[ OPEN ] want to be free

[aceslow]

WHO: Kim Kitsuragi (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. ]

Comments

c is for.... cmoking

[bemist]

[ Why is Gebura up this late? She's a grown-ass woman, that's why, and also she's been plagued with nightmares ever since a Certain Someone decided to get herself murdered For Science. Which is aggravating, because she's seen more than enough death and most manners of death had been much worse to witness, and yet somehow this is the one that haunts her subconscious. She doesn't trust that either.

So she patrols, for no real reason beyond a sense of habit and a growing restlessness.

She doesn't quite expect to see the man leaning against the wall, lighting up a cigarette. She has her own pack, of course, but after a beat, she'll extend a hand to pluck one from the carton he offers. ]

Didn't expect company tonight.

[ Her voice is roughened, the sign of one who also smokes as though it's as natural as breathing. ]

(d) (with a sprinkling of b if you want!)

[matermali]

[ Vanessa has begun to linger near the graveyard after dark when she wants to think, so it's only natural for her to be nearby, passing through the park at her leisure. The statue garden lies ominously ahead (a lure for her, to be honest), but Vanessa's light steps stop short when she hears an unfamiliar voice nearby. One bordering on (past?) frustration.

Curiosity piqued, she lifts her long skirt to step over a decorative rock and around a line of perfectly trimmed hedges. Just beyond, seated on the grass seems to be an individual attempting to craft...something. Even with a sharp eye, Vanessa can't discern it from here, but she can hear his complaint. While she might not normally be eager to hand a stranger a possible weapon to use against her, this is a case where Vanessa's starvation for entertainment will smother that pragmatism. ]

Would a kitchen knife do?

a.

[unrequite]

Certainly. Just... there we are.

[ Midnight takes up his own key, inspects the number imprinted on it, then gives his new friend a nod. Well, it's not as though he's about to turn down someone as willing to explore new territory as he is, even if they've just met. It's best not to embark on one's own.

(Midnight, in contrast, walks into the bank with no apprehension at all. One part feeling quite at home, one part his general cheerful obliviousness.)

He goes for the open door, widening it for the both of them, then strides in with a little more watchful caution, if only because he's taking stock of the room. Once he's sure there's no one else in there with them, he goes for his own safe deposit box and opens it. Inside are... two items that most certainly do not belong to him.

He pays Mr. Kitsuragi little mind as he inspects his items, figuring that the other man will call if he needs assistance. Midnight hovers there, frowning, but the objects hold no meaning for him, so he's content to read the note and wonder what it means. ]

b

[miyagimagic]

[ Daniel may not have gone into the bank himself, but it seems that the object there meant for him managed to find its way to him all the same - in the most roundabout way possible, but perhaps also the most perfect way possible, considering who it reunited him with.

He could blame the fact he's taken the object with him even out here on that, really. Maybe it's just because it's the first thing that made him happy in this place, if not just for a very specific reason. But somehow Daniel has found himself compelled beyond that to take it along in a way he can't quite grasp.

It's that same urge that makes him spot someone in the park, someone he doesn't even know, and step up to them. Even though the fact there's a still healing bruise all across the side of Daniel's face - right now coloured yellow, that last phase before it heals altogether - has made him kind of self-conscious all this time, and the fact that he can't actually talk even more so.

It's hard when you've lost your voice to the extent that you have to grab a phone from your pocket and type out everything you're saying on that, after all. Daniel quickly types something on there after greeting Kim with a slight nod, the phone's robotic voice reading out the words: ]

Are you looking for something?

[ Sorry, Kim, this is what your investigation apparently looked like.. ]

c - exercise

[indwelt]

[ Maybe he's not old enough to convene with other seniors in the park but unfortunately that's what he's getting now as another fellow senior approaches him. His bones may be creaky on the inside but on the outside Welt looks hale and hearty, and apparently in good enough spirits to offer up a little wave of greeting of his own. ]

It's nice to run outside though. Better scenery than being stuck indoors.

[ Though there's a certain appeal to the different muscle groups being worked at a gym, that's for sure. ]

Do you usually run alone?

let's go with b

[petsthedog]

[It's the supermarket where he ends up running into Kitsuragi again. Shinjiro's had an interesting few days since the detective found him outside his building that day; the incident with the bank had left him vaguely unsettled, pulling a question he'd allowed to slip from the forefront of his mind back into sharp relief--was Castor still there? He hasn't tried his Evoker since his arrival, and it's not as though this City has a Dark Hour. Seeing the suppressants in his vault had been an unpleasant reminder, and for the time being, he's avoiding dealing with what it might mean for him. Which leaves him with...well, errands.

Even so, Kim will find that he looks...better, perhaps. Just slightly less haunted, like perhaps he's finally gotten a halfway decent night of sleep. He's carrying a small bag of apples in his hand, though oddly, it appears that his intention is not to actually take them with him but to...put them back? Shinjiro does look chagrined by it, at least, when the older man drops by.]

Hey, Kitsuragi, you like apples at all? The guy I'm stayin' with freaks out if he even sees one. Feels kinda weird to just put 'em back, but it'd be worse to throw 'em away.

smoke break!

[poorlittlesange]

(ooc: assuming this takes place on another evening from the above thread! lmk if it doesn't work.)

[Jin Guangyao has always been the sort of man inclined towards burning the midnight oil, and those old habits evidently die hard. without a vocation or familial obligations to occupy his time, and with the object of his vengeance having departed as soon as he arrived, he has spent his first months in this city rudderless and drifting. sometimes his drifting takes him out onto the street late at night, where he wanders until exhaustion sets in and he is, finally, too tired to think.

he's quite tired now--but not yet at the point where lying down would result in sleep. and so here he is, walking quietly down the middle of the abandoned city road, when he spots the man illuminated by the lamplight. he recognizes Kim from their brief encounter at the (alleged) 'welcome party,' but not the small box being offered out to him. still, it would be impolite to refuse, and so he doesn't.]

Forgive this one his ignorance, xiansheng,[a practiced, polite smile to go with the polite honorific, and he extends his remaining hand out to accept the box,] but what are these?

d.

[lickstheevidence]

[Connor's a bit of a night-owl; when one doesn't need to sleep much, one tends to keep odd hours. The park is a particular favorite lately, as it feels more secluded than most of the rest of the City. Not that he's planning on doing anything that would make seclusion necessary, but it's nice sometimes to take a lonely walk in the dark. It helps him collect his thoughts about his life here so far and the greater mystery of the City itself.

He finds that on this night he's not as alone as he would have preferred, but his thoughts change to pleasant surprise when he spies out who the figure is ahead of him. He calls out a greeting so he doesn't scare the poor man half to death in the dark.]

Do you mind some company?

a!

[metafictions]

[Deserted is right. Other than the fact that these keys are on the wall, there's nothing much in the bank to look at besides them: no paperwork, no old names, nothing but blank pages and their footstep's echoes on the fine tile of the entrance hall.

Kim's right, it sems. Risking the trap is the only way forward. Kamui, leaning past Kim, studies his own key behind the teller's counter, his fingers running over the grooves on its edge. Finally making up his mind, too, he slips it off its place on the wall and pockets it. The younger man nods:]

I'm with you.

[Then Kamui moves on without waiting for Kim to lead the way. (If there's some danger ahead of them, maybe he'll meet it first.)

All they find, however, is a cool vault lined floor-to-ceiling with safety deposit boxes. Kamui steps inside first, giving the room a quick once-over before turning his attention to the boxes. Right away, the now-familiar name 'Kitsuragi' meets his eyes.]

Kim, I think this might be yours?