[OPEN] maybe this time I can be strong

[bestofthevein]

Characters: Kit + you!
Date: the beginning of March
Location: one of the previously 'drowned' office buildings; the Dreaming Bridge
Situation: A dwarf’s ill-fated return to Konryu after a several month-long absence; he’s been changed by the experience.
Warnings/Rating: Just general bad headspace warnings here; Kit’s seen some shit and is a little messed up by it.



I. An abandoned office building in Malimo

Kit is a man intimately acquainted with death, having died twice previously, and knowing what he knows of death and dying is enough to make it clear to him that, wherever he was before, he was most definitely alive. Lying on the linoleum floor of an abandoned office building with the stomach-churning stink of sea water and dead fish still pungent in his nose, he’s left wondering whether dying a third time would have been a mercy.

There’s a deep, throbbing ache pulsing in his temples, and Kit bares his teeth in a grin and reaches up a hand to cover his eyes. It takes his limbs a moment to respond to his brain’s commands, but slowly, lumbering like a bronto, he pulls himself up to his feet with the aid of an office chair, then squints around himself, disoriented.

He’s lost and alone like this when you find him--whoever you are.

(OOC: Please only one thread response to this prompt! It doesn’t make sense for him to be discovered twice.)


II. The Dreaming Bridge

The Bridge is--different.

“You guys redecorated, huh?” This observation he makes to the attendant at the front desk, who gives him a tolerant sort of smile that suggests taking the time to explain literally everything that has happened since Kit was last in Aifaran is a step or ten above her paygrade. She gives him the key to his room and is kind enough to show him to it, and he thanks her, all lopsided smiles and good humour until her back his turned. Then the blank emptiness returns to his dark eyes, and the thoughts that follow in their wake are grim and upsetting, and feel as though they should belong to someone else.

His legs lead him out of Breakwater Wing back to the common room, which seems somehow smaller and emptier than it was when he last set foot in the city--seven months ago? Had he only been gone that long?

At least no one moved the coffee machine; he trudges over to it and sets about making himself a cup in dead-eyed silence.


III. Wildcard!

(OOC: Got an idea? Lay it on me!)

Comments

II / maybe wildcard if you want to set it later

[zohvin]

Perhaps Zohvin much preferred the privacy of having been roommate-free for a few months, but he did still try to make a point of lingering in the public areas. If the other dreamfolk got used to his presence, and saw him as a friendly face, then that was all the better.

With that in mind, Zohvin steps into the common room with a colorful bowl of fruit salad in one hand and a cup of milky tea in the other, a fairly sizable booklet held under one arm. He gives Kit a rather curious look before moving over to one of the couches, setting his food on the table nearby.

"If you don't mind me saying, you look like warmed-over bantha dung."

we can set it a bit later!

[bestofthevein]

"If you don't mind me saying, you look like warmed-over bantha dung."

"Is that right," Kit snorts and starts to look up from his coffee, "well if you don't mind me saying so, you look--"

He stops short of finishing that sentence to stare at Zohvin. A beat, and then he supplies, "blue."

[zohvin]

Now that wasn't something he heard often. Zohvin's lips twitch into a smirk as he settles into his seat, the booklet left resting on his lap.

"Very observant of you," he replies in a dry tone. "Have you never seen an alien before? This city is full of them." Well, that was the term used to refer to non-humans where Zohvin was from, at any rate. Using that distinction in Aifaran was a bit more complicated.

[bestofthevein]

Oh, so it was going to be like that, huh? Kit snorts and looks back at his coffee, though not without a couple more surreptitious glances at the strange blue fellow now seated adjacent to him. (How does he manage to look so self-assured while sitting there with a bowl of fruit salad in hand? No seriously, how is that possible?)

"Uh, no, I guess not," he replies a little sarcastically and rubs a thumb against his eyebrow. "I mean, I've seen a lot of weird shit since coming here but," and here he gestures at Zohvin, "you take the nug for being the bluest yet." Congratulations.

[zohvin]

"Nug?" he murmured to himself, under his breath. That was the one word the dream hadn't translated well. Zohvin popped a piece of fruit into his mouth, briefly considering that before saying, "Then you must not get out much."

His tone was more gently needling than anything else. He hadn't intended on their conversation going in this odd direction, after all. "You're also the shortest human I've ever seen, but I won't hold it against you."

[bestofthevein]

"...You're also the shortest human I've ever seen, but I won't hold it against you."

At that observation, Kit finally cracks a grin, and it becomes clear that he's got a face well accustomed to smiling, even though at present he's haunted by--something. Still, being mistaken for a human seems to put a spark of humour back into him, and he's chuckling when he brings up his coffee for a sip.

A swallow, and he lifts a finger from the mug when he corrects, "Not a human. Dwarf. And I won't hold that mistake against you either."

He considers Zohvin a moment longer, and seems to decide against being bristly. "I'm Kit," he says, introducing himself.

[zohvin]

Zohvin's eyes widened a bit at the correction. "A - dwarf? I apologize, then. I shouldn't have made that assumption." Considering that most of the other Dreamfolk were either human or acted like they were, he had thought it was a safe enough assumption to make. That did explain Kit's height, or lack of it.

"Call me Zohvin," he said as he leaned over to offer him a handshake, his fingers thankfully lacking in fruit juice. "My full name is a bit of a mouthful. You're new, aren't you? I haven't met everyone yet, but I'm sure I haven't seen you around before."

[bestofthevein]

He's tall for a dwarf.

Kit reaches out to take Zohvin's hand when he offers it out, returning the handshake--but a peculiar look takes over his features at those words. He makes a sound somewhere between a sigh and a smirk and glances down at his coffee. (Ancestors, that stuff tastes like shit.)

"Um, no. Not exactly." A pause. "I was--gone, for a while. But I know my way around the city, you know, if you ever need a guide, or something."

This last part is a pretty clumsy deflection; he's out of practice.

[zohvin]

Zohvin settles back in his seat, giving Kit an expression that's a bit quizzical. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm well beyond needing a guide. I've been here five months now."

Saying it out loud almost made the number seem absurd. It didn't feel like nearly half a year had passed, and yet here he was, finally forced to admit to himself that rescue wouldn't be coming. There'd be no Vacarius, no Empire, no SIS landing here to demand an explanation and take him back to more familiar space. Zohvin still didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad one.

He's almost frowning as he picks up his fork again, idly stabbing at the fruit in his bowl. "If you were gone, then where did you go? Were you beyond that barrier, or... did you go home?"

[bestofthevein]

"If you were gone, then where did you go? Were you beyond that barrier, or... did you go home?"

"I was..." His words taper off into a hanging kind of silence, his gaze gone distant somewhere past Zohvin's shoulder. The silence stretches beyond what is comfortable, but it's more the look on Kit's face that means it becomes ominous rather than awkward. It's the look of someone who has lost something--perhaps everything--and is only recovering the pieces of himself in handfuls of broken fragments. His brows draw together uncertainly.

"...somewhere else." He finishes some time later, shifting his gaze back to Zohvin. Then he smiles, though the expression is more a grimace twisting up the corners of his lips. "I've got no home to go back to. In my world, I'm dead and gone." He hopes that someone tried to return him to the Stone.

[zohvin]

That isn't something Zohvin has seen often, but he has seen it, in Jedi that had witnessed first-hand what the worst Sith kept hiding in their lairs, and in the faces of refugees fleeing the destruction of their homes. It was impossible to live in a galaxy at war and not see the results of the death and suffering caused in its wake.

"I wasn't aware that this place brought people back from the dead." So much for the opportunity to become one with the Force. Zohvin knew he ought to say something comforting, even if just for politeness' sake, but what could you tell someone that's lived through that?

"Some people would consider that a good thing, perhaps even including being freed from their homes." Zohvin's tone was carefully neutral, though, not wanting to give away his own thoughts on the matter. "You... should probably take some time to process what happened. This city isn't such a bad place to be, you know. I've seen worse."

[bestofthevein]

Any overt words of comfort or sympathy would likely not be received well anyway; Kit has never been great at accepting such things. He does listen to the rest of what Zohvin says, however, and eventually raises his eyebrows.

"This city isn't such a bad place to be, you know. I've seen worse."

"Yeah?" he prompts. He's not disagreeing--Aifaran is a veritable paradise compared to where he's from--but there's some curiosity in his eyes now. "Want to talk about that?"

[zohvin]

Mildly relieved that he hadn't managed to make it any worse, Zohvin answers with a, "Why not?" He cups his tea in both hands, settling in to tell a story or two. Perhaps a distraction would work a bit better than platitudes, and he doesn't mind spending the time to do it.

"There are cities that cover entire planets, in fact. But if you want to hear about one that's profoundly worse, let me tell you about Nar Shaddaa, the smuggler's moon controlled by the Hutt cartels..."