Rich Goranski (
firewalled) wrote in
come_sailaway2022-09-01 09:14 am
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Entry tags:
[Closed] And of all these angry people in the world
Who: Rich Goranski and Six
When: Post Event
Where: Sports deck, early morning
Summary: Rich swallows his pride and decides to actually thank someone he thought was a major dick
Warnings: probably not much aside from discussion of event aftermath and of trauma responses
Rich is... trying to be better. There's been a lot to deal with, after that hell night in the diner. Reassuring his dads that he wasn't secretly missing an arm, trying to comfort Darcy and Dimitri, who were practically missing arms with how hard they had to fight... even after the initial panic was over and after Rich had slept maybe 12 hours straight, there was still the matter of getting back into a routine, of eating meals without glancing over his shoulder every few moments, and of feeling safe enough to turn the lights out in his cabin at night.
There was still one loose end he hadn't quite tied up, though. (All that other junk he's dealing with? Oh, totally fine. A couple nights' good rest is clearly all you need to sort your mental health out.) Rich had seen who was driving the rescue truck that evening, and he's pretty sure the guy didn't have a deep intimate connection to, like, the weird winged newscaster or the sword fighting ghost girl. No, Six was there for Rich.
Even after Rich had threatened him and fought back against him to the point of dislocating his own shoulder, Six had come to find Rich. And he had done it in César's truck. It seems like the guy really was trying to work with César rather than enacting any sort of revenge... which is just rude, because it means now Rich has to apologize for that first fight, and thank him for not abandoning a snot-nosed kid he probably can't stand the sight of.
He checked in with César to find out where Six usually hangs out, and though it means waking up at the asscrack of dawn, Rich pulls himself to the sports deck during Six's usual training time. He's in sweats of his own, definitely pretending he's just here for a pleasant jog when he coincidentally runs into the intimidating man. And no matter how intimidating he is, Rich also (completely casually and in a way that certainly doesn't betray the time practicing in the mirror to get it right) smiles lightly and waves a hand when he spots Six training.
"Hey! Just going for a morning jog! I didn't know anyone besides losers were up this early!"
Smooth, Goranski. He'll never figure you out now.
When: Post Event
Where: Sports deck, early morning
Summary: Rich swallows his pride and decides to actually thank someone he thought was a major dick
Warnings: probably not much aside from discussion of event aftermath and of trauma responses
Rich is... trying to be better. There's been a lot to deal with, after that hell night in the diner. Reassuring his dads that he wasn't secretly missing an arm, trying to comfort Darcy and Dimitri, who were practically missing arms with how hard they had to fight... even after the initial panic was over and after Rich had slept maybe 12 hours straight, there was still the matter of getting back into a routine, of eating meals without glancing over his shoulder every few moments, and of feeling safe enough to turn the lights out in his cabin at night.
There was still one loose end he hadn't quite tied up, though. (All that other junk he's dealing with? Oh, totally fine. A couple nights' good rest is clearly all you need to sort your mental health out.) Rich had seen who was driving the rescue truck that evening, and he's pretty sure the guy didn't have a deep intimate connection to, like, the weird winged newscaster or the sword fighting ghost girl. No, Six was there for Rich.
Even after Rich had threatened him and fought back against him to the point of dislocating his own shoulder, Six had come to find Rich. And he had done it in César's truck. It seems like the guy really was trying to work with César rather than enacting any sort of revenge... which is just rude, because it means now Rich has to apologize for that first fight, and thank him for not abandoning a snot-nosed kid he probably can't stand the sight of.
He checked in with César to find out where Six usually hangs out, and though it means waking up at the asscrack of dawn, Rich pulls himself to the sports deck during Six's usual training time. He's in sweats of his own, definitely pretending he's just here for a pleasant jog when he coincidentally runs into the intimidating man. And no matter how intimidating he is, Rich also (completely casually and in a way that certainly doesn't betray the time practicing in the mirror to get it right) smiles lightly and waves a hand when he spots Six training.
"Hey! Just going for a morning jog! I didn't know anyone besides losers were up this early!"
Smooth, Goranski. He'll never figure you out now.
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He looked over his shoulder at the kid and raised a brow, a smirk on his lips, the swords currently relaxed at his sides. "So what does that make you?"
He turned his back to Rich and raised his swords. "Doing some last bits of training before anyone else wakes up and needs to use the sports deck. Try to keep clear."
And with that, he refocused on his imaginary enemies, keeping an ear out for Rich's real footsteps. He darted forward, practically a blur with the flash of steel as he tore through his imagined opponents. He switched the magna blades between their usual forms as well as the staff and electromagnet configurations, using the latter configuration to pick up and fling the loose weights into a set of punching bags he'd set up as ranged targets at the far end of the area. He swapped to unarmed combat as well, fists and feet moving almost unnaturally fast.
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He nods for a moment at Six's warning, but when the man turns away, he curses himself. Fuck, this was way too casual. Six obviously thought this was a quick greeting and not a big conversation. Should Rich just give up on talking to him? Should he wait around until he's done? Should he say he's just going to wait around?
He might have learned quite a bit about socializing with people properly, but not with people who clearly didn't want to socialize. Is there something the SQUIP would have said to him? Not that he'd take its advice! Maybe something to do the opposite of?
The SQUIP helpfully offers a sudden shriek of static and Rich winces, rubbing his head. Okay! Awesome. He is 100% on his own here. And he's been hanging around so long with his mouth agape like a particularly stupid fish that it'd be even stupider to say something now! Think, Goranski, think...
He notices Six pull off that electromagnet trick, and clings to it desperately as a lifeline for small talk. "Woah! That's a cool trick. You're pretty fast."
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Six stopped on a straight punch, glancing back over his shoulder at the kid. He straightened up. "I'd hope so. I've been training for most of my life."
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Did he really see saving Rich as something good, or did he just... do what was normal for him? Rich feels his face heating up as he stammers out a response.
"Well yeah, of course. And that's probably just something to shrug off for you, and I get that it's probably poor taste to be proud of yourself or something. But I, um, I still think it's cool. I... still think even stuff that's average to you is pretty awesome, and good. You don't seem like such a bad guy, honestly, besides that one time with the fighting and threatening and everything, and I know I totally did not help in that situation, so..."
Fucking Christ, stop talking, Goranski.
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Honestly, the kid's rambling had been getting on his nerves with him wanting to pinch the bridge of his nose and tell him to get to the point. (What was it with teenagers and rambling? He didn't remember being half as much of a motormouth when he was around that age.)
"You can stop worrying about it. I talked things over with César. He'll never be my favorite person, but I'm not going to slice him into pieces any time soon."
Unless César decided to really push his buttons and try and repeat old mistakes. In which case, Six was going to rat out every single one of the scientist's dirty little secrets that he knew.
"Let it go."
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He sighs in exasperation and shakes his head.
"That's not what I meant. I'm not worried about that. I'm more impressed... you don't like César, but you go out of your way to help save his kid and a bunch of other random brats while you're at it? It... takes a lot of kindness to do something like that."
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"I might have been ranked last, kid, but that doesn't make me 'kind'. I have lines. Not many but they're there.
"Besides, all I really did was drive the truck. I lost one of you kids, in case you forgot. Regardless, if I hadn't gone, César would have since I doubt either of his...companions...can drive stick. Or at all for that matter. César's a non-combatant. He'd be more likely to get himself and the rest of you killed."
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Rich raises an eyebrow, perhaps a bit knowing.
"But you did care, and you did help. You lost one of us, but there was no chance for you to turn around in that mess. That was an accident. Coming to get us clearly wasn't."
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Honestly, what was it with this kid?
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He smirks and shakes his head.
"Don't worry, I get it. If you want to think of yourself as a monster, I'd be a hypocrite if I called you out for it. I just... thought I'd say thanks, at least. I'll appreciate what you did, if you won't appreciate it yourself."
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Did César even know about how the ranking system worked? Six had likely told Rex at some point during the period he couldn't remember, and Rex likely would have passed on that knowledge to his brother.
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He's very clearly lacking knowledge on what that really means for Six, besides the fact that he's powerful. Power is good when it's on the right side, right?
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"If you were completely ruthless, you would have killed me the first time we met. You wouldn't have bothered with the rescue, because it wouldn't have been worth your time. Am I wrong?"
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Also, how dare you question his self-worth?
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He shrugs. "Anyways. The important thing is I wanted to say thanks for helping me out. I owe you one... probably not a rescue, I'm shit at that, but if you need some sort of favour, you can ask me about it."
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Because he did not mess around with that sort of thing.
"And you don't owe me anything. All I did was drive."
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He shakes his head with a bit of a grin. "It was some seriously badass driving, though, and it prevented me from being zombie food. That's worth at least a little favour, right?"
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The silent reminder that he'd let the kid off very easy before.
After giving it time to sink in, Six turned back towards his imaginary targets, slipping into position to start again. "Do what you want, kid, but just know that I'm not keeping score."
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Which apparently, it might.
"...You're really not good at being polite, huh? We have that in common."
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"There's no reason for you to keep insisting on thanking me or paying me back. Move on."
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He did apologize and thank him, and that's... probably all he can do. He hopes that César can convince the guy to unwind a little.
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Six looked back over his shoulder, thoroughly confused.
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Wouldn't it be awkward to avoid each other entirely when he was hanging out with Rich's dad pretty regularly?
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"Why?"
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Rich takes a step back. "But it's pretty obvious you don't want me to bother doing that, so I'll just... sink into the floor and die from embarrassment now, if that's cool."
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"We're not friends; we're former coworkers. I might have decided not to kill him over what he did to me, but that doesn't make me his friend. You're under no obligation to be polite to me to 'get along with his friends'."
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He sighs and rubs his forehead. "And again, I just thought you saving my ass meant I was sort of obligated to try to talk to you. But you... super don't want that and that's fair."
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At least that was how he understood it. Might need to clear some things up with César.
"It's not that I don't want it, kid. It's just I don't see why you insist on it after I told you that you didn't owe me anything." He traced one of the planks of the wood of the deck with a toe. "What I do doesn't lend itself towards huge displays of gratitude. I'm just a more recognizable grunt on the front lines."
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He's probably a little disjointed at this point, but really, he doesn't know how to argue that Six deserves... the same things that Rich had believed he wasn't worthy of either.
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"And being alone doesn't bother me. Not exactly trained to deal with large amounts of people."
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Even long before he'd become a mercenary. He'd had to make a lot of compromises when fending for himself on the street.
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Relationships came with too many messy strings as he'd found out from his partnership and friendship with White Knight. Not all of them were bad, but he didn't need so many people around him. He was having to re-learn it back where he came from.
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Ugh, but it's stupid of him to even try to convince this guy. He's just one young kid, and Six doesn't get that they could possibly have anything in common.
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"Why don't you head back to bed, kid?"