poly_chromatic | ♦♦ 30TH CONTRACT - ANONYMOUS TEXT/ ACTION

Entry tags:

darker than black - hei

♦♦ 30TH CONTRACT - ANONYMOUS TEXT/ ACTION

Dear City, Has anyone ever wondered about the ridiculous choices available in condoms? Or what they mean? If you buy ribbed condoms, exactly who is that for? And what does it say to your partner? Those bumps are so small, you can hardly feel them with your fingertips. I doubt someone's orifices will notice the difference. What, then, is the subtext? That your junk lacks the requisites they find satisfying? 'So, I got ribbed condoms because my dick lacks flair. Or maybe flare.' That doesn't bode well. And what's with the coloured ones? Those in green -- do they make you fantasize about comic book heroes? Or does the idea of a green schlong make you think of gangrene and that they'll probably have to amputate? The yellow ones. Hepatic dysfunction comes to mind. I have no idea what to say about the blue numbers, except I doubt anyone's enjoying it. Tissue hypoxia does it for no-one. The reds just make me think of elongated clown noses. Those are creepy enough on a clown. You don't need them between anyone's legs. And black. I wish I knew what to say about black. Once you roll them on, they don't exactly look black. More like a dull grey, which reminds me of zombies. If you ride too hard, will it fall off? Then there's the brandnames. Durex has an intimidating 'dure' message that says: you'd better go for hours and like it. Trojans disturb me for several reasons. No one enjoys the 'Trojan Horse' implications. Hung like a horse might be a compliment, but fatal surprises aren't. Lifestyle makes you think of underhanded marketing strategies. All I feel for them is postmodern despair. Bravo seems like you're congratulating someone before the show's even started. In most of Asia, the popular brand is OK, which is equally anti-climactic. I guess it's just OK for them. Lastly, there's the issue of the amount of condoms. I've wondered about it for a long time. Is a 12-pack too desperate? Does it signify overachievement? Then again, the 5-pack seems a little condescending. Like you've got valid reasons to lower expectations. And just 1 condom? Don't get me started. Sure, choice and variety are liberating. But is it worth the angst?
Options For Run-Ins:

※ Underground

※ Library

※ Anywhere Else

[ ooc: No, Hei hasn't lost his mind. However the senseless post has a coded message for Pai. ((Earday Arflowerstay, odecay Green Yellow Blue. Outway of ellcay. Imway OK. at st 151. In other words: Dear Starflower, code Green Yellow Blue (re: All Clear). Out of cell. I'm OK. At street 151.)) Blue highlights not ic, but can be if you'd like to go that route for funsies! Replies will be anonymous and untraceable! also, backtagging will be mighty, since I am a slow hiatusaurus<3 ]

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[Yin was incapable of who made entries to whom and about what, but as soon as her specter caught sight of Hei she stopped in her tracks and turned in the direction he was. But no, laying low. He had never told her it was okay to lift that order.]

[Currently she was near the fountain, and stood there for a while, instead of returning home, which she had been in the middle of.]

[ After half a month in a cell, the sun seems to be seeping into Hei, its heat boosting his body's metabolism to an itchy simmer. He's ducked under the canopy of a poky, gloomy antique shop, seemingly eyeing its wares -- ornate knives, elaborate fans, ivory chessboards. thickly-fringed rugs. He seems absorbed in picking something out. But the truth is, since being released from prison, he's refreshing his mental map of familiar territories. In his absence, Hei's discovered, things have moved around -- both Underground and Topside. Certain personal landmarks have shifted. He's found the sites of known contacts abandoned. Some locations have disintegrated altogether. Those he does locate are populated by fresh faces. ]

[ The antique store -- once a reliable venue to exchange info -- is one of the latter. Hei is preparing to make discreet inquiries about the previous owner. But, squinting past the orange sunlight beaming in from the street, he catches sight of a familiar figure. Yin. Who else would it be? No one has hair quite as phosphorescently silver as Yin's, or skin quite as luminously pale. Still, he has to admit she looks good. ]

[ How she looks has nothing to do with this, Hei thinks irritably. In the next blink, he slipped out of the shop. Crossed the street, and appeared unobtrusively at Yin's elbow. ]

Heading home?

[ Because who would know her schedules better than ~~her obsessive stalker~~ Hei? ]

[Her eyes widen when Hei joins her, and now she continues her trek.]

Yes. [It's not like she goes many other places, or deviates from her schedule often.]

[ Hei falls into step beside her, as seamlessly as if they're drifting together on a mission. No, she doesn't deviate from her schedules. If anything the broken record of Yin's punctuality is almost comforting in its certainty. She's one of the few stabilizing elements in Hei's volatile life -- here or at home. (Maybe that's why, whenever she skews toward unpredictability, he feels like the axis of his world is collapsing.) ]

[ At length: ]

Has everything been all right?

[ No mention of business. It seems like such a personal question, but in truth it is business disguised as personal, because it's still impossible for Hei to separate the two. However, at a more profound level, he's interested in knowing how she's been faring. ]

[She answers with nothing but a predictable and small:] Yes.

[But only because she can't quite give words to, "It's been lonely." And didn't understand the concept in full. She knew she felt loneliness, but she was still in one piece, and still a functioning Doll for their team. That's all that mattered. She went to work and did her job, and took care of her apartment and new cat. Even though it didn't talk. That was just her life. Cold, and very quiet.]

[How it was supposed to be.]

[But while they're walking, Yin reaches out for Hei's hand. Closeness. To him. Especially after he was gone for so long. All that time and they couldn't meet face to face, or be close like this. She wants to hold his hand now.]

[ If there are any nuances in Yin's reply, they elude Hei, like a kite-string slipping from his fingers. ]

[ Still, it doesn't stop the twinge -- more than a twinge -- of premonition. Everything about Yin's lifestyle here is clean and orderly, almost sterile. The perfect existence for a perfect automaton. But Yin isn't an automaton. Her every day, caught in an interminable, inexorable routine, is like the collision of two hard objects disguised in soft coverings of Functionality and Monotony. The more brittle of the two will eventually cave in. Hei's never been trained to have a real routine, a pattern to fix him to a time and place. Even so, he knows that displacement can be as lonely as stagnation. Either way, you feel like you're losing yourself. ]

[ When her hand twitches to take his, he pauses, sharp gaze automatically scanning the periphery for threats. But. There's nothing there. It's a moment before it hits him -- Oh. ]

[ Without comment, he slides his hand around hers, squeezing lightly. (Her fingers are a cool soft weight in his, but so still -- a stillness that brings bushukan to mind.) It's a long moment before he says, ]

We should stop somewhere for a snack.

[ Because he's hungry. (And maybe because he wants to prolong this impromptu stroll with Yin.) ]

[Cold as she is, just above her hand, around her wrist is something a little cooler. The bracelet Korra gave Yin is mostly covered by the long sleeve of her jacket (and some people view her curiously, still finding it too warm out for jackets just yet).]

[All she gives to Hei's suggestion is a nod. She's not hungry - she never will be unless her life is restored - but Hei probably is. He always is. Deviating from her routine to spend time while he stuffs his face is more than okay with her.]

[ There's a pastry-shop (or 'patisserie', as it likes to style itself) around the corner -- a snug little establishment that looks like a prettified dollhouse -- pink doors and cookie-colored walls, displaying a variety of colorful trays full of gateaux. Leading Yin inside, Hei's expression lights up unconsciously in simple pleasure. Selecting the stickiest, sweetest, creamiest cakes on show, he feels his lips twitch at the corners when the flirty teenaged clerk offers Yin an icing rose. Maybe it's the sugary scent wafting in the air, or being out of prison, or Yin at his side, but he relaxes as if from a peculiar fizzing brain-chemistry. For so much of the time, he has to be careful to avoid any word or gesture that might blow his cover; it's a relief to set some semblance of inhibition aside. ]

[ He carefully cradles a thick paper scoop by its coned underside and compares the four creamy multicolored lumps within, trying to decide which he'll eat first. The icing is already beginning to sweat. Popping a chocolate blob into his mouth, he pauses when his free hand, curled around Yin's wrist, touches something cool, metallic. He tugs her sleeve up, and the bracelet glitters in the pinspot lights of the cafe. ]

[ Frowning, Hei asks, ] ...Is that a gift from someone? [ Yin wouldn't buy jewelry by choice. Anyway, he distinctly remembers giving Korra an identical piece. ]

Edited 2013-09-22 02:39 (UTC)

[Yin doesn't turn the icing rose, but once they're out of the pastry-shop, she offers it to Hei. She doesn't see the point in eating, but she couldn't see the point in turning the clerk down, either. Just like she didn't understand he was flirting.]

[There's plenty she doesn't understand. Like this. Is it just a simple outing? But it reminds her of the conversation she had with Korra a couple of days ago.]

[Hei's question gets a nod, but then Yin asks one of her own.]

Is this a date?

[ At her question, Hei's forehead twitches in a bewildered grimace which he manfully (boyfully?) attempts to convert into neutrality. There's a fleck of cream on his chin, and an odd sensation bubbling quietly in his stomach. (Congratulations. He's surprised.) His hand, halfway to depositing a vanilla glob in his mouth, stills, then slowly sets the pastry aside. It's clear from the way he stares at Yin, as if a little alcohol-sleepy, that he's not sure what's gotten into her. ]

... Who's been telling you about dates?

[ Certainly, Yin's evinced no interest in them -- or in socializing -- in the past. (Confused. Disbelieving. Again: surprised.) What the hell is happening? ]

[Yin's quiet for a moment, watching his twitching, the change, the fleck of cream. She even reaches over to wipe it off.]

Korra spoke to me of dating. And I looked them up.

[It's all you Hei. Only you. As a Doll, she's incapable of being interested in them, and this remains only a mild curiosity. She wouldn't suffer any despair at being told no.]

[ Hei sees her pale hand lifting, yet he recoils slightly all the same, startled at this unexpected physical intimacy. (Outside of an undercover op? Outside of working hours?) He's done things that are absolutely filthy and unforgivable. He's lived a life based on snake-oil and skullduggery -- the basic components of a Contractor's artillery. He can almost hear Huang saying in his earpiece, whenever 'Li' softened a mark for information with smiles or words or physicality: Holy fuck, you're a shameless liar. Don't you ever blush? ]

[ Except Huang would be having conniptions right now. Because when Hei ducks his head, he is blushing. A genuine blush, not the blood-rushes he conjures up on 'Li's face, by imagining something upsetting or absurd. For a moment his brain stalls, trying to fit Yin's words into a logical pattern. When he speaks, at length, he looks a little self-conscious, like even BK201 has to pick his questions carefully. ]

Any particular reason why?

[ Curiosity? Research for her mental repertoire of What Other People Do? Or has she developed an interest -- (a crush?) -- on someone? (The last option seems impossible. Then again, Hei and Yin are two people who've been turning impossibilities into truths, simply by existing.) ]

[When Hei pulls away, Yin stops and lowers her hand. She misses the blush, and wouldn't understand it's importance, anyway. In fact, it's not important at all.]

To see what dating is. Why it's done.

[And now that she knows, she is trying to understand the line of what is and isn't. Apparently this is not? As for crushing, if Hei would only ask so she could shock him again.]

[ Hei's instincts, so keenly honed for combat, can be almost laughably useless in matters of genuine emotion. Right now, it shows in every line of his face, every nuance in his body-language. If Yin were holding his arm, she'd be surprised by how awkward and tentative he'd feel; how the young man's body, so notorious for its pliability during acrobatic feats in-field, feels gawky and stiff in the arms of a friend. The heavy parcel of pastries, still clutched in Hei's hands, thuds against the nearest cafe table, hard as a block of wood. ]

[ He wishes he could tell her, how little value dating holds, in their world. It's the same superficiality, the same games of push-me, pull-you, that Hei employs when manipulating marks. Wielding sweetness with absolutely no hesitation to use it -- the metallic tinkle of daggers can sound so much like the clink of champagne flutes, courtship can blur so seamlessly into conjuration. What's the difference really? They're all about lies wrapped in lies, all pretty words and smiles to achieve an end. ]

[ Eventually, quietly, ]

It's just a game, Yin. Like most other games people play. For an idea of companionship, or bored thrills. Or to meet a standard set by society. [ A beat, before he shrugs, the blush fading into a flat weariness. ] Usually it's a waste of time.

[ Then again, Hei's views are pretty jaundiced by the life he's led. ]

[Yin follows the sound of the thud, then looks back at Hei. Dating sounds pointless. So clearly this is not a date; Hei wouldn't waste his time like that. However, she's paused on something. Her eyes drift to the table.]

[In a low voice she speaks.]

Korra said she was dating. She is being played with?

[Yep. Yin is asking about how another is being treated. Yin is showing curiosity beyond just wanting to spy on Korra. It's gone far beyond that.]

[ Hei represses an eyeroll when Yin says, Korra said she was dating. Clearly he and Korra aren't on the same page if she regards their messy entanglement as dating. All the same, she's not from a world of ambiguity, like Hei and Yin. She needs the comforting solidity of labels. Otherwise everything feels as if it hangs in limbo -- no exits, no boundaries, nothing to fall back on. It's true, he has some degree of feelings for Korra. Specific, situational feelings. Bound up tight the way the City's bound all of them up. She's able to give him a little of what he needs. But at the same time, that isn't everything. They're in an arrangement where you like the person, but you keep your windows open. That's where he is with Korra. ]

[ Coasting. ]

[ He wants to explain that -- to Yin? To Korra? He isn't sure. As it is, he's blindsided by Yin's behavior. Why is she so interested in Korra's welfare? Why does this concern her, even peripherally? Something in the foggy recesses of Hei's mind whispers: Because she's not an ordinary Doll. She never was. He tries to shake it off. His pulse, crackling with numb disbelief, seems to stir the air around him. But when he speaks, his voice is firm. ]

I'm sure Korra can take care of herself.

[ Even as he says this, he tastes a lie in his mouth. Why? Because it feels strangely inappropriate, mentioning Korra to Yin? Because he's a toxic element that'd eat through Korra's innocence, before she even realized it? He isn't sure. Instead he sucks his lower-lip beneath his teeth, catches up a slim coffee spoon on the table, and ties it into a neat bow, without seeming effort. ]

[Perhaps it wasn't Korra and Hei weren't on the same page, but that dating was the only terminology Yin could comprehend their situation.]

[Whatever it is, at Hei's words, Yin looks down at the table. She can take care of herself.]

She's not playing.

[Maybe it's when Hei mangles the spoon, or the fact Korra's situation matters enough to warrant commentary, but Yin looks back up at Hei, her expression barely picking up a tinge of confusion. The spoon, especially, had nothing to do with this. Something is off. This would normally be where she starts spying on him again, but his order not to still stands. Now Yin is at war with herself once more.]

[ Hei has an eye kept on Yin from his peripheral -- half because he's always observant, and half because ... That's how partners are meant to function. Never far. Her expression, placid and Doll-like, still evokes an aura of confusion, her little hands limp, the angles of her body wreathed in melancholy silence, the pretty eyes looking so lost. Strange, how despite her specter's uncanny skills at watching people, she's perpetually a step behind. But that's Hei's fault, isn't it? He ordered her not to spy on him anymore. Now, it makes him pause. How have things stretched so thin between him and Yin that he can't trust her with details of what's going on in his life? Or with who? ]

[ It makes him sad. Well. As sad as Hei can get anyway. ]

[ When Yin says, She's not playing, Hei frowns. He still doesn't get why she's so invested in Korra's welfare. Maybe it's a sign of growth? Of the stagnant parts of her bubbling awake, despite her programming? He isn't sure. But he senses a rebuke will destroy it. He wants to tell her what's going on between him and Korra. But he also wants -- isn't this strange? -- to be able to split himself in four, so that one Hei can devote himself utterly to Pai, the second Hei can go on mourning alone for Amber, while the third can do whatever he wants with Korra, and the last... the last can be with Yin. Who, disorienting yet inevitable to realize, is one of the brightest fixtures in his mind. A little piece of him will always belong with her. ]

[ So odd. Odd, like getting clobbered with a church organ. ]

[ Aloud, he says, ]

It'll be a learning experience for Korra, then. [ Gathering the box of pastries, he straightens. Extends a hand, for Yin to take, but also to signal an end to the conversation. His head is buzzing with too much extraneous and internal info to digest. ]

[The hand serves as much as a rebuke would have, effectively silencing Yin as she takes Hei's hand. It isn't just the conversation, but their time together is up. Something about their conversation.... He never even finished the pastries he bought.]

[Again, she offers him the rose from earlier, her free hand listlessly lifting the confection.]

[ He stares for a moment at the rose, like a peace-offering in Yin's hand. Such a tiny, pretty hand. The sunshine and pinpoint lighting make her bracelet glitter. Dimly, it occurs to him -- Korra gave her the bracelet. An exchange that would, in other circumstances, seem frivolously girlish. But here, Hei can't help but feel unnerved, and unable to understand why he's unnerved. He only knows that the emotions Korra and Yin's suspected friendship are churning in him are not going to go still. Shaking it off, he accept the rose. Breaks it in half, chewing his own in small, precise bites. ]

[ The other half, he slips almost delicately between Yin's lips. City Dead don't eat, but the candy is barely a mouthful. He tries not to think about the impulsive presumption of the gesture -- or the intimacy of it. Just clasps Yin's hand tighter in his, and begins to guide her home. ]

[Much like their conversation, and her conversation with Korra, Yin allows the sugary petals to dissolve in her mouth, silently, as she follows Hei's lead home.]

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♦♦ 30TH CONTRACT - ANONYMOUS TEXT/ ACTION

Action;

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Re: Action;

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Action; sorry it's so short ;;