poly_chromatic | ♦ ♦ 18th Contract

[ The device snaps on to the foreshortened view of a spartan livingroom. In the corner, a wire-mesh cage with a brightly-patterned iguana is visible. The occupant stirs sluggishly across the interior, tail flicking. Closer to the screen, on the coffee-table, rests a crystal center-piece. ]

[ Someone's frigid little heart is on display for the whole City. ]

[ In the periphery, footsteps rustle. A voice, too flat and monotonous to be 'Li's, mutters, ]

So now the City's getting metaphorical on me.

Pretentious. As always.

[ Belatedly, the speaker notices the blinking device. With an irritable tch, a hand reaches to click off the feed. It won't be near midnight until the device switches itself back on. At a different spot, but with the ice-heart still in view. By that time, it'll have metamorphosed into a new shape. The blue glow it radiates is actually a spark of concentrated heat. Melting the ice from inside-out. ]

[ Hopefully it won't set the coffee-table on fire. ]

Options for Run Ins:

♠ At Home (Li/Hei): With impatient jerky movements -- almost pulling off the cabinet doors as he yanks them -- he'll be assembling lunch in the kitchen, though (for once) he isn't hungry. But he's no mood to look at that over-dramatic frozen heart. Teammates or friends are welcome to drop by and bug him!

☀ Shopping (Li): He leaves the stupid heart -- and inevitable questions via the Network device -- at home. At a supermarket, pushing a grocery cart, he feels better. After that tiresome 'revolt', he's glad to wander around and take care of mindless, not unpleasant tasks. You'll find him contemplating shelves of little fruity yogurt pots. Almond midnight mocha, juicy peach tart or blue lychee dream? Hmmmm.

∅ Recon (Reaper): Under the black sky of late night, he'll be near the City limits and the Underground, surveying the revolt's residual destruction. By now, in the groove of his routine, he's almost forgotten about the curse. The stars above are clear, and there's a pale slice of moon. He drifts from checkpoint to checkpoint, feeding an unexpected new habit of wandering around, not exactly patrolling, but getting lost. Staying lost.

[ OOC: Too cold to pierce, too hot to handle? Thawing and mellowing? Eating itself alive? Interpretations are up to you xD (Massively backtag friendly!!!!) ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ He may be irrational, but he's a creature of precise detail. That includes understanding the value of space between places and people. These are things he's always needed to know to survive, in the late night and early morning when missions were easiest executed. ]

[ Crossing his arms over his chest, he leans against the window. Watches Mao's tail twitch the way he'd watch nervous tics on a human being's face, ]

No noise. No messes. And he doesn't follow me around.

[ re: Unlike certain people. ]

Not very helpful.

[It was for your own good, dude.]

If I needed help, I'd ask.

[ There's an edge there. ]

[ And no, they aren't talking about the lizard anymore. ]

Before it's too late?

[Because as far as Mao can tell, you're in over your head. Hei's irrationality, entertaining as it is in a world Mao understands, is an unacceptable liability in in a world without rules. (True, the City at its craziest is more peaceful than life with the Syndicate. But peace itself is stressful to the body accustomed to conflict.)

Now, more than ever, Mao needs Hei to behave like a Contractor (not that he would put it that way. Not that he thinks of it that way.)]

[ Hei's mouth tightens into something that almost resembles a smile, something bitter and brief but something that feels good for the split-second it lasts. Like he 's weighing a secret -- ugly but invaluable. He is. Mao doesn't know the dismal outcome of his trip to Hell's Gate. He doesn't know that Hei made a choice to plunge Tokyo deeper into chaos, all because he didn't want to pick a side, or create sides when there should be none. ]

[ He doesn't realize the duality of Hei's own identity. One he's slowly trying to balance every day. ]

[ Hei's look remains a study of cold disengagement, ]

You're not my damn babysitter. You can't control every irrationality that's out there. [ A tilt of the head, and an expression that on anyone else would look amused. ] Not if you're human, anyway.

[ Connect the dots. Read into what's being implied. ]

[Mao reads into the implication all right...and then promptly forgets about it because it makes no damn sense. There's just no way.]

We're Contractors.

[The "we" is both subconscious and deliberate.]

[ Hei cuts his eyes away. The fingertips of his right hand drum against his left arm; Fibonacci in reverse. It's not jitters, but a measured countdown. A Contractor's adherence to ergoism is a little pedantic at times. Especially when Hei has known them to be as illogical -- more illogical -- than any human. While he admits there are times he feels more Contractor than human, there are equal moments when the opposite is true. ]

[ The distinctions have stopped mattering. He no longer thinks in terms of Us and Them.]

There is no 'we', Mao.

[Mao does not like where this conversation is going.]

Are you really that upset about it?

[Dodge and deny, dodge and deny.]

That's not what this is about. [ He's past the stage of dodging and denying. Honesty; that's what the situation requires. Hei is simply so unused to it that the effort is similar to pulling out teeth. ]

[ Not that it will stop him. ] I'm not a Contractor. [ The words feel like a rebuke, and also an excuse, and also a dismissal. ]

What?!

[He couldn't believe it.

And yet it explained so much. Why he was so emotional. Why he didn't have to pay a price.

It was inconceivable, but Mao was a Contractor, and feelings did not interfere with his reason (so he told himself). The evidence was right before his eyes.]

Explain.

[ Hei feels caught in the moment when the dirty bandage is torn from the seeping wound. He rubs his temples with his fingers as if his pain's center is there, goes blank. There's a disturbing lack of rancor in his tone. As if he's on ether. ]

My abilities [ aren't mine ] are the result of what happened five years ago. When Heaven's Gate vanished. That's all you need to know. [ He exhales, fingers drumming. ] I'm human. I always have been.

[All he needs to know his fine furry ass. There's much more to that story, and Mao wants to know it. But he knows his teammate. The lack of rancor is eerie, but Hei has always balanced on a razor edge -- at one moment rational, the next in a rage. The Contractor knows better than to push him at this moment.

Best to gather information first.]

How long have you known?

[ Hei's lips purse and unpurse; his eyes are narrowed and a frown pulls at the corners of his mouth. But it's a distracted expression, not an angry one. How long have you known? Part of him would argue that he's always known, like it's a barcode that is equal halves Anomaly and Freak tattooed into his bones. ]

Ever since I returned to the City.

[That also explains things.]

Why tell me now?

[ Oh, there's the expected scowl, ]

So you stop interfering, for one.

[ He's human. That comes with a different spectrum of errors and misjudgements. He's only just feeling his way around; he doesn't need an audience. ]

Gathering information isn't interfering.

It is when both the information and the endeavor are pointless.

Hn.

[He's not convinced.]

♦ ♦ 18th Contract

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