B E L L Y A C H E

Gabriel hums softly at the confirmation, it’s interesting enough– he’s half curious to ask, so he does. “See anything worth while? You don’t come across sharks or anything right?” He would actually think that’s even cooler as dangerous as that sounds, he’s watched those nature documentaries on them before and although he’s never told anyone shark week was sort of a favorite of his. He just really likes animals in truth. They don’t judge you, they just are what they are…it was something perhaps he wished was a trait more easily found in humans. Kennedy didn’t judge him though, not from what he could tell, not that they knew enough to judge either, but it’s all the same to him and he’s grateful that it doesn’t seem like the other has a malicious bone in their body. That smile the other is giving him only confirms that, although it does seem just a tad bit mischievous, Gabriel hadn’t ever been much of one for mischief, maybe in his younger years briefly– but even then he’d always been sort of by the book. If the book was the Hebrew bible that is. “You got me there,” He quips back, smile still laced on his lips, his own words being used against him, all in good fun of course.  “Well I’m no Fred Astaire so I won’t judge, I feel like coordinated hopping still counts for something.” He’d perked up at the Ginger Rogers reference admittedly, recalling watching those types of films with his mother, another genre shared with her; although she always seemed to be more of a Gene Kelly fan, probably for his athleticism in dance, he’d always sort of noticed that aspect about the man himself, for ‘whatever reason’. Synchronized wiggling though, that was surely one way to put it, but the little shimmy Kennedy gives way to keeps him from dwelling on any wiggling at all for very long, sorta. Besides all this talk of Ginger, Fred and being in an old diner makes him feel a bit like he’s living a movie of his own, especially as they pass by the bar counter top that had that oh so fifties laminate.  The door bell does a little ring in the distance as it closes back behind them, it bothers his ears a bit but he tries not to pay mind to it, Kennedy helps with that by looking back and talking. He’d trailed behind the other after opening the door first but he’s hardly far behind just a few steps– “I insist,” He gets a bit quiet, only momentarily as he slidesssss into the corner booth next to Kennedy. “besides the company is a nice change.” The notion of Kennedy being a cheap date, or this being a date at all lets an awkward laugh slip past him as his face heats up for the slightest of seconds. Speaking of heating up Kennedy didn’t seem very toasty AT ALL, he isn’t completely either, but he’s also larger he figures, so he’ll adapt now that their inside. He nods to the waitress at the notion of coffee, he doesn’t mind the other speaking up for him, means he doesn’t have to talk as much and that’s always a plus.  Gabriel watches as she smiles to them both politely and turns around with a little flair of her skirt to get their coffee. He looks back to the other, hands dipping into his jacket pocket to pull out his I-Pod, sitting it in his lap momentarily as he moves to slide off his jacket. It’s a rather large coat, a bomber jacket to be exact. “Here, you’re shivering.” His tone is matter of fact, but soft, the kind of tone that doesn’t suit a man of his stature; it’s there all the same before he gets quiet again. “for warming your bones.” He adds, as if doing the same thing the other did mere moments ago.

Gabriel is prompting them to talk further, asking about their snorkeling adventures with Sans which Kennedy is all too keen to share at length (the same could be said for most any topic but that’s just their nature). As they draw in a breath to answer, they start tapping their heel up and down against the shiny diner floor beneath the table. To go along with the quiet but persistent motion, they fidget a little in their seat but it’s nothing out of the ordinary. For being so vibrant and full of energy, Kennedy very rarely is able to sit still. Perhaps it’s that constantly wound up state that prevents them from being properly able to sleep. It’s either that or the nightmares. 

“No sharks! But we did see lots of eels and schools of fishes and even a manta ray thing! I think Sans may have spotted an octopus but they are very sneaky with their camouflage, you know, so I don’t know that I believe him.” With Kennedy’s inherent trust in Santiago, of course they believe him. They’re just being funny! “We even saw a ‘nemo fish’ as Sansy called them. Isn’t that silly? A nemo fish.” They’re freshly amused by their now-leader’s antics and wonders privately whether or not others got to see this wondrous playful side. They certainly know they were the only one with whom Sans watches Disney movies, that’s for certain!

The fact that Gabe gets their Ginger Rogers reference isn’t breaking any stereotypes Kennedy may have had about gruff older men who found themselves in gang activity and assassin life. But that’s only because Kennedy doesn’t hold such stereotypes. There’s no place for them in their very colorful outlook on life so instead it’s just a point of glee and one that perks up their tiny frame where they are hunched in the booth. “And here I was convinced I was being dined by the Fred Astaire! You two could be brothers -- though i think you have far nicer ears.” What a bizarre compliment from anyone but them. They make a mental note to ask Gabe about it more -- the shared old time knowledge, not the shape of his ears.

Kennedy takes in another deep breath (talking so animatedly was really a work out for their small lungs) but before they can thank Gabe for a) having them as company and b) calling them nice company, they are watching him strip. It’s not sexual -- obviously, they are in the middle of a cute diner -- but it’s fascinating nonetheless and causes the words to die on Kennedy’s parted lips. Their head tips to the side, confusion etching itself onto their features. Kennedy’s gaze flickers to the swishy skirt waitress leave them before returning to Gabe as though magnetized. They notice then that the (admittedly massive) bomber jacket is being offered to them, not with a question as to whether or not Kenny wants it but with a simple statement of fact. They are shivering and Gabe wants to warm their bones.

“Okay,” Kennedy answers the not-question airily, and their hands guide the garment around their trim shoulders. They are drowning in fabric but, more importantly, they are surrounded by warmth. The jacket may as well have its own heating system and Kennedy feels like they ought to pay rent and move in immediately, it’s so much larger than any place in which they have lived save for Sans’ palace apartment! They slide their arms into the cavernous sleeves, feeling like their hands barely come up to the jacket’s elbows. So when they raise their arms to continue their gesticulate speaking, they are briefly distracted by the floppy excess sleeve dangling down at their sides. 

Santiago can’t help the smile that crosses his lips when Kennedy speaks, they really are charming in the sense that Santiago can’t help but let out a chuckle. Santiago unlike Kennedy, opted for just the vest, sure he’ll regret it later but right now, he doesn’t really seem too. He’d just bought these swim trunks and it would be a shame to not show them off, right?  “I can’t help but wonder what that makes me then.” Another laugh escapes him, his smile never faltering as he looks at the other, ears hearing the slapping sound with every step. That could get a bit annoying after awhile, but never from Kennedy– their just too adorable and Santiago is far too fond of them.  Being here was really what they all needed, what Santiago needed, even with their boss around now, there was never any time for slacking. The other gangs and their lifestyle just wouldn’t allow for it. For now though he could relax, he could lavish someone with his attention that didn’t involve blood and gunfire. That person as of right now would seem to be Kennedy, for this he is grateful. His shoulders can already feel the tension being lifted, even if it’s all in the back of his mind. “I do kinda have big feet don’t I,Dios mío” He snorts, it’s not so much of a question just an observation about himself. He looks towards Kennedy’s own once toes are wriggled around for emphasis. “Mhm but sí, I’m ready!” Santiago speaks, trailing after the other, flippered feet finally hitting the water as it swells slowly in and out.  “You’ll have to tell me if you see any of those…what are they called…that little nemo fish from that one movie we watched?”

they give santiago their best attempt at a scrutinizing stare as though putting painstaking thought and effort into coming up with their answer. after a few dollish blinks and a quirk of their head, a smile (on top of their current smile) brightens up their whole being. “that makes you a big daddy penguin, of course! and i’ll be your little peeping baby penguin.” only kennedy talking to sans could use the word daddy and have literally no sexual connotations to the word. the person who had set them up with their snorkeling gear even gives them a second glance at the statement but seeing kennedy’s genuine excitement and purity, only deems it worthy of a light chuckle.

they’re bobbing their head in a nod, nudging sans’ flipper covered foot with one of their own before starting to inch towards the water with tentative movements. “you know what they say about penguins with big feet, don’t you?” they call over their shoulder casually, ignoring the fact that even the slightly warm waters feel chilly washing over their wetsuit covered ankles. “they need really big shoes!” kennedy makes it a point to check sans’ shoe size when they get back to their suites. or, more specifically, back to sans’ suite (they may or may not already be planning to spend the night in sans’ room should he have no other plans; it feels weird not being around their roommate). 

“nemo fish!” they squeak out, delighted that sans even remembers. sometimes kennedy gets so engrossed in cartoons that they don’t bother to check that sans is still awake. “they’re clown fish, you silly goose.” the water’s up to their knees now and getting higher. kennedy has no fear of drowning or anything, especially not while sans is by their side. they’d trust sans with their whole entire life and then some! but it still makes their heart beat faster to be getting deeper and they mouth at the breathing tube affixed to their goggles as if testing that it’ll work. “maybe we can reunite them with their children clown fish like some kind of aquatic dr. phils.”

He catches Kennedy’s shivering and subconsciously picks up his pace. “Snorkeling?” He’s both surprised and curious all at once, surprised in part to the idea of Santiago snorkeling and curious because even while there he didn’t take the time to do such. Gabe wonders idly if he missed out, it’s no matter now though. “Mhm those drinks were pretty good. Had too many I think,” He snorts, he’s not much of a drinker to be honest but in social situations it’s hard to steer away from; especially in the company of almost anyone from the gang. Gabe likes that Kennedy talks so much, it’s not annoying– perhaps had Gabriel been his younger self before the war, before everything really he might be more chatty himself. That’s not the case these days, so the other filling in the usually quiet gaps ( or rather quiet in the case of talking, it was never quiet for gabriel to be fair ) was a nice change, people tended to stay quiet around him, figuring he didn’t like to be bothered or a quiet guy like him must never want to talk; just because he didn’t like to talk didn’t mean that he didn’t like to listen. He hums in agreement, smiling just ever so slightly at the dancing with the stars joke. He’d never payed much mind to it, but he’d known of it, how could he not when many of his nights alone were spent flipping through channels, never quite paying full attention to any of it. “You dance often?” Now it’s his turn to tilt his head to the side, “I got two left feet I think, so I don’t.” Sometimes when the music hit him justttt righttt, he found himself wanting too…but he’d been too much of a stickler to ever actually let loose.  Kennedy is talking again, asking him a question, it makes him chuckle, not because it’s stupid of course, just because. A milkshake wasn’t his idea of warming up, it makes sense though in the context of Kennedy, or what he knows of him at least, they seemed like a milkshake sorta person. “Naw, it’s not weird…“ Not weirder than anything else they do, not any weirder than the rest of them. Milkshakes in the cold though, what a concept. He hadn’t realized in his effort to get to warmth faster, that his long strides might prove to be harder to catch up to for someone smaller, still now Kennedy is humming a tune and skipping and it’s almost amusing in a way.  “Not enough if you ask me,” It’s a half tease, as if he could eat much more than that himself at times. Sometimes he’d have a massive appetite and other times it was nonexistent for what felt like days. Tonight wasn’t a latter sort of night, fries at the very least sounded great. “You get whatever you want though, my treat.” Perhaps this is his own way of apologizing, as if he could somehow stop the chill that had settled into the city, as if he was at fault; Gabe thinks he’s usually at fault for a number of things– his therapist tells him that’s not the case, tells him it’s not healthy to put the world on his shoulders like he’s atlas. But he killed a man, a man that wasn’t a target, a man that wasn’t on the opposite side of some war, blood like that doesn’t just wash off he thinks, it stains. Like atlas he’ll atone for his crime in little ways, ways that make him feel just a bit better. Kennedy is smiling at him now, it’s sweet, breaks him outta any thoughts he might of had and when the neon lights are pointed out he’s grateful. “Come on then, lets warm up.” Gabriel is smiling back, it’s honest, if perhaps a bit of a worn down smile, it’s usually not an expression that laces his lips, tonight it fits.

“Snorkeling.” He confirms as if that was the only answer needed. If Gabe wanted to know more details, he could ask. Kennedy was an open book. “Too many drinks?” Kennedy repeats with a tip of his head to glance up at Gabe. Now he’s just being coy as a smile lights up his whole face, eyes glittering with mischief. “Not enough if you ask me,” he quips joyously, tossing the man’s words right back at him. It’s a delightful joke, to Kennedy as well, and he has a hard time stifling down his trills of giggles. He’s still practically galloping beside Gabriel, all to shake off the settling cold that threatens to engulf his tiny frame but he doesn’t mind how strange he may look. It’s making Gabe smile.

Kennedy makes a vague noise, neither here nor there, and lifts slim shoulders in a dramatic shrug. “I’m no Ginger Rogers,” he slides his hands into his back pockets and cranes his head upwards, gazing at the city smudged sky, “but I dabble in recreational dancing, yes. It’s not really so much ‘dancing’ as it is, like, coordinated hopping? And then if your dance partner gets a bit frisky its just synchronized wiggling. Nothing too complicated, from a choreography standpoint!” Kennedy doesn’t feel the need to share that when it crosses beyond a certain point, edging in the territory of a very sexual grind, he tends to bow out. No need to unearth that can of worms.

To distract, he gives a shimmy of his shoulders that seems perfectly in time with them crossing the threshold of the diner and finally basking in its warmth. There’s a timelessness to any eating establishment that calls itself a ‘diner’ specifically, Kennedy has decided. They’re like tiny time capsules filled with relics and memorabilia from simpler times. He likes fancying himself some kind of time traveler as he brushes past shiny red patent leather booths and gleaming silver bar stools affixed to the checkerboard floor. “You don’t have to pay for me and my milkshakes,” Kennedy clarifies with a turn of his head back at Gabe who has slowed a step or two behind him. “I practically invited myself along.”

Even not knowing Gabe very well, though, Kennedy gets the feeling that there will be no convincing him otherwise and a smile eases its way onto his lips. “Well, either way, don’t worry. I’m a super cheap date.” With that, he slides into the open corner booth with a delighted little noise (because obviously corner booths were the coolest -- they only needed one long curved seat!). “I’m practically toasty already,” Kennedy lies. The tip of his nose is still part icicle but his heart feels warm. When the waitress makes her way over to them (Kennedy is disappointed she isn’t on roller skates) he’s swift to chime in that they’d both like a cup of coffee. 

The moon seemed to hang heavy in the sky and yet the light that radiated from the city seemed to block out anything else, namely the stars. Manufactured little blips of bright light blocking out another more authentic form, it’s almost sad or maybe just poetic really. Gabriel had never been a man to dwell much on that sort of thing, either way. Gabriel did used to wonder what it was like to be someplace where you could see the landscape of space however; the vacation had been the first time he’d experienced anything like that– it all seemed too surreal to him though. Yet he misses it, not that he says as much, he never says as much. Gabriel looks towards his companion, headphones in as per usual although nothings playing as of yet and that’s sorta bothering him. He’s gotta take a break sometime, at least that’s what the good ol’ doctor tells him, he thinks it’s a bunch of bullshit, thinks the music is the only constant thing that eases his nerves…well beyond coffee maybe. Hence him walking towards the diner now, it wasn’t far from the warehouse at any rate and it was at least open all the time it would seem, like something outta one of them noir films his mom used to watch. “Sorta chilly out.” He muses out loud, growing quiet once more, he hadn’t taken much time to talk to Kennedy in all the time they’d been in the gang, to be fair Gabriel hadn’t taken much time out to talk to anyone so– but he’s doing it now, that’s something he figures. It’s something that they even caught each other at just the right time, for him to invite the other to tag along. “Kinda makes you miss the island, was a lot warmer there, didn’t need a jacket.” Gabriel had always been naturally warm but hey cold night walks could rattle anyone’s bones. “Coffee oughta fix that right up though, eh?” @kenncdy·

Kennedy’s already shivering -- though it’s not all that different from his usual restless fidgeting -- so he doesn’t need Gabriel to point out the temperature. And yet, the statement makes Kennedy smile and nod vigorously. They may not know each other well but he knows that Gabe stringing together so many words in an effort to start conversation is a compliment. Or, at least, he takes it as one. The thin fabric of his hoodie had seemed like enough of a buffer when he’d tossed it on over his pastel tee but now, all exposed to the elements and outside of the relative warmth of the warehouse, he was wishing he’d actually went scavenging to find a jacket of some sort. “I miss the island for lots of reasons. Sansy took me snorkeling and I got to try lots of fruity drinks that made me feel all bubbly. And dancing! And looking at the stars! That’s kind of funny -- dancing with the stars gets a whole new meaning.” Kennedy cants his head to the side, prepared to read the situation to see if he ought to shut up. It’s a strong possibility.

“Is it weird that I kinda want a milkshake? Even though it’s gonna be cold?” As though a testament to the ill-planning of his craving, his teeth chatter together. To keep Gabe from feeling any semblance of guilt for having asked Kennedy to come out with him, he starts humming a little tune to distract himself from the shivers. Instead of simple strolling (in double time to keep up with Gabriel’s strides), he starts to half skip in another effort to keep himself warm. “I’ll get coffee too. Coffee and a milkshake and maybe some french fries? Is that too much for a late night snack?” 

Santiago had never once been snorkeling a day in his life, it’s an odd thing really– although he will admit it does in fact seem pretty fun! So of course the moment Kennedy actually suggests they go, he can’t help but agree. It’s not like the decision is hard either way, he thinks the soft spot he has for them leaves him to never utter out the words ‘no’. It’s why he watched those cheesy little romance flicks with them on occasion, or even why he’s offered Kennedy to come stay with him at his place. Santiago and his soft spots would surely be the death of him but as long as a shark didn’t find their way to them both, surely that day wouldn’t be today! ”You all geared up corazón?” He asks, it’s rather sweet even for Santiago’s tastes, honey words to an otherwise t a r t mouth. The man tugs at the goggles that hang loosely around his neck, he’ll pull them up before they get into the water. One thing is for sure though, he thinks the whole getup needed is a bit silly looking, oh well, if it made Kennedy happy who was he to complain; as if he wasn’t excited himself. He very much is.  “I hear the water is warmer than ever and the sun isn’t setting anytime soon, so it looks like we’ll have all day.” @kenncdy·

“lookit!” they all but waddle over to santiago, flippers making a slapping sound everywhere they walked. “i’m like a little penguin!” honestly, they’re having the time of their lives and they haven’t even gotten in the water. every time they catch sight of their own reflection -- whether it was in the mirror in the changing stall or on the surface of the crystal clear waters, they can’t help the peal of giggles that slips from their lips. they’ve opted for the full wet suit, knowing that they are a human of the smaller variety and, despite the warm waters, they’re likely to get cold soaking wet. they even have little floaties ringed around their arms so that they don’t get too distracted by something pretty at the bottom of the reef and forgo air to go chase after it.

their smile only gets brighter at the reassurance that they’d have all the time in the world. it’s a nice change of pace from the tension mounting back at home. even without the threat of the spades, there was always a heist to be prepared for, deals to make, or messes to clean up -- kennedy’s specialty. although they’re probably better suited for a life lived on the edge of a knife for their rocky upbringing, kennedy has learned from this trip that they could adapt to be pampered too. hell, even just moving in with santiago is self indulgent of them and a step towards a better life.

but they’re not about to get all sappy about that now.

She looked up at them with a cocked eyebrow and shook her head. “A fancy drink?” Nix asked, thinking of how she was more than happy just carrying around a bottle of whiskey for the rest of the night with no mixers or chasers. “Are there clubs on the mainland?” she wondered, considering it. “We could go. I just have to change first.” With an amused snort, she gestured to her wet hair.

           • SKEPTICAL WORDS TRAVEL AMONG some, that faye has yet to earn her association with the 212. after all, her opulent biography lacks the troubled upbringing so consistent with many of members. coupled with her history with adrian, she doesn’t appear too credible. the vacation was one that she’d have gladly missed. six months she’d been with this family, & seven since her brother has been left comatose. three days since she’d last seen him — the longest it’s been since the ‘ accident ’. still, she’s determined to prove herself of some worth, or at least some pleasure to be in the company of. it seems, by the bar would be the easiest place to do so. ❝ be aware, by sitting with me, you’re signing a no-sobriety contract. ❞

After spending most of the evening eating and swimming, Nix was walking back to her room, hair still wet and swaddled in a towel. She hadn’t taken many vacations in her life, and the Maldives were beautiful, to say the least. They hadn’t even been there a full day but she was already enjoying herself much more than she thought she would, and it showed. “I think,” she began, turning to her nearby company, “we should go raid one of our rooms. See if we can’t dig up something good to drink.”

“ ah, kennedy, we have to share! ” she exclaims, grinning at one of her favorite people. “ oh, i have cinnamon bun flavored! also pumpkin spice because tis the season! stop, you’re too nice! ” aurora glances down at the drink trey and looks at the cups for a moment before pulling out the cinnamon bun flavored one, handing it to kennedy. “ there’s sugar and creamer in the bag if you need some. ”

“  —  would you like a coffee? i got all different kinds of ‘em. ” with the anger that seemed to be radiating through the warehouse, aurora figured that a cup of happiness would be helpful.