001. open post // quiet little burials.

[mordechai]

Take a prompt, take your time, post whenever you like.

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Waking the Dead 2.0 || Between the Lines || Alistair and Kaz; March 2063

[ktotheatothez]

[Kaz has rather grown to love the little rooftop perch Alistair showed him. He's taken to meditating up here most days, and some nights. Nights that have left him drenched in a cold sweat and a perturbed mind.

Tonight is one such night - one where he hasn't heard or seen his Máistir at all.

He's sitting on the the roof, legs crossed. He's only wearing a tank top, sweats and sneakers. The Wings of Therion are strapped to his back, his phone is in his pocket and he almost prays Alistair shows up.

Because who else can I talk to about this anyway?]

[mordechai]

[And the reason why Alistair hasn't been around is that The Mood came again. It started, as always, with an itch. It was followed by a memory, and then another, and then another. All of it boiled down to the gnawing emptiness in his gut, that light/not light, odd/not odd feeling in that chest, and that little voice telling him Really, did you honestly think that this was going to work?

So he slipped out for a day. He needed to get his bearings, attempt to fall into the new habit of 'living for himself'. That habit that did not involve seeing him in everything.

He knows, before he even opens the door, that he isn't going to be alone on the rooftop. He's not surprised at all to see why.]

Isn't it way past your bedtime, kid?

[The question is soft as he's coming around with a cigarette. He's dusty from the road, as per usual. And he hasn't shaved yet, hasn't bothered really fixing his hair.

(Those who know him best know that the state of his beard and hair is directly proportional to the amount of stress he is under. He does not want to think about whether Kaz has noticed that by now.)]

[ktotheatothez]

Wow, you look like shit.

[And that has somehow become Kaz's default phrase when he sees Alistair all dusty, and scruffy. His mentor looks as bad as he does (then again he doesn't need to shave as much).]

To answer your question, yes it is. But I can't sleep.

[He draws a tin from his pocket, containing a freshly opened pack of the same smokes that Nico likes. Clearly this is one night that he can officially say that he's stressed enough to smoke.

Just like I promised, Hikaru.

His lighter is a trinket that Nico gave him a few days ago, upon finding his beloved boyfriend lighting up on the balcony of his condo, and he smirks a little as he lights up, proffering the pack at Alistair. And because his mentor likes the whole give it to me straight routine, Kaz drags off on his cigarette, breathes out and doesn't miss a beat when he says:]

I'm having nightmares again...

[mordechai]

[To the first statement, there's just a look: Really? That's the best you can ding me for?

The second, however, has Alistair pausing, just so, in the midst of taking a cigarette for himself.]

And?

[ktotheatothez]

And it's stressing me out. You sealed them, which is why they don't say much anymore... Except that sometimes I'm back at the Battle for the Vatican - and I'm not watching Godhand Lowe. I am Godhand Lowe.

[He pauses and takes a good, long drag off of his cig, flicking the ash away as he brings it away from his lips.]

I'm probably being impertinent, but I can admit to being a tiny bit freaked if they're somehow eking into my mind.

The night after Hikaru and Brig's bro out at his place?

[atlas_shrugged]

SENT: 07:00 AM
Good morning, sir. I had a talk with Hikaru the other night and found footage of what he'd shared with me. I was wondering if I could speak to you about it when you're free. I saw that you were there for him.

Thank you, sir. I apologize for asking for your time.

[ The video of Hikaru's awakening in his 27th life cycle, and of Akihiko's death, are still playing back in his mind ]

[mordechai]

[He's up on the gates of the South District with a sniper rifle, a sandwich, his cigarettes and his canister when he gets the message.

Huh.]

SENT: 7:03 AM
I'm free now. South District, Falner. Main Gate.

Why the heck does he have his rifle at the South Gate?? Same reason Brig has his shield evarwhere?

[atlas_shrugged]

SENT: 07:05 AM
Be there in a jiffy, sir.

[ Brig runs from where he is on the Falner Estate and arrives at the Main Gate a good 20 minutes later. He doesn't see Alistair anywhere. ]

SENT: 07:28 AM
Sir, I'm at the Main Gate but I'm not quite sure where you are.

Yep! Hahaha.

[mordechai]

SENT: 7:30 AM
Enter the outpost on the side and take the stairs - if anyone asks, tell them that you're with me. I'll be hard to miss once you're up top.

Waking the Dead 2.0 // May 5, 2063

[inqdeirdra]

[ Deirdra's husband, Gideon may be old, but he's young enough to remember that it's the birthday of a certain Alistair Mordechai. She asks him if she got the date right. Upon Gideon's confirmation, she promptly shoots a text to Alistair. ]

SENT: 06:30 PM
Hello, happy birthday Alistair. Hope everything is relatively good.
Rilea still dusts your favorite chair out by the patio.

[mordechai]

[And he was about to go for a night out in the town (Ziz operatives had just cleared him for something like that, thankyouverymuch Riley).

Huh.]

SENT: 6:31 PM
Thanks. I figured she would.

[He does have the habit of turning up at the oddest times. He hasn't been able to do that, though, since...

Well. It's been almost a month now.]

[inqdeirdra]

[ She sets her phone down and starts this awkward dance between objects and people, where she asks Gideon whether he thinks Alistair is coming or not. Then, she picks up a few bottles then sets them down again, thinks about it, then picks them up again. THEN, she asks *whoever is at home, maybe Calintz or Rilea* if THEY think Alistair is coming this year or not, then does the awkward bottle thing again.

Finally, she settles to bringing out two 6-packs and waits by the patio. ]

[mordechai]

[And the only reason why it takes Alistair over an hour to come around is because he still isn't at top form. He could have teleported, really, but he also wants to find every possible way of getting his body to cooperate with him. That means exercise.

(This is what he likes to tell himself anyway.)

So, at around 7:45 PM, Deirdra will hear the sound of a door opening, a booming greeting from Shane ("Well, well, well, Mordechai~ haven't seen yer sorry arse aroun' these parts a while!"), quiet words, greetings. Then Alistair's moving to join her on the patio.

He spots the six packs, smiles from around the cigarette that he's smoking. Sitting down now, to join her.]

You're right. The chair's still squeaky clean.

Waking the Dead 2.0 : 5 May 2063, Late Evening : Those who have the most, live the longest.

[kinesthesia]

[ There are perks to being a shapechanger, such as looking like a mundane-looking fox that can lift a six pack of beer in it's mouth with relative ease ( she's up-ended bigger things before -- completely by accident -- like the oven she crawled under and lifted by mistake because something bit her tail and of course she ended up jerking to her feet ) while maneuvering up the walls towards an intended target.

She would have brought more, but walking on all fours is quicker than walking on two; the trade-off being one mouth in place of two hands.

Trotting over now, tail swishing like a puppy happy to see it's master, before she plunks down her butt to squint at you because Mindspeech has that awkward stipulation of eye contact first.

Come on, Alistair. She brought you some birthday booze? ]

[mordechai]

[The first thing Alistair had done after his talk with Deirdra was go right back up to the gates of the South District and set up all over again.

Sue him, he's under virtual house arrest and fucking bored.

Maybe that is part of the reason why he knew she was coming a while back. Still, he doesn't turn to face her, not until she's right there. Their usual routine.]

You didn't have to.

[Yeah, he's grousing. It's only because he knows that she can take it.]

[kinesthesia]

[ There's a soft clink as she sets her present down.

( I know. ) Yeah, won't even try to get you to say that you're glad to see her.

Peering at that leg, and then looking back up. ( The lot of you are so bad at house arrest. ) ]

[mordechai]

Because we don't need to be under house arrest.

[Wait.]

Okay. Some of us don't need it.

[He'd like to think that he counts in that party.]

10 Aug 2063 "for a first effort this feels kinda last ditch / I guess this just got kinda drastic"

[larue]

[ It has been a long, long day.

Josh had gone to the Kaiser's class early ( an hour before everyone else ) to kick back and go through the readings he needed to catch up on. Only not really, because Liandrin Delacroix's syllabus was nearly the same as his last class -- don't go there, LaRue; don't think about that one -- whoops, too late.

He's not particularly proud of the way he just... goes through the motions. He does ask questions, but they are few and far between throughout those three hours. When the bell rings, he packs up and deliberately makes a beeline towards the football field for his first day of training with the team.

He barely remembers any of it, but he knows that he did good. The game is something that his body still remembers and he should be surprised about this given that he's gone without it for so long and tossing around the ball and running through old plays with his boys that one time in San Diego really, really doesn't count at all.

But... it's all about going through those motions and barely really taking anything in because his head might be in the right space at the right time -- but his heart isn't. Thank goodness he's got some practice in hiding that. Yeah, let's not talk about the looks and the pats and the invite to go hang that he'd turned down -- nobody pressed, which was a relief.

He doesn't go home. Instead, he takes dinner at King's Rest and plugs into a movie he listens to mostly to distract him, but he doesn't finish that either and he leaves as quietly as he'd come in.

It's part deliberate and part-not that he finds himself on that wall, close to the spot where he'd found Alistair that last time weeks and weeks ago before he'd learned about... everything.

He's sitting down at that, tablet on his lap, one earbud plugged in even if there's nothing on the screen.

He should have done this sooner, but well... hm. ]

[mordechai]

[Josh ends up waiting for about twp hours before he might just pick up on the distinct way that one Alistair Mordechai comes around. The Seer's working his way through another cigarette as expected, with his sniper rifle slung over one shoulder as expected.

He pauses, of course, when he spots the kid. No comments, though: just a lifted eyebrow in his direction before the Seer's quietly setting his things down, and quietly setting up for the night.

No, this doesn't surprise him. In light of recent events? No, not at all.]

[larue]

[ He glances up, offers the Seer a nod in greeting and just quietly watches as Alistair sets up.

Sorry, Mr. Mordechai. This one's going to be quiet for a little longer. In the eloquent slang of the early 2010s: he cannot words. ]

[mordechai]

[That suits him just fine. In fact, he stretches it out over the span of two and a half cigarettes.]

You're a long way from home, kid.

[Not 'LaRue', this time; it's a deliberate turn from his usual. He's also got his eyes fixed on the horizon.]

Waking the Dead 2.0 | Arcadia: Dé Máirt (Tuesday), 20th of Samhain.

[kinesthesia]

[ This is the sum total of Cisco Montelibano-Profaci's time in the Lightless Lands: wake up, have breakfast, play runner for Yue for the chunk of her morning, lunch followed by a nap in the courtyard by Aidan's tail, more running because being a healer's errand girl is both fun and there's just so much to see in Arcadia; then dinner, then sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat.

She resisted the urge to fret over you when you and Lorenzo came back looking like someone had given you both a sound beating. She didn't say a thing about that, because stating the obvious would have been putting salt on the wound of an already perpetually grumpy Rivers-Hunter and she's heard enough horror stories and then some about how Arcadia makes a body inclined to be more themself in ways that said body would usually think twice about. She's nosy by nature, this is proven fact. How not to be nosy means making sure she doesn't have idle hands.

When she wanders down to the little house that doubles as your clinic though, she does so on four tiny feet with a basket of food from the castle and a bottle of the good stuff that she nicked from the kichen.

Nothing wrong with bringing you a little something to make you feel better about being grounded for a while, right? ]

[mordechai]

[ And you're going to find this one out on the patio, back turned towards the door, facing the garden. His injured leg (the right one again - just his luck, right?) has been stretched out in front of him. The bandages wrapped around the rest of him are fresh. There's a six pack of beer sitting on the table, beside the ashtray and his customary pack of cigarettes.

Familiar? Yes, even if the place is different, even if the both of you are older and back then, he hadn't been wounded (maybe you had been). Furthermore, back then, the bottle second from the front would be the one that he'd be working through.

It's the last bottle in the six that is in his hands, that is being brought up to his lips. The hand that is doing that is wearing another ring in place of the Netsach one that he usually puts there. You've seen that ring's cousin on another's hand in the past. ]

[kinesthesia]

[ Any other time, she might have decided to trot on over, basket carried in her mouth, tail swishing. But the ring gives her a moment's pause and she wonders if she should probably go, maybe leave the basket on a table with a note.

That would have been her M.O. years ago, but it's not the way she does things now.

The change doesn't take long, and she's deliberate in making sure that you hear the fall of her footsteps, careful as they are before she comes to stand beneath the arch of the door. ]

Brought you food.

[mordechai]

[ Turning at your approach, and staring for a second, as if he had been so deep in his thoughts that he has to take a moment out to return to the real world and properly acknowledge your presence.

Really: he ought to be better than this. ]

Thanks.

[ Taking a drag from his cigarette, and letting his gaze slide away from you. There is, of course, no invite for you to come and join him. There doesn't have to be one. ]