About as settled in as it gets. The living quarters in this part of town are ... minimalist. Takes me back to dorm rooms at Columbia.
[ matt had said he was from hell's kitchen, so at least stephen doesn't feel like a reference to new york is a non sequitur. he's almost trying not to roll his eyes at the quirk of that mouth. honestly. ]
I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right, because that actually sounded like carte blanche to go out and commit some crimes. Where did I put that ski mask?
It's alright. A friend of mine says attachment to the material is detachment from the spiritual. Whatever that means.
[ god, he misses wong. and being able to buy his own drinks. ]
I'd ask what year but seeing as you aren't graying I'm pretty sure we well missed one another. Never mind the possibility that your New York isn't my New York. [ and then, amused. ] It's a shame. I wouldn't have hated seeing you on the street.
[ there's no way that isn't on purpose, but it's not like the guy can fully tell, so it just leaves stephen scoffing in some mix of amusement and indignation. not that he has to clarify why. ]
Maybe I should. See if I can discover some heretofore unknown gift for narration.
[ maybe the rule of law gets to people, stephen reflects as he showers, gets dressed, makes his way to the elevators. the threat of a minimum quota and the way every interaction here is carefully charged, laden with its own set of rules—at some point most newcomers probably just give in eventually, let instinct take over. a minimum of song and dance, fewer concerns about bases.
or maybe matt murdock is just a reasonably attractive man and stephen is, if not weak, then opportunistic. he makes his way to matt's flat in due time and taps at the door buzzer, leans back from the doorway to let him answer. he has, in-hand, a bottle of hard apple cider. ]
[ Matt hadn't necessarily intended to have a housecall arranged. He just happens to like Stephen, but he's tuned-in enough to know when conversations take turns and become something else. He can be the first to admit that this is moderately out of character for him, but he's never really been in a city before where they brand people and casually force them to get laid.
He's in the midst of attempting some work when the buzzer goes. In a city without braille, it's nice that there's not really any paperwork to deal with, but the audio ets so dull. Stephen's arrival is more than welcome at this point. There's a smile on Matt's face when he opens the door. ]
[ he looks good, stephen reflects, and even in that split-second of greeting he seems to have the same mild good humor from when they first met. that's a good sign. he steps past him and glances around the flat, takes it all in, the odd and impersonal luxury. ]
That's too bad. I like interrupting something important. [ with a smile in his own voice, like he can't help being at least a little sardonic at all times. ] I brought cider. Back home it's that time of year ... here, though, I have no idea.
[ He follows Steven in, then detours towards the kitchen to find some glasses. At least in his own apartment, he doesn't need to put on too much of an act. It's reasonable enough that he'd know his way around by now.
Once he's felt out a couple of glasses that seem like they'll be reasonable, he sets them on the counter. ]
If you don't mind doing the honours? It was winter for me, not that I'll never say no to a good cider. Or to having someone here that's from home.
[ he trails after matt to the kitchen and moves to uncap the bottle, pouring out two glasses. ]
If you don't mind me saying so, based on our ... hour, maybe, of interaction, I've been thinking you're been taking all of this remarkably well. [ there's another smile in his voice, amused. ] Something about Hell's Kitchen prep you well for dystopia?
All things considered, as far as this place goes I think I got the good end of the deal. An apartment to myself, a job that's pretty much what I do back home, I have actual friends from my day to day life here - I'm not doing too bad. Anyway, I figure, not all problems can be solved by attacking them, right?
[ Wrong. Matt is out every night, without fail, punching people who may or may not deserve to be punched. It's the only way he knows how to cope with things. If Steven looks closely enough, Matt's knuckles are bruised, and there might be a hint of a bruised eye peeking out behind his glasses. ]
I'm not sure how useful I'd be to a revolution, anyway.
If they wanted you to enlist, and if you had an interest, I'm sure they could find some way to exercise your skillset.
[ stephen isn't actually that invested in the forms and dimensions of rebellion, in large part because he finds himself less and less concerned with the laws of man every day. he just knows that one of the newcomers who was particularly interested in insurgency would've wanted help from anyone capable, and he only knows that because he lives with him. ]
But I feel the same, frankly. If someone needs patching up I'm not sure I care whether they're chafing under the leash or not; I still have obligations. [ stephen slides a glass to him, taps the rim for a cue. ] —here you go. [ and then he leans against the counter, eying him openly. he does, after a fashion, catch the shadow of that black eye, it makes him frown— ] Speaking of needing patching up. [ he makes an aborted gesture to the side of matt's face, fingers with their slight tremor hovering near the side of his face. ] You get hit?
[ Of course Matt doesn't need Stephen to tap the glass, and he's more than aware that a hand is reaching towards him. He can almost feel the vague shaking in the fingers if he focuses hard enough.
He puts on a look of surprise. It's not really all that fake. Matt hadn't realized that anything was amiss, so he passes it off with an awkward sort of laugh. ]
Yeah. It's not - No one's going around hitting a blind guy. It was the fesitval. My dad was a boxer and I like to think I can throw a punch or two, I think everyone was just. Riled up. Guess it got a little out of hand.
[ That's not even really a lie, either. Matt's glad he can use Tumenalia as an excuse. He takes off his glasses and sets them on the counter, then makes the choice to tip his face towards Stephen's hand. ]
[ stephen bites back a scoff of disbelief as matt removes his glasses, leans towards his hand. figures, matt murdock is cute. stephen doesn't think that very often about very many people, because he's forty and cynical and "cute" hasn't really existed in his personal vernacular for ages. but stephen is also a believer in certain objective truths, so yeah, it's gonna have to be cute. how demeaning for them both. ]
Really? I'm flattered. I wish I could see the other guy.
[ Matt looks amused, and, well. They're here, aren't they? Doing this, dancing around the underlying reason why Stephen is here in the first place. Drinks? Sure. Friends catching up? Maybe that, too. But Matt's not a stranger to flirting, either. ]
[ his tone carefully neutral, even though he does, at last, rest a speculative hand on the side of matt's face. the scars stand out slightly against skin. ]
Inviting over a medical professional with nothing better to do than make house calls. [ said with wry amusement, and his voice a touch lower in the narrow space between them. ] But I suppose it's either that or funny business.
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[ dryly. he's smiling. ]
It's, hmm. Acceptable. [ acceptable is one word for it, anyway. it's obvious there are other words that come to mind. ] You settled in?
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I am. You? I'm working at the courts in the Down, if you ever need rescuing.
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[ matt had said he was from hell's kitchen, so at least stephen doesn't feel like a reference to new york is a non sequitur. he's almost trying not to roll his eyes at the quirk of that mouth. honestly. ]
I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right, because that actually sounded like carte blanche to go out and commit some crimes. Where did I put that ski mask?
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[ god, he misses wong. and being able to buy his own drinks. ]
I'd ask what year but seeing as you aren't graying I'm pretty sure we well missed one another. Never mind the possibility that your New York isn't my New York. [ and then, amused. ] It's a shame. I wouldn't have hated seeing you on the street.
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[ Is Matt upset about the prospect? Absolutely not. He laughs, passing his tongue over his lip. It's mostly subconscious. ]
I guess that depends if your New York was partially destroyed by an alien invasion or not.
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[ there's a slight rustle of fabric as stephen shifts in his seat. ]
It was, actually. Big to-do, the Avengers ... [ a pause. ] I was working round the clock for weeks after, at Metro-General Hospital.
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[ idle curiosity. ]
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[ His head tilts a bit, and Matt passes his tongue over his lip again before smiling. ]
I need someone to come over and describe the one here so I can give you a better answer.
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Maybe I should. See if I can discover some heretofore unknown gift for narration.
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[ he's from someplace much more cornpone, actually, and it just barely shows. ]
Send me your address. I can be up sooner rather than later, if your afternoon's free.
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[ And Stephen will be getting the location of Matt's apartment, followed by the suite number. ]
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or maybe matt murdock is just a reasonably attractive man and stephen is, if not weak, then opportunistic. he makes his way to matt's flat in due time and taps at the door buzzer, leans back from the doorway to let him answer. he has, in-hand, a bottle of hard apple cider. ]
Special delivery.
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He's in the midst of attempting some work when the buzzer goes. In a city without braille, it's nice that there's not really any paperwork to deal with, but the audio ets so dull. Stephen's arrival is more than welcome at this point. There's a smile on Matt's face when he opens the door. ]
Good timing. Come in.
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[ he looks good, stephen reflects, and even in that split-second of greeting he seems to have the same mild good humor from when they first met. that's a good sign. he steps past him and glances around the flat, takes it all in, the odd and impersonal luxury. ]
That's too bad. I like interrupting something important. [ with a smile in his own voice, like he can't help being at least a little sardonic at all times. ] I brought cider. Back home it's that time of year ... here, though, I have no idea.
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[ He follows Steven in, then detours towards the kitchen to find some glasses. At least in his own apartment, he doesn't need to put on too much of an act. It's reasonable enough that he'd know his way around by now.
Once he's felt out a couple of glasses that seem like they'll be reasonable, he sets them on the counter. ]
If you don't mind doing the honours? It was winter for me, not that I'll never say no to a good cider. Or to having someone here that's from home.
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[ he trails after matt to the kitchen and moves to uncap the bottle, pouring out two glasses. ]
If you don't mind me saying so, based on our ... hour, maybe, of interaction, I've been thinking you're been taking all of this remarkably well. [ there's another smile in his voice, amused. ] Something about Hell's Kitchen prep you well for dystopia?
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All things considered, as far as this place goes I think I got the good end of the deal. An apartment to myself, a job that's pretty much what I do back home, I have actual friends from my day to day life here - I'm not doing too bad. Anyway, I figure, not all problems can be solved by attacking them, right?
[ Wrong. Matt is out every night, without fail, punching people who may or may not deserve to be punched. It's the only way he knows how to cope with things. If Steven looks closely enough, Matt's knuckles are bruised, and there might be a hint of a bruised eye peeking out behind his glasses. ]
I'm not sure how useful I'd be to a revolution, anyway.
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[ stephen isn't actually that invested in the forms and dimensions of rebellion, in large part because he finds himself less and less concerned with the laws of man every day. he just knows that one of the newcomers who was particularly interested in insurgency would've wanted help from anyone capable, and he only knows that because he lives with him. ]
But I feel the same, frankly. If someone needs patching up I'm not sure I care whether they're chafing under the leash or not; I still have obligations. [ stephen slides a glass to him, taps the rim for a cue. ] —here you go. [ and then he leans against the counter, eying him openly. he does, after a fashion, catch the shadow of that black eye, it makes him frown— ] Speaking of needing patching up. [ he makes an aborted gesture to the side of matt's face, fingers with their slight tremor hovering near the side of his face. ] You get hit?
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He puts on a look of surprise. It's not really all that fake. Matt hadn't realized that anything was amiss, so he passes it off with an awkward sort of laugh. ]
Yeah. It's not - No one's going around hitting a blind guy. It was the fesitval. My dad was a boxer and I like to think I can throw a punch or two, I think everyone was just. Riled up. Guess it got a little out of hand.
[ That's not even really a lie, either. Matt's glad he can use Tumenalia as an excuse. He takes off his glasses and sets them on the counter, then makes the choice to tip his face towards Stephen's hand. ]
How's it look, doctor?
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Best shiner I've ever seen, personally.
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[ Matt looks amused, and, well. They're here, aren't they? Doing this, dancing around the underlying reason why Stephen is here in the first place. Drinks? Sure. Friends catching up? Maybe that, too. But Matt's not a stranger to flirting, either. ]
Is there anything I should do for it?
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[ his tone carefully neutral, even though he does, at last, rest a speculative hand on the side of matt's face. the scars stand out slightly against skin. ]
Inviting over a medical professional with nothing better to do than make house calls. [ said with wry amusement, and his voice a touch lower in the narrow space between them. ] But I suppose it's either that or funny business.
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wrong account lolol
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