ioduanlogs | [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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

[closed-ish] July catch-all

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