[Luck Harris]

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SO TAKE THE LOW ROAD

take the high road, take whatever road you're on

Another week, a different laundromat. [break][break]

Luck had been brief when it came to searching for a new place, settling for something fast and simple rather than truly shopping. One result of the decision to be hasty — and there were more than a few — was that his new apartment didn't have washer/dryer amenities. Nor did its complex offer on-site accommodations. [break][break]

Which, all together, that was fine — he was no stranger to the laundromat circuit. But the long years of having his own utility room (and nearby closet) had spoiled him a bit. And it was somehow weirder to stand in the fluorescent lighting, folding crisp work clothes than it ever had been throwing his same three ratty t-shirts and blue jeans carelessly in a bag to wrinkle. [break][break]

He knew that, if he asked, Nate would probably let him come over and do his clothes. But he hadn't wanted to ask. He wouldn't know what the "correct" thing would be to do if he said yes. Stick around while they washed? Pop in and out? Orchestrate it so that it was done while Nate wasn't there? It was very nuanced. More than it had any real right to be. And after some deliberation, he'd decided it wasn't worth the tension and that he'd take his chances elsewhere. [break][break]

This particular laundromat wasn't the closest one to his new apartment. It wasn't even in the top three closest. But the first one he'd tried, the dryers had been awful. Quite intentionally, he figured, so a person either had to spend five more quarters running their load through twice or break what could have been one acceptable load into two smaller ones. The second laundromat he'd given a chance, it'd just been too busy and loud. Even at the times of day and night when he'd figured it wouldn't be (but perhaps everyone else had had the same idea). The third was just expensive. [break][break]

But this one seemed fair enough so far. There'd been a questionable figure sat at the building's corner when he arrived. Luck had reached out to him with his Gift, searching for his feelings and only finding... shiftiness. A sort of watchfulness that had felt sticky in his mind. But the place was near-empty — most people were likely making supper or settling down to eat — which was a good trade. So he'd simply chosen a machine close to the front windows so he could keep an eye on his truck. [break][break]

Now, with his first load of clothes spinning in the washer and his second in a basket atop the dryer directly across from it, Luck chanced stepping outside for a smoke. He pulled out a single cigarette and left the rest of the pack atop his clothes, tucking it just barely down the side of his basket so it might not tempt anyone passing. The door chimed to announce his exit and, after testing the direction of the November breeze, he moved downwind — to the opposite corner of the building where the other man was still sat. He'd showered right before leaving and the ends of his hair were still wet — made cold on the edges of his face by the mid-Autumn air (growing crisper each passing night). But he ignored the bite as he lit up and took that first, almost-dizzying pull.

sometimes the wrong one leads you right[break]sometimes the right one leads you wrong

Tag: Open! [break]
Ask if you'd like it tagged/saved for you![break]Why are starters/opens so hard?

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[Darius Saeed]

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The apartment Darius lived at actually did have a washer and dryer, but the washer had broken down and the landlord was taking his sweet time getting it fixed, which had led Darius to a nearby laundromat. He had waited a few days, but when the landlord still ignored his texts, he had decided that he really needed to wash hi clothes. He couldn't arrive at the Sector yet another day with the same turtleneck. People had already looked at him funny yesterday, and someone had asked him if he had multiple of the same sweater. The man had chuckled and said yes, but it had been his wake-up call to go and wash the turtleneck he definitely didn't have multiple of.[break][break]

The November wind was nice, he thought. It wasn't too cold just yet, but cold enough to really feel alive when the breeze picked up and played with his curls. The swooshing sound of the wind whirling through his earrings was a sound and a feeling he had gotten used to over the years, and actually liked. Los Eurosia was completely different from Cairo, but it had its own charm. He didn't mind living here. It was still an incredible story of how he had gotten here. Years ago, Bridget had told him about the Sector in Cairo. She could have been a bit more careful with the information, but nobody could blame her for thinking a random Egyptian man was harmless. And he was harmless. Darius was just interested in helping and keeping everyone safe, human and gifted alike.[break][break]

But his studies, and the out of control gifteds on campus, had eventually brought him to the heart of the Sector, where he had met Bridget again after many years. He had met other Sector members as well, of course. And one of those members was standing in front of the laundromats when Darius arrived with his pack of laundry.[break][break]

"Luck", he greeted the man with a soft smile. Without realising it, his telepathic gift picked up on Luck's thoughts about the shifty figure sat nearby. Darius looked over his shoulder at the man, and then back at Luck. "Trouble, you think?" He wasn't sure if Luck knew about his telepathic gift, but he didn't hide it around Sector members, and it wouldn't be difficult to figure out that he had heard Luck's thoughts. Or maybe Luck thought Darius was just good at sensing trouble and shiftiness. He wouldn't head inside just yet. His laundry could wait. Luck and he hadn't had a lot of chances to talk yet, but Darius definitely knew the man from around the headquarters.

--- [break][break]

Tag: Luck Harris - better late than never for a response to an open thread, right!

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[Luck Harris]

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so take the low road[break]
take the high road, take whatever road you're on

Luck had finished about half of his cigarette when someone else pulled up in the parking lot and he angled himself away, eyes searching the sky while he ruminated absently upon the shady figure's feelings and emotions. It was a simple distraction at this point. Something to keep his mind off of everything else. He didn't want to think about what to make for dinner, about what the evening was going to look like, or the morning that would follow — all of it was almost daunting with the change and all the things that still needed sorted. The many more things that still needed faced and worked through. [break][break]

He turned quickly back at the sound of his name — unexpected, for sure. And when his eye landed on a recognizable crop of the thickest, healthiest hair he'd ever seen in his life and then to the soft smile that'd just finished forming his name, he dropped the cigarette from his lips with a too-quick, slightly-panicked inhale of smoke that (with an enormous amount of effort) he managed just not to choke on. [break][break]

It still burnt like hell.[break][break]

"Darius..." he greeted back, trying not to sound pained as he exhaled the name on a strained puff. His stomach bottomed and he tried to keep the reactionary unease from his face and from his mind. For the former effort... he did well not to grimace. For the latter... he imagined he was a little less successful. [break][break]

Luck tended to avoid Darius around headquarters whenever and wherever he could, for reasons enforced by the man immediately making it clear he'd picked up on a couple of Luck's thoughts already — his suspicious musings regarding the figure sat at the building's opposite corner. [break][break]

He tended to avoid him because a) Darius was telepathic and could read minds, b) for whatever reason (whether it was subconscious or a simple lack of restraint), he was pretty liberal about doing so, and c) because Luck was always just a little too conscious of the other man's presence in any room they happened to share. [break][break]

It wasn't an amazing combination.[break][break]

His eye traveled to the large, hoop earring looped through the man's earlobe; thick and golden. As always, it instantly brought an image of sweaty-banged, 90s-era Rob Thomas to mind and that was never a good launch point. Not that Darius resembled his childhood crush in literally any other way. And not that it mattered that he didn't — Darius was undeniably pretty. Painfully pretty. Not in the "real", rugged way Luck found most people pretty, but model pretty. The kind of pretty that made him wonder what life looked like for him. How he walked around, most definitely aware he was catching eyes wherever he went. Knowing he could charm with a look and that someone probably couldn't think half the time they were speaking to him. That, to many, it probably didn't even matter what he said. [break][break]

Was that easy for someone? Or was it difficult? [break][break]

It was the kind of pretty that... knowing Darius could and probably was reading your thoughts... when you saw him coming your way, you either buckled down with bold confidence or you turned down a different hall. And Luck — most days, he'd damn near hurdle himself over cubicle walls to get out of the man's path.[break][break]

"Ah," he glanced toward the figure Darius looked at over his shoulder, then shifted his weight from one foot to the other and tried to think nothing at all beyond the inquiry and, of course, the effort of thinking nothing at all. "You're probably a better judge of it than me," he answered in a low, easy tone — trying to sound amused. He did well. He thought. Maybe. "Don't know what's better to judge trouble by — feelings or thoughts." [break][break]

It was a reference to their Gifts and the argument over which might be more illuminating — telepathy or empathy. Luck figured, in the end, without someone possessing both, there'd always be room for misinterpretation and misunderstanding. One couldn't surmise entirely what one was feeling off their thoughts alone... just as someone couldn't discern what someone was thinking off their feelings alone.

Tag: Darius Saeed [break]
Notes: Give me a nudge for any changes!

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[Darius Saeed]

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Darius was unaware of what Luck was going through with his cigarette, because he didn't smoke, so even if he had noticed something, he would think it was just what smoking looked like. He couldn't imagine it feeling great either way, whether it was a successful inhale or one that burnt. He greeted Darius back, to which he nodded once. They didn't know each other well but they had definitely seen each other around. Just like with the cigarette, he hadn't noticed that Luck tended to avoid him in the HQ. Maybe he wasn't as observant as he liked to believe.[BREAK][BREAK]
He felt Luck's slight unease, but tuned off his telepathy a bit because he didn't feel like intruding and figuring out why the man felt uncomfortable. His gift could be very invasive and he didn't necessarily enjoy always knowing what someone was thinking. He did pick up on 'pretty', but Darius decided to not try to figure out who or what was pretty. Things like that were tricky. Private thoughts deserved the right to stay private. [Break][break]

Darius asked about the man he had noticed in the parking lot, and saw Luck glancing at the figure. He smiled in response to the reference to their gifts. "A combination of the both makes for an undeniable conclusion, though", he said, partly as an invitation to both use their gift on the man, but not really sure he wanted to explore the strange figure's thoughts. "You doing laundry?" he asked, trying to get past the awkwardness and nodding in the direction of the store. "The washer and dryer in my complex are broken, so it's time for my to try and figure out unfamiliar washers and dryers." Darius chuckled lightly, hoping it sounded amusing and not pathetic. He wasn't good at figuring out new machines and technology.

--- [break][break]

Tag: Luck Harris

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