citylogs | [ open ] kaveh's permanent catch-all

[Vergilius' expression is just as despondent as the fence as his feet, as if the world wanted to turn him into its human representation in all its morose splendor. He stares at it. He glances at Kaveh. And then, as he is accustomed to do, he heaves a sigh.]

The title of a Fixer may suggest the ability to do handiwork, but its anything but. [A brief little pause, disgruntled.] What are you even doing?

[ vergilius heaves a sigh in a way that suggests the weight of the world is, if not already on his shoulders, then at least making some kind of a plan for a total take-over.

kaveh grabs midnight's boltcutters. ]

Dismantling a fence. [ he says, as the boltcutters bite into it. ] There isn't enough stainless steel wiring of the grade and thickness I need. Well, there isn't any medical-grade wiring, period, but this is as close as I could imagine getting to the right tensile strength.

Here. [ in the same motion, kaveh tosses over a pair of heavy-duty work gloves. he flexes his own. ] For your hands.

[The first part seems explanatory, but then veers off into another lane as the other man goes on - Vergilius furrows his brows, confusion bubbling to the surface in his voice.]

Medical-grade?

[But before he can continue, the gloves come flying at him - he catches them, instinctively, before glancing down. It's not like he agreed to this. But he knows this man and his stubborn ways, and getting this done and over with sounds like a better use of his time than having this blonde bird of a man squawking about how he needs to help.]

It's like you haven't seen my hands.

[He lifts one up - veined. Scarred. It's already the worse for wear.]

Oh, I've seen them. [ said cheerfully as metal squeals underneath the onslaught of a merciless boltcutter. notably, on the left-hand handle there is the word 'patience' engraved on it. on the right-hand handle, there is the word 'love'. both words are done in gold foil. kaveh is applying them to the fence as if it were a live crocodile. ] I also held tweezers to them when the splinters got in. I learned. If it's all the same to you, then put them on regardless. It'll save me a lecture.

[Here comes the most withering stare in the world, framed by the highly unamused frown.]

Sure remembered that, huh.

[It would be so easy to forget. Vergilius hopes the people around him have worse memories from here on out.]

...Fine. But next time, I'm walking away.

[Glove time it is, after that whole threat and a half, even if he looks like he's going to gripe the whole time about it.]

Where do you need me.

[ vergilius dons the gloves all the same. kaveh grins, and makes room for vergilius, shuffling to the right so that he can snip off another bit of connector. metal crunches between his bolt cutters. ]

Where you are is fine. Do you see the end of the wires, the ones that I've snipped loose? I'll need you to help unravel them, twist them straight, as it were. By the end of it, you ought to have an entirely straight length of wire at your disposal.

It's a good thing you came by. I was going to see if Heine was free.

I don't know who Heine is, but I pity them all the same for dealing with you.

[Sometimes you just know someone who is a Bother(TM) to everyone, and Kaveh fits that title oh so perfectly.]

[And here he is. Bothered(TM) into menial work.]

[He's bending down to take the strands from the sagging fence, red eyes looking over where the twisted metal begins and ends.]

What is this for?

Rude. Though you're possibly not wrong. I'll pass on your condolences, I think he'll appreciate them.

[ the bother (TM): taking another swing at the fence with his boltcutters. kaveh considers this. and then: ]

Daan, actually. [ quietly, with a somber lilt - ] I accepted a commission from him to make him bonesaws.

...

[Now that makes him pause, gloved fingers holding the wire loosely. "Medical-grade". Now it all makes sense.]

[He remembers a shaking Daan, with arm's flesh stripped away, watching things grow in bit by bit, being put together again by a force beyond his comprehension.]

He'd better not be thinking about repeating that whole mess again.

[His eyes flare with a new glow, emotions twisting and turning behind them like a displeased dragon in a cave.]

Edited 2023-11-08 18:25 (UTC)

[ there is a type of pigment that comes out of liyue that's supposedly crushed cinnabar mixed with the shattered chitin of a specific insect. put into the kiln under 1115 degrees celsius, and it comes out the red of a piercing desert dawn. there is no other red quite like it. it reminds kaveh a little of the bleeding of king deshret's tomb, the way the red leaks into the desert much in the way of a living myth, mixed with the sand and dust of the land he had, and the world had, left behind. right now, kaveh sees that red again.

there is rage. there is sorrow. kaveh looks. his hands carefully adjust his boltcutters. clink, goes the shred of another metallic connector. the fragment of metal falls to the grass much in the way of a shattered star. ]

I asked him much the same thing. [ says kaveh, because he, too, is remembering the ghastly white of an unmarked bone protruding from daan's arm. it had been pale like moonlight. it had been pale like death. but above all else, daan had been in pain, and kaveh had said it then and he still thinks it now: daan's pain had been unaccceptable. ] That's why these bonesaws will require two hands to utilise. He will need help to shear off another limb. Whoever that help is has a chance to stop him.

[Red. All he's ever seen was red. Even before these eyes glowed so unnaturally, they saw red. Red from blood. Red from worn skin wet with tears. That's the color of the core of the City, he thinks. There may be multiple Colors, so to speak, but he feels like red is the one above all.]

[And red is what comes from his eyes now, with every ounce of pain, anger, sorrow, and despair that it has always carried with it.]

...Two hands.

[He repeats, still turning the idea over in his head. That Daan would want to have it. That at least this man has his own idea to stop him from doing so. And yet...he knows Daan.]

[He knows the lengths Daan will go to.]

It's an admirable thought. [He finally says, voice rumbling like a growl.] But you know he'd find alternatives if he was determined enough to do so.

[ a soft, humourless laugh. kaveh cants his head. ]

Of course he will. There's strength to his will, and I mean that in the fondest and most vexatious way possible. If he wanted to sling around that kitchen knife of his, he would.

But that's hardly any reason not to do something. If I chose to do nothing in the face of an unwelcome probability, then Daan will only ever choose the unwelcome probability. We only know how to act as befitting of the tools we have on hand. Now, Daan will have a choice. I've given him a better one, a safer one, and I hope that he looks at it every day with the knowledge that I could have made this one-handed but I chose to make it two.

Besides - [ kaveh looks. the red-rimmed curve of kaveh's gaze meets the red-bleeding line of vergilius', red to red - ] you'll be the one to convince him that he doesn't have to go so far in the first place.

[As much as he's stubborn enough to always at least consider a chance at arguing, Kaveh...raises a good point. To not do anything at all would be akin to giving Daan a license to do whatever he pleased. Not that he, of all people, would want to deny Daan even that, but when it came down to self-sacrifice in all its forms...]

[Well. He now knows he's not the only one here who's going to be reminded of what happened in the past every time he sees a two-handed bonesaw. Thanks, Kaveh.]

[Whatever answer he has in reply to the other's Good Point dies in his throat, however. Not many people meet his gaze. He tends to notice that those who do have spirits that stand strong in spite of everything.]

[He grits his teeth a little, now self-conscious.]

I will? What makes you so sure of that?

[ you're welcome, vergilius ✨

kaveh looks. ]

Because he listens to you. He trusts you. [ says kaveh, gently. the other reasons - they aren't for kaveh to say. this is what he can: ] I think you ought to use that power for good, is all.

[.......He closes his eyes, then. Lets out a low, haggard sigh for good measure.]

[For good, huh.]

[...]

[In the driest tone he can manage:]

Maybe I should use that power to tell him to jump off a cliff when he entertains such ideas. What do you think? Yes? No?

[ kaveh grins. ]

Yes, actually. And then tell me what his face looks like in the aftermath. I suspect I'll have to paint it to commemorate.

Oh, you paint? That's useful, in addition to...

[He looks down at the wire in his hands, partially untwisted, looking pathetic all the same.]

Making bonesaws in your spare time.

I also build custom furniture, and cook. What can I say? I'm a man of many talents. [ said, however, with a rueful quirk of his lips. he is, after all, an architect without much to build.

kaveh's head cants. ] Now that you know their purpose, I wouldn't blame you for not wanting to help with the wires. I was going to tell you about the bonesaws regardless, for what it's worth, even if you hadn't been here today. It simply seemed like something that you would have wanted to know.

...Thanks. I guess.

["Something you would have wanted to know", he says, like its the most matter-of-fact thing in the world.]

[Vergilius doesn't say anything for a moment. Of course, he could've been one of the people Daan told. Which is fine, he supposes, he told the good doctor as such. But still, when this all happened suddenly, and there's already people like this making note of it as if its unavoidably seen as the color of blue in the sky, he feels all the more awkward for it.]

[He's never been an open person. Even to Daan, there's still things he's learning about being direct about his feelings. Here, its like a spotlight on his back, and he's trying in vain to not acknowledge it.]

[So he sighs, instead, which seems an all-around good reaction to most of his life at this point.]

...What do you think about us? Since it seems you're all in the know about it in some fashion.

[In the resigned tone of someone who is like "get it on, already".]

[ kaveh looks. vergilius sighs. it's a sigh that suggests the weight of the world has already draped itself on his shoulders and refuses to slide. it's a sigh that suggest vergilius will carry that weight whether it pleases him or not to do so, because it is there, and it must be carried, and it is his. it's a sigh, kaveh thinks, that reminds him very much of daan's. they are similar in ways that perhaps even kaveh has difficulty verbalising. and birds, didn't they flock, if they were of a feather?

here, the burden is that of love. kaveh wishes it weren't so, because that is something that he isn't equipped to navigate. not as of himself. the question has him pause as he looks at vergilius, really looks at him. ]

... before I answer that - I suppose I must ask you. Why would my opinion on you and Daan matter to you? Or rather, why should it?

It doesn't matter one bit.

[The answer comes out as blunt as a hammer hitting a nail, without any hesitation. A pause, and he continues, knowing he needs to elaborate.]

I guess you could say one of my pet peeves is when people dance around a topic. They try to be polite. They bite on their tongue to the point it could fall off. It annoys me like nothing else. Here I could have a perfectly normal conversation with someone, and they've decided to come in on an elephant and pretend it's not there in the room at all.

[Maybe its odd for him to be a fan of poetry, in all its twisting meaning and language, but want people to be as direct as possible. Ah. well, he's always been a hypocrite.]

So yell at me, deride me, celebrate me, I don't care. I'd rather it just be out and dealt with. I'm not as patient as one may think. If you don't really have an opinion, then sure, fine. Great. Regardless of your answer, I'll continue to make the decisions I want to make. That's all.

[ the answer is unsurprising in every way possible. kaveh nearly laughs for it. what happens is the slow crawl of a smile. it's fond along its edges. it's softer for it. of course, kaveh thinks, that ought to be the answer.

it's the only one that keeps both heart and integrity, and of course vergilius would have both. this is the man that daan trusted with his heart. ]

Good. [ kaveh says, and means it: good. ] Then I will say it to you honestly, and simply: whatever you are doing, you are doing it right. And not only are you doing it right, but you're doing it in a way that's good.

Other than that, my only other opinion is that I want Daan to realise that sandwiches are more than just slapping some meat between slices of bread. But that's an uphill struggle that I've taken on all on my own, so this is just my venting.

[Vergilius has half a mind to snap at him to stop smiling like that, damn you, but it doesn't come. He's more awkward than annoyed, shifting in place.]

[Good? He thinks its good?]

[He's far too used to it being the opposite.]

Look, I'll agree with him on the sandwich issue there, so you're on your own. [And a pause - he's trying to find words, here.] Anyways. Sure. I'll take your opinion. Thanks.

[HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY.]

[ kaveh grins. ]

Oh, then I suppose I'll have to change both your minds on the issue. That's good as well. I'm up for a challenge. I've changed the shape of a port's skyline before, surely I can handle two stubborn men who haven't had a proper sandwich before. You're very welcome, Vergilius.

Now - have you eaten today?

I don't need you to take any kind of challenge, there. No one is asking you to.

[Leave them alone to their PISSPOOR SANDWICHES]

[And...hm.]

[He is very focused on the wires here suddenly what a good worker....]

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cw: abstract description of body horror

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