limbical: kocho_15 (WHICH FEELS LIKE POCKETCAT)
dirty degenerate furry ([personal profile] limbical) wrote in [community profile] citylogs2023-07-19 05:43 pm

[open] a cat's the only cat that knows how to swing

WHO: Daan ([personal profile] limbical) & YOU!
WHAT: July catch-all. Event, non-event prompts, you know.
WHERE: A bank! A restaurant! Maybe the clinic!
WHEN: J-July
WARNINGS: Severe depression, alcoholism. CSA mention in the thread with Midnight, marked.



A. IN THE VAULT [event]

[With the possibility of a new place to explore reveals itself, it's only natural for the floodgates to open; there are plenty of people here, and Daan is but one of them, nosily investigating for any clues. Though typical as ever, there is nothing to reveal whatever secrets the city holds, or whoever their captors might be. No useful files, no names, nothing.

Then there are the keys.

Sorting through them is interesting at first, as he recognizes some of the names that they go to. They're names to people currently in the city. Which also means...

Yes. There is one for him too. Daan | DaniΓ«l is embossed on the tag, clearly indicating him. It's bothersome enough that the name he goes by mostly is there, but the other...

He scowls, plucks his key free without a word, and marches into the vault to find where it belongs. There are rows of safety deposit boxes, but finding the corresponding one isn't much effort at least. He opens it, and inside is a note. Something or other about sharing, which he pockets for now in case it does end up important. But the item inside...

How could he forget?

A little box is inside, which Daan delicately pulls out, his eye wide. His shoulders bunch, and he swiftly walks to a corner, as if he could steal the semblance of privacy. Lips quiver as he opens the box, revealing inside polished tools for sewing.

The sight of it almost seems to bring Daan pain and he shuts the box swiftly before he presses his forehead against the wall, shaking his head to himself. He always tries to keep his mind even and cool, even if it is a pretense, but it seems that this has successfully shaken him to his core. Absently, he whispers to himself:]


How the hell did they get this?

[And then the vault door slams shut, jolting him out of his thoughts.]


B. DRINKS ARE ON ME [post-vault]


[He couldn't rightfully call these his worst days. After all, Daan has lived through those; he's remarked that his time in this city so far has been more like a vacation in comparison, and frankly that is still true. However, that doesn't mean he isn't still miserable.

The weight of the little wooden box in his pocket indicates as such.

In one of the restaurants, Daan is behind the bar, mixing a drink for himself. By how much the whiskey bottle has been emptied certainly indicates how many he's had, but he isn't in the mood to stop. The bank and the dreams he's been cursed with both haunt him alike, along with everything else he's ever put up with, and he's had enough.

He almost misses the Pocketcat's ever closing in steps and rotten promises.

When you enter, he forms a smile that looks too sharp, almost cruel as he lifts a glass in some toast that only he knows.]


Shall I pour one for you? [And then he proceeds to drain his glass.]


C. WILDCARD [choose your own adventure]

[If you'd like a specific prompt, hit me up and I'll make it happen!]
unrequite: (10)

[personal profile] unrequite 2023-07-20 10:53 pm (UTC)(link)
To you.

[ Midnight raises his glass to Daan and takes a sip... then another. He looks in his glass, eyebrow raised a bit. ]

You're not wrong. This is lovely. [ ... ] You'd give many a bartender a run for their money.

[ It's a compliment. He means it. It's not all that common to be more than one thing at once. ]
unrequite: (05)

[personal profile] unrequite 2023-07-20 11:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Midnight hums, continuing to nurse his drink. It really is perfect. Among one of the best he's ever tasted. ]

It bears mentioning that whatever you became, it ended with you here, in a position to help me. When it comes to what you could or should have been, I like that you're here now. I'm a bit biased, in that respect.

[ It's a bit merciless, relies on his ignorance, but still completely honest. Without knowing more, what else can Midnight be but grateful? ]
unrequite: (15)

[personal profile] unrequite 2023-07-21 12:47 am (UTC)(link)
[ — Ah. So he did notice. Midnight looks at Daan for a moment, single visible eye wide in surprise, before looking down and back at his drink. ]

I'm very capable of getting everything I could possibly want, doctor. Practicably speaking, this includes you.

[ Absolutely, maddeningly self-assured. Psychopathic, honestly.

Midnight takes up his drink and sips again. ]


I'd like another one of these, though. And your company. [ Midnight looks up at Daan again. ] How do I get that, doctor? Tell me. I've many options, but I'm open to suggestions.

[ The timbre of Midnight's voice is calm, his eye contact is steady. He's telling the honest truth.

(He has many, many options. The old ways. Options that smell like fear and blood on mountaintops.) ]
unrequite: (05)

[personal profile] unrequite 2023-07-21 04:31 am (UTC)(link)
You're accusing me of poor taste, doctor. I actually wouldn't argue that.

[ Midnight leans in as well, elbow on the bar, hand flat as he presses down for balance. ]

But I think you want me to know exactly who you are. At the rate I'm going, it's inevitable, isn't it? Might as well rip off the bandage. My little illusion of you can't last forever.

[ ... ]

Well? Go on. Make the worst thing happen. Please.
unrequite: (04)

cw: the therapist part of being a slutty therapist isn't fun, aka self harm mention, not graphic

[personal profile] unrequite 2023-07-21 07:55 am (UTC)(link)
[ If the question is, "Would Midnight love me, even with this?", the answer is: of course. But he sees these things a bit differently. He understands that he does, has always needed to pick through the contents of a heart carefully in response to his deep pit of wretched, consuming desire to give. Less for their comfort, more because Midnight knows that he can rip through hearts like a typhoon through rice paper. He doesn't have to try. He generally tries not to. (He fails, sometimes.) ]

Talk to me. Another mask. Put it on. Hurt me.

[ He's watching Daan with patient eyes, even if his words are rather steely. He's had people try to hurt themselves before, back when he hadn't realized how much people hurt when they spoke with him like this. He'd rather not repeat the experience of calling hospitals, patching up teethmarks and scratches, especially when one of only two doctors he knows personally in this city is standing in front of him. ]
unrequite: (05)

he will do that as soon as he unpacks his daddy issues, which will be (checks watch) Never

[personal profile] unrequite 2023-07-21 06:43 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's a lovely thing. Midnight pulls it toward him. One finger down, a deliberate move. He inspects it for a moment, watching the light glint off the metal. ]

And knowing nothing, I must assume that she deserved it.

[ Midnight looks at his doctor, but is otherwise completely still. ]

Or perhaps you deserve the guilt. The grief. Is that what you want me to say?

[ Because it's out there, now. He doesn't doubt that this is about the worst thing that could happen, but he's steeled for something beyond this. A fist. Teeth. Blood.

(Honestly, he's ready to snap them both out of this little drunken fugue, but he wants to make sure that he hasn't cut the heart out of this man first before he leaves. Because it's there. He sees it, or at least the remnants of it, even if Daan doesn't.) ]
unrequite: (15)

πŸ€‘πŸ‘

[personal profile] unrequite 2023-07-21 07:15 pm (UTC)(link)
[ There. Midnight lifts his finger, points at Daan's heart. ]

There. The part of you that still grieves. Even without answers, even when it no longer makes sense to linger, it grieves.

[ He drops his hand, puts it to his glass, and finishes his drink. ]

You were asking me what I saw. Now we both see it.

[ It takes this much to show one's heart to someone who is this determined to hide from it. If only such a demonstration was easy. Midnight wishes a lot of things were easy. ]
unrequite: (04)

it's enough for a clown car at least. a clown tandem bicycle. ✌️πŸ₯Ή

[personal profile] unrequite 2023-07-21 07:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, that too.

[ Midnight laughs, pushes his empty glass to the side, then peers at Daan. Drunk, tired, emotional. Midnight's bread and butter. He tries to treat them gently. Less like food items, more like people. (Does Daan need to lie down for a bit? Midnight has done more drunk herding than one might think, and there are plenty of booths available for a quick breather.) ]

I did my best not to lie, but I do apologize for speaking so lightly of your past. That wasn't my intention when I approached you tonight, believe me.

[ Midnight has quite a few thoughts about what Daan had to say, but discretion is the greater part of valor. Also, he's not in the habit of kicking a man while he's down. ]
unrequite: (05)

πŸ’€ honk... honk.....

[personal profile] unrequite 2023-07-23 02:30 am (UTC)(link)
[ Another smile. It is, indeed, another "yes" kind of smile. ]

I'll be better prepared, next time.

[ There's so much to say, but none of it fixes anything, even if words could. Mostly, it all comes off as confessions. Divulgences of a type only guilty men carry with them.

But there's something to be said about a guilty man. One that sees guilt for what it is, anyway. Better than one who doesn't understand the weight of their own sorrow at all. ]


Have you been drinking water?

[ Is what he says instead. It's necessary, at least. ]
unrequite: (12)

[personal profile] unrequite 2023-07-23 09:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, I'd drink to this being a one time event, but, ah...

[ He gestures to his glass, then... Gets on the bar. Just sort of shifts forward, turns and hops up there, sitting and reaching for the glasses backward, looking around for the water dispenser. Sorry if this was sacred ground, but Midnight is very used to getting exactly what he wants, when he wants, and what he wants is for his doctor to not turn into a kitty themed, liquor soaked raisin. ]

I'd like another drink with you at some point. I'd also like to talk to you about my mother.

[ — Ah. Midnight pauses, glass in hand, then cracks up. ]

Oh. I was doing so well.
unrequite: (10)

[personal profile] unrequite 2023-07-23 10:22 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Midnight's still laughing to himself, filling up a couple glasses of water for himself and Daan, but after he pushes Daan's toward him, he'll balance a bit, stick a hand in his pocket, and pull out a small, off-white envelope from his pocket, waving it in explanation. ]

Now, this had me in quite the state when Lan Xichan handed it off to me yesterday, but after the one time, I'd already had quite my fill of divulging my past to others. The past belongs to the past, and so on. I dropped it off at my place before running errands and thought nothing more of it... But it is from my mother, so I've had it in my pocket the whole day today.

[ Midnight slips off the bar and goes back to his stool, sticking the envelope back in his pocket. ]

I just cannot stop talking about her with everyone I've encountered. I rather think it's got some Arts to it. I'll be going home after this to drop it off, but you must understand that I don't usually lead into conversation topics about my mother. I do apologize.

Now, let's see...

[ Midnight hums, thinking. The easiest way to dispel this compulsion is to reveal at least one thing about the item that Midnight would rather his conversation partner not know. For Midnight, though, that's pretty much everything, so it's taking him a moment to come up with something specific. Yes, seriously, this is how Midnight figured out the secondary effect. He just does not talk about his past, ever, so narrowing down the culprit was pretty simple. ]
unrequite: (04)

[personal profile] unrequite 2023-07-24 01:08 am (UTC)(link)
[ Midnight's still smiling. When he sees his means of escape snipped away, one by one... Well, he at least has the grace to look away as the smile drops.

He honestly considers standing and leaving. It's not worth the mixed signals, much less Daan's ire, but the compulsion is there. Still... He picks up the water, drinks, then puts the glass down before speaking again. ]


This letter is one of several. At least, oh... thirty, I'd say. Twenty years' worth, more or less.

[ Midnight snorts, but it's out of derision this time. Inwardly directed. Stupid. A fool. The one he acts, but writ too large. ]

She really wanted me home. For twenty years... Not that I knew that.

[ Midnight drinks again, looks at the glass. Stupid. This couldn't be liquor now. He should've asked for another. ]

I couldn't bring myself to open them. Twenty years ago, I ran away from home. What's the point of reaching out after that long? What could we possibly still have in common? Nothing, really. So I never opened them. This is the last letter I got before leaving the country. Think I might've put it out with my burnables. Not sure how it got here.

[ ... So, some unopened letters, an estranged son, a runaway. Pretty standard fare, honestly. Midnight sucks at his teeth. It's not enough. Not enough for the compulsion, not nearly enough for a fair exchange. ]
unrequite: (15)

[personal profile] unrequite 2023-07-24 02:26 am (UTC)(link)
[ ... Midnight puts a hand over his mouth before he starts laughing. It'll just sound ghoulish at the point. ]

Because everything was perfectly all right at home, but I had fervent dreams of homelessness that ended in a red light district two weeks and six train tickets away from home.

[ As quick as that flame of anger flashes, it dies. ]

I got terribly lucky, by the way. Never ended up in bed with anyone I didn't choose for myself, in some way. Wasn't on the streets long enough for that.

[ ... Oddly enough, that's enough for the compulsion to break. Midnight grins, sharklike, as he feels it fade. There. City-mandated period of self-pity complete. Not even a scratch. It's like it never happened. ]

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