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WHO: Gen & OTA TO KENOMA.
WHAT: Aftermath of the events of Soviseri.
WHERE: Around the Citadel.
WHEN: Late Soviseri into early/mid-Firaseri.
WARNINGS: None at the moment, will add if applicable!
i. citadel halls
[ Shortly after the Kenoma's return to Achamoth from their respective assignments (and though very few of them probably know what's coming, before the public reveal of their 'prisoners,') the Aions of the Citadel might hear some slight commotion. The sounds of an argument muffled past a door, it seems like -- though 'argument' might be a poor definition of whatever's going on, since one voice is definitely speaking far more than the other, and in a much angrier tone of voice. At least it doesn't last terribly long before there's the sound of a door being flung open, followed by the stomp of footsteps, then -- ]
I'm leaving. Don't follow me.
[ That latter bit is snarled in clear irritation, answered by a young man's meek 'Yes, sir.' Gen slams the door shut behind him as he skulks out out of his room and into the halls, giving an irritable click of the tongue. And only then realizes that he has an audience. ]
... what.
[ Gen scowls as he looks to whoever's caught him in that embarrassing little tiff with his retainer, though -- that's not necessarily the most alarming thing about him at the moment. He's clearly been having a rough go of things, face pale save the exhausted shadows under his eyes and hair a disheveled mess in desperate need of a trim. Not to mention his left sleeve, which hangs empty at his side. Though Gen reflexively tries to angle himself to keep that wounded side slightly out of view, there's really only so much he can do for such a glaring injury. ]
ii. citadel grounds
[ He can't remember the last time he got a full night's sleep. Certainly not since they'd been sent to Venera. In any case, it's starting to become routine that the unholy hours of night find Gen wandering about the halls of the Citadel, the sounds of his boots scuffing off tile cutting through the chilly silence. It's usually quiet at this time of night even with the random assortment of servants and guards that often flit past him, though he's not sure if that's a good or a bad thing. Maybe the quiet will help him rest, he thinks sometimes. But the quiet mostly ends up further muddying the turmoil of his thoughts. And given the general state of affairs around the Citadel these days, he struggles to even distract himself with familiar comforts. The lurid sights and attractions of the entertainment district just don't hold the same allure any more.
And so any other Kenoma awake in these small hours of the night might find Gen out around the Citadel grounds, the harsh black of his clothes almost melting him into the darkness. Sorry if he startles you during your peaceful nighttime rest.
iii. wildcard
[ Gen can be found skulking around the Citadel and the streets of Achamoth looking generally exhausted and out of sorts, or in the training fields in the mornings still trying to stick to his usual routine, so please feel free to assume anything else if these prompts don't work for you! Otherwise, I'm available at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
databomb / inktrashing#5307 for plotting purposes if you'd like to plan something! ]
WHAT: Aftermath of the events of Soviseri.
WHERE: Around the Citadel.
WHEN: Late Soviseri into early/mid-Firaseri.
WARNINGS: None at the moment, will add if applicable!
i. citadel halls
[ Shortly after the Kenoma's return to Achamoth from their respective assignments (and though very few of them probably know what's coming, before the public reveal of their 'prisoners,') the Aions of the Citadel might hear some slight commotion. The sounds of an argument muffled past a door, it seems like -- though 'argument' might be a poor definition of whatever's going on, since one voice is definitely speaking far more than the other, and in a much angrier tone of voice. At least it doesn't last terribly long before there's the sound of a door being flung open, followed by the stomp of footsteps, then -- ]
I'm leaving. Don't follow me.
[ That latter bit is snarled in clear irritation, answered by a young man's meek 'Yes, sir.' Gen slams the door shut behind him as he skulks out out of his room and into the halls, giving an irritable click of the tongue. And only then realizes that he has an audience. ]
... what.
[ Gen scowls as he looks to whoever's caught him in that embarrassing little tiff with his retainer, though -- that's not necessarily the most alarming thing about him at the moment. He's clearly been having a rough go of things, face pale save the exhausted shadows under his eyes and hair a disheveled mess in desperate need of a trim. Not to mention his left sleeve, which hangs empty at his side. Though Gen reflexively tries to angle himself to keep that wounded side slightly out of view, there's really only so much he can do for such a glaring injury. ]
ii. citadel grounds
[ He can't remember the last time he got a full night's sleep. Certainly not since they'd been sent to Venera. In any case, it's starting to become routine that the unholy hours of night find Gen wandering about the halls of the Citadel, the sounds of his boots scuffing off tile cutting through the chilly silence. It's usually quiet at this time of night even with the random assortment of servants and guards that often flit past him, though he's not sure if that's a good or a bad thing. Maybe the quiet will help him rest, he thinks sometimes. But the quiet mostly ends up further muddying the turmoil of his thoughts. And given the general state of affairs around the Citadel these days, he struggles to even distract himself with familiar comforts. The lurid sights and attractions of the entertainment district just don't hold the same allure any more.
And so any other Kenoma awake in these small hours of the night might find Gen out around the Citadel grounds, the harsh black of his clothes almost melting him into the darkness. Sorry if he startles you during your peaceful nighttime rest.
a.
Bad days find him slowly trailing a meandering path down a hallway or a path outside, head ducked and hand clutching at his left shoulder. The injury itself might have been healed up, skin and flesh forcibly melded together where his limb ends short, but it still hurts sometimes. Hurts a lot. ... this is what they call phantom pain, right?
The tip of his boot catches on some uneven spot on the ground, sending him stumbling, and Gen groans as he comes to lean against something for support -- a nearby tree, a bit of fencing, whatever -- just so he can stay upright until this godawful sensation stops. Sorry not sorry if he's getting in your way.
b.
But (relatively) good days find Gen outside, staring into the middle distance -- maybe on one of the Citadel's many balconies, or out and about in the gardens. Though the heavy dark circles under his eyes indicate he's not awake at this ludicrous hour just because he's a night owl, at least he seems mostly calm, if tired.
There's the rustle of fabric as he withdraws a cigarette and his lighter, parking the former between his lips and flicking on the latter with a practice swipe of the thumb. Too bad the night air is cold, and the weather refuses to permit him even that small vice; turns out lighting a cigarette in anything but the calmest air is hard when you don't have an extra hand to shield that tiny fire. The lighter's flame sputters and dies once, twice in the face of a stiff breeze, and Gen huffs an irritated noise to himself. ]
Hey. [ Then, realizing he has company, he turns to whoever else might be up at this ridiculous hour. And, barely giving them the chance to respond to his brusque greeting, Gen tosses his lighter their way. Better move fast. ] Do me a favor.
[ He words it like a request, but says it like a demand. Like an order. Rude. ]
iii. wildcard
[ Gen can be found skulking around the Citadel and the streets of Achamoth looking generally exhausted and out of sorts, or in the training fields in the mornings still trying to stick to his usual routine, so please feel free to assume anything else if these prompts don't work for you! Otherwise, I'm available at
no subject
For a moment, he breathes. Even, deep, following the patterns he knows will soothe his limbs and slow his heartbeat. Not enough--nothing is ever enough to appease his missing fingers. But after a moment, he judges: better. ]
There's no reason for you to have to learn from zero, [ Matt says. He sounds a bit arch, but he feels calmer. ] Building character through suffering is great and all, but there's more than enough of that to go around, don't you think?
no subject
There's the rustle of fabric as he listlessly grips at his shoulder to try and ease the constant pain that ebbs and flows through his nerves, and Gen eventually looks away as he mutters, ]
... I can manage. [ But this reiteration of the sentiment sounds ... uncomfortable. It's subtle, but there are distinct suggestions that Gen simply isn't accustomed to this sort of conversation -- the way his voice comes lower and a little lacking bite, the way he avoids eye contact, the tight curl of his fingers into the fabric of his shirt. He clears his throat before adding reluctantly, ] I didn't ask you for any help. Don't go getting all pissy 'cause I turned it down. -- or are you one of those types used to talking things over with everyone all the time.
[ Matt's guess had been right -- Gen's shittiness is mostly just out of a desire to be macho and self-sufficient. But it's also just that he doesn't know how else to exist. Willingly accepting that offer of help from someone who seems as soft as Matt would imply weakness, and he can't permit that. ]
no subject
As is often the case with his fellow Kenoma (let's be real, with people in general) Matt is cognizant of how much he doesn't know. Gen is as oblique to him as a stone wall. ]
I know you can manage, [ he says after a moment. That seems obvious to him, but maybe it bears saying. ] I just think ...
From a tactician's point of view, it's like. I have some experience with this shit, so why shouldn't you benefit from it? If anything that's helped me helps you, it could get you feeling better--and fighting better--more quickly. That benefits everybody.