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(no subject)

Who: Zhas & You!!
Broadcast: None (probably)
Action: Planetside OR Red Fish
When: Forward dated to the 31st, late at night

► PLANET-SIDE

[back home, Zhas had a long-standing tradition of not working on Halloween. he gets totally into it. he puts on his best "normal person" costume and goes out and parties and drinks and talks to the locals like he actually belongs there. it's the one day a year he doesn't obsessively hunt down monsters or worry about his slowly-decaying family.

he may be lightyears away from home, on a planet with no vampires or any proper Halloween festivities, but like hell he's going to let that get in the way of his traditional day off. he can be found hanging around town, dressed in a nondescript black shirt, not covered in weapons, and not wearing any facepaint. he might be kind of hard to recognize--though his eyes are still glowing an unsettling, jack-o-lantern orange under the dim, clouded night sky.

oh, and there's blood on his face. his nose was bleeding, or something. he apparently hasn't noticed. actually, to be completely honest, he's kind of having trouble noticing that he's going to run into things until he nearly stumbles over them. once or twice he has to like, hold his hands out to navigate around a lamp-post. dude's pretty drunk.]

► RED FISH

[...unless you're on the Red Fish. he's cleaned up his face, but he's sort of tipsily putting ingredients together in the kitchen and messing around with the microwave? seriously, he accidentally brushed flour off on his shirt, like, what is he even doing. this is probably how fires start.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[it is weird. even Zhas can pick up on it, in person like this. he's just... not quite the Coil that he used to know. it's just like he went away for a long trip and came back completely unused to all the things that have stayed exactly the same for Zhas.

but he nods anyway. it's good that he remembered. he was going to ask him if he wanted a drink, but he decides to skip ahead instead.]

'There are people who throw fire.' [he tries to keep his gestures easy to read, but even sobering up... he fumbles a little.] 'Come on.'

[they'll start by walking. that's a good first step.]

Edited 2014-11-03 06:18 (UTC)

[he can follow. that's easy enough, and he's kept up plenty of practice in that while Zhas has been gone. though, picking a side to fall into step on is a little tricky.

he automatically moves to put his friend on his blind side, before he changes his mind and alters his course at the last minute.

he walks where he can see him. that seems right.]

[oh, good. then Coil will be able to see it when Zhas reaches over, clamps onto the back of his neck, and forcefully drags him over to his other side.

maybe if he forces him back into the mold, he'll pick up on it faster.]

[he gambled wrong. but that's okay, because being put forcefully back into his place is really just what he needs.

he follows much more easily after that. starting to pick up on their old pace.]

[yes. this is already much better.

he leads Coil to where some performers have been hanging around, gathering a crowd--probably trying to take advantage of the festivities and earn themselves some extra chips. he finds them a place to sit, though that place is... at the top of some storage crates outside of someone's house. they probably don't belong to anyone.

no they absolutely belong to someone but he's climbing up on them anyway to get a better view.]

[Coil couldn't care less whose property they're trespassing on, so he scrambles right after him.

it feels good to get up off the street, at the very least. putting a little altitude between himself and the common throng has always been one of his favorite things, regardless of whatever world he's stuck on.]

[he settles, drunkenly pats the spot where Coil should sit. thankfully, these boxes seem more or less secure. they're half-netted for transport. maybe they really did drop everything just to throw them this party.

hunched forward, Zhas can see pretty far. no one's going to bother them up here (unless they start yelling for them to get down, or something). they can watch the lights and faces and fireballs from a safe distance. the stars are below them, as well as above. complete enclosure.

it's nice. he might be drunk, but he still gets that look on his face when he's deeply satisfied with something--be it the view, a new discovery, a conquest, or something that Saoirse's said to him. even with everything so... out-of-sorts, he's somehow managed a happy birthday after all.]

[Coil doesn't understand the look.

or, he recognizes it on Zhas and roughly knows what it means, but he doesn't know how to sympathize with it. it's the opposite of what he's feeling, despite his attempts to follow along.

for a minute, he can get himself to settle and watch the festivities below, but that's as long as his focus lasts. after that, he's left feeling uncomfortable in his own skin and sliding glances up in Zhas' direction]

[he can get away with watching Zhas for a while. he's wholly absorbed in his own mysterious thoughts, tracking movement, arms folded up close to his chest. he would much rather live in the illusion that everything is fine.

eventually, though, he looks over and catches Coil's glance--and belatedly remembers that things aren't all right. he signs:]

'What are you thinking?'

[that's a simple question, but Coil feels more overwhelmed by it than he should. he thinks of all kinds of complicated, fragmented things, and this is followed closely by thinking about how much he hates trying to put anything into words. once upon a time, he'd sworn never to communicate another word. now, he half-wishes that he'd stuck to that.

so, it takes him a minute.

until--finally--he thinks of something short that kind of sums it all up.]

'home.'

[that's as good an answer as any. even with his mind cloudy, he can nod and sign back.]

'You feel weak.'

[...a moment later, he thinks to finally add the equivalent of a question mark.]

[...oh.

he feels a stab, but he at least has the presence of mind to try and hide some of his reaction to it. no need to throw more fuel onto this corrosive little flame. the question mark means pretty much nothing to him. it's the first part that matters.

the sign that follows is small, but heartfelt.]

'sorry.'

[the sign isn't two seconds old before Zhas reaches over and bats Coil's hand down.]

Don't.

[his touch lingers on the backs of his fingers, warm. he fixes him with that gaze of his, too, eyes still burning like embers no matter how far he's taken out of his element. he signs as far as he can with one hand, but... eventually has to take his first back to complete his thought.]

'You will be strong again. I will make you.'

[he watches the signs, Zhas' hands, for a little longer than he probably should. thinking and grateful and conflicted.

he feels like a bone that's been forcefully broken and reset once already. he's in better shape than he would have been otherwise, but still not the one he should be. he might need the whole process over again, and he's impatient about it.

he wants to be better.

finally, he looks up and nods.]

'You've gotten smaller.' [the alcohol starts making its way back into his signs at this, and he lazily knocks his knuckles against Coil's shoulder--he means it to tease, a little smirk playing on his face.] 'We will train as soon as you're on my ship.'

'I'm taller'

[as if that really explains it. a subtly defensive, offended expression rides along with the signs, but he's less upset by that than anything else said so far tonight.

it doesn't feel normal, but maybe something slowly closer to it.]

[and he's able to nod along with it without getting annoyed or feeling bad about it. it's just a little thing. he signs that it's good.]

'That means your hair will grow too.

[another frown, and he self-consciously drags a hand down the back of his own hair. like maybe he can hide it.

he nods, though. he's not happy with it either.]

'Who cut it?

[they must have known what they're doing. maybe that's what's throwing him off--Coil could almost be confused for a normal person, with hair cut like that.]

[he's been cleaned up, which is something he wouldn't have asked for--out of convenience or any other reason.

he shrugs one shoulder, and only offers vague signs]

'some guy'

[that's a pain. he rolls his eyes, looking back out at the crowd to try and think his way through it. social finesse was not his strong suit before he got drunk. all the same, eventually he looks over for one more question.]

'Is there anything I need to know?'

[he doesn't want to show how uncomfortable the question makes him, but there's a delay... and in that delay, he's caught rubbing the back of his neck for a second. he's more expressive now, whether he likes it or not.

it isn't a big change, but it's enough to notice.

so, when he shakes his head, it's a clear lie to Zhas.]

[he'd relate to being more expressive; having crewmates he has to interact with has done a number on him already. it betrays Coil here and now, though, and Zhas sets his jaw against the obvious lie.

he stares at him just long enough to let him know that he's not convinced. at all.]

'It's my birthday. You can tell me later.'

[he busies himself with his coat, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. he signs with one hand still holding it.]

'Work on your face in the meantime.'

[it's not like him to make excuses, but he feels justified in this case. complaining about someone else makes him feel a little less at fault with everything.

with his face set with a touch of defiance, he just signs out--]

'they didn't know signs'

[and hopes that explains it]

[he makes a noise--one of his little growls that substitute actual conversation. he lights his cigarette, manages not to burn his fingers. when he's done, he signs again.]

'They're very irritating.'

[the words are an understatement, but it's the closest thing he's got.]

Edited 2014-11-10 06:53 (UTC)