[ open ] kaveh's permanent catch-all

[fussiest]

WHO: kaveh (fussiest) & y'all!
WHAT: this is a perpetual catch-all for kaveh because i'm too lazy to make a new one every month. this is for closed starters, tag-ins, visits to kaveh's workshop and the like! be wild! be bold! be free!
WHERE: all around the city, and especially at kaveh's workshop, the pairidaeza architectural design studio in district 1
WHEN: everywhere! everywhen! all at once!
WARNINGS: bickering, probably - everything else will be warned for on a thread-by-thread basis

Comments

[limbical]

[The gaze he gives Kaveh is quiet, introspective, and compassionate. At the request, Daan doesn't hesitate, holding out his hand.]

Of course.

[fussiest]

[ kaveh takes daan's hand in his. this is a hand of a doctor. his is a hand of an architect.

kaveh's hand, scarred and callused from wresting dreams into a reality where dreams so often go to die - he takes daan's hand in his, and he squeezes it. holds it there, imbuing into the gesture every ounce of his his sorrow, his guilt, his gratitude. ]

Thank you. [ kaveh says, with his heart in his throat, ] I can't even call you a donkey - you've been far too kind and understanding this entire time. But thank you. Perhaps I've met you at a time and place where I can finally hear and understand it. Perhaps growth isn't just about who you are and where you are, but also when you are.

But really, you have it wrong. Right now, I see you as something of an aspiration. If you can do it, with such courage too, then what I wouldn't give to steal even a fraction of that courage. Daan, you inspire me. That is the truth of it. I am shamed by it, and I know it is right for me to be. Thank you.

[limbical]

[Once upon a time, Daan's hands were also rough from his young life, but eventually they have softened from more cautious work than when he lived in the streets, or his work as a butler. Now, they are soft, careful, and precise.

And his hand does softly hold onto Kaveh's, unafraid.]

Heh. ...Imagine that, me. An inspiration for anything. [Daan lets out a soft huff.] If you really want to know something, I feel myself writhe inside every time someone has called me a good man, or kind. I'm still not sure I'm any of those things, but I suppose I can't count on my own judgment for that right yet.

Especially if it means I can do something to inspire you.

[fussiest]

[ kaveh grins. it comes like a wayward starbust after the rain. the sorrow lingers, the guilt always will. but for the first time in two weeks, something has clicked within the enigma wrapped within a riddle.

it's painful to look at. it will continue to be. but who is kaveh to look away? daan has shared his courage. kaveh breathes in. ]

Said truly like a kind and good man. [ he says, gently, by the way of a teasing lilt. ] You'll have to bear me saying it, then, until you can believe it for yourself. Poor you.

[limbical]

[There it is. He isn't sure he can recall a genuine smile from Kaveh yet; mostly just passive-aggressive smiles, ready to snip and bite with words and actions. To fuss, as he does.

He has time to practice. After all, Daan has only recently been able to smile at all, as his own weight alleviates inch by inch.]

Hmm. How annoying. But fine, I've sort of accepted you don't exactly leave me with many choices at all.

[fussiest]

Be prepared to fully accept it, Daan. I am exacting. I wouldn't accept anything less.

[ but kaveh - he has taken more than his lot in life. far more than he deserves. one, final squeeze, and kaveh lets daan go.

unfurling is a kind of rebirth. kaveh stands. ever limb protests it. day three is scintillating. he blinks, rapidly, to clear the stars that come; the back of his eyelids ache like something prepared in hellflame and beyond. but kaveh has not felt this sober in such a long time. ]

Daan, I apologise. [ kaveh says. the anxiety leaps. but he says it anyway: ] I have to cut our meeting short today. I promise I will still help you with your clinic and the mobile option for it - but I will send you the blueprints later, along with a few other locations to look into.

[limbical]

[With a soft sigh, he stands up from his crouch and then shakes his head at Kaveh.]

No need to apologize. I like to think we made some good progress, didn't we? [Be it personal affairs or professional.] Do whatever it is you have to. You know where to find me, if you need.

...I'll see you alter, all right?

[fussiest]

[ kaveh looks. he hesitates.

and then: ]

Wait. One more thing. [ ... kaveh reaches into his tote. he takes out two letters. white plain envelopes, wax-sealed. both have names printed on it in kaveh's printing-press slantwise cursive, each letter as precise as if it were a woodblock print made form.

on one envelope: midnight. on the other: alhaitham. ] Will you take these back with you? To your office, I mean.

[limbical]

[His lips purse as he gazes down at the envelopes, a small frown on his face. It isn't his business, whatever is in these, but he is puzzled.]

I will, but why exactly am I taking these from you?

[fussiest]

[ kaveh hands are still. ]

If I die, please give Alhaitham and Midnight these envelopes. They're for them to read. [ for the organs; for the aftermath. ] I can't guarantee they will make your work easier, but neither of them will blame you for it. The decision has always been mine.

[limbical]

[There is a pause.

A concept that he doesn't care to think of, but he cannot promise that their futures will be full of life and light. At the end of last month, he killed Vergilius and was not even certain if or when the man would revive, but was determined to stay at that haunted house and wait for him. He had begged the dying Red Gaze to please come back, to come back to him, and Vergilius promised to try.

Death may not be permanent here, as far as they know, but when does that rule change, when rules have changed before? And that was a possibility that broiled fear in his heart that awful night where he struggled to regrow his arm.

Daan reluctantly takes the envelopes.]

All right. I'll make sure they're delivered, if that should come to pass.

[fussiest]

[ kaveh nods. he looks. he has, kaveh thinks, burdened daan with more than his lot to bear. he owes this man more than kaveh knows how to express. the guilt comes again, it always will. but perhaps it hasn't mattered in a long time, what drives kaveh forward, so long as the good is being done with his two hands.

daan accepts the letters. kaveh breathes out. ]

Thank you.

[ kaveh's hands return to his side. ]

... I have to go. And yes, I'll see you after. Try the mortadella. [ kaveh smiles. ] It won't kill you to eat something with proper taste, once in a while.

[ with a backwards wave, kaveh goes. ]