(OPEN.) a little cold air & ice

[headhunt]

Who: Karlach & others.
Where: Panorama & diffusion zones.
When: February
What: catch-all with open prompts & closed starters.

Warnings: violence, language, that kind of thing.


( art by shadowyahaha )

» open prompts below
» available on cr meme & bursts for plotting or closed starter requests

Comments

OPEN → fumbling in the rain (brewed awakening; late night)

[headhunt]

( in the past, karlach hasn't been that picky about employment opportunities. they were practically everywhere for someone with her skillset. with that being large, intimidating, and strong. with the amount of people who pass through panorama, it's no surprise that petty crime reigns supreme. it reminds karlach a lot of home, actually.

and just like home, plenty of businesses could use a little extra muscle to make sure nothing goes amiss or to just stop problems at the door. karlach has worked as security or a 'bouncer' as people call it for plenty of places across the pavilion.

then shadowheart showed up. who needed a job. karlach had been all too happy to introduce her to the owner of brewed awakening, one of the more pleasant places she'd worked at. shadowheart nailed a position as a bartender without any help. and karlach. . .

karlach suddenly had a lot more time to work at this particular bar. almost exclusively even.

not that shadowheart needed anyone to keep an eye on her, but because karlach felt a little more whole to have one of her close companions around. most of karlach's shift is spent guarding the door, either inside or out, but shadowheart's presence was more than enough. knowing she was just a shout away.

unfortunately, it also made the days where she isn't there—like today—drag on forever. )

Ughhh.

( karlach groans, wordlessly complaining to herself as she moves to lean against the wall of the alleyway. it's a narrow space between the bar and the noodle restaurant beside it. there's just enough coverage there from the upper buildings to hide out from the freezing rain that's been falling all night.

with a deft hand, she fishes out a thin cigarette from her jacket pocket.

only to fumble and drop it. by her boots. in a deep rain puddle. getting it soaking wet. )

No! My last!

( why! )

[faithfall]

[ Adrian doesn't usually work such late shifts these days, but after everything that's happened with Lucina, he's happy to have anything that will keep his mind occupied. It's useful for him to be at work. He needs the money, and there are people he can help.

When he looks at his hands, he doesn't always see Lucina's blood on them.

He's walking home the usual way, cutting through one of the side streets on his way back to the motel in a puffy white coat, a slightly bent umbrella resting against his shoulder to protect him from the rain. The hood of his jacket is up as well, of course, as if both things are absolutely necessary. He looks like nothing so much as a very miserable marshmallow with a face.

He only notices the large tiefling in the shadows because he's finally gotten it into his head that he ought to pay attention to his surroundings. When he sees her drop the cigarette, he rushes forward right away. (He knows that he should be more cautious about strangers, but sometimes his need to be useful overrides any scrap of good sense he's managed to find.) ]

Oh, wait, I've got it. [ He has to close his umbrella to get into the narrow alley, but he crouches down and fishes the cigarette out of the puddle with one gloved hand. With the other, Adrian makes a quick, sharp gesture. ] I pray for your cleansing grace.

[ Nothing a little prestidigitation can't fix, depending on how generous one's DM is about the rules as written.

Adrian stands and offers the cigarette back to the woman with a smile. ] Normally, I would warn you that these are quite dangerous for your health... but it is your last one.

[micycle]

[ There are inherently some built-in benefits to living here without adult supervision. No limit to where you can go, and how late you can go there. No one to police what he eats, or what laws he breaks to get it. No one to tell him that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn't be driving around with no license, or more than a few minutes of driver's ed.

There's also no one to get onto him when he tries very, very hard to pick up a vice that he still finds utterly disgusting. But Eddie does it when he's stressed, so he figures maybe it helps. And besides, he's almost seventeen. Plenty of seventeen-year-olds back home smoke. Steve did, back when Mike was a kid.

Doesn't mean he's good at it, though. He's always struggling to get the stupid things lit. ]

Here. [ It sounds from a short ways down the alley, where a lanky, bedraggled kid is crouched against the wall. Not sitting, given the rain-wet concrete, but balanced on his heels in an unsustainable hunch, as he reaches into his coat pocket for a battered box. As worn as it is, there are only a few cigarettes missing. ] Take a few.

[ Then, because it's what every adult back home seems to say every time they smoke: ] I'm trying to quit.

[ Not necessarily a lie - he's trying to quit before he starts, really, just having one here and there when he's really freaked out about something. ]

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard does not make a habit of lurking in dark alleys. It's subtle and stereotypical in ways that simply do not suit him, because nothing about him has ever been subtle in his life. He was raised by unsubtle people. This is simply the nature of things.

He's in this alley because it is a nice little shortcut back to where he's left his car. The night is cold and wet and--

--well at least there's a friendly face that doesn't smell like alcohol or noodles.]

Is it so bad that you can't ask a coworker for an extra?

[Alucard's gold eyes peer out from the darkness first before the rest of him steps into the dim lighting. His coat is heavy (he lined it with furs from the winter market) and he looks very well bundled up.]

slides in here..........

[deliverant]

[ okay, vash is not really at the stage where he would actively start hating the rain, but even he has to admit that tonight, the weather is a bit ... rough. and that's saying the least about it. at least in the alleyways there is a bit of coverage from above that he can weave in and out of - vash can't seem to beat the habit of it even in this place, where being the planet's most wanted is the last reason someone would pull a gun (or worse) on him - but even then his jacket is shiny with wet, his usual spiky hair starting to flag in the continued downpour. ]

Say, we really gotta stop meeting like this.

[ chirpy - too chirpy by half, in light of karlach's obvious distress - but vash waves to her from a couple of feet away where he's got his back pressed flat against the brick wall to take advantage of the four-inch awning above.

his gaze slides down from her face to her feet, where the cigarette is already half-disintegrated in the puddle. ]

Taking a break all by yourself?

OPEN → you sadsacking at the bar, man? (brewed awakening; evening/night)

[headhunt]

( it's been a slow night.

the kind of night where karlach hasn't done much of anything for hours. except talk to the other staff, watch whatever it on the tv hanging up on the wall, and occasionally perform a few fire tricks. like flaming shots.

it's because of this emptiness that it's become impossible to miss the sad face sitting at the bar. karlach isn't exactly sure how long they've been here, but it's been long enough that she chooses to impose her presence on them. )

Looks like you've having a shit time.

( said after she winds behind the bar, grabbing one of the nearby short glasses. she pours a generous amount of tequila into the glass before sliding it over. )

Maybe I can make it better. This one is on me.

[elsecall]

[ That obvious, huh? Because — sure — Jasnah has been mean-mugging into her own reflection on the bar for the better part of ten minutes now. Sitting there, taking refuge from the rain, and wondering how long she can get away with it before she's pressed to order something.

In fact, she's steeling herself for that exact scenario — buy a drink or scram — when the very tall, very study-looking woman she'd noted on her arrival goes so far as to slide her a drink. She'd nearly done a doubletake, half-wondering whether one of the Singers from back home had found their way here too. Upon closer inspection, however, the similarities diverged.

But! Back to the drink. Hmm. Clear? Back on Roshar, she tended not to touch anything stronger than a red. The clear stuff was strictly off the table. ]

...Thank you.

[ She says, but it doesn't exactly sounds as if she means it. Jasnah wraps a hand around the glass — her right hand, which is bare. Her left hand stays folded in her lap, gloved. ]

Ah, what is it?

[pse]

[ As the owner of said sad face, Kimiko makes a pretty pathetic picture up on her stool. Her feet don't even touch the footrest bar, and she's been nursing one giant electric blue cocktail for the last half hour. An occasional sip, sure, but mostly just toying with the umbrella resting against the glass as the ice melts. Her phone is never more than a few inches away from her hands.

She grabs it, opens it.
Starts to type something.
Deletes the message midway through.

Phone snap shuts; her fingers curl anxiously around its shell.
It's set down somewhat forcefully.

The pattern restarts over a few minutes later, on and on and on — until Karlach is kind enough to intervene. The tequila shimmers sedately in its shot glass, looking quite appetising. Kimiko doesn't hesitate, plucking it up off the bar and downing it in one swig. The burn of it goes down, but not entirely smoothly, as a muscle in her chest flinches and the brief of her chin is something slightly less than graceful. She's gotten better at drinking over the last year, sure, but she hasn't had time to build up tolerance to the unique tastes the way most people her age have.

Karlach is given a tiny, appreciative smile; an open hand turns over. It's as close to a thank you as she can say without her phone. ]

[marcato]

[When he first arrived at this bar, he was optimistic. Unhappy people tend to gather in bars like flies to rotting meat, and Aunamee has a special fondness for unhappy people. But this bar is empty, and the patrons that are here are in good moods, ooing and awing at party tricks, talking about their weekends, watching sports that he can't make sense of. He bought a cheap whiskey he was intending to nurse, but then he blinked, and then it was gone. Did he drink it? Is that why his fingers are numb?

He stares ahead. He twitches.

His fingers catch the glass that Karlach slides over to him without breaking his stare. When he brings it to his lips, his grip is just a little too strong.]

I'm fine.

[His voice is smooth enough that you could almost believe him, if not for his sleepless eyes.]

I'm always fine, dear stranger.

OPEN → wasteland tv break (outside panorama; daylight hours)

[headhunt]

( one of karlach's favourite parts of living here has been the technology. television, radio, phones, cars, and so much more. it's worlds away from anything she has ever known, worlds away from a place where magic is seeped into almost every corner of the world. not so much magic here.

—well. not counting radio signals. karlach had asked how they worked at some point, but the answer she had been given really was just as good as claiming it to be magic.

there's a piece of that magic in her car. and not just in the stereo! instead in the form of a portable tv. it's a huge and heavy box, but it has many functions. it plays tapes, radio, and even gets reception for television shows. the screen isn't nearly as big as the one in the motel room, but it's big enough.

karlach's jeep can be found just parked outside of one the diffusion zones. she's already ventured inside to search for valuables and other things to sell, loading up her car with a few small finds. she's just not ready to leave yet.

instead of driving all the way back, she throws a thick blanket over the open truckbed of her jeep and fishes out her monstrous box of a portable television.

by the time anyone else shows up, she's at least halfway through one of the episodes of a trashy dating show. )

Nooo! She doesn't love you, girl!

( she crows at the tv, whacking her hand against the side of her car in frustration. )

OPEN → come with me to a world of pure ... corpses? (fringes; anytime)

[headhunt]

( there are two things in front of her:

- a swan boat. whimsical, fun, adorable.
- chocolate river. surprisingly not whimsical, fun, or adorable.

not just because a chocolate river looks uncomfortably like a shit river, but because it's full of corpses. weird corpses. they bob over the chocolate water, most of them face down, but all of them covered in thorny tentacles or some kind of spikes. it's enough for someone, such as karlach, to assume that the water isn't for consumption.

or swimming.

or touching.

picking up a stick from the ground, karlach testingly pokes the edge of it against the surface of the brown river. )

Better not be a beastie in there waiting to drag me in.

( she threatens empty air. )

[searingbond]

[ Sciel hasn't been in this world long enough to have explored anywhere near the bulk of Panorama, but she finds herself venturing outside it already anyway. Incredible and exciting as the place is, it's also occasionally overwhelming to someone whose home 'city' could be considered small and sleepy by comparison. So she's taken to hopping on her (newly-fixed) motorcycle and speeding out into the Fringes every once in a while, if only to feel the wind on her face and breathe in a way you...can't, really, in a place so congested.

It's on one of these days that she notices the river. Though she doesn't stop, she does slow a bit, engine sputtering along as she follows its path for a while. Sciel's inclination isn't that it's chocolate, but mud, which seems the most realistic...based on her experience, anyway. Her eyes drift across the floating corpses, which generate a frown of reasonable concern, hand twitching at her side as if to summon her weapon.

It's only when she hears a voice that she looks away from the bodies, gaze sweeping the landscape until it finds Karlach. ]

I...can see at least a few 'beasties' in there already. [ The woman...is not a complete unknown, given how many different kinds of people Sciel has come across in her time in the city so far, but she does still note the red skin, the horns, the tail. ] Hopefully they're not energetic enough anymore to reach up and grab you.

[ Though her assessment isn't one made with the most confidence... ]

But, ah...if they do, don't worry! I've got your back.