no one man should have all that power

[perro]

CHARACTERS: rene ramirez y tú.
LOCATIONS: the ice castle, sucker punch, all over the city.
WARNINGS: none rn! will edit if that changes.
SUMMARY: OPEN catch-all log for rene ramirez for the month of august! come hang out with ya boi. closed starters in the comments, too. feel free to hmu at frickin / canary#4628 to plot w/ me, get a closed starter of your very own, or honestly just go on with your bad self and write something spontaneous to start us off!

THE ICE CASTLE.

( alright, so maybe this ain't exactly the type of gig rene was looking for when coming to this weird ass city, especially coming off from his swanky job as the deputy mayor's assistant in star city. it's definitely familiar, though, which is kinda nice. he thinks he might've even gotten a job back at star city's ice complex when he was a teenager if the managers there weren't so acutely aware of his history of aggressively chirping at opponents and instigating line brawls during the rink's own house league hockey games.

maybe you're a pro who left your skates at home, or someone just looking to learn the ropes at the ice castle's daily public skating session. rene's kind of a multipurpose worker here; he rocks a yellow jacket that reads "STAFF" across the back as he stands at the skate rental window, tries not to sound so dead inside as he asks: ) What size? Hockey or figure?

( he likes being a skate guard a hell of a lot more than manning the rental booth, especially dreading the horror of spraying each boot and wiping each blade clean as he puts them back at the end of his shift. the two hour public skating session allows him to let loose for a little bit, lace up his skates and skate the perimeter and generally mind his own business while making sure jackasses aren't trying to cut little kids off or icing innocent bystanders by the door when they aggressively skid to a stop, even if the temptation to really go for it and just speed around the corners with all his might is strong.

— shit, yeah, someone definitely busted ass bad over by the blue line. rene hustles over and stops with ease, a concerned eyebrow raised as he extends a hand. ) You good?

( maybe you're one of the little shits who likes to enjoy every last millisecond of your precious ice time that you paid for, and you linger on the ice even though it's 2:59:35 PM and rene's already got the big double doors at the end open, and he's climbing back up into the seat of the zamboni and cruising on out, aggressively beeping. ) Session's up, man! I ain't afraid to run you over!

SUCKER PUNCH.

( when he's not at work, rene's probably at sucker punch. honestly, the eternally tired-looking woman manning the front check-in desk once woke up enough to comment, "you again? i didn't even see you leave last night."

sucker punch is kinda what constitutes as rene's happy place here in cadelle, if he's even capable of such a thing. it's hard to feel happy when you're constantly worried about your little girl back at home, who probably thinks you don't give a damn about her, who thinks you abandoned her —

he spends hours at the punching bag instead, rapidfire punch after rapidfire punch as muttered curses in both english and spanish intermingle with his grunts until he thinks his knuckles might bleed — scratch that, until his knuckles do bleed, and it takes him a long time to notice shining red that barely stands out against the worn black leather of the bag, mostly noticing the smear of blood against his skin beneath his gloves.

it's probably an intense sight to see, but rene doesn't give a shit. nah, he just undoes the velcro of his gloves and lets them fall to the mat on the floor, sighs, almost defeated, as he lifts his hands to examine the damage, cringes as he flexes his fingers. )

AROUND THE CITY.

( perhaps you'd like to encounter rene elsewhere in the city; even though he's trying not to fall into old, bad habits, he might spend a night or two a week unwinding at the colonel's with a beer and watching some kind of sports or another from a bar stool, or maybe he'll be lucky enough to stumble in on criminALEs. the green room is definitely his style, too, if it means he can actually beat someone at something, even if it's gotta be pool. the vigilante wild dog, hockey mask on and twin pistols a-blazing, may even be spotted after night falls, when crime is afoot. get ready for his especially terrible brand of vigilantism, cadelle. )

Comments

omg gaby u cutie

[perro]

( rene can't help the tiny grin that seems permanently etched onto his face, despite how sympathetic he tries to appear as he looks down at gaby. it's not that he doesn't feel bad, but there's just something about the way her agitation seems to grow by the millisecond that's almost kinda funny.

but he does offer gaby his hand, and a small platitude. ) If it makes you feel any better, those five year olds probably had their overbearing hockey dads lacing skates onto them before they could even walk on land.

Besides, I'm pretty sure them figure skater chicks fall on their asses more than you'd think.

[myownwoman]

[ it's a change from her un-emotive male friends, that's for sure, but gaby can't help the way her nose scrunches up as she lets him help her up. she wobbles almost immediately and her other hand flies to his forearm to help support her. ]

I was a ballerina, balance should be natural for me. [ and it's annoying that it isn't. she appreciates his comment about figure skaters, but she's fairly certain that they fall doing complicated spins and jumps and not going in a straight line on a flat surface.

whereas one of those five year olds is skating backwards now, mocking her probably. ]

[perro]

Yeah, well, a lot of things should be natural to a lot of people and they ain't. ( the little wobble that sends her grabbing for his forearm doesn't really catch him by surprise; he's used to this kind of thing. usually it's, well, clumsy kids on the ice, but honestly? maybe this is a nice change of pace.

rene's free hand goes to gaby's own forearm, his knees slightly bent to he can help steady her. ) You can't go too hard too fast with this kinda thing, you know? Sounds silly, but easiest way to figure out your balance on blades is to march in place first, then you can try marching forward before you get into the complicated stuff.

Go on, try it — I'll even let you keep holding onto me if it'll make you feel better. ( so much for rene choosing not to be one of the skating instructors 'cause he didn't want to deal with kids that aren't his own (she picked up skating so easily it almost freaked him out). at least gaby's lucky that she won't have to pay a half-hourly rate; this little lesson is being done gratis. )

[myownwoman]

[ gaby looks at him, calculative, mouth twisting to the side thoughtfully. marching on ice seems like a very easy method to look like a complete imbecile and she's already done a stellar job doing that already, all on her own. still! she wants to learn to ice skate again.

the slant of her mouth turns into a frown but she starts marching, feeling absurd, huffing out a breath. ]

My parents taught me when I was very small, but I barely remember. [ her foster parents that is, if udo teller taught her, she has no memory of it. also she was prime teachable age during world war ii in germany so, you know, not exactly the time. the upside is that skates haven't changed much from the 1960s so she at least recognized the contraptions. ]

Germany wasn't even invited to the first Olympics I can remember. [ all said to her feet instead of her companion because she's failing all her ballet and dance training all at once today. ]

[perro]

( germany — so that's where this chick is from. he's not good with the whole placing accents thing.

but hey, she's doing a pretty almost-decent job at marching in place, so that's something. rene can even manage to look impressed, offer a compliment. ) Hey, look at you, mama. You're doing better already.

( she might think she looks ridiculous, but hell, anything's gotta be better than falling on your ass so much you end up with a bruised tailbone, right? she's doing better than the clumsy couple over in the corner that keep getting their blades tangled up in one another and crashing in a not-even-cute-looking heap. ) Aight, we're gonna start moving now. Just start moving forward. I ain't gonna let you fall.

( a pretty hefty promise, but rene's sure he can deliver; he's content to glide backwards, keep his grip on her as she does so. but, as an aside, ) Germany wasn't invited? I don't remember that. Though I guess nothing ever tops that one figure skater chick knocking the other one's legs out so she'd lose.

[myownwoman]

[ gaby's eyes widen as her gaze darts up like a startled deer, but she nods a moment later, looking back down at the ice and turning her little march in place into a march forward. part of her wishes she could just hang on while he scooted her around, but she knows she'd much prefer to skate on her own.

or maybe she will decide she hates it and never come back, we just don't know. so far it's only marginally demeaning.

eventually she feels steady enough to speak again. ] I don't remember that, but I suppose I should mention the first Olympics I remember were in 1948. And I was ten.

[ so you know probably didn't live through whatever he remembers. ]