Hey, do you know how to manipulate pressure points?
[The question comes from Wei Wuxian who is lying on Itachi's floor with a pile of note paper spread around him and a pen in between his teeth. (There is also a pen sticking out of his messy bun. He put it there an hour ago, forgot where it was, and reached for a new one. Hair pen lives in his hair now.)]
[The question comes from Wei Wuxian who is lying on Itachi's floor with a pile of note paper spread around him and a pen in between his teeth. (There is also a pen sticking out of his messy bun. He put it there an hour ago, forgot where it was, and reached for a new one. Hair pen lives in his hair now.)]
is it a panic attack is it a breakdown is it both we just don't know
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blackfire
- 2023-02-22 18:49 (UTC) - Expand[As seems to be habit of many people on the station, Kazuma is inclined to wander into the kitchen at odd hours. It's common enough that Kazuma isn't surprised to find someone already there when he does, but he is surprised that person is Itachi.
Kazuma doesn't know what to make of the guy, frankly. They haven't spoken much, but Itachi makes Kazuma uneasy for reasons he can't quite name. Perhaps it's the general vibe, but Kazuma feels on edge as soon as he sees him. It's undercut some, however, by the realization that Itachi... seems to be making sweets?
Not what Kazuma would have expected of him. He can't help but comment.]
...What is that you're making? [It looks like dango.]
Kazuma doesn't know what to make of the guy, frankly. They haven't spoken much, but Itachi makes Kazuma uneasy for reasons he can't quite name. Perhaps it's the general vibe, but Kazuma feels on edge as soon as he sees him. It's undercut some, however, by the realization that Itachi... seems to be making sweets?
Not what Kazuma would have expected of him. He can't help but comment.]
...What is that you're making? [It looks like dango.]
๏ผ the dough has been sorted into three bowls, the flavoring added. everything about his work space is precise and neat — he is clearly someone who cleans as he works. presently, he is boiling water — the little rolled dumplings, each perhaps a little too perfect, are set aside in preparation. itachi does not bother turning to face him, simply replies: ๏ผ
Sanshoku dango. Do you have something similar in your world?
๏ผ similar naming conventions do not always mean similar cultures, as he has discovered. if the man recognized the dango on sight, surely he would have started there? ๏ผ
Sanshoku dango. Do you have something similar in your world?
๏ผ similar naming conventions do not always mean similar cultures, as he has discovered. if the man recognized the dango on sight, surely he would have started there? ๏ผ
๏ผ he reads it, of course. not his first dostoevsky book, not his last. it joins the house of the dead and notes from the underground on his shelf. it is not a peace offering, he thinks — yelena isn't one to consider harsh words requiring the social lubrication of a gift after the fact.
is this a friendship?
so at some point, when yelena is out of her quarters, she will return to a small wrapped parcel sitting on her nightstand. inside the box is a present and a note written in an almost obnoxiously perfect english alphabet, with a consistency that could be envied by machines, signed in katakana: ๏ผ
so at some point, when yelena is out of her quarters, she will return to a small wrapped parcel sitting on her nightstand. inside the box is a present and a note written in an almost obnoxiously perfect english alphabet, with a consistency that could be envied by machines, signed in katakana: ๏ผ
I understand you like pockets.
— ใคใฟใ
— ใคใฟใ
[ he had given her a time that she might find him in the room, and it is the earliest hour of those that she arrives — elves need little sleep, after all, and she would rather spend her time learning what might be necessary than waste it on something she does not require. ]
Itachi, wasn't it? [ she says upon entering the room and seeing him there, smiling slightly. she doesn't make for an imposing sight — willowy and ethereal, like an apparition in moonlight more than a flesh-and-blood being. ]
You told me once I might call upon you to help me, should I require instruction in the art of self-defense. Our recent mission has left me with ample evidence of why I may need it, going forward... so here I am.
Itachi, wasn't it? [ she says upon entering the room and seeing him there, smiling slightly. she doesn't make for an imposing sight — willowy and ethereal, like an apparition in moonlight more than a flesh-and-blood being. ]
You told me once I might call upon you to help me, should I require instruction in the art of self-defense. Our recent mission has left me with ample evidence of why I may need it, going forward... so here I am.
๏ผ he is still recovering, but that is not the deterrent for him it may pose for others — pain has been a companion for him for so long that it is stranger to be without it than not. so he is in the training room, carefully setting up targets for the day in the corner he's customarily in. few other people join him at this early hour, so when he hears the soft, musical tone of luthien's voice he cants his head to one side faintly.
there are not many people who step so lightly that he cannot hear them until they speak. ๏ผ
Very well.
๏ผ he turns to face her fully, gives her a respectful nod. then: ๏ผ
Do you have any specific preference for what it is you wish to learn?
there are not many people who step so lightly that he cannot hear them until they speak. ๏ผ
Very well.
๏ผ he turns to face her fully, gives her a respectful nod. then: ๏ผ
Do you have any specific preference for what it is you wish to learn?
[Immediately after his conversation with Finn, Wei Wuxian had gone to the infirmary. He'd meant what he said to Finn about not wanting to get in the way, but he just had to see Itachi once—just to know he was alright—and then he'd leave him in peace. So it's with surprise and thinly concealed concern that he realizes Itachi isn't in the infirmary at all.
(Before his thoughts can truly spiral into worse-case scenarios, he reminds himself that if Itachi is well enough, he'd have returned to his room as soon as was humanly possible.)
With a deep shaking breath he traces the familiar path to his friend's door and stops, closing his eyes and curling his hands into fists. If Itachi is recovering, it would be stupid to make him rise and walk to the door. Stupid to make him endure any kind of company right now. Instead of knocking, he sends a message.]
Itachi?
(Before his thoughts can truly spiral into worse-case scenarios, he reminds himself that if Itachi is well enough, he'd have returned to his room as soon as was humanly possible.)
With a deep shaking breath he traces the familiar path to his friend's door and stops, closing his eyes and curling his hands into fists. If Itachi is recovering, it would be stupid to make him rise and walk to the door. Stupid to make him endure any kind of company right now. Instead of knocking, he sends a message.]
Itachi?
๏ผ mccoy is thorough, but he recognizes the fact that itachi has little desire to convalesce under the scrutiny of the other orbers — and he's been under mccoy's care now long enough that the man lets him off with regular check-ins the moment he's stable and ambulatory enough to see to his own needs.
healing is easy. it's just existing, and hurting, and breathing.
he adheres to mccoy's strict regimen, but otherwise he eschews all contact. he has never been someone who seeks out company when wounded — that tendency to withdraw, to self-isolate has existed in him since he was a child, and precious few have ever drawn him out beyond it.
wei wuxian's text does not make him inclined to break tradition. it sits blinking for a handful of minutes, and finally there is an irate: what do you want? that he did not strictly mean to send, evident perhaps by its informality. ๏ผ
healing is easy. it's just existing, and hurting, and breathing.
he adheres to mccoy's strict regimen, but otherwise he eschews all contact. he has never been someone who seeks out company when wounded — that tendency to withdraw, to self-isolate has existed in him since he was a child, and precious few have ever drawn him out beyond it.
wei wuxian's text does not make him inclined to break tradition. it sits blinking for a handful of minutes, and finally there is an irate: what do you want? that he did not strictly mean to send, evident perhaps by its informality. ๏ผ
Edited 2023-03-07 03:18 (UTC)
( itachi needn't be any kind of expert in body language to see that mccoy is agitated when he finds him, his mouth a tight line and a red flush creeping up his neck, his fingers wrapped so tight around the strap of his bag his knuckles are white. )
Walk with me.
( it's bossy, direct, and clearly not a request as the doctor stalks away from him, long strides away from the collection of people around them. )
Walk with me.
( it's bossy, direct, and clearly not a request as the doctor stalks away from him, long strides away from the collection of people around them. )
๏ผ he has a curious relationship with being ordered to do anything that mccoy has never directly abutted before. it's briefly visible in the set of his jaw, the way he does not immediately move to obey. tension lives in every line of him, patience frayed like a living nerve.
and then the instinct is marshalled, overridden, set aside. he falls into step alongside the man, quiet as a shadow. he does not speak, simply cocks his head to indicate he is mindful of what mccoy may say. ๏ผ
and then the instinct is marshalled, overridden, set aside. he falls into step alongside the man, quiet as a shadow. he does not speak, simply cocks his head to indicate he is mindful of what mccoy may say. ๏ผ
[It's not something he'd usually do and not something he's ever tried before, but when two Hivawei eagerly invite him over to partake in the waterpipe he can't help but agree. It won't be enough to entirely drown out the sorrow in his heart and that's for the best. He knows better than to search for relief that way. Still, with only a handful of days remaining in their time here, it might be nice to feel something else, just for a little while.
He turns to glance at Itachi over his shoulder as he's ushered over, unsure if his friend will follow and join him or retreat now that they've been invited to indulge.]
He turns to glance at Itachi over his shoulder as he's ushered over, unsure if his friend will follow and join him or retreat now that they've been invited to indulge.]
๏ผ drugs hold neither allure nor mystery to him. half his life was spent taking kotarล, with all its resultant side-effects abound, and he has always misliked anything that loosens the hold on his resolve. but given the circumstances, acquiescing to the invitation is the least harm — and he suspects he should keep an eye on his friend regardless.
they are brought to a tent already filled with the blue-green haze of smoke, and itachi's eyes are narrowed as they duck in under the hanging drapes. several hivawei are seated on low benches, and he and wei wuxian are gestured to an open area.
he samples the pipe mostly to be polite, mindful of his damaged lungs, and waves off the majority of other passes. his attention shifts between the native inhabitants of the world and wei wuxian, mindful of his sobriety and ready to make excuses for the both of them to leave if needed.
it's not all terrible. the hivawei are pleasant and cheerful, open in a way that only a civilization without war can be. against his better judgment, some of the tension leaves his posture as he sits seiza around a central fire, watching the steam rise to the roof and escape through a specialized opening.
eventually, their hivawei hosts drift to other pockets of interaction, and itachi reaches out to brush his hand against wei wuxian's elbow. a clear question he doesn't voice, are you all right? ๏ผ
they are brought to a tent already filled with the blue-green haze of smoke, and itachi's eyes are narrowed as they duck in under the hanging drapes. several hivawei are seated on low benches, and he and wei wuxian are gestured to an open area.
he samples the pipe mostly to be polite, mindful of his damaged lungs, and waves off the majority of other passes. his attention shifts between the native inhabitants of the world and wei wuxian, mindful of his sobriety and ready to make excuses for the both of them to leave if needed.
it's not all terrible. the hivawei are pleasant and cheerful, open in a way that only a civilization without war can be. against his better judgment, some of the tension leaves his posture as he sits seiza around a central fire, watching the steam rise to the roof and escape through a specialized opening.
eventually, their hivawei hosts drift to other pockets of interaction, and itachi reaches out to brush his hand against wei wuxian's elbow. a clear question he doesn't voice, are you all right? ๏ผ
( Itachi does not escape McCoy's attention this morning after, and the doctor shows up dutifully on his doorstep after another stop in the kitchen. his hefty second bag is since reduced to a small covered tray, with rice, an omelette, quick pickled cucumbers, tea, and a serving of cinnamon bread pudding.
the former are the product of some guesswork-slash-McCoy's general interest in noticing others' meals. can't scold your crewmates with a professional's zeal for poor eating habits if you don't know what they're eating, after all. )
Thought you could use some breakfast.
the former are the product of some guesswork-slash-McCoy's general interest in noticing others' meals. can't scold your crewmates with a professional's zeal for poor eating habits if you don't know what they're eating, after all. )
Thought you could use some breakfast.
๏ผ by the time mccoy finds his door, he has been up and training for hours. his hair is damp, his small quarters filled with the billowing steam of an excruciatingly hot shower when he opens his door. his expression is intractable as it ever is, but the absence of tension to his shoulders speaks in and of itself. he steps back, letting the man inside. his space is as neat and bare as it ever is. tiny slivers of personality have snuck in over the course of the nearly two years he has been present here — the row of books on the shelves, the sword on the wall, the selection of fine teas. the pictures of he, wei wuxian and gwen.
he takes the tray from mccoy as he directs the man to remove his shoes, and sets the breakfast down on his desk. ๏ผ
What is the occasion?
๏ผ it's asked as he takes down his teapot and cups, clearly preparing for mccoy to stay a while. ๏ผ
he takes the tray from mccoy as he directs the man to remove his shoes, and sets the breakfast down on his desk. ๏ผ
What is the occasion?
๏ผ it's asked as he takes down his teapot and cups, clearly preparing for mccoy to stay a while. ๏ผ
[He's on his way back to Itachi's room when Viveca drops the mission file on them and he pauses in his steps to listen, immediately opening up the attached file to see the designated teams. He lets out a sigh of relief at seeing Lan Sizhui's name, but then frowns as he finishes making his way through. It'll be fine really, it's not a big deal, but that doesn't stop the pang of disappointment in his gut. A month isn't really that long though, it'll be fine.
When he enters the room, there's still a frown on his face despite his best efforts to hide it.
He slips off his shoes and makes for the bed, sitting cross legged there as Itachi appears from whatever he'd been doing before, and pouring out the contents of his qiankun pouch in a pile before him.]
...I should have asked if the ghost matter will suppress this too. [He was going to start packing but it occurs to him now it might not be usable at all.]
When he enters the room, there's still a frown on his face despite his best efforts to hide it.
He slips off his shoes and makes for the bed, sitting cross legged there as Itachi appears from whatever he'd been doing before, and pouring out the contents of his qiankun pouch in a pile before him.]
...I should have asked if the ghost matter will suppress this too. [He was going to start packing but it occurs to him now it might not be usable at all.]
๏ผ he is carrying a bin of books, which as wei wuxian works he begins to set out on his desk and sort through diligently. the books are a motley collection. english, russian, a few in chinese. one in ravkan. one in spanish. pattern recognition and thus the learning of written language is accelerated with the sharingan, of course, but itachi also just genuinely enjoys the art of perfecting something new, and these novels are very much a reflection of that desire. as his hand stills on a copy of romance of the three kingdoms when wei wuxian speaks, and he gives him a sideways look. ๏ผ
Difficult to say. It may not, as it expends none of a user's current powers or ability to use, it is a thing innate to the bag itself. However, it may attract ghost matter in and of itself.
Difficult to say. It may not, as it expends none of a user's current powers or ability to use, it is a thing innate to the bag itself. However, it may attract ghost matter in and of itself.
[ a note left for itachi, written in lan xichen's hand. with it, he leaves a text on qi and golden cores as they relate to the cultivation of his world. in case that's helpful or insightful for any reason. ]
you once said to me that what i destroyed in the past has no bearing on what i may build in the future. the words have helped me heal more than i can express. i don't know if i'll remember them when i return to my home, but i hope i re-learn that is possible for one to build a future that is not dripping with the blood that once stained their hands. but it's a choice.
for all the value my sect put in it, few have been honest in their regards to me. thank you for your honesty. it reminded me that i am not an ideal image carved from cool, unbending jade but a man.
there is room for humanity within all of us.
may you succeed in your goals here.
[One of the nicest parts of his cover as a musician is that it means working during the week with weekends off any time there isn't an event or fundraiser going on, and that means that the moment Itachi alerts him of his arrival, he's free to shuttle over to Nuhiri to meet him. Wei Wuxian has never been one to shy away from a raucous nightlife, but even for him, Naephus proves to be a lot. For as much as he enjoys the constant hum of a city that never sleeps, places like Nuhiri are where he truly feels at ease.
Unwilling to leave Sizhui on his own even if he's more than capable, the junior posing as his younger brother had come along for the ride and then set out to adventure on his own, leaving Wei Wuxian to reunite with his friend.
He'd planned to spend the weekend quietly taking in the sights with Itachi.
He hadn't counted on all that Nuhiri has to offer.]
Wait, have you done this? [Wei Wuxian asks Itachi, nearly pushing the tourist brochure he'd been idly flipping through into Itachi's hands. They're sitting in an outdoor cafรฉ built amidst the flourishing greenery of the planet, and the quiet calm of it doesn't even remotely resemble the activity in the brochure that Wei Wuxian is currently eyeing.]
Unwilling to leave Sizhui on his own even if he's more than capable, the junior posing as his younger brother had come along for the ride and then set out to adventure on his own, leaving Wei Wuxian to reunite with his friend.
He'd planned to spend the weekend quietly taking in the sights with Itachi.
He hadn't counted on all that Nuhiri has to offer.]
Wait, have you done this? [Wei Wuxian asks Itachi, nearly pushing the tourist brochure he'd been idly flipping through into Itachi's hands. They're sitting in an outdoor cafรฉ built amidst the flourishing greenery of the planet, and the quiet calm of it doesn't even remotely resemble the activity in the brochure that Wei Wuxian is currently eyeing.]
๏ผ he glances at the brochure, and then away. ๏ผ
Snowboarding? No.
๏ผ he's made use of the lodges themselves — more for building social connections and playing the 'off-worlder' than anything, but as to an actual interest in cold-weather sports? no such urge exists. without being able to use chakra to improve his circulation, he finds himself being, often, perilously cold in such regions. ๏ผ
If you've an interest, there are lessons available.
Snowboarding? No.
๏ผ he's made use of the lodges themselves — more for building social connections and playing the 'off-worlder' than anything, but as to an actual interest in cold-weather sports? no such urge exists. without being able to use chakra to improve his circulation, he finds himself being, often, perilously cold in such regions. ๏ผ
If you've an interest, there are lessons available.
[ The makeshift family walked "home" in relative silence, save some grumblings and gentle reminders of being careful from Dr. McCoy. It was only once they reached Itachi's apartment complex that a brief discussion begins over who Finn should stay with. It ends as quickly as it starts, with Finn moving closer to Itachi's side unthinkingly.
Obviously, he would stay with him. Finn tries not to examine why that felt so certain. Something told him thinking about it too much would leave to more questions he definitely didn't feel certain about.
The apartment was furnished by the building, straddling the line between hotel and home. While Itachi prepared dinner, Finn got a feel for the too-firm chairs and stared at the strange art on the walls. Anything that kept him from watching the blonde haired woman busying herself in the kitchenette.
From some angles, Finn saw his friend. From others, Finn saw his mother.
He was better off not looking at all.
---
Soon enough, pleasant smells filled the small apartment. It would be tempting even if Finn hadn't survived the last few weeks on flavorless Federation rations. He peeks up over the back of the couch, where he'd been slumping for the last hour flipping through channels, blinking in the direction of dinner. The pseudo mother and son hadn't exchanged more than a couple words with each other since arriving home, content to cook and sulk respectively.
Unfortunately, that fragile spell was no match for Finn's hunger. ]
Are we eating soon?
Obviously, he would stay with him. Finn tries not to examine why that felt so certain. Something told him thinking about it too much would leave to more questions he definitely didn't feel certain about.
The apartment was furnished by the building, straddling the line between hotel and home. While Itachi prepared dinner, Finn got a feel for the too-firm chairs and stared at the strange art on the walls. Anything that kept him from watching the blonde haired woman busying herself in the kitchenette.
From some angles, Finn saw his friend. From others, Finn saw his mother.
He was better off not looking at all.
---
Soon enough, pleasant smells filled the small apartment. It would be tempting even if Finn hadn't survived the last few weeks on flavorless Federation rations. He peeks up over the back of the couch, where he'd been slumping for the last hour flipping through channels, blinking in the direction of dinner. The pseudo mother and son hadn't exchanged more than a couple words with each other since arriving home, content to cook and sulk respectively.
Unfortunately, that fragile spell was no match for Finn's hunger. ]
Are we eating soon?
๏ผ he had known even before he did the henge that he would likely need to maintain the shape he chose throughout the mission's end, not willing to risk that undoing it would be the second use of his powers to the perception of the ghost matter and to the orb's protection. it does not bother him, truly. he has never been one to care overmuch what he looks like or how others view him, so beyond the slight difference in the body's center of gravity, it serves him as well as any other form he might take.
he pins his hair up in his customary way as he cooks, and by the time finn speaks he is mostly done with the fish and rice he's prepared, the smell of something analogous to ginger and lemon hanging in the air. ๏ผ
Yes. Please set the table.
๏ผ the inflection is still his, even if the voice is not quite the same. 'ophelia' still has a low voice, rich and lush with the dimension to its depths. it is perhaps the most similarity he has with the transformation he selected. ๏ผ
he pins his hair up in his customary way as he cooks, and by the time finn speaks he is mostly done with the fish and rice he's prepared, the smell of something analogous to ginger and lemon hanging in the air. ๏ผ
Yes. Please set the table.
๏ผ the inflection is still his, even if the voice is not quite the same. 'ophelia' still has a low voice, rich and lush with the dimension to its depths. it is perhaps the most similarity he has with the transformation he selected. ๏ผ
going to use pronouns here to designate finn's shifting perception...
heroooic
- 2023-04-30 05:15 (UTC) - Expand( mccoy can't say he's grown used to this new routine of theirs, the careful scheduling of time and proximity to spin the illusion of loving parents looking after their son. some days, itachi appears for breakfast; others, bones brings supper to itachi's after work for him and finn, spending the night on the couch. it would be easier if there weren't signs of being so closely checked up on, not knowing if a step out of line meant finn might be spirited away, left in the orphanage until they wrapped up the whole goddamn orb mess. )
My coworkers can't wait to meet you.
( finn is out, they've received gala invitations, and mccoy has taken the liberty of flopping dramatically across the foot of itachi's bed, waiting for him to put his face on at the small vanity. from behind, the pin-straight veil of gold hair reminds bones of his ex โ she tried it once, trading in chocolate brown for cream soda blonde shortly after their wedding, and promptly didn't like it โ and he sits up quick to dispel the image, as itachi lowers his gaze in the mirror, sweeping soft strokes of black pencil at the rim of his lid. pamela would have chosen brown, with baby-soft pink on the lid and warm grey in the crease; neutrals, sweet and conservative.
it's something he hasn't thought about in years, and he frowns for it as he continues, idly, still watching itachi, ) Should we coordinate? Folks apparently go all out for this thing.
My coworkers can't wait to meet you.
( finn is out, they've received gala invitations, and mccoy has taken the liberty of flopping dramatically across the foot of itachi's bed, waiting for him to put his face on at the small vanity. from behind, the pin-straight veil of gold hair reminds bones of his ex โ she tried it once, trading in chocolate brown for cream soda blonde shortly after their wedding, and promptly didn't like it โ and he sits up quick to dispel the image, as itachi lowers his gaze in the mirror, sweeping soft strokes of black pencil at the rim of his lid. pamela would have chosen brown, with baby-soft pink on the lid and warm grey in the crease; neutrals, sweet and conservative.
it's something he hasn't thought about in years, and he frowns for it as he continues, idly, still watching itachi, ) Should we coordinate? Folks apparently go all out for this thing.
๏ผ make-up is simple enough for steady hands and keen attention. he does not enjoy it, strictly speaking, but there is certainly something to be said for the ritual of making one's self acceptably invisible among the masses. the majority of women — and many men — on this planet wear make-up, and while he is trapped in the henge, unwilling to risk the second use of his powers to undo it he will adhere to that custom.
(he learned kabuki stage make-up once, as a way of getting close enough to place a genjutsu upon a politician. both the make-up and the methods differ here, but the broad strokes are not so dissimilar as all that.)
his attention flickers to mccoy in the mirror image. eye contact, if indirectly. ๏ผ
I'm not averse. It would not be difficult to colour-match the gown I purchased for any accessories or accents for you.
๏ผ he cants his head faintly as he changes hands to draw the second of the sharp wings on properly, and as he works with meticulous care: ๏ผ
What have you told them of 'Ophelia'?
๏ผ even the simplest thing, if contradicted, can cast suspicion over a ruse. he would do well to be mindful. ๏ผ
(he learned kabuki stage make-up once, as a way of getting close enough to place a genjutsu upon a politician. both the make-up and the methods differ here, but the broad strokes are not so dissimilar as all that.)
his attention flickers to mccoy in the mirror image. eye contact, if indirectly. ๏ผ
I'm not averse. It would not be difficult to colour-match the gown I purchased for any accessories or accents for you.
๏ผ he cants his head faintly as he changes hands to draw the second of the sharp wings on properly, and as he works with meticulous care: ๏ผ
What have you told them of 'Ophelia'?
๏ผ even the simplest thing, if contradicted, can cast suspicion over a ruse. he would do well to be mindful. ๏ผ
[ Finn kicks his shoes off at the door, a new habit heโd internalized after more than a few disapproving looks from Itachi. Entering the apartment the three of them been living in for the past month, it was strange how much like a home he was starting to think of it. The transcience of it was never too far from his mind, of course, but there were moments where it was nice to let that fact retreat into a less conscious part of himself. To just be in the here and now of it.
Moving into the kitchenette of the small apartment, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the space, he drops a paper bag on the table, dusting loose powder from his hands. ]
Hey, Itachi? You busy?
Moving into the kitchenette of the small apartment, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the space, he drops a paper bag on the table, dusting loose powder from his hands. ]
Hey, Itachi? You busy?
Edited 2023-05-28 02:49 (UTC)
๏ผ he is seated at the table, sheafs of paper spread out before him. it looks as though he's drawing, left-handed — but what he is actually doing is composing notes in cypher, hidden and encoded in plain sight. he does not look up as finn approaches, instead merely canting his head to one side faintly to show he's listening. the blonde hair of his cover identity is drawn up into a loose bun, the occasional soft curl escaping only to be tucked stubbornly back behind one ear. ๏ผ
Not at the moment. What do you need?
๏ผ the voice may not be his, but the inflection certainly is. as 'ophelia' he tends to pitch it higher, carry more emotion — but there is no need to maintain such a thing around one who knows it's him beneath the borrowed face and body. ๏ผ
Not at the moment. What do you need?
๏ผ the voice may not be his, but the inflection certainly is. as 'ophelia' he tends to pitch it higher, carry more emotion — but there is no need to maintain such a thing around one who knows it's him beneath the borrowed face and body. ๏ผ
[ It didn't take long for the Uchiha-Mertens-Dog home to establish a routine. Finn and Itachi would both head out for a chunk of the day, while Jake tracked a sunbeam through the living room until they returned. Sometimes he'd accompany Finn in the boy's backpack (walking was for chumps), but the freedom to speak normally gave him little urge to leave the relative safety of their apartment.
Sometimes he would stretch his legs around the block, but only figuratively. With the relaxed atmosphere of their temporary digs, Jake couldn't always remember to hold off on power use. That carelessness made his relationship with Ghost Matter closer than the dog would've liked, but as long as he was going to be fatigued... at least there were more people around here than up at Emerton's.
Not that he didn't miss the old guy sometimes. Itachi was far less of a cuddler, for one.
He also wasn't much of a sleeper. That was kind of a separate problem. ]
Hey. Hey. [ Jake yawns, batting a paw at one of Itachi's blanketed feet insistently. After a day spent dozing, sleep wasn't coming easy to the dog. Sharing a bed with a woman-shaped-man who lay there eerily unmoving, eyes closed, and yet very clearly not asleep wasn't making it any easier. ] What are you doing, meditating or mind-texting?
Sometimes he would stretch his legs around the block, but only figuratively. With the relaxed atmosphere of their temporary digs, Jake couldn't always remember to hold off on power use. That carelessness made his relationship with Ghost Matter closer than the dog would've liked, but as long as he was going to be fatigued... at least there were more people around here than up at Emerton's.
Not that he didn't miss the old guy sometimes. Itachi was far less of a cuddler, for one.
He also wasn't much of a sleeper. That was kind of a separate problem. ]
Hey. Hey. [ Jake yawns, batting a paw at one of Itachi's blanketed feet insistently. After a day spent dozing, sleep wasn't coming easy to the dog. Sharing a bed with a woman-shaped-man who lay there eerily unmoving, eyes closed, and yet very clearly not asleep wasn't making it any easier. ] What are you doing, meditating or mind-texting?
๏ผ he finds beds of this nature distinctly uncomfortable. every little motion seems to set off a creaky spring, and so his solution — short of sleeping on the floor, which he takes little issue with — has just been to lay as still as possible and doze. not quite sleeping, not quite awake. restful enough that the symptoms of fatigue do not touch him strongly — but he is aware he is reaching his limit.
jake's nudge to his foot gets him to crack an eye open, and he pushes himself up on his hands to survey the little yellow dog nested into a loaf at his feet. ๏ผ
Resting. ๏ผ so, more the former than the latter, then. ๏ผ What do you want?
๏ผ brusque? maybe a little. but then, jake is no stranger to it from him by now. ๏ผ
jake's nudge to his foot gets him to crack an eye open, and he pushes himself up on his hands to survey the little yellow dog nested into a loaf at his feet. ๏ผ
Resting. ๏ผ so, more the former than the latter, then. ๏ผ What do you want?
๏ผ brusque? maybe a little. but then, jake is no stranger to it from him by now. ๏ผ
( mccoy catches up with itachi in the corridor.
he knows he'll be heard even if he attempts to be quiet so he doesn't even try, his boots loud on the steel flooring, and he knows what he does next is unwise. he does it anyway, reaching out to grasp uchiha by the shoulder, to still him, to hold onto him as best he can. )
Who are you to me?
( it comes out stricken. )
he knows he'll be heard even if he attempts to be quiet so he doesn't even try, his boots loud on the steel flooring, and he knows what he does next is unwise. he does it anyway, reaching out to grasp uchiha by the shoulder, to still him, to hold onto him as best he can. )
Who are you to me?
( it comes out stricken. )
๏ผ he hears the steps, heavy in the hall, and makes no move to avoid the grasp of the man's hands. his mouth thins in an unhappy line — there is only one possible source of this information, and he had expected wei wuxian to know better.
red eyes cut away from the man, focused on a spot on the wall over his shoulder. itachi has never eschewed eye contact, but initiating it — for him — it is always the equivalent of setting a knife to someone's throat. he had done the literal equivalent back in alydhion, and is not driven to reproduce it here.
for once in his life, it does not occur to him to simply lie. ๏ผ
We are — comrades. Beyond that, it is not my place to say what you think of me. Your feelings have always been your own.
red eyes cut away from the man, focused on a spot on the wall over his shoulder. itachi has never eschewed eye contact, but initiating it — for him — it is always the equivalent of setting a knife to someone's throat. he had done the literal equivalent back in alydhion, and is not driven to reproduce it here.
for once in his life, it does not occur to him to simply lie. ๏ผ
We are — comrades. Beyond that, it is not my place to say what you think of me. Your feelings have always been your own.
[Well, this sucks! But he did it to himself and he's not so prideful as to not offer his friend the apology that's due.]
Itachi, I contacted Doctor McCoy to try and get some information about his missing memories. I didn't mean to tell him, but in the process of asking him questions, I let it slip. I know you didn't want that. For what it's worth, that wasn't my intention.
I'm sorry.
Itachi, I contacted Doctor McCoy to try and get some information about his missing memories. I didn't mean to tell him, but in the process of asking him questions, I let it slip. I know you didn't want that. For what it's worth, that wasn't my intention.
I'm sorry.
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