interstellar5555 | Thistle and Weeds

1

[...Perhaps he was taking too long in the bathroom.

The shower was the only sound breaking the utter silence that befell Koumei's mind as he blindly stared at his own reflection in the mirror, not fully comprehending what he was seeing-- and knowing in his gut that this was more real than anything he had seen thus far. A vicious looking scar, starting under his ribcage and extending over his chest, was apparently his souvenir from a misspent night on the town celebrating Squalo's 23rd birthday. He had met with those strange men with the helmets, but he couldn't quite recall the details of what happened in his own drunken haze...

Now he knew why.

Eyes wide and his breath held as he thought over that battlefield and his overwhelming sense of surprise that dominated the scenario, he gave no thought to the notion that others might want to use the bathroom at 2 in the afternoon.

And the water was starting to go cold.

Perhaps knock? He needs it.]

2

[A distraction. That was what he needed and, while it wouldn't make anything right, it would certainly make the immediate moment a little more tolerable. Thus, Koumei took to the town to do a little shopping and freshen up his wardrobe for the spring. With his hair tied back into a messy braid and a wide brimmed hat upon his head, he felt like he had made a decent disguise for himself. The wide sunglasses added to it-- and helped hide his own emotion as he looked through the racks.

While he favored the boho prints and loose cuts, he knew he would need to find something a little different in order to keep people distracted from his new little problem. Scarves were part of the order of the day, as were smarter looking jackets to replace his loose hoodies and some button up shirts in fresher colors to replace the old.

Spring was a time of change-- and he certainly needed it.]

3

[Later in the evening, Koumei could be found at Brad's Diner nursing a thick, chocolatey milkshake as he poured his focus over his scattered notebooks and journals-- ostensibly songwriting, although it could have been something else. His writing at some point had slipped into something fluid and unrecognizeable that could have been construed as Arabic, but it was impossible to tell. The writer himself gave the change no thought, and the characters flowed from his pen as naturally as water flows down a stream.

He needed to get some of these details in concrete form, just in case he was misunderstanding something, and he needed to have it in a format that he could possibly share if he found that he needed a second opinion.

This was all too much for one mind to handle, even one as keen as his.]

[When you fall asleep all gross and sweaty and still wearing your makeup, a hot shower is more than necessary come the next day. Terry's usually quite patient, but right now he feels gross and he's already been waiting a little while, so. After another few minutes, he starts knocking on the door.]

You okay in there?

[--Right. Other people used this bathroom. Koumei had just been busy trying to recall the exact strategy he had been using at the moment when the javeline hit him, and figure out what exactly the puzzle he was looking to solve was at that moment.

Normally serious injuries are met with different emotions, not simple surprise and an odd sense of clarity.]

...I'm fine, [he said after a few moments' too long a wait, and easily shut the water off without even bothering trying to get his head wet.] Just fine, [he repeated, scanning around the small bathroom in his distraction. Where was a decent towel around here...?]

You sure?

[That doesn't seem like a normal amount of time for 'fine', but honestly Terry's finding it harder and harder to tell with Koumei.]

[But he's still concerned, so.]

[Koumei's not the only one at the diner. Garnet's there, too, staring at her own milkshake, her eyes emotionlessly glazed over in weariness. There's a paper in front of her. Several, actually. None of them look like anything she's written down.

She doesn't even notice Koumei as she lifts her head up to look around, before returning to her drink.]

Maybe had a little too much to drink last night....it was someone's birthday.

[But the lie was half-hearted. He was still distracted by looking for a proper towel...and he was glad to find that he was still wearing his pants.]

[Ah. There Garnet was, lost in her own mind again. Sucking on his milkshake for a moment, he found himself wondering once again about what she must have been thinking behind those eyes of hers...and kicking himself for not being able to protect her properly, like he knew that he should be able to.

Rationally, it wasn't his fault-- just like he could never have predicted certain movements on that battlefield without going against his core beliefs.

...At least watching her was a nice break from his feverish writing. The strange lettering system still hadn't really registered in his mind, and it was doubtful that it would unless something else came up. For the moment, wondering about Garnet was more interesting.]

[It took her some time to notice Koumei, to notice anyone else in the room, really. Once she does, though, Koumei will notice her sliding into the other side of his booth, quietly grasping her own drink.]

...How long have you been here?

A while, [he confessed, setting his pen aside as Garnet slid into the adjacent seat.] I needed to get out of the apartment a bit to think-- and not in a place where someone would encourage me to get drunk.

[Because he'd have been surprised if Garnet hadn't notice how frequently he'd been hanging out with Squalo in recent weeks. Manticore's apartment was a relatively safe place, where people wouldn't ask him questions or anything. ]

A good idea.

[Don't worry. She's noticed, even with everything happening. Her glass clinks on the table, papers rustle on her side, and there's something clearly on her mind.]

People tend to loosen their lips when they're drunk, after all. I'm sorry I didn't notice you, just now, though. Just a lot of paperwork I'm looking through.

[...One of those papers has a key attached to it.]

Edited 2016-03-14 20:37 (UTC)

...So it seems, [he said mildly, noticing the key. He shifted slightly, hand moving unconsciously to make sure his button up shirt stayed closed while he tried to peer at some of those papers.]

What's all this about?

[ Well, hello there. Squalo's on the other end of the store, since their tastes are pretty different and all - but he's also looking for simple shirts right now. Long-sleeved ones. He could get away with T-shirts under his longcoat, but with the changing season, it was going to be too warm for that soon. Maybe he could get a jacket. Would help with the whole hooligan-y look. ]

[ Of course he spots the horrifying fashion disaster that looks pretty much like a scarecrow come to life, and saunters over. Without bothering to announce his presence, he plucks the hat off Koumei's head -- oh yeah, he knows this hair -- and puts it back on. ]

I fucking knew it. You do realize that a disguise is a failure if you don't blend in, right?

[Koumei just blinks in surprise-- he hadn't expected to be found in this place so quickly, nonetheless by the likes of Squalo.]

Well, it's rather hard to do anything with this hair... but what's so wrong with it?

[He had been channeling the influence of a certain country star who was no longer in the city....complete with his horrible fashion sense. Truly, poor fashion taste must be genetic.]

...

[She ashamedly looks down at the question. Quietly tugging the paper out of the pile, she picks it up, staring at it. When she speaks, her tone is flat, no-nonsense.]

Lesedi came to me this morning.

I'm leaving the penthouse. This is the deed of ownership, for a new place out on the beach. A reward for what I've been doing; she told me to my face I'm one of the biggest stars Pride's currently got right now.

She didn't say anything about the rest of the band.

Edited 2016-03-15 23:33 (UTC)

...She didn't give you a choice.

[It wasn't a question, but a comment-- Garnet wouldn't be one to give up on what they had so easily, unless something else was in the picture.]

She...she let me choose where I could live.

[She knows that's not what he meant. It was an illusion of choice, really. But having Lesedi call her to a lounge, looking over properties, having those eyes stare at her as Garnet sifted through what was available--just being in her presence is terrifying, knowing what Lesedi does and can do. The CEO's shadow permeates all in Pride, and that includes Garnet.

This only shows her, the more she proves herself, the more she tries to save those she cares for, the more the shadow germinates within her soul. There is no choice. There never is. Never was.]

Also told me she enjoyed the album.

Edited 2016-03-16 00:08 (UTC)

...Her words are as hollow as her heart.

[Koumei shook his head, returning to his milkshake in hopes that the thick, chocolatey concoction would help dull some of the pain and frustration welling up in his heart.

It didn't.

Instead:]

She knows you're smart, and the effect you have on the people around you. She's trying to separate you from everyone else.

I know.

[It doesn't feel like it makes a difference, however.]

I wouldn't just abandon you guys. You know that, right?

I know.

[It didn't make any difference. Not when their state in the world was growing more precarious by the day. Not when he had confirmation that he was a dead man walking.]

I just don't like that she's forcing you to choose something you didn't want in the first place.

1

[Sabo is playing the guitar about as obsessively as he played his drums. Though he plays those, too, making sure the percussion is just right for any new drummer they might acquire or so the others know just where the beat is, he doesn't like to leave anything to chance. So feel free to find him anywhere in the Cosmic Indulgence penthouse on either instrument, paper coffee cups and notes strewn about him and a look of almost desperation on his face]

2

[likewise, Sabo can be found around Pride HQ, practicing. Sometimes the same riffs endlessly. On occasion he'll be looking out the window seeming morose with a bottle of beer dangling from his fingers. He's not usually one to mix up his stimulants and depressants, but he figures this is a special circumstance]

3 [When Sabo isn't playing around HQ, he is roosting nights at the Black Chat cafe, a blues and jazz bar that lets him come up on stage and entertain the crowd between sets. In this case, he's mostly on the guitar. Though he's wearing sunglasses and dressed all in black, ostensibly in disguise. When he gives over the stage to the band, he'll go to a little table b the shadows, eat pretzels and write write write in his notebook]

[for whatever choice, however, it's evident that Sabo's gotten into a fight --or rather is healing from it with a split lip, a couple of bruises-- and not a black eye but close enough. It's probably nothing, though, and you shouldn't worry about it]

Edited 2016-03-16 08:14 (UTC)

[Ace should probably not party crash random strangers' suites.]

[Old habits die hard.]

[OH LOOK IT'S THAT BLOND GUY WHO BOUGHT HIM RAMEN AND WOULDN'T LET HIM SET FIRE TO SHIT.]

[Let's kill him. :)]

[Okay maybe not that.]

[But he is going to say Hi.]

[....]

[In the way only Ace would.]

[Have you ever been tackled out of nowhere by a freaking jaguar?]

[Well you are now.]

[It's a new sensation.]

[Mind the coffee, because Ace might not.]

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I FOUND YOU!

[Healing is going to be difficult now that he knows where you live =\]

[Sabo is so startled by the intrusion his body reacts purely on instinct as he throws up an arm to block the incoming asshole behind him and feels the impact of his nose against his forearm until he crashes into the thankfully empty coffee cups.

He tries to regulate his breathing so as not to betray his jumping and blinks bemused at the guy before kicking back, using the guy's back as a foot rest and trying to resume what he was doing]

Hi.

[Ow.]

[Damn.]

[He hasn't been blocked so thoroughly since...]

[Whoever those former bffs were.]

You don't know karate do you?

[Fishman karate? No that's not a thing.... is it?]

I've got some aspirin if you want.

[He can put on some coffee too. Such a helpful child.]

Who did want this?

[She made them all believe it was what they wanted. But they know better now. What they want is not what they'll get.]

Koumei...its a really nice house. I won't be happy with the band if you guys don't visit, you know. Even if I'm not in the penthouse, I'm still a member.

Thistle and Weeds

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