immortalpoet | SYNFLUX INBOX

It's for my photo wall! But a lot of people wound up liking copies of the photos, so I've been making sure they get them if they want.

[See, this is something he doesn't mind - there's a comfort to the hustle and bustle to the city that sits pleasantly with him. As much as he can't stand the City, there's something to the controlled chaos of a lived-in place that he naturally draws to. A place is only as much as the people who live there.]

[His own gaze casts over the options, rolling over signs, storefronts, gaggles of people. A nod is what he gives her, even as his own look is pensive.]

It has a night life. I suppose this place never sleeps. [A beat.] Anything in particular catch your eye?

[He's not picky. He almost never is.]

[ maybe he should learn to be a little picky. it'll make choosing gifts for him easier. ]

Nothing I wouldn't look out of place in...

[ but that's fun in its own way, though she knows she'll be sticking close to vergilius rather than hitting up the local hopefuls spotting a cute girl at her first bar. malkuth scrolls through the advertisements, her eyes glowing as the implants work, and traces the map that comes up when she clicks one. ]

There's one around the corner that offers live entertainment! I've been listening to people sing all month at my job, so it'll be nice to hear a professional.

[ someone who can actually sing... bless their hearts. at least there's not enough people to warrent arm holding, though malkuth's hand raises for it before dropping again.

leading the way... a place more like one of those jazz bars, lowlights and a focus on the stage; it's quaint compared to the flashy nature of others, but it has a healthy crowd of downtrodden loners and sincere enjoyers of song among the tables. there's a space for dancing, some couples knit close together as they sway, and malkuth watches them for a moment before scanning for an open spot and taking to the bar. ]

You order us something. I don't really know drinks.

Singing as they work, huh. If a..."bodyguard" like me did that, they'd be deemed a lunatic. Guess different strokes for different folks...

[Even in lively places like this, one must stand their guard - there is a tension in his shoulders as they move to the jazz bar, his gaze brightening for a moment as he casts it over the edges of the room and the people around. When it doesn't seem like any apparent threats stick out, he relaxes by a margin, only barely noticing the hand move up and down at her side.]

...It doesn't look off.

[His best attempt at reassurance, perhaps.]

[The request makes him look over at the bartender, thinking, before he draws their attention with a tap on the counter, speaking over his shoulder to her.]

You like sake, don't you. [And to the bartender:] Two ginger nama genshu, if you know it.

[He's settling back to grab a bar stool, taking a seat.]

I had it once upon a time. It has bourbon, if I remember correctly.

[ ... that is reassuring, actually, and she joins beside him with a small hop up onto hers as the bartender sets to work; even if they hadn't known it, a quick g**gle search solves all. ]

Some might say I liked the sake a little too much. [ but it was so good...

... maybe she can still see if netzach can enjoy it, even a little... maybe not to its full extent, but maybe he'd still like it... that can be something she does with him. would that be too informal? too casual? would it be awkward? the worries in her mind pile one after the other, her question comes a beat after it really should. ]

Do you like bourbon? Or anything in particular?

[The pause after her remark makes him wonder - she didn't seem to remember much about the last time they met. He ponders if she had a sense of what happened after the sake settled in. The brief moment of warmth, underneath the cherry blossom petals.]

[He shrugs his shoulders back, trying to keep the swell of awkwardness at bay.]

No particular preference. I do like when its strong. Packs a punch, so to speak.

The Red Mist was the same way, when she drank at all. You'd never know if it affected her though... that woman really has a pokerface.

[ strong drinks, ones that pack a punch. she hopes she can remember to write that down on his page along with the other things she's learned about him tonight. malkuth turns in her seat to watch the performance, the drinks from before finally settling from the movement over, the new resting period with its own form of intoxication in the atmosphere.

it's a nice feeling. reminds her of the sundappled blanket during hanami, sake warm down her throat and more relaxed than she'd felt in a bit. it's life, maybe. seeing faces enjoying the simple pleasures in the world around them, rather than be worried over the looming threat. ]

Actually, you're the same way... I would've never realized you'd gotten drunk too if you didn't tell me earlier.

From what I know of her, that sounds fitting.

[He asks himself whether Malkuth is unconsciously comparing him with his predecessor in her mind - which gets answered very directly by her follow-up. Huh. He feels like he's getting some vague picture of the woman in his own mind the more he interacts with Malkuth. She sounds like someone practically cut from the same cloth as him. What sins did she bear? Did she suffer the weight of them like he did?]

[He sighs, rubbing over his neck as he brushes up against his earring, before letting his hand fall back to his own lap.]

It takes a lot to get me like that. Good metabolism or whatever. Besides, you know me, already. I wouldn't have it written on my forehead or anything like that.

[He pauses, glancing at the dancing couples.]

Do you sing yourself, Miss Weiss...?

[ it was the way she'd gotten him in the first place, and it's...

... comforting, in a way. there's plenty of difference, and she appreciates those since they make him him, but the parts that are the same ease the loneliness she's been feeling as of late. maybe that's why she's been drawn to him beyond a simple desire to know. ]

Not really. I've tried it a couple of times, but it...

[ ... a shrug. ]

It doesn't feel like it comes out right? I don't know how to explain it. Hearing people sing is nice, but I'm not used to my own voice in that way, I guess. You won't be seeing me in a karaoke room anytime soon.

[ it still sounds metallic in a way she can't forget, that she won't be able to with her secret coworkers around. though unintentional, they won't let her. ]

Do you like music?

I see.

[Would anyone be used to their own voice after multiple lives? Are you the same after everything? Does death change you?]

[He would assume the last answer to the last question is a yes. But probably he'd experience it different from her. Would he even be happy if he was brought back after death?]

[He lets out a little slow breath between his teeth.]

...I suppose its alright. [He recalls a young lady humming "Silent Night" under her breath. She hums it because she's happy.] I don't have much time nowadays to stop and listen to it.

[ the ship of theseus is still a ship. it was designed and made to look a certain way, and it remained that way in appearance; elijah had long brown hair and a perpetual smile, a determined and hardworking attitude that caused her death. malkuth retained the latter, the former forgotten and then remembered as the world came down around her for the second time in her two lives. malkuth has long brown hair and a perpetual smile, a determined and hardworking attitude.

malkuth is accepting the drink that is placed behind her and vergilius, sipping at it with a happy, surprised hum. this is. a drink that is going to be going fast. she can already tell. ]

Well, now you do! It's easier than ever with these implants of ours, Mr. Gaze, but it can be a little much at times. I kind of like the vibe they have here.

[ the rare human performers, because machines can do a lot, they can replace a lot, but they can't quite capture the soul and sound that humans manage with their music and voices. it isn't their fault; humans are the ones who keep them just out of reach of that possibility, for good reason. ]

I haven't really listened to a lot myself though, but some popular things in the karaoke place I work... are poppy, bouncy songs, old "classics" as they call them, ballads, and things you can belt. And the occasional group of people who come in to sing songs from shows they like.

I really don't like these implants...

[He mutters. He already has implants, already has a vivid red gaze he's literally named after. And here they went, placing things inside his head, against his will. It makes him feel violated, like he's some specimen on a table readily available to use at anyone's whim.]

[In the City, even here, maybe that's all he is. A body. A walking corpse.]

[Always used.]

Ballads and poppy songs...hrm. [He draws his attention back to her for the moment, his eyes glowing in the lower light.] I suppose sad songs...aren't your vibe, so to speak.

No more than something energetic might be yours, I'd guess.

[ she kicks her feet to the mellow beat, leaning against the bar. ]

They're not popular to sing, so I don't get to hear them often... but I think they're pretty human. Some of the belters are pretty sad, you know, and they always seem to come out a little lighter when their hour or three is up! Misery's better with company, right?

[ or so it goes, and music does the same thing. malkuth sips at her drink, then rolls her head back at vergilius,

caught, for a moment, by the light's effect on his eyes, her cheeks shading red thanks to the alcohol settling warmly in her body. a remarkably beautiful crimson, just as she'd written. ]

... They're sort of comforting, in a way.

What can I say. These days, happy songs aren't in my repertoire.

[The only happy songs were those by the children, or by his crew after a successful job and a fun drunken celebration, and those voices have died out. He feels the more he thinks on them, the less he feels he remembers. Details are starting to become all the vaguer. It scares him. That's all he has left of them, those memories.]

[He hasn't drunk his drink, yet, even as it sits, solitary, on the counter next to him.]

With company...I don't know. I'm the type who'd rather be alone.

[She stares back at him - he holds her gaze, unbreaking, as if daring her to look away.]

[Her cheeks are vibrant. She feels alive in ways he feels he could never be again.]

Is that wrong of me...?

is this an actual wall

[ honestly. she doesn't know if she could look away even if she felt like it. they're not as close as... but still, something nags at the edge of her memory, pushed along by drink and remains just out of reach. her hand feels heavy against the cool glass. ]

... No, but I think it sounds rather lonely.

[ there's a difference in being alone, and being lonely. that's why someone could be surrounded by so many people who cared about them, who wanted the same thing, and that person would still feel like the only one in the world. grief has a way of isolating others.

they all had been, in their own ways. ]

I don't really like people seeing me miserable either, to be honest. I end up putting those feelings into something productive, since I don't see the point in dwelling on something I can't change. [ that's that, and this is this.

... something about roland, about age, and... her face furrows, trying to figure out what the clouded memory is. ] All we can do, is do what we're capable of. Am I making sense? I kinda feel like I'm just... saying stuff now.

[ maybe she is, a little. avoided quiet question of if she prefers being alone too, or if she likes to surround herself with like others. productive either way. ]

Well, it's photos being added to one of the walls in my room.
You can come see it, if you want.

[Of course it's lonely. He's spent too much time with himself not to be unaware of that. He craves the simplicity of what was. Even in this City, he can't have people around him to have, to hold, to keep. It would all be lost in the end. Every time he let the Sinners off the bus, there was that brief seize in his chest. If it all failed, if Dante was hurt...]

[Everyone becomes simply another puddle to add to the sea he'll drown himself in, by journey's end.]

[That is that, this is this. A phrase he didn't think suited Roland at all. Even so, it feels too flippant for something like this. Everyone suffered. They all had their own wells of pain. Malkuth too, for all her cheerfulness, must have sunk into it again and again. She already made it clear. A person who states she wanted to die is not someone who hasn't wandered through their own version of hell. Multiple for her, most likely.]

...No, you're making sense.

[Vergilius says, quietly. He imagines a hand reaching out, a warmth he keeps craving. What a pathetic beast he is.]

[A shake of the head. He should drink his drink. He feels like it'll burn through him and lay him open, though. His voice cracks a little.]

Do you think you're...happier around others? Or on your lonesome...?

... Around others. It's something she-- I always wanted, and why I think my first life went the way it did in the end.

[ people who saw what elijah did, who wanted to see what she did, who...

... ended up so far away, not a hand reaching out to anyone else. could anyone? after enoch had died, after carmen had begun to drown in her own guilt, could anyone have reached out? elijah's own had remained curled around her clipboard, her pen, and not a thought to it. had anyone thought to reach for her? she didn't see it if so, malkuth knows that.

her words continue, quiet in their pain. ]

I spent a lot of time alone before everyone else began to wake to their third life, actually. I had an Assistant who helped me fight and sort books, but I still felt lonely until the next Librarian woke up. Even if it wasn't... easy to connect, to reintroduce ourselves and find ways to pass the time when we weren't needed, it was still a relief to know he was there.

[ she remembers the grasping conversations, hands unable to stay idle, how until the library began to fill with life it was only a small comfort that yesod, netzach, and lastly hod had sat just above her. ]

I like to be around others. [ more decisive this time. ] But I'm fine if "others" is just a single person, like you.

[The first life, where she died.]

[How did she? No...perhaps he doesn't need to know. It feels like he's wandering too personally into her pond, here. He doesn't know exactly the depths of it. What feels deep may be deeper, still.]

[Her third life, also a quandary. Woken up, like from a long dream. It must have been tiring, he thinks. He's only lived one life and it feels enough for a hundred to have lived. He's glad for that, honestly - this is his burden to bear.]

[Which is why her last statement makes him ruefully smile.]

Like me? I'm hardly good company. [Even she must realize that. He's put up so many thorns that he hardly expects anyone to dig deeper. The thorns have sunk their way into his scalp for eons, it feels.] You need someone more lively, Miss Weiss.

You're good company.

[ and she means it. there's no doubt in her words, just a kind of open honesty that continues to bleed out. ]

It might sound silly, but you're the one of the only people from the City I don't feel lonely around. I've been missing my coworkers a lot... but not when I'm with you.

Ah.

[He doesn't know what to feel about that. It feels right. It feels wrong.]

[He reaches for his drink, without breaking his gaze, and takes a long sip. It does nothing to quell the feelings here, restless like burning butterflies.]

A replacement Kali, perhaps.

[ and she laughs at that, eyes closing habitually and cutting their gaze for a moment, until they open again with a shake of her head. ]

You wish. Reds... are really similar, but you could never, ever replace her, and I'd never, ever want you to. I'm reminded of her, but that doesn't mean you're a replacement -- it means that I'm used to the kind of person you are, even vaguely.

[ her hand feels heavy as she sets the half-gone drink down, a clumsy clink she barely registers. ]

It'd be unkind to you, to her, to treat you as one. [ it was cruel for angela to be sought as one, and yet rejected. ] I'm not lonely around you because we're the same.

...

[He drinks again. He wishes the alcohol could wipe it all away. The alcohol burns, even amongst the cool ice. His heart burns. He wishes for too much, and drowns himself for it, and he's done it for years because he's learned his lesson.]

Ha. [He manages to say, his voice almost a whisper.] How can that be? You're a duck. I'm a goose.

But we're both waterfowl.

[ with their wonderful oil that coats their feathers, that lets them escape the pond they're sat in rather than drown in it. malkuth finally turns her gaze back to the band amidst a new song, a sigh passing her lips. ]

Other birds couldn't choose to go with their flow even if they wanted to, you know. But... at the same time, I don't think we're special because of that. It's just why we help each other out.

[ to her, that's why. ]

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