[Danny Jones] (123notme!)
[Rafael Durante] (::makes ninja noises::)
[Danny Jones] (hee!)
[Rafael Durante] This section of town this early in the morning is absolutely teeming with life, footsteps and voices and music all barreling out into the street and assaulting the senses. On the street where the Durantes live, in their half a house, mariachi music is blaring from a neighbor’s stereo; children are tearing around the street; about a block away the scenery changes slightly, with gangster rap of various persuasions competing for room in the air from three separate buildings. A menagerie of teenagers lounge outside a row house, their eyes on their watches, their eyes awaiting the arrival of that run down school bus coming to take them away.
It is early, and the streets are loud.
Rafael is trooping along just as merrily as you please, marching back from the train yards with his bookbag securely attached to his back and his short legs making short work of the sidewalks. His short hair is a rumpled mess; his stomach, empty. There is one place for him this morning, and that is his mother’s house.
[Danny Jones] Speaking of empty stomachs – there’s one surefire place Danny can be found when her belly is empty and she’s low on funds; with her ass and feet hanging out of a dumpster.
That’s where she is now, cursing as she struggles to get ever deeper into the disgusting mess to capture the illusive dinner that isn’t too old. Her voice reverberates off the sides of the metal dumpster until she crows her delight and pops up and out of her metal oven. “Ha. Caught ya, ya lil fucker.”
Such a mouth on the little girl, huh?
She digs into the mcdonald’s back and finds half a cheeseburger and a buncha cold fries. Dinner is served.
[Rafael Durante] As always, the young Ragabash is caught in the sights of the motor-mouthed Philodox long before she’s even aware of his presence. As ever, he is heard long, long before he is seen.
“Look at that ass!” comes rocketing down the sidewalk behind her as Danny pulls her head out of the fermenting box of garbage and swings back down towards the concrete.
[Danny Jones] Which, of course, brings laughter from the little used to be dox, far far far more at home as a raggie Gnawer. “Yeah? That’s what ya BROTHER said!” She ain’t even look up yet, when she matches his bellow -though it’s clear she’s grinning.
Specially now when she takes a bite of the burger and looks up to wave at her tribemate. “Heya, Rafi – wasscookin?” it’s mostly understandable around the day (or two or three) old burger.
[Rafael Durante] Nothing is said the rest of the trip down the sidewalk, although the disapproving glower at mention of his brother can be seen from any distance. He rolls his shoulders to shuck his bookbag higher up on his back, yanking on the straps to adjust them. As he comes closer he clears his throat and hawks a lunger into the street, not seeming to care if it hits the parked Nova or not.
“Nada,” he says, his face shrugging for him. A jerk of his head towards the solidifying burger. “You wanna come to Mama’s house, she making breakfast.” There’s a pause, and then his voice pitches itself into a mocking falsetto as he crows, “Saaaanti’s gonna be theeeere.”
[Danny Jones] He glowers, and she sticks her tongue out at him. “Ya can’t STILL be mad?!?” Even as she hooks a finger in the ring she wears as a necklace now and slides it along the leather with a grin. She looks at the burger then, then at him, then the burger which gets shoved back in the bag and tossed back into the dumpster to finish it’s nastification.
Shut up, it is too a word.
She grins and nods. “Ya Mama’s food? I’m there..” and then she swings a lazy swat at him for the rest. “Ya see? That’s why we done what we done! Ya tease somethin awful, Rafi…”
Pause. Lil grin. “He really gonna be there?” Clears throat. “Not that it matters cuz Ya Mama is awesome and her food is the bomb and… well, is he?”
[Rafael Durante] Amber-colored eyes watch the motion of the ring back and forth across the leather string, and thin lips flatten themselves into a straight line as the rest of him tries not to laugh at the display.
“Oh, yeah,” he scoffs, before his voice pitches itself into a higher register, as his accent puffs itself out until he is able to imitate an approximation of an American accent to say, “not that it matters, tee hee!” before taking a preemptive step back to avoid being smacked.
“He better be there, he supposed to be watching Carolina when Mama go to work. C’mon.”
And he’s off again.
[Danny Jones] She laughs and tucks her arm into his as they walk and grins. “Yer an awful tease, Rafael. just awful.” But she doesn’t seem to mind. In fact it makes her feel at home even more when she’s with him.
A few steps, and then she grins. “Brodie recover from the Beltane party alright? Ya’ll was pretty sloshed by the time we gots ya poured into ya beds…” She adjusts the strap of her pack a little and then tucks her free hand into the pockets of her jeans. And – because it ain’t been noted yet, the jacket is tied to the pack, and she’s sporting her Rainbow Brite glitter t-shirt. Cuz it’s awesome, that’s why.
[Rafael Durante] “Ay, Dios,” he groans, the memory hitting him like a backhand. The hand attached to the arm that is not being held comes up to rub the side of his face, and he blows out a breath as he thinks back to that night. “I tell you what, man, that big brute can’t hold his fucking liquor.”
It is not a long walk, not at all, not with the next corner depositing them on the street where the music lapses from hip-hop to merengue.
“Is a sad day when a guy weighs fifty-four kilos drinks more than a fuckin’ brick shithouse like Rambler, I tell you what. He wun too proud of hisself the next morning.”
[Danny Jones] She laughs and shakes her head. “No shit – I thought he’d be drinkin way past time me and Thaney was! Least I ain’t wake up with a tattoo this time. We totally shoulda branded his ass… assumin one of us weren’t so drunk we’d hurt ourselves, of course.”
“You n Rambler n Santi – specially that night, an Mama an’ Carolina… ya’ll remind me so much a home sometimes.” There’s a little wistful sigh, before she shrugs n grins. “It’s nice. Makes me homesick, but still nice.” she does a little merengue step as they turn the corner, and grins.
[Rafael Durante] “Girl, what makes you think that ass ain’t branded already?”
At her confession he cants his head to the side, gums ceasing flapping long enough for him to take in her words, to make sense of the motivation behind their utterance. It’s with a hint of a smile that he reacts, and then he reaches out an arm to sling it across her shoulders and bring her in for a squeezing one-armed hug that does not last as long as it could have, but that lasts long enough to matter, before he releases her.
“We all get a little homesick sometimes, linda. Gotta look forward, though. You got good things for you, here, got people who care about you, yeah?”
He says this as if he needs to convince himself of the same as he speaks. This home is where his family is; his family, or at least part of it, is here, now. The weather will take some getting used to, but there is not the loneliness that comes with leaving behind those who will not follow. Those he has left behind could not possibly follow, were left behind due to loss and not to circumstance. Those, he still misses. There is no substitute for time in recovering from that loss.
“You got people who feed you, too.” There’s a gesturing hand towards the half-house several houses down. “I race you, Skinny.”
[Danny Jones] She laughs and arches a brow. “True – maybe me an’ him should play a game of show me yours I’ll show ya mine. Or maybe not.” A mock shudder, followed by the inevitable grin.
got people who care about ya, yeah? he says. She grins then and leans into the hug for a long minute. “Yeah. Like ya brother.”
Fuckin shameless.
She grins then, as he challenges her to a race and she nods. “Mark set…” and she takes off, calling over her shoulder as she hauls ass… “GOOOOOOOOOOOO!” There’s food to be had, ya dig?