citylogs | [closed]

[ She isn't half bad herself. Quite good, actually, and Midnight's spoiled for choice. When she pulls away, he does too, but only halfway. His hands had drifted up to cup her face, like he was taking a sip of water. Thirsty, as one might say.

He looks down at her lips again, sure, but then up to her eyes, thumb brushing up at her cheek as he smiles at her, lopsided. ]

Didn't miss that one. How about you?

[ It was a good kiss, sure, but nothing that should be reordering the planets or anything. Is Miss Constantine all right? ]

I'm a pretty shit friend, Midnight.

[ She blurts it out, and then tries to cover it with a sharp smile. ]

A great fuck. But you know how these things get.

[ And she likes being his friend. And she would probably like sleeping with him. And she has the awful certainty that if she does either -- let alone tries to do both -- she's going to rip the whole thing in half. That's what she does. Wouldn't it be easier if they avoided the whole thing entirely? ]

[ A very wide-eyed pause. Midnight's somewhat taken aback. How sudden!

Well, he does nod, eventually. ]

I'm rather the same myself, my darling. On both counts. Although, you know, I don't think that improves the circumstances any...

[ He reaches up and pushes her hair back with a hand. ]

No need to fret, love. I can guarantee that my dedication to bachelorhood, in spite of everything, has landed me in enough dire straits to understand how these things do, in fact, get. I like you, but it's quite all right to leave it at that.

He's keeping his eyes peeled for that. He'd love a local bookstore, or library. But failing that, the one they have is better than nothing.

"It's not so bad I suppose. Even if it means we can't learn anything about this place, we can at least get to know each other better. That is worth more sometimes, innit?" Even if they found some clues, like maybe the name of this place, or where in the world this place might be, what good would that do them? They'd still have no way home. They might not even recognise it if they're on a completely different-- planet or solar system or time or whatever. Steven's not ruling that out, despite all the familiar comforts this city has offered to him.

"Marc? He's not controlling. He's just-- worried. He's a worrier." And also a warrior, sure, but mostly a worrier as far as Steven is concerned. "Silly things have happened here, you know. Not as safe as it looks. He'd worry about you too and warn you about all the dangers if you gave him the chance."

Well, thank fuck for bachelorhood.

[ Her eyes half-close when he strokes her hair, relaxing a little, even though she's not sure he quite gets it. She's not worried about falling in love with him, or vice versa. Well, maybe a little, but she's used to disappointing lovers. If she disappoints her friends, here--

Well, never mind, when she does that, she'll do what she always does and soldier on. And in the meantime, she'll just put all those insecurities back in their box and pretend she never said anything. ]

Now, where were we?

Johanna snorts.

"Silly isn't the word I'd use, bruv, I'd say bit fuckin' horrifying. If he's been saying not to go into any of the new big building that pop up I'd say he's probably got a point."

She shrugs. "But if he told me not to go outside, I'd still probably tell him where to shove it."

"Yea alright..." Steven hasn't seen the bulk of the horrifying but he can attest to some discomfort with things that have happened in the city. Fortunately or unfortunately, he's still rather sheltered from everything.

"The mall wasn't much to write home about, I'd heard." He didn't hear why, exactly, but at the same time, does he really need to know all the nitty-gritty details? Malls never really held much appeal to Steven to begin with so Marc didn't have to worry about Steven spending too much time in there anyway... although yes he would have checked the place out the first time had he not been ~~banned~~ forewarned from going.

"I suppose you're well within your right but I don't like to talk to him like that..." Steven has one or two mean bones in his body, contrary to popular belief, but he'd never say something like that to Marc.

"It's not always a controlling thing, with people. Sometimes they do genuinely care for you, you know. Even if it sounds ludicrous, like not going outside. He might know something you don't." And proceed to gaslight the living daylight out of you and pretend like everything's fine... Because that's completely normal, no?

This is actually ... feeling slightly concerning to Johanna. Yes, Steven seems timorous and out of his depth, but keeping him from going outside? Somehow keeping him from hearing about the nightmare of the mall? Is he just downplaying things, or is Marc actually sheltering him like a fairy tale princess?

"'Course you don't talk to him like that, you're -- well, what are you two, anyway? Twins separated at birth or something?"

[ He stands there, looking down at the woman from a few feet across the living room, hesitating to draw any closer. But.... there's something to that answer that is kind of relieving. Some kind of control given to him in a situation where he feels like he has hardly any at all. If it starts to hurt, it can stop.

He can stop it this time.

Peter lingers for a few more long moments, staring down at the thing drawn on the floor surrounded by flickering candles, heart still hammering. More what ifs are flooding him, worse and worse. What if something goes wrong? Something seemed to go wrong, when his mother did that séance. ...But Mom didn't know what she was doing. This woman's a professional. It's different.

After a few moments of fretful silence, he's nodding again, fingers nervously rubbing the sides of his shirt, curling into fabric. ]

Okay. I'll do it. Do I just... do I walk in?

Good man.

[ Her tone is warm, and a touch relieved. Straightening up, she steps carefully over the lines to her bag one more time. There she retrieves the bottle of holy water -- which just looks like a standard plastic water bottle, a bit battered from banging around in her bag -- the container of salt, and a handful of rosemary sprigs, the best purifying herb she could find at the grocery. ]

So that empty point, there, you're going to sit in it, and I'll sit over here. Be very careful of the lines, all right? They're there to keep the power flowing the way we want it, like a circuit. You don't want to break it.

[ She settles into her own spot, arranging her materials close at hand, and gestures for Peter to take a seat. ]

[ Midnight tilts his head, questioning, but doesn't ask anything, simply takes her reply at its face. He's no mindreader, but she seems happy enough... That's the only thing he was ever aiming for.

So he drops his chin a bit, lets his hands fall to her waist, and pulls her close, grinning a little. ]

I was asking if you had any opinions on kiss number two, last I checked. Was it to your satisfaction, love?

[ If not, he's got the smile of a man who can certainly keep trying until something suits her fancy. ]

"Ummmmmmmm... something like that!" Although given how high-pitched that 'um' was, it's safe to say it's nothing like that. They haven't exactly come up with a better cover story just yet and it's better if they're both working on that actively rather than going off saying different things to different people. It'd be confusing and obvious that they're lying if those people started talking to each other.

"I suppose we don't seem like it. He's very-- better." Steven clears his throat. "I mean he's got this tall, dark, mysterious, handsome thing going on." Despite the fact that they sort of basically look the same. "Man of action and few words. I'm sure he's very popular. I'm not. But at least it makes it easier to tell us apart?"

[ Yeah, okay, fuck, this is really happening, isn't it? Peter stares at the spot, the empty point she directs him too, and takes a deep breath before he starts moving that way. Careful of the lines, got it. Fuck, he'll be careful; he's terrified to mess something up.

So he moves slowly, mindful of where his Converse sneakers nudge, stepping lightly. When he finds the right place he's slowly sinking down to sit, pulling long legs in crossed, looking up at her for a moment to make sure that's okay. ]

Think about the uh, safe place, right?

[ He can do that, even if at first it's sheer willpower forcing his mind away from the anxiety of what's going on around him. After a moment he closes his eyes, and he's picturing a room in his house. The little nook off of the living room, a place he didn't really go anymore as he got older, no reason to hang out there anymore. But when he was a kid... he liked taking naps there.

Maybe in this dream scenario, it's a lazy Saturday, and there's nothing to do. No school, no obligations. He's home and he's young enough to think things are okay. He's alone, but there's the awareness that his parents are somewhere. Close enough he could find them if he needed to. (Maybe his dad's in the home office, working on his computer, and he's made fresh coffee and it smells good. Maybe his mom's outside working in the little flower garden. It's back when she used to do things like that. And Charlie... Charlie's in her treehouse, probably, content to be alone the way she always is. No one's together, but they're all okay. He wishes he could go back to something like that, and he knows he never can.)

Most of all, it feels safe. It's before Mom started getting worse, before he was old enough to start feeling hopeless about everything. He's just closing his eyes on the couch, sun shining through a window, warm. It's safe. ]

Right.

[ She watches him for a second while he closes his eyes, finds the place he's looking for. At least, she hopes he finds it. The air in here feels dry, to her, like she'd get shocked if she touched something metal.

Well, there's some shit going on, isn't there? Whether it's a hex or PTSD or just the City's bad vibes, there's some shit, and now she's trying to channel it away. Best get to it. Taking up the salt, she pours it in the central hexagon of the circle, letting it pool into a rough circle. When she speaks, her voice is quiet and calm, almost rhythmic. ]

I invoke earth and water. And by earth and water, I consecrate this home, and protect it from harm. Let this home be strong as earth and pure as water. Let no ill or evil enter, through earth or water.

[ You can tell when a spell starts working, even if you're halfway making it up as you go along. Things begin to have a gravity, a momentum, like a ball starting to roll down a slight slope. Except just like when she tried divination with Loki, starting this ball rolling is hard. What would take a nudge back home takes heavy push. But she's going to fucking push, god damn it.

Johanna takes up the rosemary and her lighter, and lights a sprig. It takes several tries for the leaves to catch and start smoldering, a strong, spicy smell threading up from it into the room. ]

I invoke fire and air. And by fire and air, I consecrate this home, and cleanse it of evil. Let this home be strong as fire and pure as air ... Let no harmful thing or ill will remain. [ Deep breath, keep it going. ] In fire or air.

"You look the same."

Clearly something is going on, and both of them have been weirdly evasive about it.

"So, you're both tall, dark, and handsome. He's just more American about it."

She frowns at him. "Are you clones?"

Like, she's pretty sure that's not how clones actually work, but hey, there are more thing in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in her philosophy.

"We do not," Steven protests. "His hair is different." Because, you know, it's not like they choose to put products or colours or Hello Kitty hairpins or whatever else in it.

"Ahaha! Clones? What? Of course not!" Somehow, there's less overacting in a primary school nativity play than there is Steven and his deer-in-headlights 'grin'.

"Haven't you met-- twins before? We're what twins look like. I mean not all twins of course. Just. Marc and Steven. Grant. Marc and I."

Mm, it was pretty good.

[ His hands on her waist are a pleasant pressure, and she shifts to loop her arms around his neck like a couple at a high school dance. ]

I'd expect nothing less. One more for luck?

Johanna makes approximately this face as Steven keeps trying to clamber out of that hole. When it seems like he's paused, she raises her eyebrows.

"Okay, well. I'd recommend you just say twins in the future, then, and leave it at that, 'cause right now you're overselling it a bit."

"Why is it that hard to believe? I know I'm not-- even nearly half the man he is, but." Steven scrunches his face up as the inferiority complex sets in, digs in deep.

"We can be twins and still be our own men. Or-- live life in our own way."

"The idea that you're twins isn't hard to believe."

She pushes her plate to the side and leans forward, elbows on the table.

"But you're afraid it's going to be, so you say it like you need me to believe it's true, instead of expecting me to believe it's true. You ever played two truths and a lie?"

"No." And he doesn't really understand what she's trying to say. He said they were twins and he's pretty sure Marc has also been saying they are twins but, whatever her interactions with Marc has been like, it didn't seem like she believed Steven...

"Am I supposed to tell you two truths and one lie?" The name of the game seems fairly obvious at least...

"Yeah, but here, I'll go first."

She counts off on her fingers: "I was born in Birmingham. I've got an older brother. And I've always wanted to have a white wedding."

All of these are delivered with complete sincerity, staring straight into his eyes.

"Now, which of those do you think is the lie, and why?"

"White wedding!" Steven exclaims almost instantaneously. Before his face falls and he inwardly cringes a bit. This first date is going really poorly. He tenses up a bit in anticipation of getting punched in the arm.

"There's nothing wrong with them! Or you!" Ugh, oh dear, how is he going to dig himself out of this hole?

"You just. Didn't strike me as a conventional sort of gal... And you seem to have a-- oh I hope you don't mind me saying this, but. You seem to have a complicated relationship with capital-H-Him."

[ Midnight laughs, leans in. ]

For compliments that sweet, from lips so lovely? I'm not sure if I have nearly enough kisses for that...

[ One last kiss. Slow, soft, unhurried. With the lights and music of the fair around them, it all feels very dreamlike to him. ]

Johanna bursts out laughing at how fast he answers.

"All right, fair cop, that was kind of an obvious one. D'you mean I have a complicated relationship with God?"

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