![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
[ OPEN ] want to be free
WHO: Kim Kitsuragi (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aceslow) & YOU
WHAT: Various July activities -- both for the event (happy to receive items/memories too!) and for every day activities.
WHERE: Throughout the City; bank, shopping centres, parks, etc.
WHEN: Through til the end of July.
WARNINGS: Probable discussions regarding racism, loss, and the diaspora.
[ EVENT ] a. in the vault.
[ The deserted bank is an eerie place as it is. On a Lieutenant's salary, Kim barely has enough money to put in the bank as it is, let alone frequent one as extravagantly wealthy as this one; the minute he steps foot in it with his grubby boots and worn - though well-maintained - jacket, he feels immediately out of place, a sense of unease dogging his steps. His footsteps are loud in the echo chamber that is the grand hall. Eventually, he makes his way back to where the keys are, name after name etched on the side of the keychain. It's a trap if he's ever seen one. He hesitates, hand hovering just over the keys, brow furrowed. ]
This is almost certainly a trap.
[ Then, decisively, he yanks it off the wall, then glances behind him towards whoever his companion may be. ]
But it's the best lead we've got. You coming?
[ OOC NOTE: The item I've chosen concerns racism & the diaspora, please only respond to this prompt if those are subjects you're comfortable with! ]
[ EVENT ] b. out and about.
[ After the whole messy incident with the vault, Kim's taken to keeping the toy plane with him, burning a hole in his pocket. In all honesty, it's not something that brings him any solace, any comfort; if anything he feels desperately uncomfortable about it. But after everything, it feels almost sacriligious to leave it in the apartment he's hunkered down in, unguarded, unprotected, the sole personal possession next to the rest of the nondescript apartment. It feels equally as wrong to leave it in the bank where he had found it, as though abandoning it again means --
God, he doesn't know. He's not one for analyzing his own thoughts and feelings. Straight ahead, down his narrow, narrow path. That's how he's always been, how he'll always be. So he puts it firmly out of mind for the time being as he goes along his daily business, pacing about the city, investigating every nook and cranny with a fine tooth comb, and largely trying to keep himself busy, whether that's in the park, in a store, or even roaming once more through City Hall. Whatever public place you can think of, he's there. ]
[ OOC NOTE: We can wrap the event into any of the other prompts as well, but this one is intended for sharing of objects/memories! Please feel free to have your character share theirs first (or have only them share it, without that reciprocation) if you like; I never mind a backstory dump. :) ]
c. daily life (shopping / exercising / a midnight smoke).
[ With little else at his disposal other than the grim dawning realization that if he truly has to start making a functional life for himself here, Kim can be seen during daily life in the City taking what he needs.
Perhaps you find him in the supermarket or convenience store, the handle of his shopping basket nestled in the crook of his shoulder as he stares at the shelves with a light frown on his face, combing the shelves for this and that: salt, cabbage, meat and onions rank chiefly among his purchases, but it looks like he's working his way towards a very bland meal -- that, and he seems to be pretty concerned about getting really badly injured, if the amount of painkillers, bandages, and other first-aid goods are of any indication.
Or perhaps you find him in the park, jogging around its perimeter again, and again, and again, and again... he'll periodically stop, huffing and puffing more than he'd care to fess up to. There's nothing better to do around here, after all, and he feels a certain compulsion to remain in shape (though all embarassing stretches take place in the privacy of his own bedroom; an old man he may be to some here, but he's not old enough to start congregating in the park with the other seniors) to face whatever dangers he's convinced have yet to come. If you catch his eye, he'll nod in greeting with a small smile, wiping the sweat off his brow, suddenly self-conscious. ] Afternoon. Pity there's no gym in this place.
[ Or maybe you're another night owl, coming across Kim leaning against a wall, silhouetted by the street lamps above, staring contemplatively off into the distance as he lights a cigarette. Before he takes a single drag, he takes a deep breath, as though even contemplating his cigarette brings some measure of serenity to his soul. He takes that first drag like an addict does; savouring it, hoping it never comes to an end. But as he blows out a large plume of smoke, he'll look your way, nodding in greeting. If you're clearly of age and look interested, he'll extend the cigarette carton in your direction, asking, ] Want one?
d. weapon creation.
[ It's been long enough that Kim has gathered the fact that all of their weapons have been forcibly taken from them, right down to the blade attachment in his poor multi-tool. With just one glimpse of Kim, it's easy to see that he's not a man who's used to getting into physical altercations all-too often, preferring to rely on the security of his firearm, but it's not as though he can make a gun.
Besides, this isn't purely for self defense. Rather, it's an experiment: if weapons are so highly prohibited, then is the creation of them also prohibited? Will he wake cuffed like that fellow on the network behind him? It's a small punishment, as punishments go, so Kim decides to risk it, heading to park as the sun begins to wane, long shadows cast over the entire area. After gathering some of the natural resources around the park, as well as a few helpful items lifted from shops here and there, he sits cross-legged on the grass and gets to work, beginning by taking some kitchen utensils and industriously hacking away at a particularly sturdy branch to attempt to make a fine point.
From his grumbling, it's not going particularly well. He could really use a hand. ]
Ugh. I could really use my damn knife right about now.
e. wildcard!
[ Wildcard! Feel free to make up your own prompt - Kim can be found out and about the City at large - and I'm happy to roll with it! Feel free to brainstorm with me on my plotting post or hit me up on plurk! I'd be happy to write custom starters as well. ]
aceslow) & YOUWHAT: Various July activities -- both for the event (happy to receive items/memories too!) and for every day activities.
WHERE: Throughout the City; bank, shopping centres, parks, etc.
WHEN: Through til the end of July.
WARNINGS: Probable discussions regarding racism, loss, and the diaspora.
[ EVENT ] a. in the vault.
[ The deserted bank is an eerie place as it is. On a Lieutenant's salary, Kim barely has enough money to put in the bank as it is, let alone frequent one as extravagantly wealthy as this one; the minute he steps foot in it with his grubby boots and worn - though well-maintained - jacket, he feels immediately out of place, a sense of unease dogging his steps. His footsteps are loud in the echo chamber that is the grand hall. Eventually, he makes his way back to where the keys are, name after name etched on the side of the keychain. It's a trap if he's ever seen one. He hesitates, hand hovering just over the keys, brow furrowed. ]
This is almost certainly a trap.
[ Then, decisively, he yanks it off the wall, then glances behind him towards whoever his companion may be. ]
But it's the best lead we've got. You coming?
[ OOC NOTE: The item I've chosen concerns racism & the diaspora, please only respond to this prompt if those are subjects you're comfortable with! ]
[ EVENT ] b. out and about.
[ After the whole messy incident with the vault, Kim's taken to keeping the toy plane with him, burning a hole in his pocket. In all honesty, it's not something that brings him any solace, any comfort; if anything he feels desperately uncomfortable about it. But after everything, it feels almost sacriligious to leave it in the apartment he's hunkered down in, unguarded, unprotected, the sole personal possession next to the rest of the nondescript apartment. It feels equally as wrong to leave it in the bank where he had found it, as though abandoning it again means --
God, he doesn't know. He's not one for analyzing his own thoughts and feelings. Straight ahead, down his narrow, narrow path. That's how he's always been, how he'll always be. So he puts it firmly out of mind for the time being as he goes along his daily business, pacing about the city, investigating every nook and cranny with a fine tooth comb, and largely trying to keep himself busy, whether that's in the park, in a store, or even roaming once more through City Hall. Whatever public place you can think of, he's there. ]
[ OOC NOTE: We can wrap the event into any of the other prompts as well, but this one is intended for sharing of objects/memories! Please feel free to have your character share theirs first (or have only them share it, without that reciprocation) if you like; I never mind a backstory dump. :) ]
c. daily life (shopping / exercising / a midnight smoke).
[ With little else at his disposal other than the grim dawning realization that if he truly has to start making a functional life for himself here, Kim can be seen during daily life in the City taking what he needs.
Perhaps you find him in the supermarket or convenience store, the handle of his shopping basket nestled in the crook of his shoulder as he stares at the shelves with a light frown on his face, combing the shelves for this and that: salt, cabbage, meat and onions rank chiefly among his purchases, but it looks like he's working his way towards a very bland meal -- that, and he seems to be pretty concerned about getting really badly injured, if the amount of painkillers, bandages, and other first-aid goods are of any indication.
Or perhaps you find him in the park, jogging around its perimeter again, and again, and again, and again... he'll periodically stop, huffing and puffing more than he'd care to fess up to. There's nothing better to do around here, after all, and he feels a certain compulsion to remain in shape (though all embarassing stretches take place in the privacy of his own bedroom; an old man he may be to some here, but he's not old enough to start congregating in the park with the other seniors) to face whatever dangers he's convinced have yet to come. If you catch his eye, he'll nod in greeting with a small smile, wiping the sweat off his brow, suddenly self-conscious. ] Afternoon. Pity there's no gym in this place.
[ Or maybe you're another night owl, coming across Kim leaning against a wall, silhouetted by the street lamps above, staring contemplatively off into the distance as he lights a cigarette. Before he takes a single drag, he takes a deep breath, as though even contemplating his cigarette brings some measure of serenity to his soul. He takes that first drag like an addict does; savouring it, hoping it never comes to an end. But as he blows out a large plume of smoke, he'll look your way, nodding in greeting. If you're clearly of age and look interested, he'll extend the cigarette carton in your direction, asking, ] Want one?
d. weapon creation.
[ It's been long enough that Kim has gathered the fact that all of their weapons have been forcibly taken from them, right down to the blade attachment in his poor multi-tool. With just one glimpse of Kim, it's easy to see that he's not a man who's used to getting into physical altercations all-too often, preferring to rely on the security of his firearm, but it's not as though he can make a gun.
Besides, this isn't purely for self defense. Rather, it's an experiment: if weapons are so highly prohibited, then is the creation of them also prohibited? Will he wake cuffed like that fellow on the network behind him? It's a small punishment, as punishments go, so Kim decides to risk it, heading to park as the sun begins to wane, long shadows cast over the entire area. After gathering some of the natural resources around the park, as well as a few helpful items lifted from shops here and there, he sits cross-legged on the grass and gets to work, beginning by taking some kitchen utensils and industriously hacking away at a particularly sturdy branch to attempt to make a fine point.
From his grumbling, it's not going particularly well. He could really use a hand. ]
Ugh. I could really use my damn knife right about now.
e. wildcard!
[ Wildcard! Feel free to make up your own prompt - Kim can be found out and about the City at large - and I'm happy to roll with it! Feel free to brainstorm with me on my plotting post or hit me up on plurk! I'd be happy to write custom starters as well. ]
no subject
[ He picks a bottle up anyway, the sort of drink he usually goes for -- something dark and brown and strong. One could say it's his favourite, but that's not accurate. The real truth of the matter is that he had been young and insecure and had decided that his signature drink would be one as masculine as possible, as though to prove himself. After that, he had just gotten used to it.
And Kim is nothing if not a man of habit. In short order, he slides two glasses onto the bar, dropping an ice cube in each one, and filling them with two fingers of scotch. ]
Santé. [ Cheers. ]
Good for you. [ It could sound like a platitude - it is a platitude - but Kim sounds genuinely pleased for him, that he was able to move on. ] A landship -- what is that, exactly? A vessel that has been permanently beached?
no subject
[ Midnight raises his glass in return, a toast of his own, and drinks, feeling his throat numbing as it goes down. Perhaps he enjoys alcohol now, but he started with his own inadequacies about liquor. Perhaps not in the same way, but in the same spirit. Trying to live up to an expectation. Survival.
He sets his glass down, sighing. Numb. It's a wonder he's kept himself mostly from alcoholism. Too much to do. (In its own way, the work has always been its own kind of numb.) ]
Mm? Oh no. [ Midnight waves his hand, grinning easily. This is a much lighter topic, one that he's still getting used to having to explain, but is far more enjoyable. ] A landship travels across land, much as a regular sort of ship sails the coast. Treads instead of a sail and rudder, like a gigantic tank. My company's landship is rather sizable, given that it's a vessel funded by the corporation, but it's really nothing compared to the nomadic cities.
no subject
His expression brightens with earnest curiosity as Midnight continues to explain. Kim has long since been a lover of anything mechanical. His specialty is in automobiles, of course (it's the only thing he can get his hands on), but he's been known to stop and gawk at the cranes he walks past on the docks on a regular basis, his eyes lighting up every time they alight on a new mechanical monstrosity. The idea of a massive tank is as exciting as it is outlandish. ]
A gigantic tank? And nomadic cities? I've never heard of such a thing before. For what purpose? [ He shakes his head. ] I've never even seen an ordinary tank in person before.
[ If he did, it would mean war had come to Revachol.
He'd still like to see one, though. ]
no subject
[ Midnight shrugs, turning his glass slightly, watching the light glint off the ice. ]
They move because they must. I'm assuming that the cities of your isola are permanent settlements, then? With no great natural disasters once every few years that necessitate the relocation of a metropolitan area within a month or so. No Catastrophes, as it were.
[ The idea that permanent cities exist is just as odd to Midnight, although he can see, historically, how those things came to be. Pre-Catastrophe era, he's perfectly aware that there were civilizations that built without fear of the threat of Originium hanging over their heads. It's just not the current reality in Terra, and he's had to get used to the fact that he can look up at a sky that looks so dramatically different from his own and know that this, for some, is normal. ]
no subject
[ Kim trails off, eyes gleaming with more fascination than they strictly ought to, considering the fact that Midnight is talking about something born of the necessity of absolute catastrophe and not a science project. Kim understands that, truly, he does... but he's the sort of man who will stop in the middle of the street, attention ensnared by an ordinary construction machine. His elders thought he would grow out of it one day, when he was young, but his passion had only became more voracious when given a paycheck to feed it with. ]
Khm. Not to belittle the natural disasters, of course. I'm only glad that your people found a way around it. [ His finger taps against the glass, smearing the condensation dripping down it. ]
All of our cities are permanent settlements, yes. We don't have the technology for any sort of nomadic city. Even the cellular phone given to us is well beyond anything we have access to. Though, in truth, even if we could move... there is nowhere to move to. Most habitable areas have already been colonized. [ He shrugs. ] The Pale has already spread to everything else.
[ The Pale -- he says it freely, without weight, as commonplace as someone saying the ocean may be. He has not yet spoken to anyone about the structure of their world. To his knowledge, every world has to reckon with the Pale. Any other reality is beyond foreign to him. ]
no subject
[ The things humanity does to survive... Well, no matter. Midnight was never a philosopher or a scholar of ethics. He's just happy to be alive. ]
The Pale...? Is that some sort of dead zone?
[ Immediately, that strikes of a situation where part of the world has been taken by something insurmountable. Perhaps some sort of permanent radiation of some sort...? Honestly, after some conversations he's had with the people here, Midnight's realized that his assumptions about what is possible are laughably narrow. (It took him a very long time, for example, that the sky here just... looks like that.) ]
no subject
[ Kim pauses, mouth agape for a moment. He shakes it off. ] I've grown accustomed to the idea of different worlds, of non-humans and magic and space travel, but somehow it never occurred to me that something like the Pale could be unique to my own world...
[ It is reality as he knows it. The most fundamental part of reality, he thinks, the one thing that is constant whether he wants it to be or not: after the world, the pale; after the pale -- the world again> He shakes his head with a wry smile. ]
No doubt your moving cities and your natural disasters are very much the same for you. The Pale is a geological phenomena that covers most of the world -- my world. It is, euh... anti-matter, they call it. And terribly dangerous for one's mind. It contains the entirety of human memory within it.
[ Kim shrugs, taking another sip of his drink. It makes him uncomfortable to think about. There is a 2mm hole in his beloved Revachol. It is growing. ]
Travelers are limited to six days of exposure a year. Any more than that, and things become compromised. Not a very pleasant topic, I'm afraid.
no subject
[ He frowns, digesting the concept. This concept is something far beyond Midnight's comprehension, but only because it's not an idea he's encountered in all his books. (Space travel and concepts of astrophysics and particle physics are in their very infancy in Terra... once again, there are some very specific obstacles in the way.)
But a world plagued by human memory... Midnight isn't aware of it yet, but the Catastrophes of Terra do bear certain similarities to the dangers of the Pale. ]
You're correct, though. The sky aside, the next assumption I had about this place was that it too was mobile. The idea that we may be fully landbound in such a metropolitan area... That was quite a lot for me to consider. Still is, if you'll allow me some honesty.
Still... [ Midnight takes a sip of his liquor, then pulls the bottle to him for another fifth. ] I'd say that, given the shape of this world, in that we're trapped within certain impassable boundaries... I believe the only terrestrial obstacles we have is the ocean, and that which lies underneath the waves. Catastrophes and hot zones aside, we've full reign of the land. To be fully trapped into a space... No wonder you lot call them isola. Those are some terrible obstacles, not something one overcomes lightly.
[ Not that he'd ever bothered with thinking about Catastrophes outside the occasional migration lockdown. His life had revolved around... other things. ]
no subject
[ He thinks about it. Then, almost sheepishly, he removes his blue notebook from his jacket pocket and scribbles a brief note in it. If Midnight catches a glimpse at the writing inside, he'll see that contrary to Kim's fastidious appearance, his handwriting is hurried and looping, nearly illegible. He snaps the notebook closed again. ]
I wouldn't immediately discount it as a possibility. There's something keeping this place isolated. I can almost buy it being made to move more than anything else. A theory to keep in mind.
[ Not that speculation was the point of this conversation at all. Still, sometimes he just can't help himself. ]
But I had made similar assumptions of my own, about why this place is the way it is. A part of me simply assumed that the boundaries have something to do with the Pale, only receding instead of encroaching... [ He shakes his head. ] Ah, well. For the best that it's not. [ He takes another sip of his drink, lets it linger down in his chest. ] To be honest, I don't think about it much. The Pale. It's just a reality of the world as I know it. I think about it as much as I would the sky, the sea, the oxygen I breathe, the dirt under my boots. I would assume it's much the same for you, save for when natural disasters knock at your own doorstep.
no subject
[ All right, Midnight does lean a bit for a peek — maybe a bit more than a peek, he's nosy and bad at catching certain social cues at the worst of times — but leans back into his own space and smiles when the notebook closes, not pushing one way or another. It's interesting. As an avid note-taker himself, he's interested in the notes of others. What lovely thoughts have taken root in that stubborn little head? If nothing else, escorting has taught him that his insatiable curiosity about others is more of an asset than it is something to hide. ]
As for the boundaries... Who knows? Perhaps it is a bit like the Fade. Can't say I'd like to find out, but for science... Well, there are many things I'd like to learn, and I wouldn't mind spending my interest on pushing our boundaries, as it were.
[ Midnight grins. Is this a joke? He doesn't seem tipsy enough to pop out of his seat and explore, but it's the sort of ambiguous statement that has resistance built into it if you look hard enough. (Most do not look hard enough.) ]
I do hate the idea of becoming too complacent, anyhow. I like my freedom. But how does one communicate resistance to such fastidious jailers? They're so perfectly mysterious, you know... Their efforts to stay temptingly out of grasp would be very attractive, you know, if they had any mind to leverage it.
[ ... Does he contextualize every life scenario with flirting? It's more likely than you think! ]
no subject
Midnight's constant allusions to flirtation seems almost second nature to him, though he had just confessed that he had once been a shy, retiring sort. You just get used to it, Kim figures. It creates a false intimacy as quickly as it creates distance, putting space between your heart and the ones who feel should own it. He had felt the same way watching Harrier stumble around with the Smoker, a fellow sex worker, so quick with his gentle flirtations and his coy remarks that they never really managed to get anything of use out of him. A professional entertainer knows how to couch dangerous things in palatable terms. ]
To be perfectly frank, I prefer to be the one playing hard to get. I don't care for their attempts at it, [ he says lightly, intending to give as good as he gets... though coming from him, it's a little more comical, and he knows it if that twist of his mouth is any indication. He's not lying, though. ] Much too obvious, if you ask me.
[ Obvious, but not, all at once. They play at being accessible with their little surveys and their little greetings, but there's a wall between them and their captors. ]
But not obvious enough. It would be nice if we knew where a camera or two were, at least. [ He pauses. ] I did meet someone who made it out, by the way. Out-of-bounds, I mean, where we just get turned right back around. I didn't manage to get much out of him, and he's since disappeared from this place, but it is possible.
no subject
He curls around his drink, resting his head on his hand. He really is far too beautiful and interesting to put too much thought into escape... But it's not as though he's avoided thinking about the topic at all.
He smiles at Mr. Kitsuragi. The sort who understands the game well enough, at least. ]
Did he manage to actually return to his rightful world, or are we working on making that bit stick?
[ Drinking with company. This is something that feels comfortable, at least. Midnight's terrible at drinking by himself. His mind tends to wander. ]
Although, if they have the means to draw us back, giving that freedom seems to enforce an illusion of control rather than any real path toward a solution. It would take a bit more testing, though...
[ Midnight shrugs. ]
It's a pity. We would have been better served if someone from the R&D department in my world had been taken rather than me. I'm simple rank and file.
no subject
[ He drums his fingers on the counter. At the time, it had sounded like the Pale. Now... he's not so certain. It fills his heart with the same unease either way. Being trapped here is awful, but at least it's a relatively known quantity. Kim may consider himself a self-sufficient sort of person, but to be alone in isolation for hours, days, weeks at a time is something else entirely. ]
But believe me, I've had the same thought about myself. My education is... [ He wiggles one hand. He considers himself an educated man, as far as self-education goes, but he's aware that it's no substitute for a formal education. A formal education Midnight is lacking as well. ]
Maybe that's on purpose? [ He raises a brow at him. ] Can't have any other world's intellects solving this mystery right away.
no subject
When you put it that way, perhaps there is some chance of escaping this place, or at least getting down to the bottom of this mystery. After all, if the only barrier to a solution here are able minds to engineer it, it follows that a solution exists.
[ ... Midnight snorts, then starts laughing. ]
Or perhaps that's wishful thinking on my part at the expense of the intelligence of the current populace. I may have just insulted a secret prodigy of the mind here, baffled as we are. Ah, me. Cheers to that intrepid individual, though, for fighting a fight I simply cannot.