Travis Touchdown (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rank1) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
returnjourneylogs2022-03-19 09:22 pm
rank1) wrote in returnjourneylogs2022-03-19 09:22 pm
#11
Passengers: Travis Touchdown and Rhys Strongfork and Lucifer Morningstar
Location: An elevator
Date: mid March
Summary: Lucifer is like "wow I got the two most annoying inmates, let's lock them in a room together to sort things out!!" and ideally Travis will not fucking kill Rhys
Warnings: ideally Travis will not fucking kill Rhys but i'll let u knowwww
Noon at the gym. Travis is in his designated gym t-shirt, the sacrificial lamb from his collection that is navy blue and declares him to be WORLD FAMOUS. He does not own gym shorts, either here or at home, but here he cannot work out in the nude without being called a pervert or something. Maybe next month when the commissary opens he'll buy a pair. For now: jeans.
He waits at the gym door, head back, humming to himself, drumming his fingers on his thigh. He wonders if Rhys will pussy out of anything heavier than 10lbs. Probably. That guy looks like he was made for pushing papers, not work. Lucifer might do a little better, but he doesn't look like the kind of guy to tolerate gym shit very long. Short session, Travis bets.
Smash cut to getting in an elevator with the two guys. No gym after all. What a fucking bait-and-switch.
"The fuck is the point of this," Travis says, mostly to himself. The doors start to slide closed behind him, and he pivots on a heel, confused: Lucifer has not boarded the elevator, and Travis finds himself looking at an ever-narrowing slice of Lucifer's face. He calls back, wary: "Dude, what's the deal?"
Location: An elevator
Date: mid March
Summary: Lucifer is like "wow I got the two most annoying inmates, let's lock them in a room together to sort things out!!" and ideally Travis will not fucking kill Rhys
Warnings: ideally Travis will not fucking kill Rhys but i'll let u knowwww
Noon at the gym. Travis is in his designated gym t-shirt, the sacrificial lamb from his collection that is navy blue and declares him to be WORLD FAMOUS. He does not own gym shorts, either here or at home, but here he cannot work out in the nude without being called a pervert or something. Maybe next month when the commissary opens he'll buy a pair. For now: jeans.
He waits at the gym door, head back, humming to himself, drumming his fingers on his thigh. He wonders if Rhys will pussy out of anything heavier than 10lbs. Probably. That guy looks like he was made for pushing papers, not work. Lucifer might do a little better, but he doesn't look like the kind of guy to tolerate gym shit very long. Short session, Travis bets.
Smash cut to getting in an elevator with the two guys. No gym after all. What a fucking bait-and-switch.
"The fuck is the point of this," Travis says, mostly to himself. The doors start to slide closed behind him, and he pivots on a heel, confused: Lucifer has not boarded the elevator, and Travis finds himself looking at an ever-narrowing slice of Lucifer's face. He calls back, wary: "Dude, what's the deal?"