[ It's a nauseating sight, what she stumbles onto in the Citadel. Lottie would be a liar, and a terrible one at that, if she told anyone she didn't know what the hell was going on. Chaos, madness, destruction โ horrifically in that order. The first time she sees the prisoners on display like she was in some crazy show she'd catch on HBO, it's the trigger to a breakdown. She cries in an empty alleyway, feeling smaller and more confused than ever. By day three of them being displayed, Lottie has no more vomit to spare, little tears to give, but a need for escape.
And without any medication to stop her, especially without anyone she finds herself willing enough to grieve (for who? For what?) and cry in front of, she's planted her butt inside one of the seedier bars she's been to. Lottie doesn't try for a table, simply sits by herself at the bar and drinks something that burns harsh down her throat. Her shard is hidden, hair in braids (hardly neat, but enough to make it seem like she's given thought to her appearance).
It's when she's finished taking a particularly long and harsh sip of her drink, and she hisses through her teeth, does she notice the person beside her. She wonders if they even recognize her, if she recognizes them outside of the party she threw. Does it even matter in the end? ]
Here. [ She slides her glass, condensation making it wet to the touch. She's clearly been drinking it for quite some time, ] I don't think I can finish it..
[ Throughout Achamoth, there will be a flyer being displayed on different buildings and inside all kinds of establishments โ courtesy of Lottie's Kenoma Assigned Internโข. It reads as follows:
LOOKING FOR: a roommate! serious inquiries ONLY.
must be responsible, cleanly. good judge of character. NO pets. willing to discuss terms IF you are male. 50% of rent is YOUR responsibility.
[ At the bottom it reads to talk to the Kenoma Assigned Internโข (AKA, the finely dressed woman some ways away from the flyer) for more information. She gives you a portrait with Lottie's face on it, if you manage to pass the Not a Freakโข test, and tells you to contact her post haste to discuss the contract. ]
๐๐. ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฅ๐๐๐๐ซ๐ ๐ [ or feel free to hit me up with whatever!! ]
[ Seedy bars are Matt's favorite kind these days. Anything goes in Achamoth, but these establishments are particularly unlikely to cut him off, or to remark on the frequency and timing with which he appears. And there are so many reasons to drink right now: Abel and Himeka's capture. His role in sending Flora to her death. The unpredictable pain in his missing fingers, sometimes flaring up for a moment and sometimes radiating for hours. Matt supposes there's no better time to learn about healing potions, at least for pain relief. But he's having to adjust to so much now that the thought exhausts him.
Drinking it is.
Matt's got a purple scarf on, flecked with gold that he's been told brings out his eyes, to hide his shard. No mask today. He's as surprised to recognize Lottie as she is to recognize him, and embarrassment follows a moment after: He couldn't have been that deep in a self-pitying spiral, could he? ]
If you're sure. [ Matt shoots her a sheepish smile. He pauses to make sure the stump of his left hand is hidden at his side, then reaches for the glass with his right. ] Hey Lottie. Can I buy you something else instead? Trade?
[ It's strange, and comforting, in a very weird way to see Matt here. She thinks of the last time they had actually been at a bar, back when things weren't so ugly and confusing. When things were a little easier to ignore because nothing traumatic had happened to them yet.. The embarrassment at finding someone being equally emo at a bar by themselves is drowned out by the fact Matt probably understands why she's here. In fact, Lottie's expression softens, the exhaustion and pain mingling in her eyes easier to see, even in this dim lighting. ]
Do they have nachos here or something?
[ She doesn't say anything about that pause of his, too busy fiddling with the rings adorning her fingers. She twists them every so often, staring down at the way they glimmer in the light. Her voice is considerably light, but just loud enough for Matt to be able to catch - ]
Or, any finger foods, really.. [ She wiggles her fingers to herself, not really realizing she's doing it as she speaks. ] We can share? If that's cool with you.
[ When Matt looks back at his time on Horos, he can't remember a moment here that hasn't been fueled by pain. Even moments of happiness or hedonism feel like they've been achieved at the end of a chain, or the stretched end of a rubber band.
To be fair, life back on Earth wasn't all that much better. Matt has trouble remembering what it felt like to expect different than what the world is now: slowly circling a cosmic drain. ]
Sharing sounds great. [ He smiles faintly. ] I don't know if I'm hungry enough to eat a whole thing right now.
[ He lifts his right hand to hail a server, wincing slightly as the gesture clangs in his stump. It turns out that they do have something like nachos here, though it's more of a bread you can dip in stew. Matt figures #countit. The server departs, and Matt glances back to Lottie. ]
So, uh ... is it stupid if I ask how you're doing?
[ Troubled minds think alike, as it turns out, and it makes Lottie feel a lot less silly about coming here to Broodโข at this shady bar. And it certainly makes her feel a little more.. Well, normal, to see Matt question just how much they should pretend they both didn't just go through something terrible. ]
I'm.. [ She looks at her hand, the one that regrew itself. Her nails are a pretty hue of blue, flecks of black just as dark as the cobble that lines the streets sparkling when she tilts her hand just so. Lottie uses that same hand to rub at her face. ] God, I don't even know if I can lie about how I am.
[ She sighs out, big and dramatic, digging her elbows into the bar top so she can cradle her head in her hands. ]
Lottie Person goes to bars now to be moody by herself, instead of at home, apparently!
[ Matt doesn't think Lottie's being dramatic. Her reaction here seems wholly proportionate to the situation they're in. Her sighing and slumping is kind of charming, actually--almost like she's taking all that sadness and making it something vibrant. Matt echoes the sigh in a rueful exhale. ]
Well, what's better about being at home? [ He lifts Lottie's erstwhile cocktail and takes a sip. ] No offense to our coworkers, but I don't know if being comforting is exactly their bag.
[ A delicate pause--or no, strike that, Matt's been drinking too much for delicacy. ]
Plus, some of them might even like what's going on.
[ She leaves that bit vague, because she can agree with just about everything he says. Their coworkers being questionable? Absolutely. Them maybe enjoying this too much? Yes! Being enthusiastic?? Doubly yes!! She looks at Matt like it's the first time she's really seen him, and understood him, and it gives her some sense of comfort in all of this. ]
[ Matt returns Lottie's regard with a rueful smile. He can't read everything that's in her expression--or most of it, to be honest, Matt has a bad habit of seeing multiple meanings in everything and gaslighting himself about his own emotional literacy as a result--but he's pleased that he seems to have soothed her. At the (rhetorical, likely) question, he sighs. ]
Whatever the hell normal is, [ he agrees. The throb in his left wrist makes him feel like a fraud. There's probably no definition of normal that includes "ritually sacrificing limbs for spiritual insight." Still, he'd rather try to support Lottie than worry about himself. ] I mean, I do think that some people are mainly ... acting out, and not thinking very clearly. It's hard to avoid getting us-versus-them when the other team is trying to kill you.
But that's just my impression. What are you thinking? [ He sketches a small circle with his glass, indicating just between us. ] Circle of silence.
[ When his finger, careful, delicate, runs over the rim of the glass, their food is gently placed between them. While Lottie can't smell particularly well (chalk it up to the general smell of the place, the mix of different scents and people, and her allergies), but it at least looks appetizing. Enough to get her to gingerly grab a piece of bread, seasoned and toasted perfectly on every slice as she thinks about her answer.
She slides the bowl of soup, warm and thick, a little closer to the two of them, so Matt won't have to struggle as much to reach. ]
That this is a lot different than what Game of Thrones made it out to be?
[ Her other hand reaches out for one of the plates they set out for them, letting her broth soaked bread drip onto it. ]
..Maybe not, actually. [ A purse of her lips. ] I guess I'm thinking that.. Well, not thinking, but realizing that not everyone is like us? Everyone is soo different.
And sometimes I can understand why they do what they do, [ Like Silco, and his murder quest for the Innocence. And Misa.. Well, Lottie doesn't actually know why Misa is so efficient at what she does, but she's pretty! And pretty people always have a good reason to do things. ] and then I think to myself, am I the weird one for not being in on this? Or am I weird for like, sympathizing? But I wanna stay the same. Me. But I can't. But they seem happy sometimes, so why shouldn't I?
[ Matt nods slowly as she speaks. Some of what she's saying is achingly familiar to him, resonating so deeply that it might have come out of his own head. Some of it is harder to parse. But it all makes sense to him. Lottie says "normal" and "like us," and Matt takes it to mean that they come from social contexts where most people are discouraged from ... directly brutalizing other people. Wishing for a better world, enduring nightmarish family dinners, putting on a brave face? Sure. But cheer on a public execution? Bat nary an eye at the prospect of humiliating captured opponents? Who has opponents?
Matt doesn't touch the bread and stew, at least not yet. His fingertip plink, plinks, against the rim of his glass. ]
You're not weird. [ This is soft, but firm. ] What you're feeling ... I mean, I don't know all the ins and outs, clearly, but there's no right or wrong way to process all this. How the fuck could there be? This is totally uncharted. And it's hard. It's really hard, but I think ...
That you're here for a reason. I believe that.
Maybe sympathizing and not feeling happy are pieces that we need as Kenoma. Things we have to hold onto, even while we go where we're going. Or maybe they're things you need to feel now, and that's enough.
[ Moodily, she takes a bite out of her bread. It is unexpectedly.. Delicious? And complements what Matt is making her feel and think as he speaks to her. Because when he tells her she isn't weird, for a few moments she really does believe him (even without the whole Aion thing, Lottie can admit she's always been a little high strung and strange when she's left to operate by herself). Lottie purses her lips, lets the bartender set down some glasses of water off to their side without so much a word.
And then, when she's dabbing at her lips with a napkin, she uses that time to think. It looks like she's considering something before she takes her snack and places it away and onto her plate. As much as she wants to theorize that the Regent is systematically doing this to make them stronger, she's forgotten a very important thing: ]
[ How he's feeling ... the million-jool question. Apart from "miserable," that is, which feels like a symptom rather than a root. Matt thinks of Abel and Himeka. Of Estinien, raising his lance. Of Flora's pale, pinched face as she'd slowly grown quieter and quieter, receding into herself. ]
I feel like a bad person, [ he admits, in a tone of soft surprise. Almost hollow. ] Which probably isn't how a wildfire feels when it's tearing up a forest.
I think the thing for me is I know how to channel power, so whether it's power that comes from my world or straight from the Kenoma, mechanically it feels pretty similar. I just don't know what that ... makes me.
Or if what I am really matters that much, in the grand scheme of things.
[ Misa is by no means ignorant to the two prisoners right in the main halls of the Citadel. Stifling the feelings she has about it, yes.... but pretending it's not there? Not as much. She is (was) somewhat close to the both of them, which is what has simultaneously made their mistreatment at the hands of the Kenoma difficult to swallow - but in turn, also provided her an incentive to severing her bonds with them abruptly.
It's why she's not so surprised to see Lottie standing a distance away, staring at the two of them, as though forcing herself to catalogue each and every whip mark, burn, cut. Misa has taken similar measures, over the last day. But at this point... she's been able to overcome the insatiable feeling of dread she's felt whenever passing by here for the past few days. Or, at least she thinks she has. ]
Hey there, Lottie.
[ She offers, quietly, so as not to startle her - and gently, so as not to shock her out of what she's trying to do. No, Misa just bumps shoulders with her in the crowd, best she can at her small stature, anyway, and looks on to the display herself. ]
It's getting kinda dark out, don't you think...?
[ We should probably get out of here soon, being the message between the lines. When she looks over to her companion, her eyes are a bit knowing, her expression a bit fraught with exhaustion (it's taken a lot of mental gymnastics to get to her state of okayness with this all, after all), but nonetheless still encouraging. ]
[ Lottie has been on the verge of some type of nausea, some type of growing panic, since she planted her feet here. She's a combination of upset, tired, appalled and scared. So scared, and so frustrated. She catalogues every whip mark, burn, and cut, wonders with a gross fascination what it feels like. How much it must hurt for them, how they probably don't even deserve all that's happening to them (but then an invasive part of her brain asks, what if they do deserve this? Lottie's hand twitch in her jacket pocket).
She's about to turn and cry somewhere, the feelings becoming too overwhelming for a public space, when she hears someone beside her (after a small bump of shoulders, that is). When did Misa get so light on her feet? How long has she been here, watching her? A tear manages to slip down her cheek, a sensation of guilt and weakness overcoming her as Misa talks to her gently. Almost like she understands what she's going through, what she's thinking.
She looks down at her, hoping her eyes don't show how upset she is (or how she's been crying on and off for the past hour). How hard would Misa judge her for feeling this type of way? ]
I-I.. [ She stumbles, flinching when she hears a particularly loud thwip hit her ears. ] Yeah, yeah it is.
[ The worst part is, Lottie can hardly think of a proper (out loud) excuse to leave. Whether they like it or not, they're known here in Achamoth - some have been elated to see Lottie stand here and are keen to see what she'll do. What they'll do, ]
Can we..?
[ A pause, as she thinks. And then ends up blurting out something she actually does want. ]
[ When she sees that tear fall from Lottie's eyes, in that moment, she feels a sense of responsibility to remain bright— to provide some sort of stability to the other woman. The Kenoma is in a precarious place, after all, with people falling out of line left and right. She thinks if she doesn't do something, Lottie might be one of the next people to disappear mysteriously for a week or more, and... well, perhaps it's a sense of sentimentality, for the girls just like her that she used to be friends with on Earth, that makes her want to prevent that. ]
You've got it, no problem. I actually know a really good place.
[ She snaps once, tugging on Lottie's sleeve once before linking her arm with hers, giving her a gentle pull in a direction off and away from the display. They can go somewhere far away from here, if that's what she has to do right now. But ultimately, there was no running from the Kenoma, so long as she was in Achamoth's walls. If she could somehow convince her of that... ]
Do you know that guy, Eustace? The one with the dog ears? He showed it to me once.
[ And she can act like an airhead, if she has to, talk of things that are completely unrelated if it's to calm her down before they're out of earshot of the prisoners. It wouldn't do well to ask her what's wrong or are you okay here, anyway. There are soldiers about, watching for how the Kenoma are dealing with this, she's sure. Right now, what's most important, is acting as a fun and supportive friend, and to draw Lottie out of the direct eye of the city's higher ups. ]
[ Going somewhere far away is exactly what Lottie wants, just to be able to clear her head and remember that.. Well, even if what she's looking at is some kind of horrific, it's for a reason, right? She tells herself this as her brows furrow, clearly inside her own head as Misa tugs and guides the two of them away. She follows with no complaint, with completely faith that she'll figure something out - she always does, after all (she's seen how well Misa navigates situations here, how she can take care of herself with no problem, much like how she's taking care of Lottie now).
But the mention of Eustace is definitely not the 'something' she assumed she'd toss her way. Lottie's brows raise, a stray tear slipping down that had been resting at the corner of her eye when she asks in a stupor: ]
..H-he took you to get coffee?
[ She doesn't realize the light change in topic, how no one is especially interested in hearing about the man with the dog ears right now when the crowd is roaring and everyone is here to spectate. Her head tilts down to look at her as they pass by guards, by shop owners and worshippers, in a distant way being reminded of Misty when she looks down at Misa.
Maybe it's because of their similar stature, or the same amount of familiarity and skinship.. Whatever it is, it calms her down. Helps her to wonder if she was some marketing genius like her, too, before their worlds were destroyed.. After all, a pretty people can do anything. ]
Yeah, it was for an errand. Maybe someday, he'll take you on an errand, too. He is pretty cranky though, huh?
[ She laughs, though the sound is a bit sheepish - while it would be nice to mention here that Eustace actually has a tendency to be kind of cute sometimes, she wonders if he'll get mad if she goes around tarnishing his image as a cool, aloof wolfboy. Well, she supposes it'll be easier to just commiserate with Lottie on the subject of him being a stick in the mud, instead, so she merely goes along with it,
Misa is sure to keep their stride quite brisk (as brisk as her short legs can take them, at least) to hurry their travels along, past the highest concentration of Achamite guards and into the camoflauge of the hustle and bustle of the city. Once the pair are out of eye and earshot of the display, Misa looks once over her shoulder before guiding them both onto the sidewalk that'll take them right to the combination bakery and cafรฉ's entrance, keeping her head close to Lottie's arm and speaking in a hushed tone. ]
I don't remember how he heard about it, but it's a nice place, and good for whenever I'm bored of being in the Citadel. [ It's far away, and not an obvious spot, she means, between the lines. As she describes, the bakery on the corner is upscale and classy, with high arched windows and ornate, gothic decorations inside. There are glass cases filled with all kinds of pastries and sweets, ranging from the common to the very fancy - with chalk written menus of specialty drinks along with. ] We can totally sit there for a while. There's always tables!
[ The implication being that it'll be a safe haven for as long as Lottie needs in the moment. Her words, while framed as any normal girl telling a friend about a hidden gem of a cafรฉ that has everything one could ever want (free seating, nice dรฉcor), they're carefully placed to try to give Lottie peace of mind, without so much as announcing her distress to anyone who may overhear. Once they're behind walls, and are only in the presence of Achamites who are busy with work and not prone to eavesdropping, she knows it'll be safer for them to talk in clearer terms. ]
[ She takes a wide look at the cafe they walk into and.. In a weird way, she can see why Eustace would come here. Nondescript, no one is fawning over them being Aions, and more importantly: Misa's carefully, considerately, crafted offer to snag a spot just for them. Lottie tries not to look down at Misa, because she knows there's a reason why she's speaking so softly. Everyone is listening, even in a gorgeous place like this, and who knows what they might say.
At least, this, paranoia is something she can live with (gossip). Not the paranoia of constantly battling with her morals and random people probably plotting to kill them all.
Lottie leans her head ever so slightly towards Misa's, strands of green brushing against the very top of her head. She's considerably less stiff beside her, knowing that she's doing her more than a favor by taking her hear after her display at the Citadel. Because that's what friends are for, right? She tries to smile, to play it overtly 'cool' here before they disappear, and pipes up: ]
Y-yeah.. Let's grab a table and some tea!
[ Her enthusiasm dies down the tiniest bit, though, when she brings a hand to touch her cheek. She feels the remnants of her tears drying along them, the bare touch of wet along her fingertips, and she whispers to her. ]
I don't look that bad, do I?
[ In other words, if she goes up to order for them, will it cause a social stir? Questions?! ]
[ Misa spares a glance up towards Lottie herself, gauging for herself the state of the other woman. The tear stains on her face certainly aren't doing her any favors— especially not when the news about the prisoners is so abuzz about the city. Misa waves a hand, keeping close. ]
Well, er— it'll be fine![ She neither confirms nor denies whether Lottie looks "that" bad - which, in turn, basically implies that she does look some degree of bad. ] If anyone asks anything, we'll just say it's boy troubles, or something else.
[ Why try to cover up something so obvious? The easiest way to go undetected is to lie in plain sight, of course. And who would suspect two pretty, young women of anything as nefarious as being conflicted over the sight over their sworn enemies being admonished in public? Misa pulls them both along to the counter - the worker there seems to recognize Misa, from the way she frequents the area. And with both their shards hidden, they're just two regular citizens of Achamoth. Misa chatters happily with the attendant to draw attention away, and once the two of them have ordered their teas, they're informed it'll be brought to their table in a matter of minutes. And more importantly, when they're at the (relative) privacy of their table, Misa's able to return to the matter at hand. ]
See? We'll be fine here. [ As Misa settles in, her eyes glance out the window. ] Until you're ready to head back.
[ Because the same sight will be waiting for them, she wouldn't deny that. But she could accept that it takes time to getting used to - time they have the opportunity to take. ]
[ the pain of knowing she would do the same thing so the fact this is happening to her is even worse ]
Yeah.. Boy troubles..
[ Lottie has to hold back the eesh that she wants to let loose at fully knowing she's looking less optimal right now, but Misa's quick thinking makes her a little less stressed about it (all considering she has been basically sidelining some public torture for an hour). She follows her lead to the counter and is simultaneously amazed at how easy Misa makes socializing in distress look, all the while making Lottie seem like a natural fixture beside her.. Even in this state.
They take a seat at their table, and she looks at Misa beneath wet lashes, twiddling her thumbs on her lap beneath the table. ]
I don't think I'll be ready for a while.. I need to just, [ She can't stop herself from following her companions trail of sight, joining in after a moment. ] pretend like this is the reason I'm out tonight. Doing something fun instead of..
[ It's a dreary afternoon, the skies outside the windows gray and the glass painted with thin cobwebs of rainwater. The halls of the Citadel are fairly quiet though -- which must make it all the more jarring when Lottie, no doubt just minding her own business, is alerted to the very heavy thump of a body being carelessly dropped to the floor. A quick peek around the corner is all it'll take for her to spot a certain, lanky redhead straightening up from where he's deposited a sodden, crumpled form on the carpeted floor and sauntering off casually, like he was just dropping off some drycleaning at the laundromat. Completing a totally normal errand, nothing more!
Unfortunately(?) for Lottie, she might have to venture a little closer to recognize that body on the floor for who it is.
Near thirty minutes left outside in the drizzling rain have left Gen damp and bedraggled, and that's on top of the shitty condition he was already in. Face pale, far-too-long hair left tangled over his face and shocked through with a pair of white streaks, eyes lined with dark shadows, left sleeve conspicuously empty below the shoulder. He really looks like he's been put through the wringer, and is thus looking peak not-cute at the moment. And while the weather outside is warm enough that a little time spent out in the rain isn't going to kill him ... when Lottie steps closer, Gen, still mostly unconscious, stifles a hoarse groan and sneezes right onto Lottie's shoes. Shivering slightly in his damp clothes as he reflexively tries to curl up away from the cold.
Maybe that's, like, rude enough that Lottie is tempted to just walk away?
Or maybe she remembers just enough of Gen (deep in the throes of his hallucinations) helping her in Venera so many weeks back that she decides to stick around and lend a hand. And it's not like she has to do all the work herself -- there's the faint sounds of movement coming from within Gen's room, right behind where Gen's been deposited on the floor. ]
[ I hate him, Lottie thinks bitterly to herself after seeing Gen get left in front of his door like a soggy wet newspaper. Of course, she doesn't do anything straight away, in fact she waits a few moments until she's sure of the fact Childe is gone and it's just the sounds of Gen's barely there breath intermingled with her own. She approaches hesitantly, wondering if she's stumbled onto some kind of crime scene (he's breathing but, who knows! Maybe he's dying or something?!) when she comes close enough to really see the damage.
But then he sneezes on her slippers, and Lottie frowns in exhaustion.
Nope! Not dying. Still alive and still just as gross as she remembers.
She's in her own natural state of gross โ tissues stuffed up her nostril to make sure no snot drips as she exists, eye glasses she's had made to help with her vision. Her face is pale and splotchy, red around the eyes and especially around her nose. There's a labored breath as she bends down, eyes glancing up to his door as she tries to decide what to do first. It's not like she's really locked out of his room, but he might be sick being this drenched.. First thing's first, she gently moves the hair covering his face (the white is new? When did he do that?), and places her palm flat on his forehead โ does he have a fever?
And then, with the other hand, she gives a little pat pat to Gen's cheek โ is he alive enough to spill the tea?? ]
[ Good news for Lottie: no fever! In fact, Gen's skin is a little cool to touch from being left out in the rain without cover.
Less-good news for Lottie: Gen doesn't wake easily.
That little pat-pat to the cheek earns no reaction at first save the slightest furrow of the brow and a hoarse exhale. It takes another two, three (perhaps slightly firmer) jostles before his eyes finally flutter open as he gives a bleary groan. -- and then Gen immediately squeezes them shut once more, groaning louder as he tries to avert his gaze from the lighting in the hallway. ]
-- the fuck ...
[ Unclear whether that sentence was supposed to start with 'where' or 'what' or 'how,' especially with how hoarse Gen's voice emerges. At least he seems well enough to slap his hand to his face, wearily pressing his knuckles into the arch of his eyesockets to try and quell the tremendous headache rattling around in his skull. -- where the hell even is this. The last thing he remembers is being out on the training fields, sparring with Childe. And he'd knocked the guy down. And then ... ? ]
... I think he fucking tazed me? [ At least, it'd track with how much every muscle in his body aches. Not that he has any experience with getting tazed, but it definitely feels like his brain is still on the fritz, his muscles sore from tensing and releasing so abruptly. And with that bleary guess made, Gen pulls his hand away from his face just enough to finally give Lottie a confused glance. Taking in the state of her for a moment before he rasps, ] Did he do something to you, too?
[ Why else would she be looking like such a mess? ]
[ She's going to tell him later whenever she's sure he isn't about to scream or unveil some secret traumatic injuries. For now, she pulls her hands away from his face, completely ignoring the way he stares at her and how the way she's dressed is probably not what he's used to (this is generous). She shimmies herself out of her jacket, bundling it up and gently placing it beneath his head. There's a moment where she takes a stray sleeve and debates on putting it on top of his eyes - and it's after a long stare down at poor Gen that she lets it quietly flop on top of those eyes, successfully shielding him from the candles of the hallway.
And, also, from Lottie straightening out her equally worn out pajama shirt and how she digs into her pockets for his key. ]
Why did he even taze you? [ There's the shuffle of her moving to stand, and then the sound of her shoving the key inside the lock. ] ..Why does he even know where you live??
Actually, Lottie's right. It's not important right now, he'll deal with it later.
His head's still killing him, a persistent, sharp pain throbbing somewhere right behind his eyeballs, and it's mostly why he ends up quietly letting Lottie cushion his head with her jacket instead of griping that he isn't an invalid. That jacket sleeve at his eyes, too, helps tremendously -- as she's turning away Lottie might hear him breathe a hoarse sigh of relief.
Totally oblivious to the fact that she might have access to his room. ]
How would I know ... [ A muffled groan as he makes the mistake of trying to shift positions and is punished for it with incredible muscle aches. ] He suddenly picked a fight with me when I was training -- wanted a sparring match. And I landed a good hit when he pulled that shit. ... cheap bastard.
[ Clearly, Gen's more annoyed by the indignity of getting tazed by a felled opponent than by the fact he's been tazed at all.
On her end, Lottie might be relieved to feel the key enter the lock and start to turn without issue. But the moment the lock clicks open, the door suddenly swings inward without warning, and Lottie might find herself face to face with a young man dressed in the uniform that most of the Citadel's servants wear. Gen's retainer, his face lit up with anticipation and worry as he blurts out, "Sir Minegishi! I was wondering wh --"
Only then blinking wide-eyed at the sight of Lottie.
[ Why the heck would he want to fight Gen? Sure, he's a punky kid but.. It's not something to beat him over. Especially if they're all on the same side, what does it matter?!
Lottie frowns deeply, pondering this over when his retainer swings the door open and almost pulls her with it. She nearly falls over and into the servant, which scares the shit out of her because personal contact much? She takes a giant step back, accidentally putting some of her weight onto Gen's chest in the process before remembering he's there and adjusting her stance to make sure he's not trampled.
She stares at him, throws a hand on her chest to calm her heart and her breathing. And then when she gets past her surprise, she hurriedly demands: ]
Help me lug him in!
[ Fuck. She should've put some real shoes on before inserting herself into the situation -- or, maybe lifted some weights. How heavy can he be? She's going to find out! After some aggressive gesturing, she ends up by his legs and fully expects his retainer to be at his arms. She gets into a deep squat, groaning because she cracks a knee or two.
Her hands awkwardly splay on top of his leg, wondering where the hell to grab him. His feet? Jesus. She ends up holding onto ankles, her grip a little unsure. ]
Be careful with his head, he got into a fight with somebody. [ And softer: ] Okay, so, I'm gonna grab your legs and.. Your intern is going to get your arms?
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๐ธ๐น๐ฎ๐ท ๐งผ hard times
๐๐. ๐ซ๐๐๐ฅ ๐๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ญ๐ ๐
๐๐. ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฅ๐๐๐๐ซ๐ ๐
[ or feel free to hit me up with whatever!! ]
01
Drinking it is.
Matt's got a purple scarf on, flecked with gold that he's been told brings out his eyes, to hide his shard. No mask today. He's as surprised to recognize Lottie as she is to recognize him, and embarrassment follows a moment after: He couldn't have been that deep in a self-pitying spiral, could he? ]
If you're sure. [ Matt shoots her a sheepish smile. He pauses to make sure the stump of his left hand is hidden at his side, then reaches for the glass with his right. ] Hey Lottie. Can I buy you something else instead? Trade?
no subject
Do they have nachos here or something?
[ She doesn't say anything about that pause of his, too busy fiddling with the rings adorning her fingers. She twists them every so often, staring down at the way they glimmer in the light. Her voice is considerably light, but just loud enough for Matt to be able to catch - ]
Or, any finger foods, really.. [ She wiggles her fingers to herself, not really realizing she's doing it as she speaks. ] We can share? If that's cool with you.
no subject
To be fair, life back on Earth wasn't all that much better. Matt has trouble remembering what it felt like to expect different than what the world is now: slowly circling a cosmic drain. ]
Sharing sounds great. [ He smiles faintly. ] I don't know if I'm hungry enough to eat a whole thing right now.
[ He lifts his right hand to hail a server, wincing slightly as the gesture clangs in his stump. It turns out that they do have something like nachos here, though it's more of a bread you can dip in stew. Matt figures #countit. The server departs, and Matt glances back to Lottie. ]
So, uh ... is it stupid if I ask how you're doing?
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[ Troubled minds think alike, as it turns out, and it makes Lottie feel a lot less silly about coming here to Broodโข at this shady bar. And it certainly makes her feel a little more.. Well, normal, to see Matt question just how much they should pretend they both didn't just go through something terrible. ]
I'm.. [ She looks at her hand, the one that regrew itself. Her nails are a pretty hue of blue, flecks of black just as dark as the cobble that lines the streets sparkling when she tilts her hand just so. Lottie uses that same hand to rub at her face. ] God, I don't even know if I can lie about how I am.
[ She sighs out, big and dramatic, digging her elbows into the bar top so she can cradle her head in her hands. ]
Lottie Person goes to bars now to be moody by herself, instead of at home, apparently!
no subject
Well, what's better about being at home? [ He lifts Lottie's erstwhile cocktail and takes a sip. ] No offense to our coworkers, but I don't know if being comforting is exactly their bag.
[ A delicate pause--or no, strike that, Matt's been drinking too much for delicacy. ]
Plus, some of them might even like what's going on.
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Ugh.. Understatement of the year.
[ She leaves that bit vague, because she can agree with just about everything he says. Their coworkers being questionable? Absolutely. Them maybe enjoying this too much? Yes! Being enthusiastic?? Doubly yes!! She looks at Matt like it's the first time she's really seen him, and understood him, and it gives her some sense of comfort in all of this. ]
Are we the only normal people left?
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Whatever the hell normal is, [ he agrees. The throb in his left wrist makes him feel like a fraud. There's probably no definition of normal that includes "ritually sacrificing limbs for spiritual insight." Still, he'd rather try to support Lottie than worry about himself. ] I mean, I do think that some people are mainly ... acting out, and not thinking very clearly. It's hard to avoid getting us-versus-them when the other team is trying to kill you.
But that's just my impression. What are you thinking? [ He sketches a small circle with his glass, indicating just between us. ] Circle of silence.
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She slides the bowl of soup, warm and thick, a little closer to the two of them, so Matt won't have to struggle as much to reach. ]
That this is a lot different than what Game of Thrones made it out to be?
[ Her other hand reaches out for one of the plates they set out for them, letting her broth soaked bread drip onto it. ]
..Maybe not, actually. [ A purse of her lips. ] I guess I'm thinking that.. Well, not thinking, but realizing that not everyone is like us? Everyone is soo different.
And sometimes I can understand why they do what they do, [ Like Silco, and his murder quest for the Innocence. And Misa.. Well, Lottie doesn't actually know why Misa is so efficient at what she does, but she's pretty! And pretty people always have a good reason to do things. ] and then I think to myself, am I the weird one for not being in on this? Or am I weird for like, sympathizing? But I wanna stay the same. Me. But I can't. But they seem happy sometimes, so why shouldn't I?
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Matt doesn't touch the bread and stew, at least not yet. His fingertip plink, plinks, against the rim of his glass. ]
You're not weird. [ This is soft, but firm. ] What you're feeling ... I mean, I don't know all the ins and outs, clearly, but there's no right or wrong way to process all this. How the fuck could there be? This is totally uncharted. And it's hard. It's really hard, but I think ...
That you're here for a reason. I believe that.
Maybe sympathizing and not feeling happy are pieces that we need as Kenoma. Things we have to hold onto, even while we go where we're going. Or maybe they're things you need to feel now, and that's enough.
no subject
And then, when she's dabbing at her lips with a napkin, she uses that time to think. It looks like she's considering something before she takes her snack and places it away and onto her plate. As much as she wants to theorize that the Regent is systematically doing this to make them stronger, she's forgotten a very important thing: ]
How are you feeling? The same way or..?
no subject
I feel like a bad person, [ he admits, in a tone of soft surprise. Almost hollow. ] Which probably isn't how a wildfire feels when it's tearing up a forest.
I think the thing for me is I know how to channel power, so whether it's power that comes from my world or straight from the Kenoma, mechanically it feels pretty similar. I just don't know what that ... makes me.
Or if what I am really matters that much, in the grand scheme of things.
wildcard ๐ณ
It's why she's not so surprised to see Lottie standing a distance away, staring at the two of them, as though forcing herself to catalogue each and every whip mark, burn, cut. Misa has taken similar measures, over the last day. But at this point... she's been able to overcome the insatiable feeling of dread she's felt whenever passing by here for the past few days. Or, at least she thinks she has. ]
Hey there, Lottie.
[ She offers, quietly, so as not to startle her - and gently, so as not to shock her out of what she's trying to do. No, Misa just bumps shoulders with her in the crowd, best she can at her small stature, anyway, and looks on to the display herself. ]
It's getting kinda dark out, don't you think...?
[ We should probably get out of here soon, being the message between the lines. When she looks over to her companion, her eyes are a bit knowing, her expression a bit fraught with exhaustion (it's taken a lot of mental gymnastics to get to her state of okayness with this all, after all), but nonetheless still encouraging. ]
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She's about to turn and cry somewhere, the feelings becoming too overwhelming for a public space, when she hears someone beside her (after a small bump of shoulders, that is). When did Misa get so light on her feet? How long has she been here, watching her? A tear manages to slip down her cheek, a sensation of guilt and weakness overcoming her as Misa talks to her gently. Almost like she understands what she's going through, what she's thinking.
She looks down at her, hoping her eyes don't show how upset she is (or how she's been crying on and off for the past hour). How hard would Misa judge her for feeling this type of way? ]
I-I.. [ She stumbles, flinching when she hears a particularly loud thwip hit her ears. ] Yeah, yeah it is.
[ The worst part is, Lottie can hardly think of a proper (out loud) excuse to leave. Whether they like it or not, they're known here in Achamoth - some have been elated to see Lottie stand here and are keen to see what she'll do. What they'll do, ]
Can we..?
[ A pause, as she thinks. And then ends up blurting out something she actually does want. ]
Coffee?
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You've got it, no problem. I actually know a really good place.
[ She snaps once, tugging on Lottie's sleeve once before linking her arm with hers, giving her a gentle pull in a direction off and away from the display. They can go somewhere far away from here, if that's what she has to do right now. But ultimately, there was no running from the Kenoma, so long as she was in Achamoth's walls. If she could somehow convince her of that... ]
Do you know that guy, Eustace? The one with the dog ears? He showed it to me once.
[ And she can act like an airhead, if she has to, talk of things that are completely unrelated if it's to calm her down before they're out of earshot of the prisoners. It wouldn't do well to ask her what's wrong or are you okay here, anyway. There are soldiers about, watching for how the Kenoma are dealing with this, she's sure. Right now, what's most important, is acting as a fun and supportive friend, and to draw Lottie out of the direct eye of the city's higher ups. ]
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But the mention of Eustace is definitely not the 'something' she assumed she'd toss her way. Lottie's brows raise, a stray tear slipping down that had been resting at the corner of her eye when she asks in a stupor: ]
..H-he took you to get coffee?
[ She doesn't realize the light change in topic, how no one is especially interested in hearing about the man with the dog ears right now when the crowd is roaring and everyone is here to spectate. Her head tilts down to look at her as they pass by guards, by shop owners and worshippers, in a distant way being reminded of Misty when she looks down at Misa.
Maybe it's because of their similar stature, or the same amount of familiarity and skinship.. Whatever it is, it calms her down. Helps her to wonder if she was some marketing genius like her, too, before their worlds were destroyed.. After all, a pretty people can do anything. ]
I'm surprised.. He's such a stick in the mud!
no subject
[ She laughs, though the sound is a bit sheepish - while it would be nice to mention here that Eustace actually has a tendency to be kind of cute sometimes, she wonders if he'll get mad if she goes around tarnishing his image as a cool, aloof wolfboy. Well, she supposes it'll be easier to just commiserate with Lottie on the subject of him being a stick in the mud, instead, so she merely goes along with it,
Misa is sure to keep their stride quite brisk (as brisk as her short legs can take them, at least) to hurry their travels along, past the highest concentration of Achamite guards and into the camoflauge of the hustle and bustle of the city. Once the pair are out of eye and earshot of the display, Misa looks once over her shoulder before guiding them both onto the sidewalk that'll take them right to the combination bakery and cafรฉ's entrance, keeping her head close to Lottie's arm and speaking in a hushed tone. ]
I don't remember how he heard about it, but it's a nice place, and good for whenever I'm bored of being in the Citadel. [ It's far away, and not an obvious spot, she means, between the lines. As she describes, the bakery on the corner is upscale and classy, with high arched windows and ornate, gothic decorations inside. There are glass cases filled with all kinds of pastries and sweets, ranging from the common to the very fancy - with chalk written menus of specialty drinks along with. ] We can totally sit there for a while. There's always tables!
[ The implication being that it'll be a safe haven for as long as Lottie needs in the moment. Her words, while framed as any normal girl telling a friend about a hidden gem of a cafรฉ that has everything one could ever want (free seating, nice dรฉcor), they're carefully placed to try to give Lottie peace of mind, without so much as announcing her distress to anyone who may overhear. Once they're behind walls, and are only in the presence of Achamites who are busy with work and not prone to eavesdropping, she knows it'll be safer for them to talk in clearer terms. ]
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At least, this, paranoia is something she can live with (gossip). Not the paranoia of constantly battling with her morals and random people probably plotting to kill them all.
Lottie leans her head ever so slightly towards Misa's, strands of green brushing against the very top of her head. She's considerably less stiff beside her, knowing that she's doing her more than a favor by taking her hear after her display at the Citadel. Because that's what friends are for, right? She tries to smile, to play it overtly 'cool' here before they disappear, and pipes up: ]
Y-yeah.. Let's grab a table and some tea!
[ Her enthusiasm dies down the tiniest bit, though, when she brings a hand to touch her cheek. She feels the remnants of her tears drying along them, the bare touch of wet along her fingertips, and she whispers to her. ]
I don't look that bad, do I?
[ In other words, if she goes up to order for them, will it cause a social stir? Questions?! ]
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Well, er— it'll be fine![ She neither confirms nor denies whether Lottie looks "that" bad - which, in turn, basically implies that she does look some degree of bad. ] If anyone asks anything, we'll just say it's boy troubles, or something else.
[ Why try to cover up something so obvious? The easiest way to go undetected is to lie in plain sight, of course. And who would suspect two pretty, young women of anything as nefarious as being conflicted over the sight over their sworn enemies being admonished in public? Misa pulls them both along to the counter - the worker there seems to recognize Misa, from the way she frequents the area. And with both their shards hidden, they're just two regular citizens of Achamoth. Misa chatters happily with the attendant to draw attention away, and once the two of them have ordered their teas, they're informed it'll be brought to their table in a matter of minutes. And more importantly, when they're at the (relative) privacy of their table, Misa's able to return to the matter at hand. ]
See? We'll be fine here. [ As Misa settles in, her eyes glance out the window. ] Until you're ready to head back.
[ Because the same sight will be waiting for them, she wouldn't deny that. But she could accept that it takes time to getting used to - time they have the opportunity to take. ]
no subject
Yeah.. Boy troubles..
[ Lottie has to hold back the eesh that she wants to let loose at fully knowing she's looking less optimal right now, but Misa's quick thinking makes her a little less stressed about it (all considering she has been basically sidelining some public torture for an hour). She follows her lead to the counter and is simultaneously amazed at how easy Misa makes socializing in distress look, all the while making Lottie seem like a natural fixture beside her.. Even in this state.
They take a seat at their table, and she looks at Misa beneath wet lashes, twiddling her thumbs on her lap beneath the table. ]
I don't think I'll be ready for a while.. I need to just, [ She can't stop herself from following her companions trail of sight, joining in after a moment. ] pretend like this is the reason I'm out tonight. Doing something fun instead of..
wildcard!
Unfortunately(?) for Lottie, she might have to venture a little closer to recognize that body on the floor for who it is.
Near thirty minutes left outside in the drizzling rain have left Gen damp and bedraggled, and that's on top of the shitty condition he was already in. Face pale, far-too-long hair left tangled over his face and shocked through with a pair of white streaks, eyes lined with dark shadows, left sleeve conspicuously empty below the shoulder. He really looks like he's been put through the wringer, and is thus looking peak not-cute at the moment. And while the weather outside is warm enough that a little time spent out in the rain isn't going to kill him ... when Lottie steps closer, Gen, still mostly unconscious, stifles a hoarse groan and sneezes right onto Lottie's shoes. Shivering slightly in his damp clothes as he reflexively tries to curl up away from the cold.
Maybe that's, like, rude enough that Lottie is tempted to just walk away?
Or maybe she remembers just enough of Gen (deep in the throes of his hallucinations) helping her in Venera so many weeks back that she decides to stick around and lend a hand. And it's not like she has to do all the work herself -- there's the faint sounds of movement coming from within Gen's room, right behind where Gen's been deposited on the floor. ]
no subject
Seriously, the fucking worst!
[ I hate him, Lottie thinks bitterly to herself after seeing Gen get left in front of his door like a soggy wet newspaper. Of course, she doesn't do anything straight away, in fact she waits a few moments until she's sure of the fact Childe is gone and it's just the sounds of Gen's barely there breath intermingled with her own. She approaches hesitantly, wondering if she's stumbled onto some kind of crime scene (he's breathing but, who knows! Maybe he's dying or something?!) when she comes close enough to really see the damage.
But then he sneezes on her slippers, and Lottie frowns in exhaustion.
Nope! Not dying. Still alive and still just as gross as she remembers.
She's in her own natural state of gross โ tissues stuffed up her nostril to make sure no snot drips as she exists, eye glasses she's had made to help with her vision. Her face is pale and splotchy, red around the eyes and especially around her nose. There's a labored breath as she bends down, eyes glancing up to his door as she tries to decide what to do first. It's not like she's really locked out of his room, but he might be sick being this drenched.. First thing's first, she gently moves the hair covering his face (the white is new? When did he do that?), and places her palm flat on his forehead โ does he have a fever?
And then, with the other hand, she gives a little pat pat to Gen's cheek โ is he alive enough to spill the tea?? ]
Hey! C'mon.. Did that guy beat you up?
no subject
Less-good news for Lottie: Gen doesn't wake easily.
That little pat-pat to the cheek earns no reaction at first save the slightest furrow of the brow and a hoarse exhale. It takes another two, three (perhaps slightly firmer) jostles before his eyes finally flutter open as he gives a bleary groan. -- and then Gen immediately squeezes them shut once more, groaning louder as he tries to avert his gaze from the lighting in the hallway. ]
-- the fuck ...
[ Unclear whether that sentence was supposed to start with 'where' or 'what' or 'how,' especially with how hoarse Gen's voice emerges. At least he seems well enough to slap his hand to his face, wearily pressing his knuckles into the arch of his eyesockets to try and quell the tremendous headache rattling around in his skull. -- where the hell even is this. The last thing he remembers is being out on the training fields, sparring with Childe. And he'd knocked the guy down. And then ... ? ]
... I think he fucking tazed me? [ At least, it'd track with how much every muscle in his body aches. Not that he has any experience with getting tazed, but it definitely feels like his brain is still on the fritz, his muscles sore from tensing and releasing so abruptly. And with that bleary guess made, Gen pulls his hand away from his face just enough to finally give Lottie a confused glance. Taking in the state of her for a moment before he rasps, ] Did he do something to you, too?
[ Why else would she be looking like such a mess? ]
no subject
Yes!
[ And then reluctantly: ]
No.. Ugh, it's not important.
[ She's going to tell him later whenever she's sure he isn't about to scream or unveil some secret traumatic injuries. For now, she pulls her hands away from his face, completely ignoring the way he stares at her and how the way she's dressed is probably not what he's used to (this is generous). She shimmies herself out of her jacket, bundling it up and gently placing it beneath his head. There's a moment where she takes a stray sleeve and debates on putting it on top of his eyes - and it's after a long stare down at poor Gen that she lets it quietly flop on top of those eyes, successfully shielding him from the candles of the hallway.
And, also, from Lottie straightening out her equally worn out pajama shirt and how she digs into her pockets for his key. ]
Why did he even taze you? [ There's the shuffle of her moving to stand, and then the sound of her shoving the key inside the lock. ] ..Why does he even know where you live??
no subject
Actually, Lottie's right. It's not important right now, he'll deal with it later.
His head's still killing him, a persistent, sharp pain throbbing somewhere right behind his eyeballs, and it's mostly why he ends up quietly letting Lottie cushion his head with her jacket instead of griping that he isn't an invalid. That jacket sleeve at his eyes, too, helps tremendously -- as she's turning away Lottie might hear him breathe a hoarse sigh of relief.
Totally oblivious to the fact that she might have access to his room. ]
How would I know ... [ A muffled groan as he makes the mistake of trying to shift positions and is punished for it with incredible muscle aches. ] He suddenly picked a fight with me when I was training -- wanted a sparring match. And I landed a good hit when he pulled that shit. ... cheap bastard.
[ Clearly, Gen's more annoyed by the indignity of getting tazed by a felled opponent than by the fact he's been tazed at all.
On her end, Lottie might be relieved to feel the key enter the lock and start to turn without issue. But the moment the lock clicks open, the door suddenly swings inward without warning, and Lottie might find herself face to face with a young man dressed in the uniform that most of the Citadel's servants wear. Gen's retainer, his face lit up with anticipation and worry as he blurts out, "Sir Minegishi! I was wondering wh --"
Only then blinking wide-eyed at the sight of Lottie.
"... excuse me, who ... ?" ]
no subject
Lottie frowns deeply, pondering this over when his retainer swings the door open and almost pulls her with it. She nearly falls over and into the servant, which scares the shit out of her because personal contact much? She takes a giant step back, accidentally putting some of her weight onto Gen's chest in the process before remembering he's there and adjusting her stance to make sure he's not trampled.
She stares at him, throws a hand on her chest to calm her heart and her breathing. And then when she gets past her surprise, she hurriedly demands: ]
Help me lug him in!
[ Fuck. She should've put some real shoes on before inserting herself into the situation -- or, maybe lifted some weights. How heavy can he be? She's going to find out! After some aggressive gesturing, she ends up by his legs and fully expects his retainer to be at his arms. She gets into a deep squat, groaning because she cracks a knee or two.
Her hands awkwardly splay on top of his leg, wondering where the hell to grab him. His feet? Jesus. She ends up holding onto ankles, her grip a little unsure. ]
Be careful with his head, he got into a fight with somebody. [ And softer: ] Okay, so, I'm gonna grab your legs and.. Your intern is going to get your arms?