ioduanlogs | [closed-ish] July catch-all

Entry tags:

[closed-ish] July catch-all

Characters: Kit + others
Date: throughout July
Location: Around Aifaran
Situation: a catch-all log for July! I won't be posting any open prompts, but if you’d like a specific starter, DM me here, ping me on plurk @ ragweed, or on discord @ middlemarching#9936.
Warnings/Rating: None currently, will update as needed.

I. Drink to forget? (closed to Zephyr)

It is an especially hot and humid night that finds Kit--and, presumably, Zephyr--drinking together on the dingy veranda of a waterfront bar, talking--or not--over a game of cards. The night has gotten away from Kit somewhat, but he feels no pressure to pick himself up and find his way back to the Bridge; the Dreaming has seen fit to make it impossible for him to get a good night’s rest.

All the more reason to ignore the time displayed on his yimo, and to deal another hand.

He tucks a lit cigarette into the corner of his mouth and gathers up the cards that are spread across their table, shuffling them again. “All right,” he decides, quirking a crooked smile, “this time I won’t go easy on you, salroka.” The games Kit knows are simple, even if they have journeyed with him to this place from a foreign dimension; the basics of how to gamble don’t seem to change much between universes.

II. I didn't want this stupid thing anyway (Justice 2; closed to Konoe)

"Fine, take the damn thing. I didn't want it in the first place."

The Bresilykian Sentry (who now has hold of the defunct metal detector that had been foisted off onto Kit the previous month) does not look at all impressed by the lip being given to him by the scowling dwarf standing before him. He lifts a finger. "This is your last warning, Gandir," he says sternly. "One more misstep, and there will be consequences."

It's a dire-sounding warning, but if it instills anything beyond increased aggravation in Kit, it's hard to say. His gaze remains hard as the Sentry leaves, but once he rounds the busy street corner and is gone from sight, Kit breathes out and chafes a hand against his jaw. It's good to be rid of the piece of garbage, but now he just wishes he could track down the merchant who insisted he purchased it in the first place, and give the guy a piece of his mind.

Instead, he leans back against the wall and lights a cigarette. A few minutes later, it starts to rain.

Typical.

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Konoe wasn't doing very good and it was probably pretty obvious from the way that he looked like he hadn't slept well for the past week, not to mention his fur was unusually unkempt. He brought his hood up over head head as the rain started falling down, but it didn't stop the sharp sting of resentment that drove through his heart.

He stopped, clutching his chest, looking around for the source, only to find the short dwarf person he'd had talked to before. Oddly enough, that made him almost relax, as the man had been almost safe to be around before.

The lingering anger wasn't helping, though. "It's you...what are you doing out here?"

It's a weary sort of anger, of the variety that realizes it's impotent and serves no purpose, and so it fizzles when Kit glances up and spots Konoe. The recognition on his face is fairly instantaneous, and he frowns, taking in the sight of the kid in his sodden clothes. He puts out his cigarette and pushes himself away from the wall.

"Putting up with their garbage," he says, gesturing after the Sentry so it's clear who holds his ire. "Nothing out of the ordinary there." He squints, tilting his head some. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Konoe said harshly, looking him in the eye until he couldn't bear it anymore. His crooked tail twitched back and forth.

"I don't get what they are trying to enforce." The one good thing about ribika being relatively solitary creatures is that even in settlements, conflicts that happened were usually handled personally or by a leader. He didn't quite get the concept of a police force; the closest thing would be bounty hunters, and Rai operated under different rules.

Konoe desperately wanted to ask about the visions, if this man had seen anything, but he was reluctant to trust him even more than he did already. Besides, it was cold and he gave himself a little shake to get off some of the chill.

"I don't get what they are trying to enforce."

"The only thing folks like that try to reinforce is who's in charge." Someone's got an axe to grind with authority, sounds like.

But the rain seems to be intensifying rather than letting up, and Kit grimaces, waving Konoe after him. "Come on, the skytrain station is a block or two this way." The Dreaming Bridge might not be the most exciting of destinations, but it's dry, and there's a lot to be said for that right now.

Konoe stared after the Sentry, the tip of his tail twitching. He'd met far too many cats like that before, who tried to assert their dominance over anyone instead of just defending their pride, and it gave rise to a small flicker of anger. Kit waving him on snapped him out of it though, and he just stared miserably back at the smaller man.

Wherever Kit took him, he just silently followed closely, not wanting to admit he had absolutely no idea how to get back to his room. Konoe didn't know if Kit knew him well enough to know he was acting off, but he just hoped he wouldn't ask.

Learning how to read a stranger was a useful skill for a poor duster kid to have if he expected to survive long as a casteless dwarf in Orzammar. There is most assuredly something 'off' about Konoe, but for now, Kit doesn't acknowledge it; they're out in public, for one thing, and the pissing rain is unpleasant.

He pays the fare for both of them to get into the station and then heads up to the train platform. "Five minutes," he muses aloud, reading the display announcing the wait times for the trains, then glances at Konoe. He tries not to size the boy up too noticeably, lest he give the impression he's trying to scrutinize (or worse, pick up a kid young enough to be his son).

"How're you doing, anyway?" he asks after a moment or two, voice pitched quietly so anyone else nearby on the platform won't be able to easily overheard.

Konoe didn't like these train things; they were loud and usually stuffed with too many people. He just drew his cloak up around him and curled his knees up to his chin. Somehow he knew his usual answer of 'I'm fine' wouldn't cut it here.

"I keep seeing things in my sleep. I don't know who any of them are." His reply was short and curt.

"I keep seeing things in my sleep. I don't know who any of them are."

Kit glances sideways--and then down, since that's evidently where Konoe is now. Huh. He chafes a hand against the side of his neck and gives the area around them a quick onceover, just to make sure no one nearby has any interest in eavesdropping. Then, grimacing, he says, "Yeah. I've had them too. I think everyone like us--Dreamfolk, I mean--is having them."

That wasn't quite news to him, having heard that from other people from what little he could decipher on his magic box and from the actions of his roommates. It didn't make him feel any better about his own predicament, though.

"I wish they would stop-I don't know any of these people, they aren't cats, and it hurts everytime!" Konoe growled.

"Yeah," Kit begins with a sympathetic grimace, "me too--wait."

The visions have been vivid. They've been alarming. They've been downright heartbreaking. But thus far, none have left him in physical pain. He turns to look at Konoe more fully, frowning in transparent worry. "The visions are hurting you?"

That got Konoe to look up at his companion. He knew that he had empathy and it lent a bigger connection to other people than he really wanted, but he'd just assumed it had been that real and frightful for everyone else.

"Is it not supposed to be? Every single time I feel like I am the one trapped and dying, and I wake up still feeling their emotions," he said, his ears drooping.

Well, shit. How are his heart strings supposed to withstand that? Maybe it's the combination of the drooping ears and tail that does it, or the fact that this kid is clearly brimming over with feelings that he doesn't want to experience--both those that belong to him, and those that don't.

He has his own issues with dreams to contend with, but--well, Konoe has enough to grapple with on his own.

"Yeah," he admits, grimacing, "it's like that for me, while I'm dreaming. Once I wake up though, I don't feel like that anymore."

"It doesn't end there. I wish it would end there," Konoe growled, his leg kicking the seat. It still hurt from where the person in the dream broke it. He couldn't even remember when he last ate something substantial, though he was desperately wishing the visions were done. "There's just...too many emotions."

And he didn't want to tell Kit about how he was cursed; he already loathed himself for it enough even if the physical marks vanished.

"There's just...too many emotions."

The platform under his boots gives a tell-tale rumble indicating the arrival of the next train--probably theirs. Kit grimaces and ambles a few steps nearer, then crouches down next to Konoe.

(He doesn't know how to start this conversation, but he can't leave this kid alone.)

"I wish I had some easy answers for you," he admits heavily, elbows on his knees, and watches the train rattle into the station. He glances back at Konoe with raised eyebrows. "I only know what I do, when I get caught up in my thoughts."

Konoe's ears flicked up at the sound of the train, then down again to shut some of it out. Instead he shook his head at whatever Kit was saying, his hands over his chest. "You don't understand-it's not thoughts-it's their emotions! I can't get rid of their emotions!"

"This is you going easy?" Zephyr quirks a smile in return. He likes the cards well enough, but he loses just as many as he wins, with Kit.

He's never quite bothered to ask what salroka means. It doesn't sound like an insult, the way Kit says it, and that's good enough.

He shrugs, rolling his shoulders, and tucks a leg up under him, shifting his weight so he doesn't get too stiff in the chair. It's been a longish night. Pleasant; but long. "Go on and deal, bud. I'm not going anywhere. Bring it."

"Go on and deal, bud. I'm not going anywhere. Bring it."

"Really?" He smiles around his cigarette, reshuffling the cards before deftly dealing another hand. "Surprised you're willing to put up with me when I'm wiping the floor with you like this." There's a friendly glitter in his eye when he says that; he's kidding! (Mostly.)

When a server comes by to refill their drinks, Kit nods once at him before glancing Zephyr's way. "Want another?" Whether he does or not, Kit keeps dealing the cards; he's got at least one more round in him, and Zephyr has turned out to be good company.

"What can I say, I learn best that way." Zephyr's grin is lazier, quieter, as he catches up the cards Kit has dealt to him and arranges them in his hand. Not the best assortment; but certainly not the worst he's seen that night, either. "You're just teaching me how to beat you. Again: bring it."

It's big talk. He can't help himself.

He shakes his head at the latter. "Nah, this is fine." His first drink is more than half-empty, but he's still nursing it, and he doesn't like to get too drunk.

"You're just teaching me how to beat you. Again: bring it."

"Hey, I like a challenge."

Maybe it's just a trick of the dim lighting on this patio, but Kit's eyes linger on that lazy grin for a second or two, before he looks back to his drink and brings it up for a sip. Doing so gives his gaze time to wander out across the foggy waterfront, to where the derelict Narrakra is now moored in the harbour.

Its return has cast a grim pall across everything--even lazy evenings out with friends. Kit drums a finger against the tabletop. "What a month, huh?" he remarks, attempting to say so with a bit of a smile.

"Sure hope you do, at this rate." This is a bit of a boast; Zephyr is not at all that fast at catching up, but he's sure as hell going to try. He can't let Kit keep beating him so easily.

He rearranges his cards again, nods to the table. And sighs. "Yeah, what a month. I mean, we haven't had to fend off some kind of monster attack yet, but at this point it's only a matter of time, right?"

It's weird. He hadn't entirely expected this place to be a respite, but there's something disappointing about the same problems following from place to place.

"Figures," Kit mumbles around his cigarette, considering the hand of cards in his grasp, and then plays it. It's a good hand, based on the rules that he's explained to Zephyr; tough to beat, but not impossible, if luck is on his side. "I leave the shit hole corner of one world and land myself in the middle of something equally sinister here. I knew the beaches were too good to be true."

Zephyr frowns, spreading his cards out on the table. His luck is not, at the moment, all that great. "Pretty sure this one's you."

What a shame. But he's here more for the company, anyway. "Hey, at least you have beaches, right? If there's going to be some kind of trouble, you may as well enjoy the nice parts while you're at it. Nice scenery, good company." That might be a bit presumptuous, but whatever, he and Kit have been companionable enough.

"Pretty sure this one's you."

He grins and collects up the cards. "Can't win 'em all," he says. Then that comment catches his attention.

Maybe it shouldn't; Kit has enjoyed many a personable evening out with genial acquaintances before, and it hadn't always lead to places other than back to the bar for a refill. Sometimes it had, though.

"Good company, huh?" He reaches up to take hold of his cigarette, then taps the excess ash off into a tray on the table. He glances across at Zephyr with his eyebrows raised, smiling a little. (He's easy come, easy go about these things; won't wound his pride any if he's wrong about his hunch.)

"Yeah, but I sure would like to win more than one or two." Despite his words, Zephyr seems pretty happy with the arrangement they're in. He folds his cards together, sets them down.

Kit's a decent guy. There's probably a proper friendship brewing in here somewhere. Zephyr's going to try his best not to have a crisis about that, because he can practically feel the girls beating him over the head with it. "I mean, unless I've got the wrong idea and you're not having fun taking me for all I've got." The smile's a tiny bit brittle, but it's real.

He ought to bring that smile out a little more; it's nice, slight though it is.

"I mean, unless I've got the wrong idea and you're not having fun taking me for all I've got."

Kit laughs again and drops his eyes to consider the burning end of his cigarette. He brings it up for a drag, blows the smoke off to the side, then shrugs one shoulder. "Sure I am," he replies, then glances up at Zephyr again; he doesn't lose his smile but seems to deliberate over something for a moment or two. Then he leans in a little.

"I just wondered which one I was, is all. Good company, or good scenery."

A little extended eye contact, some raised eyebrows--does he get it now?

~~he's being gay at you zephyr~~

It doesn't quite click for Zephyr, which is not a reflection on Kit's skills but rather exactly how oblivious Zephyr himself is.

He likes Kit well enough; there's good banter, and fun games, and it feels like it could be a really easy friendship. He's... not entirely sure why Kit is asking if he's pretty. (That is what Kit's doing, right? Mostly it was Sara and Kana doing that, so Zephyr's just a little bit out of his depth here, but yeah, okay, Kit's handsome enough.)

Zephyr raises his eyebrows right back, though his are more faintly confused than suggestive. "Can't you be both?"

"Can't you be both?"

An easy shrug. Kit fiddles with the end of his cigarette, eyeing it. "For you, I'm prepared to be," he says, before glancing up again. He smiles a little crookedly, and, "For a couple hours, anyway."

He takes another puff off his cigarette while he waits.

Hang on a minute.

Zephyr is not the most stupid man in the world. He can read some situations. In this case he finally puts some meaningfulness to Kit's smile and words conjoined.

"Um," Zephyr says aloud, poleaxed. (Allen, says his heart. Allen who Zephyr in no way deserves.) "...do you get more handsome?"

This is, it must be said, a buyer of time.

Well, that's one he hadn't been expecting.

Kit cracks a grin and chuckles, ducking his head. "Sorry, salroka, I think this is as good as it gets," he says, still smiling. Absently, he taps the excess ash off the end of his cigarette again, then watches the man across from him, considering.

...truthfully, he knows a delaying tactic when he spots one, having utilized it himself occasionally. (And if he knew the reasons why, maybe his own heart would clench a little, too. Vandelin, who Kit also, in no way, deserves.)

"Hey," he begins, lifting a hand and sounding a little apologetic, "if I put you on the spot..." He trails off.

"Then you're probably stuck as both good company and good scenery," Zephyr says easily. They could banter like this, couldn't they?

...well, Zephyr might have to actually face whatever his emotions are doing, now that Kit's calling him on it. He sighs, shoves a hand back through his hair, and thinks about it. Really thinks about it, mortal Kit and his clever fingers and quick smile and the way he has of taking Zephyr for everything he's got.

"Don't think there's any way to be with that, but on the spot," Zephyr says casually, waving the apology off. "No, it's-- I'm kind of a mess, buddy, I don't know what I'm doing here." Pause. Shit, that came out wrong. "I mean-- you're good people. That's not the thing." Why does anyone let him talk? Right, no one's here to hit him over the head when he's gone too far.

He watches Zephyr's fingers disappear into his hair, caught between noticing the effect of the patio lights on his skin, and the clear indecision brought on by his blunt flirtation. Kit shifts his eyes to his cigarette and studies it instead, before taking a drag off of it; this is why he's a smoker, really. Gives him something to do with his hands when his nerves start to get the better of him.

"...I mean--you're good people. That's not the thing."

"Oh yeah?" If his crooked little smile is anything to go by, he's not offended by Zephyr's gaff--maybe endeared by it a little. Still, he can't stop himself from absently scratching at his beard a little; this is usually when the 'it's not you, it's me' spiel arrives, and he finds himself preparing for it. He waves his cigarette-wielding hand in a little aimless gesture. "I mean, it's all right. You don't," another little gesture, "owe me an explanation, or anything. It's fine."

The problem is, it is Zephyr. Cliché as it is, it's his own mess of an existence that's the issue here.

He lets his breath out slow and rolls into it. "I'm coming out of a hell of a mess, back home," he says bluntly. "And I'm pretty dumb about some things." This is an understatement, he thinks. "Have you been thinking about this for a while? Am I just-- really, really confused?" He just wants to know how much he's missed, okay.

"For a bit," comes Kit's reluctant, somewhat sheepish admission, which he makes more to his cigarette than to Zephyr.

He looks back at him with some added softness in his eyes. "I get it, though. Things being a mess. I cocked things up royally back where I'm from before I--" Before I died. No, that's probably not what Zephyr wants to hear right now, is it? He scratches at his beard and looks away. "...Before I ended up here."

Good to know, Zephyr's just really oblivious.

He's... not actually surprised by his own failures on that front.

He leans over, rests his forehead on the table with a brisk thump. "Yeah," he says. "Same."

The soul of eloquence.

But they have been drinking, and the night is no longer young, and Zephyr honestly doesn't know what the hell he wants, here and now. "Ask me again another time," he says into the table, sounding more pathetic than he means to.

It's better than an outright 'no thanks'--and it's a glimpse of a side of Zephyr that Kit hasn't had occasion to see before. He takes another drag from his cigarette and taps off the excess ash, smiling a little to himself. Hey, at least he isn't the only one whose life is a hot mess, back in his own world.

Well. Was a hot mess. Truthfully, this is the only life he's got left, now.

"Sure will," he says to the top of Zephyr's head where he still remains slumped against the table. A moment later and he adds, chuckling, "Might even buy you a drink first, before I take you to the cleaners playing cards."

"Better buy me a drink if you're planning to win all my gambling budget," Zephyr says, obligingly bantery even if he hasn't lifted his head from the table yet.

There's a point at which he's just being a chicken, though. Zephyr breathes a sigh out against his cards, and sits up, offering Kit a sheepish if genuine smile. "...Hey. Thanks."

He doesn't specify for what. There's a lot of different kind of thanks in there, really.

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[closed-ish] July catch-all

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