lupusintus | 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚛; INBOX

[ Don't make a fuss or I'll text Mister LaRusso. As if the man saw Robby open his mouth, surely, since there was a protest about to come from him. It takes him out of his fumbling, or rather, he had stopped a moment ago; for a second on Ethan's approach, and then on seeing him go into his pockets. A tension held in his shoulders with the other near, despite Robby telling himself not to overthink this. This isn't a hallucination.

He has to hope that much. ]

I just caught it, [ he at least says, hoping that doesn't count as fussing. But he is showing the man his hand, complying to who holds the power here (a man with Mister LaRusso's phone number), and he isn't going to try picking up groceries one-handed.

Instead, he watches Ethan and his hand, chewing on the inside of his lip. Either sulking about the fuss or the mess. Why not both?

(Why not even more?) ]

I'm not the type of man who shares other people's secrets, even with someone I respect.

[ In short; his secret is safe with him, he's not about to rat him out -- but he wishes he could see the face he was making when he thought he was going to. He flashes him a quick, mischievous smile, before taking hold of his hand so he can get to work tending to it. A dirty trick for sure but it was effective ruse, he probably wouldn't have let him closer otherwise.

The tension, however, is something he can't and won't ignore. ]

See? I'm real, I wouldn't be able to grab you if I wasn't.

[ Not entirely true, he's still dealing with fond memories of the shade on the second floor who decided to try and wring his neck. Now that he's closer, Robby might be able to make out the faint outline of the finger marks still clinging to his neck, peeking out from under his collar. He's not exactly trying to hide them, after all. He's already had time to self-destruct over seeing his old (and deceased) friend coming for his life, there's no sense adding to the kid's anxiety by looking skittish himself.

Upon realizing that Robby is correct, it's just a graze, he begins dabbing some ointment on it before tearing off part of the gauze to start the process of wrapping the finger. A small cut but it's better safe than sorry. He doesn't even look up as he chimes in again, only glancing up after he says what he has to say. ]

If you keep biting it like that, it's going to bleed.

[ Robby doesn't argue about real or not real, though the point Ethan uses is one that isn't so convincing, not on its own. But it isn't on its own, Robby knows--hopes--that this is real, so he doesn't speak: he doesn't speak unless he feels the need to, can leave things as they are. He doesn't look at Ethan closely, paying more attention to his hand being held and when he might be able to take it back, and focusing too on his own nerves. Breathe, let them relax.

He doesn't intend to interrupt, but the last of what Ethan says furrows Robby's brow, and, is this some kind of double-meaning?, asks in confusion: ] What?

[ Some of us don't get called out on our mouth habits. ]

Chewing on your lip, I think you've got bigger troubles through.

[ Once he ties the ends of the gauze into a tidy looking knot, he shoots him a raised eyebrow before grabbing the basket for him and straightening up. It isn't like he can't carry his stuff and Robby's; he thinks he might be in need of the continued company, anyway. He's even going to start walking so he doesn't get a second to protest. ]

Do you want to talk about it, or am I going to have to guess?

[ He pretends to ponder, then: ] Halloween?

[ His baffled expression doesn't immediately leave, not embarrassed by the attention to his chewing habits, but more with a quip left in the place where his teeth had been. Really, more than just that; the fact his basket of groceries have been taken, and when Robby lifts onto his feet, the guy is walking?

Honestly, he can't help but scoff, and instead of giving Ethan an actual answer: ] What are you, a teacher where you're from? Or someone's dad?

[ Someone is sounding so fussy right now, Ethan. ]

Defensive, aren't you?

[ No wonder Daniel sticks to him like glue, though he can hardly pass proper judgement when this is the first time he's seen him outside of the diner. He spoke to him once before, maybe gave a friendly tip of the head if they passed one another while he helped them clear the place out. Maybe this is a result of the party, or maybe this is who he is -- he doesn't know for sure.

Either way, he raises both eyebrows at the scoff and eventually holds the basket out to him. Far be it from him to help out if he doesn't want it, he's going to have little say in the continued company, however. Ethan might not be a dad or a teacher, but he has a soft spot for the downtrodden.

He clicks his tongue. ]

That's awfully particular of you but no, neither one. I'm a sharpshooter without his guns who happens to have an eye for recognizing when someone's in trouble. [ A look. ] Even if he doesn't want to talk about it. I figured getting you out of here might help but I'm willing to keep ruffling your feathers if it distracts you.

[ And all-knowing smile follows. What'll it be, Robby? ]

[ Robby takes the basket, not with any particular hurry, or tone to it--just a simple retrieval, his gaze on Ethan curious in a manner, trying to decide his feelings on this guy--he still thinks he'd fit well for an overbearing caretaker, the way he speaks.

But none of that means Robby isn't following, and he doesn't keep his eyes on him the entire time; he needs to watch where he's going, after all. ]

I told people to fuck going to the Halloween party, and the city didn't like it, [ he finally answers the original question. Simple as, really, even if it's lacking in details. Which: ] I kept not going to the party. It kept fucking with my head.

I'm still getting over it.

[ Which one could assume without it being stated, but he says it to himself as much as he does the other--telling himself he needs to get over, stop having that nagging feeling in the back of his head. Robby flexes the finger ointed and covered, feeling the slight sting in the action, but also the fabric around it. ]

[ Once he takes the basket back, Ethan gives him a quick nod of approval (smart choice, kid) and turns to start walking ahead of him again. With something physical to hold onto now, maybe it would help to ground him further and make him realize he's in safer company than he realizes.

Not just because Ethan's old friends with any and all things supernatural. ]

Take it from someone who attended both parties. No matter what decision people made? No one was going to win; the game was rigged from the very beginning. Shouldn't have expected anything less from a holiday synonymous with witches, ghost and goblins.

So am I. I like having my head messed with even less than I like being here without knowing why. [ A muscle in his jaw tenses up. ] You aren't going to get over it in a couple of days, that only happens in stories.

[ There were items Robby had wanted to get before, but right now, after that small slip, the desire to return to it is gone. He doesn't glance at the produce passed; really, he is following a lead. Quiet at first, but: ]

...we knew there'd be the chance of us getting screwed over. I mean--it was 50/50. [ A joke, even if his voice doesn't lift much in mirth. Part joke, but most of all true. ] I think I forgot what I even wanted out of it in the first place. To not have people walking into danger every time it showed up.

So I made my own.

[ Hilarious, really, though Robby's tone sticks to dry. ]

[ The look Ethan gives him, surprisingly, isn't judgmental or disapproving, he actually looks a little impressed. Sorry, Daniel. But this kid has guts, he's not about to drag him down for that. ]

I'd have done the same thing. People get tired of suffering, sometimes fighting back is the best way to make a difference. Otherwise? It's a never-ending cycle of living your life under the heel of someone else's boot.

[ Normally he would reach over and put a hand on his shoulder, but he isn't sure if it would be wise as Robby still seems a bit jumpy. ]

It was reckless but admirable. You tried to look out for people, some of whom you didn't even know. That's a hell of a thing to do, ki-- [ Not kid, Ethan. He knows his name, so he'll use it. ] Robby.

[ Robby listens to Ethan's words, though his own feelings on the whole thing after the fact are--a continued work in progress. But what does make Robby glance at Ethan, even give the smallest huff of what might be amusement is that near kid.

Never heard someone hold back from calling him that. But it does remind Robby... ]

What should I call you?

[ There's the name he knows, and then there's manners. It's habit, and who knows? A sharpshooter might care. ]

Old habits.

[ Kid would seem demeaning at this point. He's got grit and he wants him to know he respects that. Calling him a kid would, at least in his mind, reenforce the fact that his problems were childish, and they aren't. It certainly has nothing to do with him being from a different time period.

It absolutely does. ]

Anything but teacher or dad. [ He jokes, then: ] Ethan's fine as long as you don't threaten to hit me again.

[ He makes a sound, again, though there's a pause before he recalls, shares fondly: ]

First time I talked to Mister LaRusso, I threatened to punch him too. More of a threat, too--I let you off easy.

[ If we're going to rank ready-to-fight reactions of Robby Keene's life, apparently. But, with a dip in his tone: ]

You, um, close to him? Mister LaRusso. Was wondering if you saw him through the stuff with the university.

Well, then, thank you for taking it easy on me. I'd hate to meet you in a dark alley.

[ The similarities just keep stacking up, he muses, as he tries to figure out a way to put this kindly. ]

Must be something about him. He snuck up on me in the graveyard when I first arrived and, without knowing I didn't have them, I went to draw my guns. He gave me an earful to say the least, made me feel like I was a kid again getting scolded by his father for getting into some mischief.

[ But close to him? He had grown to respect Daniel, sure. ]

I saw him, he walked up on me punching one of the decorations and gave me another lecture. [ He gives him a hold up gesture before he says anything. No judging him hitting inanimate objects without hearing him out first. ] To be fair, it looked like someone from home that isn't a friendly face. I wasn't about to apologize for it. Turns out it's easy enough to distract him if you tease him about something, his costume made for a nice target.

Mr. LaRusso comes off at the type of man who cares more about other people than he does about himself. How'd I do? Hit the nail on the head, didn't I?

[ His eyebrows raised at the (first) shared story, trying to imagine the scenario of guns drawn on Mister LaRusso of all people. But yeah, he thinks he can imagine that: Mister LaRusso absolutely losing it if he didn't think he was going to get shot for doing so. He's seen how he can be when he gets mad.

(It's been a while.)

But there's no pre-judgment going into the second story, his facial expressions softer--because even something as simple as decorations in this place (and the process of punching them) isn't to be trusted.

He kinda wants to ask about the decorations. Maybe later. First, answering the question about Mister LaRusso takes a second for Robby to consider. ]

I mean... I always knew him as a sensei. He always tried to do what he thought was best for everyone, but-- [ But. He pauses, just for a beat. ] Some stuff happened before he got here... I don't know coming here did him any favours.

[ It didn't do many people favours, but it's his way of expressing there being something troubling about the man, as if it's an answer for Ethan's assessment. A man who cares about others more than himself.

Is he? Or is it because he's been knocked down? That being stuck here is like hell? ]

[ At the eyebrow: ] Look, I'm not proud of it. It's not like he knew he was walking up on a man who was expecting a fight. I was looking at a statue that had the face of a friend, I thought someone was messing with my head. He just had poor timing. Helping out at the diner was my way of trying to make it up to him.

Our secret. Or else he might make me wash the dishes for a month.

[ Totally Daniel's fault, who sneaks up on a guy wearing a gun belt? Different times, he supposes. At least he was smart enough to keep his distance when he walked up on him the second time. Turns out an old dog can be taught. ]

He's a tough man to get a read on, I'm going to liken it to him being stubborn. Do you think he's the type of man who would talk if someone offered an ear? It's not my place to demand his story but maybe he would be more forthcoming to someone he's not concerned about worrying.

[ And who isn't a kid, sorry Robby. ]

If you two are as close as I think you are, he probably puts on a smile the second you walk into the room and says everything's alright. He's a mother hen, that's for sure. [ Except, unlike a real one, it seems like Daniel's decided to keep this little chick rather than send him on his way after six weeks. If he had spoken with Robby as much as he had to Daniel, he might inquire about why. ]

I don't know what it'd take--you can try. [ Robby isn't unaware of his position that an older guy wouldn't be forthcoming about their feelings, and it's what has him guessing, talking with some uncertainty. Does Mister LaRusso talk to people? Has he had opportunities to? What does he think about? Worry about?

Other than him and every other kid. ]

...He's gotta have the same problems most people do. [ He glances at Ethan, and thinks--or wants to think--that it's a generalisation that resonates, or at least makes sense. ] We're stuck in this city where we can't do anything about what happens, and people around us get hurt. Some are just...used to this, or we gave up making a big deal about it, and what's talking gonna change about the fact you can't do anything about it?

[ And that's without getting personal about Mister LaRusso's home life before coming here, which isn't something Robby wants to share. That's for Mister LaRusso to. ]

I know it must bother him. ...A lot.

I'm a stubborn man myself, I'm nothing if not determined.

Talking will let him know that, despite everything going on, he isn't facing it alone. None of us are. People are going to get hurt whether we're here or not, dwelling on it does little more than make it worse. Concentrating on the here and now is what we need to do, especially if we're trying to avoid a repeat of Halloween.

This place can't win forever.

No man likes to feel powerless, not when they're used to being the strongest one in the room, but even they need help sometimes. Whether they realize it or not. [ Does he knows this from experience? Absolutely. ] At the end of the day, the only thing we have is the people we trust, and he trusts you. Even if he won't talk to us, just being there can be a comfort and a distraction.

[ It's the latter of what Ethan says that has the most effect on Robby, when there's too much in the air about the city for Robby to find comfort. But being there for Mister LaRusso--he looks down at his basket of frozen goods briefly, the mozarella sticks and pizzas. ]

...I'm gonna talk to him. After I see someone. [ He lifts up the basket in gesture. ] But I know, you know--he'll keep things from me. [ And he gives a nod to Ethan, since he just said as much already. Mister LaRusso is the smile and the man (the adult) that will always be alright. Surely. ] Some things are hard to talk about. No matter who you are.

[ And maybe there's things, too, Robby isn't sure he wants to say or burden Mister LaRusso with. Even though he might be the adult, his teacher, his sensei. To be vulnerable with another can be a challenge. ]

I won't keep you, then. [ Mozzarella sticks and pizza are not a balanced diet, he would judge him but the idea of being called a dad again shuts him up. ]

Just remember that you're the only person here from his home and that counts for something. I may not be as forthcoming as I should be to the two people I followed here but I trust them above anyone else. If something is on their minds, I let them know I'm here when they are ready to talk.

I know. Be patient with him and maybe, when you're ready, you can tell him about what's bothering you too. He might worry but it would give you both some common ground. Easier said than done, I realize, but it's a thought.

[ leave his pizzas and mozzarella sticks alone, DAD!!!!!!!

There might be plenty to be talked about, topics and subjects that Robby doesn't know if would do better being out in the open when there's little that be done (even if Ethan says that what they can't do shouldn't be stressed about); but he'll have time to think about it, once he's had more time to feel right again in his own skin, his own head.

So, slow as it is to come, Robby eventually tugs on a small smile that he looks at Ethan with. ]

...Sure. I'll...see how it goes. [ See what even talking to Mister LaRusso will mean, or be, after seeing nothing but hallucinations about him. ] Thanks--and for seeing how he's doing, too.

[ And there's more he thinks to say, but he holds his tongue; not one to speak openly or easily about concerns that are personal, though he's often thought about it himself. The event that brings hesitance to Robby when it concerns Mister LaRusso.

So, instead, with some edge of humour: ] I'll tell you how it goes?

[ A semi-serious offer, and only offered at all because maybe Ethan cares enough to want to know. He seems like he might. ]

[ BOY. Do you want to be grounded? Nothing but Lean Cuisines and lukewarm water for a week.

It might be a small smile but it screams victory to him, so he nods and steps back, stuffing a hand into his pocket while the other swings his own basket idly. He's been so busy trying to comfort Robby that he might have forgotten what he came here for in the first place. No matter, it's worth it to leave him in better shape than he found him.

After Halloween, this is probably the best he's felt. ]

No need to thank me, I just happened to be walking by. If he reacts badly, I'll let you hit me. [ He adds quickly: ] He won't but I figured you'd appreciate the offer, nonetheless.

I'll keep an ear out, then, and I'll do you the same courtesy when I talk to him. You going to be okay getting back? I keep odd hours, don't be afraid to reach out if something happens in the near future.

I'll be okay, [ he reassures. ] I'll try 'n' be less jumpy if I see people. City's shit with how big and open it is.

[ Easier to get startled, even when you tell yourself to keep your head down and don't focus on other people--it's harder to dismiss the appearance of them when they're a rarity in an otherwise empty city.

But he acknowledges the last offer with: ] I'll call if I need it. [ He raises his hand holding his basket. ] --or for that hit.

[ He's only holding up the basket, but surely a hand holding a basket is more threatening than his spare one. But with it--and with a grimace much like a smile--Robby starts walking again, to continue on to where the shopping bags are and to get on with his trip.

to eat pizza and mozzarella sticks with his girlfriend. ]

𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚛; INBOX

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