paradisalost | (no subject)

[Max wanders into the kitchen, looking for something to do, and/or eat, not really anything specific, and happens to spot the can on the kitchen counter.]

Huh.

[curiosity gets the better of her and she goes to pick it up]

[The can itself is rather unremarkable, save for the label on it. "Travis Touchdown" it reads. Whether that's a food, or a brand name, or something else is left to the imagination, as that's all there to read.

It does, however, have a pull tab on the top.]

People should learn not to leave their crap out on the counter.

[cuz that makes it fair game in her mind. and again, curiosity killed the cat, because she's reaching for the pull tab to try and get it open]

[All it seems to take is for it to be opened a crack, before the can starts shaking and, of all things, music starts to play. Catchy music, the kind that sticks in your head and doesn't go away.

Or would, if it wasn't for the fact that a few seconds later, it appears the top of the can explodes out, as a dropkick spews forth from it towards the chin of whatever poor soul is opening it.]

[even Max's super reflexes are enough to get him away from this one, and she takes the kick before landing on the floor, hard.]

... THE HELL?!

[With some nice acrobatics of his own, the offending dropkicker, one Travis Touchdown, lands on his feet some feet back, catching the can in mid fall with a beam katana and cutting it in two]

DYNAMIC ENTRY, FUCKHEADS!

[ooc: Red is Max, Blue is Travis]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[That sounds like a--]

Where the heck have you been?!

[...SOOBIE?!

You know, it really says something when the sound of a kid chastising a man that just lost everything comforts him beyond reason]

Lil bro? ...That really you?

Really. But seriously, where are you?!

[...He's quiet for a moment. Then he spots the journal.

So it did catch him.]

The kitchen.

Stay put!

[RUNNING RUNNING RUNNING! He nearly slips and crashes thanks to the slush all over his boots, but he's there in no time. BROOOO ;_; ]

Tra-- Travis!!

[When you see him, Subie...suffice to say it's not the same Travis it was last week. He looks a little older, his clothes seem to be a bit higher on the pay grade, and there's a tension to him that wasn't there before.

And on his part...it wasn't until he heard the kid talk that he realized just who it was. He knew the voice, but three years and more death than he knew what to do with has made faces blur. A mesh of victims, which were both his family and his enemies.

Still, he smiled. It seemed a little harder on the surface, but beneath it was good ol Travis still.]

Been a while, Subaru. No. No, it's been way too fucking long.

[Part of him wants to punch Travis for disappearing like that. Part of him just wants to burst into tears again. And another part... just smiles right on back. He's so relieved to see him, differences aside.]

...Where've you been, huh?

[Picks half the can he cut up off the ground, tossing it in hand]

In a can, apparently. [Throws it over his shoulder.] Home. For three years.

[Whatever wtf'd face he had when he heard the can bit is replaced with concern. He's heard about your home, dude]

...

[He knows. And for a moment he just stares back, before coughing and turning to the side]

Yeah. It wasn't a pretty home coming. In a way, I'm glad to be back.

I-I'm glad you're still in one piece.

[But then, if he was gone that whole time...]

Edited 2010-02-06 03:09 (UTC)