hadriel_logs | Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...

Entry tags:

whistler

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...

Who: Whistler + OTA
What: Whistler decides to voluntarily leave his apartment for once
Where: Around town
When: Now
Warnings: N/A. Will change if needed. Update: Warnings for some discussion of self-harm in Whistler and Julie thread.

It was odd. Generally the heat didn't bother Whistler much, not so long as he was inside anyway. But today it seemed to be getting to him. The skin of his back kept sticking just a little too much to the floor as he tried to work and his palms kept getting slick with sweat to a point where it made fiddling with small wires too frustrating.

But if he couldn't work there wasn't much he could be doing while he was holed up inside.

Which was how he ended up outside. Something that is normally only done out of dire necessity: when he needs groceries. But today he's giving it a very tentative chance. Mostly just to get himself moving. To feel something other than floorboards and stone walls.

If you look for him at his apartment you will only find a messily scribbled message jokingly saying 'Gone Fishing' (inspired by his conversation with a young man only the day before). But hey you should be impressed that it is legible at all given the circumstances. And he mostly figures no one is going to come looking for him.

But if they do he can be found in various locations:

Pools near the outside of town

Whistler has shrugged off his shirt and rolled up his pant legs so that he can lay with his legs in the water, back on the sand with his shirt over his face so as to protect his eyes. He's naturally tan so he's not overly worried about getting burned, but even so he's made sure to lay in a patch of shade. After all, tan or no tan, two suns is two suns.

Around the shops

Whistler can either be found shuffling along the town streets with his cane swinging in front of him or sitting on a bench picking at a berry muffin with his fingers and placing small bites of it almost delicately into his mouth. He's savoring it, thank you very much.

Wildcard

Want to bump into him in a shop? Maybe you catch sight of the blind man about to try on a horrific technicolor t-shirt? Or you see him in the park napping?

Choose your own adventure.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Julie has grown so used to his shyness when she prods particular nerves that she thinks nothing of it, just shaking her head to herself and shifting position when he moves away from her.]

You should, you know. I'm going to laugh at you if you get sunstroke. [She pauses, then hums.] I mean, I'll help you, but I'm still going to laugh.

[Whistler is glad for the distraction of fumbling for his clothes, searching for them with his palms splayed against the sand, but in his attempts to distract himself from other thoughts with his clothes hunting, he doesn't realize that he's forgotten to acknowledge what Julie just said]

[She watches him, her lips slightly pursed. It's not like him to not respond to her, but it looks like he has bigger problems right now than her gently making fun of him.]

... You want some help finding everything?

U-uh, no, I got it, that's ok.

[He very clearly does not got it as he just shuffled past his pants]

Um...

[The young woman frowns and bites her lip. Far be it from her to rob him of his independence, but she doesn't think he got it.]

Irwin. Let me help?

[He tries a few more long moments before reaching up a hand to irritatedly scratch at his drying hair. The irritation is not with her but with himself. Yes, his inability to locate his own clothing is part of it. And he doesn't like her seeing him so incapable of such a small, basic thing.

But it's more than just that. That is the surface issue. Beneath that is now the pit in his stomach, churning and twisting with uncomfortable fears and new revelations about himself.

At long last he sits back on his heels, defeated]

If...if you don't mind...

Wouldn't offer if I minded. Relax.

[God, Whistler, you're so awkward.

She stands up, and picks her way around him to pick up and loosely fold his pants and shirt, placing them down in front of him. While she moves, she hums idly to herself.]

Clothes on the left, shoes on the right. Just in front of you.

Must be the heat

[He offers quietly as he moves to start dressing, pants first followed by his shirt and his shoes. Then he stands up, brushing some of the sand off of himself]

Thanks.

[By now, Julie's all but entirely dried off, and she's sure being in the water is going to end with her shoulders burned. It wouldn't be the first time, and even the brown glow she's obtained through being here so long doesn't always protect her from the fierceness of the sun when they're both in the sky.

She stretches her arms out, making a comfortable sound.]

Hmmm... this was nice.

Well, uh, we could do it again sometime

[He digs a hand into one of his pockets to take out his cane. Now dressed and for the most part dried (alas, thick hair sometimes takes ages to get out all the damp even with two suns) he feels somewhat calmer.]

Unless you just got badly sunburned. Then maybe we shouldn't.

Hah. You do need to get out more. It's a date.

[She slips her shoes on, lifting one foot then the other to pull the straps of the sandals up over her heels.]

You got somewhere you wanna be?

[Despite the awkward way that particular choice of wording lands in his chest, he manages an easy off-handed laugh.]

Doesn't this count as enough outside time?

[He steps up to be closer to where she's standing]

Maybe somewhere less outside than inside.

[She hums out a low noise, casting her eyes around them. Finding somewhere outside, but not somewhere they're both going to end up baked to a crisp really narrows the options down.

She's not about to let him retreat back into hermitry just yet.]

What about the park? There's trees. Getting some fresh air will not kill you, I promise.

[He makes a show of making a face. That was more outside than he had meant. But he drops his head to the side after]

Lead the way

[Defeated voice is defeated]

[Pft!] God, you're so easy. C'mon.

[It's funny to her that he doesn't argue, that he just makes a face at her but bends entirely to her suggestion. Funny, but sweet, and she finds her step quite light as she walks away from the water, turning her head to make sure he's following.]

Hey, you want to get hold of my arm?

That's what they called me in college: Irwin 'Easy' Emery.

[The farthest from the truth, but he figures she could put that together for herself. He holds out a hand expectantly for her arm]

I don't think they called you that. [She snickers at him, backing up to loop his arm through hers.]

How'd you end up with a name like 'Whistler'?

Hey. You weren't there.

[He smirks, hooking his arm through hers.]

Mm. I'm gonna let you take a guess. How do you think I got the name?

Oh, come on, that's not fair.

[She nudges him lightly while they walk, keeping his arm tucked close to her side.] Uhhhmm... I don't think I've ever heard you actually whistle...

[Well let him treat you to a show right now then, he whistles a little ditty which is actually the Mickey Mouse Club tune but it devolves to quiet chuckles]

I don't know...I'm not sure if I should let my greatest secret out.

That's your greatest secret? Not the 'we discovered a universal black box codebreaker'? Ugh. I've been lied to.

[But she's grinning at him, watching the path ahead for the both of them while they walk.]

C'mon, tell me.

One man's trash is another man's treasure...one man's greatest secret is another man's....i dunno...not their greatest secret?

[It's gotten natural again. The feeling of walking together. Joking stupidly about things. He doesn't want that to change.]

It's, uh, it's how you hack phone lines. You gotta listen for different pitches and you gotta be able to recreate them to override the system. So you...well...you gotta whistle. So I guess it started as a job description. I was a whistler. Now...well...now I'm just Whistler.

[She makes an impressed sound, an 'oooh' of curiosity and interest.]

It's... It's weird thinking of you being a criminal. [Julie laughs. As weird as it is, she clearly doesn't mind it.]

You're so... I dunno. Unassuming, I guess? No one's gonna look at you and think god, yeah, that guy's a troublemaker. [A beat.] Unless they heard your jokes. Then they might change their mind.

[He snorts, the sound breathy and nasal. Hitting him below the belt, eh Julie?]

Well, I don't really think of myself as a criminal. But I guess that sort of worked to my advantage. No one is ever gunna suspect the blind guy, right? So I get to kind of slip under everyone's radar.

[A shrug]

But technically I'm legit now. Well...mostly. 'Cause of Bishop.

[There's been some recent problems, however... and technically the deal Bishop had made at the start of this whole mess had only guaranteed that his record would be cleared, not the rest of the team's.

So...maybe really he was just still a criminal.]

No one suspects the blind guy. That's so sneaky.

[A good point, though. Whistler's not exactly the kind of guy you'd expect to see in a criminal lineup, and definitely not the kind of guy she would have expected a criminal to be like.]

But, ah, I see. A 'mostly legit' phone hacker. Mmmmhm.

[She's teasing, lightly baiting him to see how he'll react.]

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