♦♦ 32ND CONTRACT - ANONYMOUS TEXT/ACTION

[mortemscintilla]

Oh perfect.

A light show. Just what's needed after a month of witches and possessed goats. Sure, everything seems mellow now. No zombies or general epidemics. But distractions are just that. Distractions. No amount of Burning Man rituals and fireworks take away from the fact that everyone is still stuck here. That's not exactly something worth celebrating.

Still, it could be worse. Pai could be gone. I could be back home. This 'perpetual darkness' theme could last more than 24 hours. Then there'd be no end to the belly-aching.

Of course that's a mixed blessing. Some of you are only tolerable in the pitch dark.

Options For Run-Ins:

Cafe: You'll find him behind the display case, sliding in a fresh tray of pinwheel cookies, a sprinkling of flour on his nose. Canapes, bonfire toffee, sausage roll-ups, sticky chocolate pudding, baked apples with cinnamon ... It's like he's trying to kill the City with saccharin-induced diabetes. Maybe he is.

Hey. At least it's a tasty way to go.

Xanadu: Crunching on a toffee-apple, he drifts through the park. Watching, not the brilliant displays in the dark sky, but his periphery. He's still in the habit of thinking operationally, and is as matter-of-fact about it as he is effective. But that doesn't mean he can't stop, for a moment, to listen to the crack-snap-pop of sparklers, or watch the glittering streaks of color exploding like supernovas above.

Anywhere Else: The dark is his element, and he utilizes the opportunity to explore. He stops by the City's outskirts, looking out at the sweep of the lakes, the glittering buildings, the glittering fireworks blossoming in the sky. Festivities seem to be dwindling, and who could've anticipated that he'd feel so rueful about that. Then again, all tonight is, is a lull, before some new curse threatens to snatch everything away in one big explosion of chaos. Whatever intervals of quiet he indulges in are irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.

Still he doesn't mind this pause. It makes things better and worse at the same time -- but sometimes it's necessary too.



[ ooc: Don't be fooled. Despite the general grumpiness, Hei is actually rather enjoying the fireworks. Backtagging friendly forevermore; I'll be very slow this week<3 ]

Comments

action;

[sleepingstar]

[It's remarkably hard to bother getting out of bed when there's no sun saying Hey. Hey you. It's time to be up and about. Even though you have nowhere to go and nothing to do.]

action; no stahp Dx

[mortemscintilla]

[ Pai's blue-walled little bedroom, whose windows are seldom open and whose door seems always shut, seems to fill up every night with her breath. One by one, it's like her quiet exhalations trickle off her pillow to the floor. Then, breath by breath, they float up, piling on top of each other like invisible feathers, until they're nestling in a cloud against the ceiling, growing thicker by the hour. It's morning now, despite the darkened skies, but Hei can scarcely believe he's in a bedroom: it feels more like a fog-machine, which has been chugging all night for no purpose but to turn oxygen into somnolent mist. ]

[ Stepping quietly inside, Hei goes to the window, sweeping back the curtains. No sunlight. But a skewer-thin shaft of lamp-glow penetrates the dimness, falling on Pai's bedspread. ]

It smells like a mausoleum in here, [ Hei says, but he doesn't meet Pai's eyes. His sister's been like this for a while -- a few days? or longer? -- and he doesn't know what to do. Hei fights threats with superheated precision or towering rage. Without the support of either, he feels helpless, defeated. How can you fight an enemy you can't see? ]

[sleepingstar]

No it doesn't. [Her sleepy voice emerges from deep within her pile of blankets. Hei's always been so ridiculously dramatic. She really doesn't understand him sometimes.]

[mortemscintilla]

Tell my lungs that.

[ He glances at Pai's room, in darkness except for the window-square of lamp-light draped across her bed like a luminous coverlet. Swaddled in white bedding, with only her dark head showing, she's like a chocolate-smudge half-submerged in cream. Crossing over to her, he reaches out and tugs the blanket off her. ]

Up. You can't stay in bed all day.

[ Technically, she can. But Hei knows, with an uncomfortable, echoing feeling of recognition, that he's seen this before. The entire scene, overlapped by a grungy and dilapidated flat with a warped doorway. And him, living in the middle of it. San Pedro Sula. Post-Heaven's War. One room filled with alcohol-fumes and the fug of gathering dust. He had spent most of that year trying to forget himself. ]

[sleepingstar]

Your lungs don't have a sense of smell. [Idiot. She gives him a thoroughly unimpressed look as he tugs the blankets off of her.] And yes I can. [Air cold. Bed warm. Remaining in bed is the only rational decision.]

[mortemscintilla]

I can't smell if it's hard to breathe.

[ An exaggeration, but there's a smile at the corners of his lips. It doesn't reach his eyes, though. If anything, his forehead rivals Pai's coverlet for creases. Hei knows it's difficult to motivate yourself, especially in the wake of no purpose. He also knows how easy it is to stop, and how hard it is to keep going. The air around Pai is so heavy, it's almost easy to forgive her for lolling in bed all day. ]

[ Almost. ]

[ Reaching out, he snags her pillow from under her, so her head hits the mattress with a whump. ]

Come on. Unless you want me to toss you in the tub.

[sleepingstar]

[Her glare darkens as her head hits the mattress, and she is very tempted to electrocute him until he gives her her blanket back (and can't yell at her for sleeping because ~renumeration~).]

Why?

action;

[anatural]

[Eight cats means a lot of cat poop. Normally Korra doesn't particularly mind cleaning up after them, but it's kind of hard to do when you can't turn the lights on.]

I'm going to teach you guys to do this outside. This litterbox stuff is stupid.

action;

[mortemscintilla]

[ Newsflash. Cats are stupid. ]

[ The City has fallen into a blackout reminiscent of air-raids. Not disconcerting, for Hei, but familiar. He's in his element in the dark. After a long day at the cafe, it's a relief to get back into the street. 'Li's cover feels like swathes of bandages constricting his chest, cruelly tight, the edges digging into old scars on his skin. It isn't until he's breathing fresh air again that he can properly appreciate how restless he's been the whole day. In the nocturnal gloom, the City is a phantasmagoria. There is a brightness everywhere: dark skies alight with fireworks, sparklers flaring in dramatic blinkings of constellations, thousands of candles and glow-lamps, from store windows and houses, illuminating the pavements. ]

[ Slipping his hands into his coat pockets, his shadow stretching distorted and sharp across him, Hei glides through the streets. His route is aimless, untethered, even as his mind is pinned on Pai. How to help her. How to give her some semblance of purpose in this dreary waystation. Except she's a Contractor. Ordinary people might succumb to the comforting trap of illusion. But not her. ]

[ He doesn't notice when his footsteps switch from concrete to grainy sand. It's only when he hears Korra's voice, in the distance, does he realize he's drifted to the Beach House. ]

[anatural]

[Newsflash: Your face is stupid.

Korra's not actually that much of a cat person, except in that she is extremely fond of all creatures fuzzy and non-talkative. Still, she prefers her companions a little less aloof and a little more able to handle their own excrement.

...or, at the very least, able to handle their own excrement.

She finally finishes emptying the last of the litterboxes, and takes the trashbag outside. She sets it down with the rest of the garbage and freezes as she hears movement in the sand.]

Hei?

[It has to be him. At least, she hopes it's him. The only other visitor she ever gets is Chekov, and he would've shouted hello already.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Not as stupid as your mom. ]

[ At the sound of his name, Hei seems to materialize out of shadows, both palms held up, glowing in the pale starlight. A sign that he's unarmed, and a gesture for Korra to relax. On a tactical level, he's already sweeping the area for Naga. He doesn't fancy being ambushed by a mass of white fur and snapping fangs, if he makes the wrong move. He stops at an angle from Korra, surveying her thoughtfully, his mouth a faint quirk. She makes a nice picture, standing there framed by the Beach House, with her windswept hair and big eyes, the seashore frothing away behind her shoulder. Very postcard-esque, somehow, in a way which is both strange and endearing. ]

You should get a security system for this place.

[ That's a Hello in any other language. ]

[anatural]

[Bitch you did not just talk shit about her mom. THEM'S FIGHTING WORDS.

She rolls her eyes a little at him and dumps the trash down.] My security system is currently herding some very frightened sheep. [When the fireworks first started, the sheep had practically run into the sea. She'd told Naga to herd them into the forest where hopefully it would be a little more quiet, and make sure they didn't get attacked by predators.]

What brings you all the way out here?

[mortemscintilla]

[ Heh heh heh. He knows. ]

[ She really shouldn't be relying on just Naga to keep the place safe. There are additional layers that can insulate the Beach House from intruders. Magical wards from the Underground. Alarm systems. Electric eyes and motion detectors. Not enough to fence off the creeping tendrils of a curse. But certainly good enough to circumvent low-level threats. Maybe he'll bring the subject up -- but another time. For now, he blinks at her question, slipping his hands into his pockets and curling the fingers into his palm. His face feels curiously warm, a little like he's been drinking. But looking straight into the blinding force of Korra's ridiculous, guileless expression, he's surprised by his own frankness, ]

I wanted to see you.

[ Perhaps subconsciously, if not deliberately. ]

[water_wine_wizard]

[On the beach Laruna's built up a bit of a fire close to the water. She pokes at the flames absently, but it doesn't seem to be built for the firework celebrations going on. It's more like a quiet space she's made for herself away from everyone.

And she's talking out loud to no one]

I'm fairly certain you can hear me, because you're a nosy git. So, yeah. You were right.

But the next time I see you here if you even bring this up, I will punch you in the nose.

[mortemscintilla]

[ It's easy to dismiss Laruna as a babbling pyromaniac. But watching her from a distance, huddled by the fire and talking to herself, her body language tense and a vibration of something in the line of her spine, Hei ventures closer. He recognizes the girl; someone he'd attacked, perhaps on this very spot, during the October curse. He also recalls -- vividly -- that she'd neither smelt human, no reacted like one. None of that is surprising, least of all the fact that he feels a sense of heaviness, but no guilt. His first guess would be that she's a witch, or some kind of sorceress, here to carry out a ritual. Or, perhaps, she's just rattled by something and here to reorient her thoughts. ]

[ He doesn't know. He edges closer, shoes deliberately crunching on the sand. In 'Li's cautious little voice, he says, ]

Um... Are you okay?

[water_wine_wizard]

[She is most definitely not a pyromaniac. But she knows her brother is and he's close to fire.

She jumps when she hears "Li's" voice, the water near by flushing up closer to the shore than the tide should let it.]

What?

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei notices the water surging closer, lapping along the shoreline, even as he pretends not to. After the attack, he's familiar with a good portion of Laruna's powers. But he doesn't let on. Instead, he offers that patented big-eyed Bambi look, ]

'What' what? [ A beat, before he manages a little smile. ] You sounded like you were talking to yourself.

[water_wine_wizard]

[Unfortunately, perhaps, Laruna doesn't recognize him.]

Oh... [There's a laugh.] I didn't realize anyone was here. I was talking to my brother... sort of.

[mortemscintilla]

Your ... brother? [ A bemused pause, as he glances here and there, almost expecting to see some male version of Laruna skulking in the dark. ] Is he invisible?

[ Not sarcasm. It seems like an earnest question. ]

Cafe;

[moonlitrequiem]

[For once, if Yin was asked why she was there, she couldn't properly say. There was no definite reason, she simply decided she wanted to see Hei, so she went to the cafe where he worked.]

[After all, he went to where she worked all the time. Just in case, though, she stayed in the back. A mere observer of the pastries, as though she was uncertain of their worth and didn't know if she wanted them or not. Hei didn't have to interact with her if he didn't want to. She just wanted to do what he did....]

Cafe;

[mortemscintilla]

[ It's impossible to miss Yin's entrance. ]

[ 'Li' has just applied a fluffy layer of white icing to a gingerbread house. Not for aesthetics but because the surface is a smidge burnt. This way though, it's invisible. No one eating them will taste the difference, certainly. (Funny how that applies to so many things. Cruelty and depravity are barely recognizable under a pretty disguise.) When the doorway bell chimes, he glances up with a professional smile. Staff are hovering about; a few chatty customers dot the tables. His voice is pure 'Li' when he says, ]

Can I help you, Miss Yin?

[ Easygoing smile, paired with a whiff of Is something wrong? He can't imagine why she'd be here -- unless she was in trouble. ]

Cafe;

[moonlitrequiem]

[It made her sound like a regular customer, though she didn't consider the possibility. The people around her were mostly uninterested, and those that might have noticed the pale, lithe girl enter and heard 'Li' address her also lost interest at such a mundane greeting.]

[Yin herself turned in the direction of the fluffy treats while her specter did the real observing.]

I just wanted to look.

Cafe;

[mortemscintilla]

[ I just wanted to look. ]

[ One surprise after another. When was the last time anyone heard a Doll say I and Want in the same conjunction? A year ago, Hei would've been skeptical. Suspicious. But now, he just sets the white-topped cake away, sidling over to Yin. It's hard to tell if his smile is genuine (It always is). But his eyes radiate a gentle good humor. ]

Are you sure you just want to look? We have a sample tray, if you'd like to pick something out.

[ To demonstrate, he draws up a sheet from the display case. On it is a miniature stove with little pots of chocolate, fruit tarts, cherry rimmed cupcakes, and a troupe of pulled-sugar clowns. ]

Cafe;

[moonlitrequiem]

[Yin would have never considered the samples if Hei hadn't pointed them out. She studies the sheer for a while, silently. It wasn't even the items she wanted to look at, but Hei. Which was ridiculous, since her specter could do that for her from any distance, whenever she liked. But no, she wanted to be there.]

[Now that she was, she was looking over treats and now Yin was faced with making a decision. It was harder than it should have been. She could no longer eat, no longer get any sensation from the task, and it had been nearly pointless before.]

[In the end, she points to the smallest fruit tart.]

Cafe;

[mortemscintilla]

[ It's an inane moment, Hei knows, but it lights an unexpected spark in his eyes. Not happiness, but something close to it. (Of course, wearing 'Li's benign smile, it's hard to tell how much of it is acting, and how much is real playfulness.) Cover, he knows, isn't who you pretend to be; cover is who you become. Watching the civilians' glazed eyes slide blindly past him and Yin -- nothing to see here, just the dorky chef flirting with a pretty girl -- Hei wonders if they've never kept a secret. Wonders how they live. Never like this, certainly: never constructing their own lines of public and private, so that the whole cafe belongs to the public, open world, except from this gap between him and Yin, which is private. Theirs. ]

[ Private like that quiet, fizzling sensation of amusement, as Yin chooses a tiny fruit tart. ]

Excellent choice, [ 'Li' murmurs, whisking the tart onto a lacy paper tray and handing it to Yin. ] Would you like a hot drink to go with that?

[ His break is in ten minutes. Maybe he can sit at a table with Yin. His managers frowns upon Li gossiping with customers -- but the manager can fuck off. ]