what with Yang incoming and all, coming at him like a sidewinder. Boy, it hadn't taken long at all for this to deviate from house cleaning. Almost like it was inevitable that something like this would happen when they were in proximity for long enough.

Almost like maybe, just maybe, he'd been counting on that to begin with.

He has a brief moment before she closes the distance between them, so he does what makes sense - reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair, correcting the way it hangs as best he can before flipping up and over her incoming attack. He sprays the hose at her one more time in passing before his feet hit solid ground, and it's clear from the direction he takes off in that his next objective is the bucket she had just abandoned.

All that soapy water needed a target, after all, and he didn't plan on that target being a window anymore.

She figured he would jump, especially if she went low. Skidding over the wet grass, she planted her hands on the lawn to stop herself once she reaches=d a coil of hose to seize it and twist, using a kink to stop the flow of water.

"Look! This is getting kinky!" she crowed, as if the pun were actually a good thing.

But it wasn't. Not even a little bit.

Even so, she still felt proud of herself for pulling a tactical move this time. A way around the problem instead of charging right into trouble, she was getting bet-- Wait, where was he going? For the ladder?

Yang gasped.

For the bucket.

"Oh don't you dare!" she warned, giving the hose a sharp tug to either pull him back, or get him to drop the hose so she could try to hook him with it and pull him away from his target.

Edited (Messed up the tense. It wasn't intensetional!) 2017-10-10 13:42 (UTC)

He might have come up with a solution if she hadn't shouted that god-awful pun - which he doesn't even think is a pun at first, turning his head back in hopes of seeing something questionable. That's enough to slow him down before he can reach the ladder, though he's quickly disappointed to find that no, "kinky" didn't mean anything worth feasting his eyes on in this case - he's about to turn back and continue his progress when he feels the hose go taut.

She has it.

Fine.

He lets go, nimbly leaping up to the highest rung on the ladder, the coil of the hose missing his leg by mere inches. Still, even as he grabs the bucket by the handle, he's aware that there's a lot of distance between them again - and now Yang has the hose.

He's not exactly in an advantageous position.

"One chance, Blondie - throw in the towel. You don't want this to get any messier than it already is, do you?"

"Hmmmm...that depends," she mused, cocking her head to the side as she pulled the nozzle toward her, hand over hand until she was finally armed. He might have had the high ground and chemical warfare, but she could cover more distance. He'd shot her from this spot, so she knew she could reach him as long as he was up on that ladder.

"I guess we could negotiate the terms of your surrender~" She grinned, hunkering further and bending her knees, fully prepared to dodge the bucket if he dared to lob it at her. "What are you prepared to give up to avoid getting thoroughly soaked, Mercury?"

There was no way she was going to back down. Yang hated to lose and would sulk for days.

At this range, there was no way to avoid getting hit if she opened fire - not without darting off to the side, and even then Yang would have plenty of time to track him. He studies her for a moment, considers their positioning. Him, perched atop the ladder. Her, a distance away, with a ranged form of attack.

There's a parallel in his head, and he realizes what he has to do.

"Well..." he begins, rolling his eyes in thought as he slides down the ladder, bucket still in hand, "let me think about that for a second." He tilts his head one way, then the other. "I think..."

And that's all. He bursts forward again, fully expecting her to blast the hell out of him with that hose - just like, in his memory, Amber had doused him with flame, and so his legs rise in front of himself similarly to shield his body as best he can from the expected attack from the hose. If it all goes how he thinks it might, he won't be throwing the bucket or even its contents at her.

He'll dunk it right down on her head.

Yang was considering the possibilities. She could demand that he fly the white flag of truce, which just so happened to be the color of his shirt. Convenient, that. Or she could finally get him to spill the beans on his boxer patterns...

Ohhhh, no, he was not coming down from that ladder. "Take one more step--" she warned, but even before she could fire off a warning squirt from the hose, he came rocketing straight for her.

Forget the warning shot, then, she let him have it! And that was the wrong move. Too late did she realize she should have rolled to the side to let him sail past her before nailing him with the water. Yang dropped the hose with a last ditch roundhouse kick, sneaker meeting sneakers. The best she could hope for was to throw off his trajectory, but she was quickly coming to terms with the knowledge that she'd be wearing that bucket and its contents.

It was enough, at least, to keep him from getting the bucket completely over her head like he'd planned to, which is kind of a shame because that would have been hilarious. The water she hits him with soaks his jeans (which he'll probably regret later) and a fair amount splashes onto his shirt (which she probably won't regret at all). As she knocks him just slightly off-course the bucket comes down to dump its contents right onto (into?) the front of her shirt, soaking her relentlessly in passing before he comes skidding to a stop on the opposite side of her.

The bucket, now empty save a few lingering suds, is tossed aside as he offers a grandiose bow to his opponent.

"No one can say you didn't try, Yang."

Smug as fucking smug can be.

Yang gasped from the sheer shock of the cold water exploding over the front of her body. Her elbows jerked up as she hunched forward, taking a few quick and ragged breaths. That water was not warm!

And he had the audacity to bow...to even think this battle was over.

She plowed right into him the second he dropped his gaze with a feral grunt, grappling for a wrist and thrusting her forearm against his collarbone. He was so going down for this.

"Who died and declared you the victor?" she grinned through grit teeth. "If I'm going down I'm taking you with me!"

He'd expected her shock to last a moment longer, but he barely has time to utter an "oh" before she's on him. Her grip is strong and she's aiming for just the right places to try and throw him off-balance, but he's adaptable - he can easily catch himself on one hand and flip this whole thing around, no problem. He shifts his weight a bit to get ready to do just that--

His foot slips.

Eyes go a little wider at the realization, but that's fine. He'll use his hand and his hand alone, then. Not as easy, mind you, but for someone as acrobatic as he is it's still not an issue, and--

His hand slips.

His back hits wet grass with a thud, a huff of breath escaping his lungs from the impact. He stares up at her for a moment, considering just how to reverse the situation. It's not easy - he can't get his leg in between them with how close she is, with her weight against him, and it's not like he can see much around himself from how much of his view is taken up by her face, her eyes.

It occurs to him, maybe, that he shouldn't be in such a hurry to get up.

"So you did," he cooed, head tilting a little bit as something sly touches his lips. "And what, pray tell, are you going to do with me?"

"Hmmmmm...that is the question of the day, isn't it?" They were close, awfully close, and that was absolutely fine with Yang. He was honestly a good-looking guy, fun to flirt with and fully capable of keeping her on her toes. He was also warm.

She shifted her knees to straddle his dangerous legs, knowing he might try to hook one around her and reverse the situation. No, she liked where she was just fine.

Her finger tapped lightly on his captured wrist as she shifted her gaze to the hose lying beside them. "I could make you drink from the hose," she mused with a mischievous little grin. "I mean, all that running around must have made you really thirsty."

He shows no outward sign of distress at being captured, mostly because there is no distress at this situation. He's pretty comfortable where he is, even if she's dripping on him a bit thanks to the bucketful of water he splashed all over her moments ago. There are worse things in life.

"Right, I'm the thirsty one."

It's clear, from the gleam in his eye and the smarm in his voice, that he's discussing a very different kind of thirst.

"Besides, you can do better than that. Make it worth the effort."

"True, I could... I mean, it should be something that benefits me too." Yang grinned, leaning her face just half an inch closer to his.

"...Like hosing you down and tossing you into a wet t-shirt contest. I mean, you've got the white shirt already. We might win a sweet prize."

She was enjoying this way too much. How often did she get to flirt and tease without someone immediately surrendering?

--Holy crap, she was flirting with Mercury Black. When the hell did that happen? The realization hit her hard, and she blinked down at him for a moment. Wasn't it just a week ago she was barely holding herself back from driving a fist into his face?

Mercury, for his part, is completely ignorant to Yang's internal debate. From his perspective, this was all better-than-expected territory, and he wasn't the type to question things when they were rolling in his favor. If she decided not to break his legs, great. If she decided not to break his legs and also that he was pretty hot, even better.

So he cranes his neck a bit, his face lifting as if threatening to meet hers, but stopping just shy of actually doing so.

"As if you don't want the shirt taken out of the picture completely."

Whatever happened, he'd have fun with it. Some things never change, as far as the way he operates.

Yang was silent for a moment, a slight amused smile touching the corners of her lips. She could feel the movement of his breath, both ghosting over her face and in the rise and fall of his chest. Actually she was speechless, and definitely needed a moment to process this, but he was making that somewhat difficult.

"See," she murmured, her eyes searching his before dropping to study the shape of his mouth, then lifting again. "We are getting to know each other..."

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

The loud alert of the washer went off, signifying that its load was finished. Yang blinked, jerking her head up to stare at the house. Oh. Right, the cleaning. This was all moving a little too fast anyway. "Laundry's done." She grinned, easing her grip on his arm as she lifted herself up and off of him. "You escaped this time. But this isn't over," she winked.

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