fandomhighdorms | 3rd Floor Boys' Bathroom, Way Too Early Sunday Morning

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3rd Floor Boys' Bathroom, Way Too Early Sunday Morning

It wasn't the first time he woke up like this: mind and body ready for a fight, adrenaline screaming through his veins, only to find there was absolutely nothing to fight. New place, new rules, Dante just didn't know them yet so he couldn't break them yet. Sure. Still, there was something eerie about it. Weird.

Getting out of bed to walk down to the bathrooms was the closest thing to polite he'd been to a roommate for a while, but the bathroom was clean, which just made the eerie worse. So now he was hovering over the sink and staring at himself in the mirror. Willing himself to calm down. Maybe if he wasn't new here, he'd have broken out, found some club or something. But he didn't know where anything was, and he didn't want to ruin a shot at a decent place to sleep and regular meals, for as long as it lasted.

He still wanted - needed - to punch something.

"Fuck you," he told his reflection.

Nothing happened.

[[ open, sure. ]]

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"Huh?" Kathy asked, before finally tearing her eyes away from his back to her own reflection. "Dang it," she said, grimacing for a second before the expression pulled on her lip enough to make it hurt. "It looks worse than I thought."

Crossing over to the sinks, she ran some water and gently rinsed her face. One of the bruises she'd been worried about turned out to just be dirt, thank goodness, though her eye was turning redder. Ugh, it might blacken after all.

"I've got a first aid kit up in my room," she said, reaching for a paper towel. "I'll be okay in a couple of days. If I get an ice pack on my eye in a few, some makeup will keep it from being too noticeable."

Kathy had gotten very good with the art of concealer over the past year or so.

Dante leaned back against one of the sinks and crossed his arms, taking mental stock of her injuries. Yeah, someone had definitely been in a fight. And it wasn't like he cared, or anything, but something to focus on was probably better than egging himself on until he broke a mirror or something.

"Seriously, what the fuck did you fight?"

At least her knuckles were in decent shape, since she'd learned to wrap them before going out. That was something.

Kathy mirrored his pose against her sink. "We just gonna ignore that thing your back did when I came in?" she asked, eyebrow raised. Then thought occurred to her and her expression softened. "Or is that why you were in here swearing?"

She...could understand the what it was like when your body started being able to do things you couldn't explain.

Yeah, no, that was a problem Dante had had since he was eight. He was used to it by now, even when it drove him kinda nuts.

"Couldn't sleep," he said flatly. "Otherwise, it's none of your business."

Kathy promptly rolled her eyes at him. And just as promptly regretted it, but whatever. Worth it. "I don't think I got to tell you just how charming you are earlier," she drawled, turning back to the sink. Untying her bright rainbow belt, she shrugged out of her gi, letting it hit the floor with the rough whisper of heavy cotton. Since she was here, it was probably a good opportunity to inspect her upper body for injuries. Now that she had a roommate again, she couldn't really do this in her room anymore.

Meh, some bruises, a small cut that had bled a bit and was already closing, a nasty imprint on her arm where one of the guys had grabbed her wrist when her attention had been on the guy with the knife next to him. Nothing terrible, though she'd probably be sore tomorrow.

"Is it just that it's almost dawn?" she asked, tone casual. "Or just because I'm not in a bikini?"

Edited 2015-08-30 09:56 (UTC)

Even Dante wasn't tasteless enough to eye her up when she was injured. Thought about doing it just to make a point, but let the thought go. You know. Whatever.

"It's because I've already told you to get lost twice," he said. "This is why I have trust issues."

Not really.

At this point, if Dante wanted to eye her up, exhausted and bruised in a sweaty sports bra, he was more than welcome. Kathy had only so many fucks to give in a day and while the number was unusually high, they were pretty much wiped out after a night like this one.

"Me not instantly obeying you has nothing to do with your trust issues," she said, turning on the taps to sluice down her arms. "Public restroom. And I'm actually using it for one of its intended purposes, not just being surly."

"Boys' restroom," Dante pointed out.

Not that he genuinely gave a fuck about that, but still.

"Gender is a social construct that I just can't be assed to worry about at before dawn," Kathy tossed over her shoulder. Then hissed a little. She must have pulled something in her shoulder, probably when she was throwing that guy down. "And yeah, you strike me as someone who totally cares about stuff like that. Dante, Obeyer of Posted Signage."

... Yeah, there was a reason why the sword Dante had gotten was the one named Rebellion, instead of the one referencing Japanese traditionalism.

He rolled his eyes to the side for a second, but didn't refute that point. "Fine," he said, "Guess I'll go use the ladies'."

Oh yes, that sword was much better left to Vergil. He totally exemplified the core values of the Japanese people.

"The acoustics might be better in there," Kathy offered. "You'll be able to really hear yourself when you start your litany of swears. I mean, I didn't hear you get beyond 'fuck', but I'm sure you know others."

"I do," Dante said, pushing off from the sink. "But there's nothing wrong with a good old 'fuck you', don't you think?"

And with that, he was taking big strides towards the bathroom door. No, he really wasn't above using the ladies'.

Dammit. Just because she was cranky and overtired didn't mean that she should take her attitude out on him. Or let his get to her. She'd come in here to make sure whomever was here was okay and massive deflection (and a glowing back) did not suggest 'okay.' Not in the slightest.

Hanging her head, she sighed and called, "Dante? Wait. Look, I'm sorry. You can go to the ladies' or wait here until I finish up and I'm not going to bug you. I just--I heard you on my way back to my room and I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Okay? I'm sorry, sometimes I forget that not everything needs me meddling."

Was she apologizing now? Weird.

Dante stopped walking, at least for the moment. "Yeah, it happens," he said. He was hopped up and vigilant as hell, but pissed off to lash out at her some more? Maybe not.

He wasn't sure.

"Like I said, just trouble sleeping. Homesick."

He couldn't have let that last word sound more ironic if he tried.

Apologizing was what Kathy did. Maybe not as much now, but still. Kinda her thing.

Another person, she might have invited him to talk about home some, but she didn't think that would go over well with Dante. Call it a hunch.

"Ukrainian guys," she said instead. "You asked me before who I was fighting with. A handful of Ukrainian guys. If you were still curious."

Dante glanced over his shoulder. "Why you going around picking fights with Ukrainians in the middle of the night, Kathy?"

It was a reasonable question.

"Technically, this time they picked a fight with me!"

It was very important to get that part straight.

"Yeah, looks like that made a real difference."

He nodded at the whole injury thing.

"I'd say it's a moral difference, but, in fairness, I would have picked the fight if I'd managed to get the jump on them first," Kathy admitted. "They've just learned to keep an eye out for me, apparently."

And that sucked. But was gratifying at the same time.

Keep an eye out? Seriously?

Dante's expression veered towards the dubious. "So again, I've gotta ask - why are you picking fights with Ukrainians?"

Where was Ukrainia, anyway?

Oh Dante. Kathy was going to tutor the hell out of you. Just you wait.

"Because they're part of the Ukranian mob and trying to expand into Baltimore," Kathy said, as if this were a perfectly reasonable explanation. "I don't have anything against Ukrainians specifically."

She wasn't a bigot, Dante, jeeze.

In another universe, Dante might've been the kind of guy who said don't you have cops for that?. In this one, where he'd had his fair share of shitty experiences with said cops, well, he was just going to keep giving Kathy the baffled face.

It made him look a lot younger than his usual attitude.

"Right," he said, a second later, going for casual, "Well, next time don't let them hook you, it's gonna be a fortune in ice cubes."

There were only so much that cops could do. And Kathy was used to cops not caring about certain neighborhoods. For example: her neighborhood back home.

"Usually I'm fast enough to avoid getting hit," Kathy said. "But five on one isn't great odds, even when I'm bouncing around." She eyed him, amused. "Let me guess--you have experience with fights?"

"More than my fair share."

That, at least, he could smirk about.

"Shocked," Kathy deadpanned, smirking right back. "Really. Don't know if my system can handle all that surprise."

She brushed her hair back; so much of it had gotten loose from her braid over the night. "You seem so warm and cuddly otherwise."

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