IC/Overflow Post

[noreasonneeded]

Random messages and thread continuations welcome here!

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[aspolyhymnia]

You do actually. You cut an imposing figure.

[The fancy clothes suit him and they make a point. She understands the message he is putting out by dressing the way he does.]

It is. I hate getting sick, there is nothing that grounds you the same way as feeling terrible.

I have noticed you seemingly endless supply of coffee.

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Plus, black hides stains. It's just practical. I'd imagine you could make even a paper bag work for you.

[He's yet to see her not looking lovely.]

I usually power through but it's hardest when your stomach's turning. Thankfully, I don't get sick much.

I like to think it's because of the coffee.

[He knows it's not, but it is akin to liquid mana for him.]

[aspolyhymnia]

I've never tried a paper bag, but now I want to.

[She would probably get along very well with Jesper when it comes to fashion and flirting.]

Of course you power through. I'm pretty confident you'd find a way to keep working while bleeding out.

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And bedazzle it?

[She would definitely get along with Jesper and Nina.]

Might as well keep busy while clotting. Otherwise, it's just time wasted.

[He gives a small shrug then, taking another long drink from the wine.]

I've never really done well with idleness.

[aspolyhymnia]

Of course. I need sparkle.

[She laughs and looks over at him.]

Is this torture right now? Because all you can do is be idle.

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[Hearing her laugh earns a little smile from him along with a shake of his head. An errant lock of hair falls in his face from it and he pushes it back into place.]

I won't call it torture, the company is nice. I'll admit it feels a little strange, though. I'm not entirely sure what to do with myself.

[aspolyhymnia]

I am torturous, it's okay to admit.

[She teases with a wide grin.]

Now that we've eaten you probably should shower. You're really dusty.

[He's got some carbon that's been smudged across his cheek and brow.]

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I'm just going to stop talking so I don't get myself in trouble.

[It comes easy to tease her back, and he follows the quip with a glance down at himself and nod.]

Yeah. Washing up sounds good right about now. Sorry if I got your sofa dirty. I can clean it.

[He takes his boots off and carries them in one hand, rising to stand in socks.]

Should I leave these here or in another room? And where's the bathroom?

[aspolyhymnia]

When have you ever avoided trouble?

[She shrugs a shoulder.]

It's a pretty cheap sofa, I'm not attached.

You can leave your boots here, it's fine. Bathroom is all the way at the end of the hall. I'll grab you a clean towel.

[She stands to move to her bedroom where she keeps all her linens in her closet. She picks a deep blue towel, in case any of the dust is missed by the shower.]

It feels like a strangely intimate thing to have you shower here. Though that seems mental to admit.

[noreasonneeded]

Well-calculated risks only, I'm sticking by that.

[He gives an agreeable nod at her words, setting his shoes down beside the sofa and following her down the hall. He stays in the doorway to her bedroom waiting until she hands him the towel. He gives her a nod of thanks, about to head into the bathroom when she mentions this being intimate. He gives her a crooked smile at that.]

I promise I won't rummage through your medicine cabinets. Though I will need to borrow some soap. Dunno if you have guest soap or not.

[aspolyhymnia]

[She leans in the doorway of her bedroom a little smirk on her lips.]

You can rummage all you like. And no, I don't have guest soap, so just whatever you need from my stuff is fine.

Can I see your hands? Since you need to take your gloves off anyway. It's okay to say no.

[It feels like it would be more exposing than seeing him naked somehow.]

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[She couldn’t know what she was asking. He hasn’t explained why he wears his gloves, how stripping them off in front of someone is the single hardest thing he could ever be asked to do. He just looks uncomfortable at the request, hands instinctively drawing close to him. It’s hard not to think about the last time he took them off, for the sake of a job of course, and the disaster that had ensued. Perhaps someday, he can for her. Right now though it’s asking too much. Already he feels a little raw in having brought up Jordie, something he almost has never done in well over a decade. His gaze shifts downwards.]

I’d rather just wash up right now.

[aspolyhymnia]

Alright. I'll be in the living room when you're done.

[She knew there was a very good chance he would say no. And she feels like the best response is to not make a big deal out of it.]

And I'm sorry. That was a very bold request.

[She doesn't want him to think that she doesn't feel bad, but also to not harp on matters. She can start piecing together the pieces of his story as he gives her whatever little bits he's willing. But as she has made her apology she will leave him alone so he can have privacy.]

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[He gives a small shake of his head at her apology. She’s handling it fine, he doesn’t want to make a big deal about it, either.] It’s fine. I’ll be right out.

[Heading into the bathroom, he neatly folds his clothes and showers, washing off the day’s grime. Stella isn’t wrong, the water pressure is wonderful and he keeps the temperature steaming hot. While he doesn’t linger, he does enjoy how good it feels. Stepping out and toweling dry, he faces the conundrum he already knew would happen. Putting dirty clothes back on. He can’t help it with his pants and socks. His suit shirt though bears the worst of the blast with tearing and soot stains. He knows she said she doesn’t mind him dirtying her sofa, but he’d rather avoid it where he can.

The alternative is wearing just his undershirt. It’s a plain gray one, short sleeved, which would show the skin of his arms from his gloves to where the sleeve starts. Which feels a bit silly after his reticence with his gloves, even though it’s not the same in his mind. Any bare skin feels exposed and vulnerable, but his hands are especially.

He’s getting cold and irritated with himself for overthinking it. He dresses in his pants, socks, gloves, and undershirt. On his right arm are visible his two tattoos, the Dregs one on his forearm and the bottom part of the black R peeks out beneath his sleeve on his bicep. Running a hand through his damp hair, he picks up his clothes and shuffles back to the living room.]

Do you have a bag I can put my shirt in until I can wash it?

[aspolyhymnia]

[Meanwhile Stella is finishing off another glass of wine while she waits. The sound of water is a quiet white noise in the background. Once the water stops she waits to hear him leave the bathroom and when he does looks towards the bathroom.]

Yeah, I can grab a bag for you.

[She has some duffle-like bags that she uses for shopping and she gets up to grab one and hand it to him. There is something a bit silly about his gloves and short sleeve shirt combo.]

Gang tattoos?

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[He gives a nod and accepts the bag, putting his shirt into it and setting it aside. In return he starts to clear the coffee table of their dinner, leaving the wine and glasses since she seems to still be drinking.] Hm?

[Realizing she's looking at his arm, he glances down and gives a nod.] Yeah. It's the Dregs symbol. [He turns his forearm so she can see the cup with the crow leaning down to drink the last sip. The ubiquitous NMNF is also present, standing for their motto of 'no mourners, no funerals.']

Most in the gang have it. Lets other people know you're not just messing with one person.

[He didn't make Inej get it though, not after what happened at the Menagerie. He doesn't force any of the indentures who join him to get it, though some choose to of their own volition, or they add a touch to make it their own.]

Do you have any tattoos?

[aspolyhymnia]

You've gone all in with Crows.

[and she gets it to some extent. They are very clever birds, ones she likes quite a lot.]

Just one.

[She doesn't even think before she's tugging off her shirt to show him her back. She has one rather large poppy tattoo on her spine. It's a fairly recent addition, only a few years old. It had taken her a long time to decide what she wanted.

She glances over her shoulder at him.]

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Technically, I didn't start the Crow theme. The tattoo design was already in place when I joined the Dregs.

[Kaz simply embraced it, and from there called his little band within the Dregs his Crows.

For all his reservations around touch, Kaz isn't shy about nudity. He really couldn't afford to be, given he spent many years living with other boys his age in the gang. He's not put off by her removing her shirt, though he doesn't ogle, either. He keeps his gaze respectfully on the tattoo she's showing him.]

It's a nice design. Why a poppy?

[aspolyhymnia]

And you got the cane to match, not the other way around?

[Once he's gotten a good look she tugs her shirt back on. Nudity doesn't need to be sexual. She used to spend a lot of time at public baths.]

Poppies grow where I'm from. And they're a symbol of death and remembrance. With my willingness to love comes a lot of loss, but I carry every one of them with me. They live on through me, hopefully forever.

[noreasonneeded]

The cane came after I joined the Dregs, yeah. Fell off the roof of a bank on a job. I had a makeshift walking stick for a while after that, until I could afford a cane.

[Kaz gives a little shrug at that as if to say it doesn’t matter. He’s stronger for what happened to him, and the cane’s an extension of him now. He wouldn’t have himself any other way.]

That sounds like quite a lot to carry.

[aspolyhymnia]

The cane is really nice looking, very detailed.

[He seems to do just find with a cane, he's surely not any slower for it.]

It is. Loss stays with you. But I find comfort in honoring them and remembering them.

Those your only tattoos? Or are you hiding a whole big chest tattoo?

[noreasonneeded]

It is. Fabrikator-reinforced, too. It can do a lot more damage than most canes.

[It might be ridiculous to some, but it’s his weapon of choice. He’s capable of using guns and knives, but there’s nothing that feels as solid as his cane does.

He’s not like her, with the memories. He tries to suppress as many of his own as he can, minus when funneled into revenge. He gets her perspective on it though, and he knows it takes more strength to embrace pain like that than it does to avoid it.]

Just don’t lose yourself along the way, right?

[He finishes packing up the trash into the takeout bag, turning to deposit it into her garbage can. He gives a snort on the way at her comment.]

A whole chest tattoo would take far too long for me to sit and take. Even now I have to keep myself busy. [He holds up the bag to prove the point.]

[aspolyhymnia]

So that you can hit with it when you need to, right?

[It's brilliant in it's simplicity. It's something he always has and uses like an extension of himself.]

I do my best to not lose myself. There have been a few losses that left me in a stupor for months at a time. But I have to keep going

I've noticed you don't sit still. I could help you sleep tonight if you want. My bed is much bigger than yours, we could make a little wall of pillows. It won't be as strong as with contact, but I should still be able to calm you.

[noreasonneeded]

Exactly that. It's a multi-purposeful mobility aid.

[Like much about himself that others might see as a weakness, he found a way to use it to his advantage. She's right that the crow's head at the top of it is one of the rare instances of his sentimentality showing through. It only felt right.]

No sense in stopping. Might as well be dead when that happens.

[He finds her impressively strong for it. Grief can indeed feel like a weight dragging a person under. Kaz doesn't presume to have a perfect balance in handling it yet, but he does know that instinct keeps him from letting himself sink, knowing there's no coming back once the bottom is reached.]

That's a kind offer. I'm not sleepy yet, maybe we can see how it goes later? Unless you're ready to sleep now.

[He's tired, but not yet in a state for slumber. He'll respect if she's wanting to sleep now though, he doesn't mind reading on the sofa instead.]

[aspolyhymnia]

It suits you. To look like you won't be able to stand your own in a fight to catch them off guard.

[Stella is impressed by his tenacity.

She has been ravaged by grief a few times, but she keeps going.]

I'm not tired yet. I tend to only sleep for a few hours. I'm perfect to message when you have insomnia, I am usually awake myself.