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Author Topic: Tired Eyes [Nephero!]  (Read 429 times)

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Tired Eyes [Nephero!]
« on: November 18, 2017, 07:49:39 pm »
Handshakes, polite greetings, business talk, a bit of drink and a few jokes for a job well done, more handshakes.

It was all so very routine, and Kirkley had the rhythm of it memorized so very well, he played the part of perfect smuggler and businessman perfectly. Transactions rarely had a hitch with him when it came to meeting the clients. The hardest part was always the job itself, and he was always glad it was over when the contracts were signed, credits swapped into the appropriate accounts, and he could go on his merry way.

"Went well?"

A soothing and familiar female voice cooed at him in his earpiece as he walked away from the establishment he'd just delivered a briefcase of illegal and extremely rare alien body parts to, and he let out a soft sigh.

"Mistress, when have I ever hidden it from you when something went wrong?"
"Several times, for the most minor and irritating of things."
"............. Yeah it went fine. Cross my heart and hope to die."

Their conversation was kept short and brief, as it always should be, in Aedolis of all places. He always found himself feeling a bit more on edge on this planet, which stirred up a lot of old mixed feelings in him. He glanced at the town of Amristah around him, remembered what it used to look like even a thousand years ago, as he slid his hands into his pockets and went for a walk. The Loveless was stationed securely in a private dock in Haviah, and he didn't find any particular reason to amscray just yet. It'd been a long time since he'd been here last.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he remembered some of the people who used to live here so long ago, back before the earth was the decrepit thing it was now. Made him sick if he thought about it too much; so he elected not to let his mind wander and instead busied himself with something more important, more grounded in the here and now.

He was hungry.

Simple enough. Time to look for a place to eat, yeah? Maybe get some coffee--coffee sounded good; he'd be needing it if he was gonna get back on the rail to Haviah tonight. Or maybe he'd stay the night here, he wasn't sure yet. Either way, coffee.

A lot of the local places here seemed to be a bit uppity to him; he'd heard that apparently, Amristah was a good place for Pilots to buy vacation homes. He didn't know how true it was, he'd literally just heard it walking past some guy on the street, but he supposed it would be good for that. Would at the very least explain the higher prices, even on some of the lower levels. He decided to settle for good ol' Manolins, however, getting a medium black coffee to start things off.

While he leaned up against the counter and waited for his order, he glanced around at some of the other patrons. It was pretty late in the day, so naturally the place was pretty empty. Made it nice and quiet, good for a deep think--hang on. He blinked, and tilted his head a little as his mismatched gaze fell on the sight of a man by himself at one of the tables; body posture read stressed, the look on his face a bit distant. Kirkley knew that look; he'd worn it only so many thousands of times himself; what could be wrong, he wondered? To make a man look like that, it had to be either one really bad thing, or a lot of bad things all piling up onto the camel's back before that inevitable last straw broke it.

He started a bit when the barista handed him his coffee; he gave them a distracted thanks, took a sip like an idiot and burned his tongue because he forgot it was hot. He frowned down at the cup, looked back up to the man and decided yknow what, fuck it. He looked like he could use a listening ear.

He approached slowly, coming around to stand in front of the guy so he hopefully wouldn't spook him or seem too creepy.

"Hey there, mind if I join ya?" He asked with a smile, tone of voice friendly, if not also a bit cautious. He was hoping he seemed friendly enough despite his height and build and... Everything, that this guy would maybe feel intrigued enough to talk.

Offline nephero

Re: Tired Eyes [Nephero!]
« Reply #1 on: November 19, 2017, 02:58:13 am »
He knew he should go home.

How long had he been sitting there? It was hard to tell with the short days and the long nights, especially this close to winter. Especially when he'd been smoking, time distortion leaving him disoriented and unsure of himself. Like he wasn't already.

Yavul looked down at his coffee cup, at the series of markings there, and wondered for perhaps the third time that night what he'd ordered. He was sure the markings were supposed to tell him, but just when he thought he'd figured out the puzzle, there was an extra letter in where he didn't expect.

He should go home.

There was no reason to be there, sitting alone in a quiet cafe. Well, not no reason. He'd left his jacket behind, earlier, somewhere just past sunset and a couple smokes ago. The Amristah weather, several miles north and several miles in altitude above what Yavul was used to, chilled to the bone this deep into the season. That had been the reason he'd stopped for coffee, but not the reason he'd stayed, and certainly not the reason he'd wandered off in no direction at all in the first place.

He should go home. But his legs refused to move, and all his hands wanted to do was fiddle with his cup, twist and turn it and watch as the Manolin's logo rotated out of sight only to swing back into view again. Like the rotation of the earth. Like the hands of a clock. Over and over and over until it just...

Stopped.

Yavul sighed, took a sip from the cup, and found to his chagrin that not only was it nothing he would have normally ordered, but he'd been sitting there long enough for the damn thing to get room-temperature cold. And that was just downright unpleasant. He set the cup down, firmly, and settled his chin into the palm of his flesh hand. Sat, and stared at nothing at all while simultaneously noting just how badly the windows were in need of a wiping down. Someone had had their kid in here earlier, or a pack of them, because the glass was just coated in four-foot high hand and nose prints.

Normally, the sight would have lit a fire of fondness in him, but tonight... tonight, Yavul couldn't feel much of anything. And somehow, that was far worse.

Not that he was allowed to meditate on such a thing, because at that moment a veritable mountain of a man decided to spring up from the ground like some kind of fairy-tale antagonist, startling Yavul out of his thoughts with the polite askance to join him. Join him in what? Yavul hadn't figured he'd been doing anything noteworthy, but then again... he was who he was.

Trying to figure out if he had the energy to put on his PR face, Yavul quirked a smile in return, gesturing at the other chair across the table. He could pantomime, after all, for a few moments. It'd give him the kick in the pants he needed to return to his apartment if the conversation proved too much, and so Yavul was willing to take the risk of this being another potential buyer at Mia's Stolen Pants Emporium. Woof.

"Naw, not at all, please, have a seat." he said, running his fingers through his hair to try and stimulate his brain cells into waking up again.

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Re: Tired Eyes [Nephero!]
« Reply #2 on: November 19, 2017, 10:00:53 am »
Right off the bat, Kirkley noticed a few things as he got closer. Judging by the automatic polite smile and simple gesture, this guy worked with the public, or at least with lots of people, on a daily basis. And secondly, his gaze only needed to flicker briefly over the man's robotic arm for him to come to the conclusion that whoever this guy was (had kind of a familiar face, but only vaguely,) he was of some importance, or had a lot of money, to afford that fancy lookin' prosthetic.

Most definitely a Pilot. Noble or Royal, probably Royal noting his visible appearance (maybe mid thirties-ish) was Kirkley's best guess. That left openers like 'You look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?' out of the question, because he probably got that a lot. Who he was didn't really matter so much anyways; just that at the end of this conversation he might be feeling a bit better. That was the goal.

"Thank you kindly." He smiled as he took the seat, gingerly at first given how it creaked threateningly under his weight. They didn't make furniture with giants in mind, especially in places like this.

He nodded to the man's forgotten coffee cup, setting his own down as well. "Got cold?" He assumed because the guy had been here before he had and he'd barely touched the damn thing from what Kirkley had witnessed.

"I'd offer you mine but I think cooties is the last thing you need added to your worries." He said it with a snort, popping the lid off his cup as a little cloud of steam escaped out. No wonder he'd burned himself!

He looked up at the man with a smile, offering his hand for a shake. "Name's Kirkley. Long day?"

He kept his tone of voice light, still cautious--sure, Guy here probably could do well to talk about his problems, but if he didn't want to Kirkley wouldn't press any issues. He tried to keep the commentary simple for now, opening the door and gauging how things might go from there. If this guy just wanted a simple distraction and pointless conversation then that was fine too. Not everybody wanted to talk about their lives to a stranger--though, for some that was the most comforting option.

Offline nephero

Re: Tired Eyes [Nephero!]
« Reply #3 on: November 19, 2017, 11:02:18 pm »
Honestly, Yavul should have gone home. This wasn't shaping up to be anything like what he wanted to do or where he wanted to be, but... but he wasn't ready to head back to the apartment, either. He wasn't ready to head anywhere, trapped between the mindless impulse to leave and the overwhelming need to stay. It was maddening enough on his own, sitting there at the table and mentally berating himself for every minute wasted here staring into nothing.

What was wrong with him? Grisham was back at the apartment, had said he'd be there for when Yavul was done with his visit, but how could Yavul drag his shit back like this without so much as courtesy double-bagging it? The man was an empath, and his best friend, and what kind of a selfish asshole made his best fucking friend soak up all the bile that saturated his every goddamn pore?

The same kind of selfish asshole who brought back bad memories to sick old women who only wanted to live their lives in peace, that was who. Why couldn't he just let this shit go? Why couldn't he just leave well enough alone and stop trying to have more? It was greedy, it was so greedy, and it never worked, all it ever did was make everyone else feel just as shitty as he did. Even complete strangers in cafes.

Wake up, Yavul, there is a person sitting there waiting for you to respond, not just stare into space like a dead, mutant fish.

Glub, blub.

Yavul took the other man's hand with another smile, clamping down hard on the acrid viscous nastiness that was festering in the back of his skull. At least this wasn't just someone gushing at him. It genuinely seemed like Kirkley didn't know who he was, which, while supremely surprising, was actually... a relief? At least this way there was none of the awkward starstruck fanning. Yavul was just... not in the mood for that. So very much not in the mood.

“Naw, you're cool. Ain't much thirsty I guess, even for cooties au lait.” Yavul grinned, mouth pulling to one side to flash his teeth as he moved the cup of lukewarm disappointment to the side and firmly out of range. He cracked his neck a bit, savoring the way his vertebrae popped, before looking across the table at what had to be a mutant mountain bear glamoured up to look like people. “Yavul, pleasure t’ meetcha. An’ yeah, can say that. Windin’ down a bit before headin’ home.”

Trying to, anyway.

Or just procrastinating it altogether.

“How ‘bout yourself?” he asked, more than glad to get off the subject of himself and onto… anything else.
« Last Edit: November 19, 2017, 11:26:44 pm by nephero »

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Re: Tired Eyes [Nephero!]
« Reply #4 on: November 20, 2017, 04:04:04 pm »
The handshake was returned, friendly and firm enough, and Kirkley got a good look at the other man--Yavul's--smile. The flash of teeth, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, eyes which Kirkley could tell would do best to be full of mischief. The soft beginnings of wrinkles on his face told books about a man who knew how to have fun, who liked to laugh, and those were the types bogged down with the heaviest shit. They were also the types who hid everything in a box under a loose floorboard under a rug and didn't tell a single soul about how they were feeling.

He drew in a slow breath, letting it out just as slow, tasting the scent of the air as it were. He caught the whiff of soap, the clinical smell of some place like a hospital maybe, retirement home, something of those sorts--a place that had to be kept clean all the time because the people in it weren't always the best at fighting off sickness and infection, essentially. It was a smell he knew all too well. What the guy had been doing there though was far beyond him. Coulda been visiting a loved one, coulda been volunteering, coulda been a lot of things.

Still, wouldn't surprise him in the least if that place was just adding on to whatever was clearly bothering poor ol' Yavul here.

His tone of voice changed just slightly when he asked Kirkley about himself, and the cursed man took the hint and shrugged a shoulder, glancing out the window to the few people on the street outside.

"Suppose I could say the same. Just finished up with a job actually, taking my time before the boss gives me my next assignment." He picked up his cup of coffee, sniffing at it and blowing on it a bit to try and cool it off before he tried another sip; still hot, bitter as hell, he shook his head and remembered now why places like Manolins weren't his favorite.

"Oh, I'm a freighter," He suddenly explained, looking up at the man as if he realized how awful that might've sounded the way he'd described it, like he was an assassin or something. "My home is my ship, we go back and forth all over the place, get into all sorts of trouble." He illustrated his point with an index finger, as if pointing to various spots on a map of this solar system that he'd been or something before he settled both hands back onto his coffee cup, which looked hilariously tiny in comparison. "It's been a while since I've been to ahh, hell, Amristah? Right--been a while since I've been here, it's nice. You live here, or are you just visiting?"

For a moment there he forgot the name of the town they were in and had been tempted to call it something else.

 

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