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thefoundation2020-05-30 08:04 pm
foundationmods) wrote in thefoundation2020-05-30 08:04 pm
Entry tags:
Resume Play
After the collapse of the Winchester house, everyone will have some time to regroup. The dead can be given bodies, everyone can have the remnants of the miasma washed away, and the 2000's group can be brought up to date on what's been happening for the last twenty years. It's been a long day, and taking time to process it all is probably in everyone's best interests.
But they won't get to rest for long. About an hour after the house's collapse, several all-black vehicles will roll up on the site of the former Winchester house. Most people present should recognize the uniforms and logos plastered all over everything: this is a cleanup team, the kind sent in after a successful containment to make sure the locals don't talk about what happened. It must be nice to have a somewhat-positive reception for once, huh?
But along with the group, a certain misty-eyes O5 will make their grand entrance. And as they step out and look over the group, they have something important to say.
"You did it. I...thank you. Thank you for saving them."
There's still details to handle and paperwork and interviews to do, but that is easy compared to what's already been done. With everyone's efforts, a potential XK-class SCP has been neutralized, saving the world itself, all without any permanent Agent casualties.
You all have exceeded Foundation expectations.
Congratulations.
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If you were to ask our former comrades, we likely share that too. Not the butterfly bit, of course. [ A touch silly and blithe, and a chance to take a breath and drink. He doesn't drain his cup, but it's close. ]
Sometimes, I wonder myself. [ A melodic hum that's not quite sing song, all too soft. He finishes his drink and sets the cup down, taking notice that the edges of the world have begun to blur like their colors. There's something funny in that, and he almost laughs. Almost, because there's still some room left to smile almost carefree. ]
Do you want to find out?
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[There's something mischievous mixed in with that, momentary but bright, because as muddy as all the moments of miasma were some were still too colorful to miss, and forward, forward they go until the scenery itself begins to fade.
It's hard to tell if there had been a line there or a true gap -- something unbridgeable or simply a bridge held up by hand or memories or the facsimile of memories. But as they say: time heals all ills, and they've already both figured out how to stretch their wings even without any room to maneuver.
In this case there's so much spread out before him (a feast? a mirage?) that Subete pauses for just a split second, maybe to think things over, maybe just to face the music and the aroma of sake all melted together. It's a shorter moment than even he thought possible, for all that he's used to decisions (impulses) like these. There are a thousand and one unanswered questions and unfinished thoughts and broken endings, about as many directions where the ground no longer exists underneath his feet, but:]
I intend to find out. [his gaze is sharp and flashing for that fleeting second, softened only slightly by drink, and he folds his hands and leans forward himself] You can't be the only one getting a show, Hikage.
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It's a moment made longer still by the sake and the weight of that challenge. ]
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That would be selfish of me. But I'm still a cheater, Subete. [ All this time and there's some things he's learned, he doesn't need to see that sharp gaze if he can hear it just fine. A curved smile follows, and only then does he look back to regard his company and the colors: green, purple, and red.
It's fleeting because without another thought (or perhaps any thought at all), he leans forward even more and completes the step, pressing forward into a kiss. ]
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But for the moment he just drinks it in the way he has everything, with a trace of hushed delight in the midst of the pause, vaguely wondering in the midst of currents of sake and slow-flowing tension between them how much more he can push--]
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This time, though, everything is so much more noisy and so much less at the same time: in the tide of a million and one things clashing and sparking in his head he lets himself get washed away instead in the cloud of warmth and contact, lets the rest of it go in a quick involuntary breath, ah, before leaning in in return.
Gamely, a little inexpertly somehow (maybe it can be blamed on the hour and the occasion and the drink or anything else), he meets Hikage in the middle.]
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I think...that counts as a show, even if I didn't use my hands. Yet. [ The most satisfied smile that belies the light pink dusting on his cheeks. He attempts to resettle a little and takes a sip of water that was previously untouched, but really he's just doing his own play at hide and seek. ]
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There's a brief waver when Hikage moves back, somewhere between indecision and simple lack of balance, but ultimately Subete manages to pull himself back on his elbows as well. There he stalls for a second, and at this angle it's easy to see that he's brightly flushed up to his ears, lighter complexion doing him no favors here.
It actually gets worse once words come into it, and he fidgets with the sake cup.]
That's-- [whether it's a lack of breath or a lack of composure he's forced to clear his throat when his voice cracks a little; Hikage gets away with his hide and seek because Subete is too busy downing the rest of his sake] That's cheating and a show. Figures you'd somehow combine them...
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I told you, and you seemed to like it anyway. [ A small laugh that almost makes him spill his water, but it would have been worth it even if he did. He sets it down though and carefully refills both their cups, blinking at the now empty bottle. Quietly after, he adds: ]
But so did I.
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And just now not even that: there's a small huff as the words and Hikage's sly expression hit him at once and he probably would have gone even redder if the sake and the situation hadn't already conspired to max out that particular stat.]
Well, yes, I-- [it's probably a measure of just how flustered he is that he doesn't even try to dodge, or maybe the actual dodge is the fact that the waitress appears with precision perfect timing to spirit away the sake bottle; there's a hasty nod for a replacement as Subete schools his features slightly, apparently forgetting the lack of need to actually put on any appearances in this space and under these conditions of his own making] ... We'll be ordering entrees next, I imagine.
[It's debatable who he's even speaking to, but maybe it makes everyone feel better to actually talk to the waitress regardless of her state of slightly uncanny compliance. A breath where he picks up the sake cup again in both hands and regards Hikage across it with some color still left in his face. His voice is a little lighter, smoothing out.]
It was pretty compelling, though. For an improvisation.
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It's getting harder and harder to differentiate between his thoughts and impulses, but he can control his smile by folding it into his hand as he soaks in all the still visible colors. If only his eyes and tone didn't say enough already. A quirk of his head at the waitress and the new order, followed by a huff. Well then.
He'll wait to comment until the appetizers have been cleared away (hm there's more free space on the table now), straightening up and sipping at his sake until the waitress is out of earshot.]
The last time we drank like this, a roomba wound up involved... [ He runs a finger over the rim of the sake cup. ] I'd pass on that repeat, but I wouldn't mind dragging you to bed instead of Date.
[ A slight pause as the waitress returns with menus and a new bottle. ]
Ah and that just means I need to show you what I really can do. It's a date, then—not tonight of course, but I'll keep going with that "improvisation" tonight too.
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[... It's at this point that Subete plain gives up and just puts a hand over his face, though it's not particularly effective given the renewed flush there is easily visible through his fingers and he's well on his way back to scarlet again. He probably should just resign himself to color-coordinating with Hikage's sense of fashion between the guy's motormouth and the flow of sake at this rate, but there's a certain stubborn echo in his mumble.]
I'll pass on that too. Honestly don't know if I want to know what you're talking about.
[It's a weak enough protest given that his tone seems caught somewhere between laughing and grumbling, but that's what you get for bringing up Date and beds in the same sentence at this point in time; whether or not Hikage was privy to that particular shenanigan in the swirling maelstrom of the hivemind, it sure does fold itself well into their mess.
After a moment he blinks his gaze away from Hikage's movements and busies himself with the actual sake bottle; there's pouring to be done even amidst all the unasked for callbacks, and while this isn't exactly negotiation it is on some level still a continuation of that dance started too long ago under the gloom of a foggy morning and the soft hum of too many kanji.
Now as then he spends a split-second too long simply contemplating what's laid out before him, somewhere above the actual table's surface, holding on to the sake bottle (maybe it's just the stage of drunk when everything seems slower, maybe it isn't).]
... But okay. [the fact that it's spoken a touch too quietly isn't quite enough to disguise something shining through the one word, before he speaks over it] The show must go on, after all, though I don't know if that means I should be keeping score. I'll have to think about it if we're doing an encore.
[And that almost manages to be playful apart from the fact that he's still studying his cup and the menu with that same not-quite-drunken care.]
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This is some sake weighted lag, but it's probably not all of it. Another several seconds later (enough for Subete to preoccupy himself with the sake bottle), Hikage starts to run his mouth in a different way. ]
That's not what I meant! He was so drunk I had to actually drag him back to his room but he kept complaining about some woman named Reika and an oil drum? [ Actually he kind of ran his mouth there too but these things just happen when you're from an otome and smashed. What matters is what's behind the ridiculous flowery veil of it all, and even after he cuts himself off to drink more sake what comes out is- ]
Just—I didn't mean it like that with him. I only like-I'm only interested in you. [ Which he had no intention of saying but oops. They can match in brightness now, because being a tsun who was too honest is truly suffering. Oh so smoothly he tries to pick up the rest of what's been said while being incredibly engrossed in the menu. ]
...good. I've never kept score before.
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[He has a moment or two to bask himself in the satisfaction of turning Hikage's innuendo back on him for once, and dragging Date as an aside is just a bonus; as much as it is a continued call-out, though, it doesn't manage to sound entirely like a complaint. The disastrous fact of the matter is that he's gotten used to that mouth one way or the other (mostly, very mostly just at this moment), and for all his stubborn commitment to chaos he is a creature of habit in some very real ways, too.
Unfortunately it is only a moment, though, because then Hikage comes out with the next bit and if Subete had actually taken a sip of the sake he's brought halfway to his face he would have choked on it. As it is he very nearly drops the cup, and his eyes snap up reflexively to stare at... what is probably the top of Hikage's head, flyaway lock and all.]
Oh. You-- I-- [apparently having any equilibrium whatsoever, drunken or otherwise, or not being the color of Hikage's entire cape is just a thing of the past now, because for once he fumbles both his words and everything else -- regardless of whether they're looking at each other the expression in his stare manages to spill all over his voice, more of that softness he was trying and failing to hide and something else surprised and a little raw all jumbled] --Yeah. Come with me? The Foundation can rot. I'm not done with them -- not by a long shot, but that goes for this world, too.
[It manages to all be blurted out nearly all in one breath, despite or maybe because of everything happening at once. He tries to collect himself for a second before giving up; sometimes you just have to dig deeper to find out which way is up.]
If we're going to do this, let's do it our way.
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He removes himself from the menu and his mind when Subete starts speaking (instinct mostly, that part of him that can't seem to stop when it comes to them), but it takes him a second more to catch up. The sake has something to do with it, but what he's hearing—he laughs a little, lightly, softly and stares down at his hands. They tremble under the weight of everything he's done, in anticipation of everything he still wants to do. Stained dark enough, they've left a trail in their wake as he's flown farther and farther, as he's escaped net after net of security. If he stops he'll fall, if someone catches him they'll only become dirty too. So he needs to fly just like he has done so many times before, just like he had done several times today, but when he looks beyond his hands to see where he is... ]
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I think I already have. [ It's mumbled because he hadn't even realized that he started to speak, but now that he's caught sight of his destination he's entirely unwilling to stop. Whether this clarity is fleeting or not, onward he presses. A breath and he starts again, looking up and meeting Subete's eyes. Each syllable is clearer and stronger than the last. ]
...but I'll say it—I'll come with you. I want to see it all. Everything we can do on our own terms, everything we can do together. [ At the end it crescendos into a smile, seen and heard in earnest, full of light and dark colors woven together somehow in a harmonious truth. ]
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But that's the difference: like a storm or a swamp the miasma is very much a thing of the past, leaving all the shades that he's learned to read too well -- and here where for the first time in forever he can see and hear true even through the drunken fog he's still somewhat new to, he can sneak in a bookmark. It's okay: everything here is somehow new and he has no intention of falling behind.]
... Yeah. I wanted to ask. I wanted to say it together, because-- [it's the rush of so much light and color and everything in between, the kaleidoscope that he's caught glimpses of until now; like drinking a shot of lightning or a firework, searing all the way down and jolting you out of yourself; but there's something more delicate here, so he just lets impulse carry him and places his sake cup down against Hikage's and without any further thought slides his hands over his] --those are the words I want to give you. It'll be easier to make sense of this world and this time with you here, so...
[It's still rushed, like he's forcing everything including his breath through this narrow gap and moment, but there's a rare and perhaps unexpected earnestness to it -- solid, like the warm grip of his hands, not quite a handshake and not quite handholding and maybe something in between.
They've made so many deals large and small, after all (no one knows whether to call them promises, but it's been a while since he's believed in those, too). Their cups click together with the closeness, and Subete pulls his hands back to raise his a little.]
I'll drink to that.
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There's a slight startle at the touch but he relaxes into it pretty much immediately with a soft exhale. It's strange because he's familiar with physical contact of all kinds, but not exactly like this; he's long blown past his framework for relationships on several levels, but it's surprisingly pleasant even if he's stumbled into so many things tonight. ]
It's important. So it's good we...it's good. [ It's a bit hard to express beyond that in the current sea of his mind, awash in a warmth that he thought had long been worn away. Even still he doesn't want to let go of that shimmer, regardless if it's at the cost of some of his grace. So he nods to the toast and drains his cup, which might as well be water at this point for how smoothly it goes down. He'll wait for Subete to finish and then make his move. ]
But I don't want to just drink. [ Words are difficult and only getting harder, but kisses-this isn't as poised as the first time (he would for sure be getting seaweed all over himself if the table wasn't clear), but it's more fervent and intense. As tongue tied as he is verbally, his physical prowess is just fine. ]
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It helps that his vision and all his attention have narrowed to singular points, softly dipped in fog; it helps that he's currently experiencing on several different levels the ways in which words can go part of the way and still be drowned out by other things the rest of the way, because even he runs out of coherence every once in a while. There's a lot of every once in a whiles in the past while. Somewhat muzzily but greedily he collects all the bits and pieces between them, all the things he's never heard or found before and wants to claim; he doesn't want to forget later, no matter how much liquor has been involved.
There's a small jolt like he really did drink down a bolt of lightning when he blinks and he's being kissed again -- this time it takes a moment or two and another startled sigh before he manages to settle into catching up; after everything else and at this point in the night it really is a little overwhelming but he's getting a taste for it, the sweetness and dizzying pace melting away along with time and everything else.
So there's another jolt when there's a breathing pause and he realizes that at some point the waitress had shown up, waiting with that conspicuous silence and inconspicuous lack of presence. Oops.]
... You're going to blow our cover. [it's a whisper because he hasn't bothered to pull away (or maybe because this feels a little less like talking directly in front of the waitress who is still doing an admirable job of failing to listen, or there really just isn't enough breath to get anywhere), but there's something a touch sheepish about it all the same, the way he has to close his eyes for a moment as though in concentration] But uh, maybe we should get the rest of it to go. Should find a hotel while I can still see... something.
[He's blinked his eyes back open and they've landed immediately on Hikage's mouth again, so the part about actually seeing might be a lost cause here. But seriously, it's hard to act on distraction with the looming waitstaff.]
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...ah, yeah we-right. [ There's no way he can manage smooth now, and there's more than a sprinkling of embarrassment on his cheeks and in his voice. Okay, he can push aside all the thoughts that are threatening to come back for the immediate ones which require moving which is an ordeal on its own. He just needs to pick a point, focus on it and-failed step one because while they're still this close his physical desire overrides everything else. Might as well roll with it so after one more brief kiss he pulls back.
There. Several seconds of fumbling through the menu later he orders the first item on the entree section, the tori soboro don because reading is kind of hard now too. ]
I don't remember what's outside but I could—[ Gestures vaguely with his hands which probably isn't doing either of them any favors in the distraction department but what is finding the right word for memory reading someone right now. ]
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(This particular pace won't and shouldn't last, but he vaguely kind of wants it to. Instinctively he's already filing it away for later, because flinging himself headfirst into the unknown is kind of a character trait.)
No matter how much they're stumbling and tripping over each other and the rest of society that nominally still exists it all feels a whole lot better than anything has felt in a while. A long while, really. And it certainly helps that he's not alone in this ridiculous downward slide into debauchery here.]
Right. [there's the softest flicker of amusement because Subete is distracted again now and getting more distracted by the minute; there's no resistance to the last minute kiss, he sinks into it readily and it takes moment or two of staring and Hikage actually getting on with his order for him to remember his own suggestion] ... Right. Niku kimchi don to go. And the sake, please.
[Things that he can apparently do on the fly while drunk: mind his manners for no good reason and remember inconsequential skim overs of menus from what seems to be at least a few hours ago. Now that they're rid of the waitress he spends a few more idle moments getting led in circles by Hikage attempting to talk with his hands before he starts fumbling in his pockets--]
Phone, phone... Ah. [the house probably fell on it but he's too busy giving up which just means capturing Hikage's wayward hands with his own again] You really probably could.
[Does he know what they're even talking about or--]
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We can get new ones tomorrow, better ones with stickers. [ Because yes that's still his priority in the chaos of everything. Or it was until Subete grabs his hands and he flusters more somehow. You'd think having his hands held would be less intimate than kissing, and while it is sometimes his particular hangups pop right up to the forefront. ]
Ah—? But I need my hands, or at least one of them. [ Gestures with his head toward society outside their bubble, because his hands are currently occupied and he's making no move to take them back even with his increased flailing. ]
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And unfortunately his thoughts are currently scattered to the four winds, anyway, and they're not going to be productive anytime soon with the touches and the expressions Hikage is allowing through. There's a small cock of his head, questioning as he tries to parse several ideas at once, only one of which he understands with any clarity.]
All phones have stickers... kaomojis... the whole package. [all of his phones, anyway, and he's still rolling along in the 2015-2020 mindset of taking these particular things completely for granted] But since we don't have them right now...
[There's a slice of mischief in the smile he flashes while they're waiting -- he's really not normally one for this much impromptu contact, public or not, but here it's much more like catching what they've built just now in both palms and keeping it with him, like trying to drink from your hands; about that level of drunken shenanigans, and then some.
He stalls for a moment though when the waitress returns with all of their carefully-packaged goods, because now they really might need some way to carry things.]
... Hmm.
[Briefly he moves both of his hands to one of Hikage's, considers them... before apparently remembering that he also can prioritize with each hand; which, fine, he can get the package. Dining and dashing? It's fine, they were never here in the first place. The waitress has already vanished.]
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Oh, that'll make things easy. For tomorrow. [ Specified and broken up because their current predicament is a bit more challenging. He smiles back of course, though his own is lax and more of an acceptance of his life right now. The good thing about being thrown off at least is that he's able to claim some of his thoughts back, enough to prioritize their needs before his wants.
One hand is good enough because he'll brush his free hand against the waitress' arm when she drops off their order with that spark of red in his eye. Apparently he can be more selective in several ways with how he's reading when he's not trapped in a miasma mansion, or maybe it's something to do with line of sight or both. Either way he now has the layout of this neighborhood and other random bits about dining and San Jose in his mind, all at the small cost of adding to the killer hangover he'll have tomorrow. ]
...there's a hotel a couple of blocks...that way. [ Pointing with one eye closed because it's not like his hands got him into some of this mess in the first place. He tussles his bangs to recenter himself, immediately sees more purple than he should because the whole world is kind of wobbly and just sighs. He already did a drunk stumble back once, how much worse can this be? ]
Remind me next time to wear better shoes. [ Ones that are easier to slip on, though at least these aren't the worst. Heels still mandatory, though. But okay off they go and Hikage will just try to deal with being smashed, holding Subete's hand, guiding them to the hotel, and settling into his new lifestyle. (Judging by the ease at which next time was said, it's more than a welcome change even if he doesn't understand it himself yet). ]
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So there's a soft laugh once they get upright and he gets a good look at Hikage's new sheepdog look -- he has no free hands but he's all about making his amusement known all the same, and he's swaying a little where he stands, somewhat stumbling when they get moving but by some miracle keeping himself on track by reeling himself in by their joined hands. See, there are several practical reasons to be holding hands right now, even if he keeps forgetting that's what they're doing while navigating the strange waters of San Jose on sake.
There's a hum as he reorients both his vision and sense of balance away from red and black and purple and back towards the rest of the world, and tries to account for the extra weight of a bottle of sake and two donburi.]
A hotel... For tomorrow and, I can probably-- [it's his turn to gesture, but once again: zero free hands so what he does manage to do is swing their hands a little before shaking his head and shrugging, look, he tried] --and the shoes, too.
[It's completely unclear what he's supposed to be doing about the shoes, or anything, but it's probably an agreement. That's pretty much the mood for the rest of their ridiculous trip to this hotel -- keeping hold of or leaning on each other at intervals, doing their best to keep out of the street, being a little too loud at who-knows-what o'clock and basking in the warm glow of streetlamps and what is probably not just drink. The long-absent hints of stars beyond the city lights don't light the way, but they're a silver lining on the evening all the same.]
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