citylogs | [ OPEN ] July Catch-all!

Entry tags:

[ OPEN ] July Catch-all!

WHO: Midnight (

unreserving) & You (you)
WHAT: Midnight, please calm down, it's only been a week, you can't be this much of a disaster already.
WHERE: Lots of places! Mostly in outdoor or public spaces he hasn't been to yet. If you would like a closed or specific prompt, please PM me or take a peek at my OOC intro so I can get you set up!
WHEN: Pre and post Sylvain's shitpost. Probably mostly pre-event!
WARNINGS: Most definitely alcohol use! Some references to death and terminal illness. Will update as necessary, please see Midnight's content warnings for possible canon-typical content.

a. day (a local gym)

[ Generic workout routine. He does arms and legs on alternating days for about two to three hours there starting at about 7 am, then an hour (or however long he has at the end of the day until, uh, midnight) before showering and going home. He may also steal a practice room and swing around a stick he's found in lieu of his sword... He should probably think about getting a practice sword made, huh.

He's friendly, cleans up after himself, and will spot for anyone, but also feel free to accost him walking in or out of the facilities! But also, if your character needs... well, less of a personal coach and more of a cheerleader, he's there for you. Why'd you ask him for this? I don't know, but he's so there for you at this lateral press, bench, tiny silicone dumbbells, whatever. He is rooting for you! ]

Two more in the set and you're done. Don't think about it, just do it!

b. day (shopping center)

[ Midnight just needs to go clothes shopping. That's it. He'll carry bags for people, he'll help out with menial tasks. Look at this guy, do gooding.

Okay, specifically: ]

Do you think anyone would mind if I procured that?

[ He points at a neon sign, a bright Edison light, a small discoball, a chandelier. Something very bright, flashy, and... probably not intended for sale. ]

I mean, I don't suppose there's a manager, and I wouldn't like to interfere with their marketing, but I quite like it.

[ ... He rolls up his sleeves, drags over a chair, and begins climbing. He's decided he doesn't need an opinion anymore, or just straight up didn't wait for an answer. Look, sometimes a guy just desires a lava lamp. ]

c. evening (town hall)

[ Once the dust settles and everyone is perfectly happy with the distinct lack of helpful information in the help center, Midnight will still arrive there in the evenings, haul out a bunch of books into an empty side room, and flip through them, a plastic bag of assorted drinks at his side. (Mostly alcohol and water.)

Weird nightclub looking vampire here, books open on his lap, spinning a pen between his fingers. Occasionally, if someone walks by his room and doesn't look too busy, he'll get up, go to the door, and gesture to them, an open book in his hand. ]

Hello, love. Do me a favor and write anything you like here.

[ He clicks the pen in his hand and offers it. Man's doing some experimenting! ]

d. night (the park)

[ Remember the stick he has at the gym? He needed to find it at some point. During the evenings, but honestly any time he isn't doing something else throughout the first three or four days, he'll be poking around the park, searching for fallen branches long and straight enough to do the trick. It'll take a while, and he definitely looks like he's lost something! (Or feel free to assume that you've already joined the hunt. Find a bird's nest with no birds! An odd little gravestone! Get stuck up a tree! Help!!!)

If that is overly gung-ho Boy Scout behavior, feel free to catch him a little later in the night, either from 9-10 pm or 1-2 am, sitting at a bench, workout bag sitting at his side, his running shoes neatly tied by their laces and looped around the strap.

He stares out into the darkness. That's... sort of it. It still seems like he's looking for something, but not to the point where he's about to get up and look for it. If one would like to sneak up on him using the cover of darkness, his eyes will slide over and lock on a little more quickly than what should be natural. He sees you.

He grins. (Even if he isn't surprised, he grins.) ]

Hello, darling. Having a pleasant walk?

e. morning (everywhere!)

[ Remember when we said Midnight starts his workout routine at 7 am? He actually starts at 6 am with a jog. He'll be everywhere, just exploring, and he'll use most of the subway systems to make his way back to his gym of choice. He is... not shy at all about his body, so he'll probably pull off his shirt once the sun comes up so he can cool down a bit.

He is truly minding his own business here, but he'll pause his run for anything, even if it's just a short conversation. Or just feel free to wonder why there's a shirtless, sweaty vampire on public transportation at like 7 am. Where does he need to be? Where does anyone need to be??? ]

f. day (city hall, again, late July)

[ Midnight has a seat he's pulled up to the information kiosk, but he doesn't use it all that often. He only sits to add to a growing list in a book he keeps on his person. If one would peek over his shoulder, the list is composed of questions, some pertinent, some less so. Please feel free to make one up, but the first on the list is definitely "Are you single?", which should tell you how seriously he's taking this endeavor. ]

g. evening (shopping district)

[ Not much to this prompt either, he's just poking around. Poking around at the restaurants and bars in the area, his planner occasionally out as he takes notes on... something or other. He tries to choose establishments that see less traffic, so it's very likely that wherever he finds someone, they're the only two in the building. ]

Sorry to interrupt your meal. Mind if I ask you a few questions?

h. wildcard

Feel free to make your own starter, or PM for one! Will match prose and bracket text, please start however you like.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ the perks of being an architect: being able to see that the vampire has picked out the right tool for the job. the little cross-hatch screwdriver would make short work of the screws of the fixture, kaveh knows. that is, if there is enough strength behind the force of it. fixtures can be tricky once installed; you never know if there had been rust, or damage to it, and sometimes the strength of the elbow isn't enough. but it's not as though there's a leverage on display - kaveh considers the selection, and begins to pick out the rest of what they might need: a circuit tester for the residual electro, two more sets of screwdrivers, each smaller and finer than the rest in case the electrical box is smaller than anticipated... ah, the 'drill'.

with the long-suffering aptitude of someone who went through undergrad carrying precisely at least this many things in one arm while running from engineering course to engineering course, kaveh balances his spoils and considers the premise: ]

It's interesting that you would frame it as a relationship. In a sense, one can develop a relationship with a place, but it's not often that a place or a location can react back. There are three possibilities for what's happening here - one, that the city is non-sentient, and has attributed binary judgments on crime that either fits or doesn't fit the criteria of handcuffs. Two, that the city is sentient enough to be capable of moral judgments based on circumstances, and each act of applying handcuffs is a subjective treatment.

[ oh, pliers, in case the entire thing is secured on the inside by tensile wiring, ] Three, that there's a sentient being observing each act and is capable of either applying binary judgment or subjective judgment based on its whim. You couldn't anticipate that, but you could test for it.

It'll be faster if a whole group of people were to commit the same crime for different reasons across the city each day. Say, four people for different scenarios, and one person as a control, who performs an adjacent task similar to the crime, but is clearly benign. Otherwise, you'll have to second guess each performance regarding false positives or negatives, and that's not a good use of your energy either.

Edited 2023-07-16 07:04 (UTC)

[ ... Well, if there was room to wonder if he was an architect before, the way Kaveh gathers supplies from the shelves like one might stock up on bulk drinks before an absolute rager would take care of any remaining doubts. Midnight quietly retreats to the front, grabs a large cloth bag from a hook, andd returns to Kaveh's elbow, gently prying the loosest items from his arms and placing them in the bag the bag. ]

Did you come up with all of that just now, or did I uncover some plan a bit before the execution stage?

[ He's teasing just a little bit, but he's honestly a bit impressed. This man has had a secondary education of some sort, and he certainly earned it. It also confirms his suspicion that he'd listen to this lovely man talk about anything, ad infinitum, and solidifies his own plans to make drinking with him a regular event. Making enough time to let others ramble around him is a very high priority for him. ]

[ it isn't until the second nudge that kaveh realises that he's already missing two screwdrivers and looks down from where he'd been perusing electrical tape to see where they've gone. the belated realisation has him brightening, and then, with grateful aplomb, dump the rest of his shoplifting spree into midnight's bag. his fingers skim along the bag's rim; he takes a moment to tweeze the fabric between his fingers. a cloth bag; that's innovative. it shouldn't be difficult for the women down in treasures street to figure out cheaper materials to weave that for themselves. baskets aren't particularly heavy or expensive, but they're rigid in shape and sometimes you don't need an entire basket to carry just a few grocery items. a cloth bag conforms to the items that you are carrying, and is easily stowed until you need it.

this is why kaveh can't quite get enough of innovation, he thinks. the spiral of his thoughts conclude at its logical stopping point at the question, to which kaveh looks up. ]

Oh! Well, in a way, aren't we executing it right now? I hadn't put any significant thought into this until you came up with the idea, so in other words, I'm just building off of your work, that's all. [ and then, because he's kaveh, he brightens. ] Ah, but if we want to test for theory number three, we'd need duplication, just to tweeze out any potential cosmic biases. So five individuals, one as control, two performing the exact same crime at the exact same time to see if there are any differences.

Now, I've a question for you: do you think a city can be sentient?

No.

[ Midnight laughs, though, is currently shifting around the contents of the bag so they fit neatly around each other. Before this, he was taking more mental snapshots of Kaveh's fascination with everything around him. These things are quite valuable. Wonder fades. ]

I confess, you're asking the right questions to the wrong person. I'm sure that the possibility of a sentient city is out there. Actually, there's a certain belief where I'm from that all things have a spirit to them. There are shrines and everything to rocks, boulders, mountains, large trees, and so on. I've simply never took much stock to them, and I've never read about sentience being gifted to the unliving in anything other fiction. I tend to make room for what I know is possible, and the things that are probable. It's why I enjoy talking to people like you. I like confronting my biases.

[ Midnight pauses, thinks for a moment. If Kaveh wants more time to stuff supplies in the bag now's the time to do it. ]

Miss Closure does make a case for some of her robots, and to a certain point, I do believe it, but she also makes some very strange decisions for them, so I often don't like to think they're aware of themselves.

[ confronting your biases, kaveh thinks. it reminds him a little bit of alhaitham, who has never erred from bringing that critical judgment of his on both external perceptions and his own. to conquer oneself, one must first know oneself. kaveh's own biases are clear, he knows. if the city were sentient, this would be a lot more complicated. something with sentience putting other creatures of sentience into the position they have been put in is an ethical judgment that kaveh doesn't think he has the capacity to produce without erring.

still, his lips quirk at that. ]

If there is time for confession, then I must add mine: that there are no right question to wrong people. There are only right people, and wrong questions. I hadn't gotten the sense that you were the wrong one to ask about this; you have a well thought-out perspective that shows your sense of practicality. You may have been in a position where a belief of spirits didn't help you all that much. [ because kaveh, who has known of the spirits of the forests, also knows - that those without wonder can no longer see them. that the world is made bare for it. the drunken midnight on the network and the midnight of today, the one holding open a bag for kaveh while sifting through his thoughts on sentience - both are of the same cloth, but represent perhaps different sides.

kaveh says: ] So I will be blunt with you: experimenting on your own may not yield the quality of data needed to have objective judgments on our current situation. Even without our primary occupations, your time and energy is valuable. If you have a few trusted individuals to help with this, or even myself, the going will be easier, and the quality of the experiment will help you derive the value you need for a piece of this collective puzzle.

[ his fingers skim the shelf. kaveh calls out, ] Oh, we might need a saw.

[ so off it comes from the shelf. kaveh looks between the bag and the midnight, and then holds the saw blade-down. ]

[ Honestly, Midnight could get used to this, puttering around and letting someone else talk for once. It's nice. Less work.

(Not for the first time, and before he can remind himself that it doesn't matter, not anymore, he wonders what would have happened if he hadn't entered that host club all those years ago. If he'd taken simpler options. Did he enjoy conversation back then, or did he learn to love it, like alcohol or the taste of coffee? He doesn't remember anymore. It doesn't matter. The past is dead.)

He reaches up and pats the hand holding the saw. ]

Come down a bit, darling. I need to reach the handle.

[ He'll take the saw and just hold onto it. Kind of a happy serial killer vibe, honestly. ]

So, what you're saying is that I'll either need to get help or resign myself to the results of an imperfect experiment. [ Hm. ] How would you suggest I spend my time if I inform you that I'm not actually the type to lead an experiment, then? I'm the independent sort.

[ kaveh's mind on repeat: darling? darling. darling??? darling. the saw switches hands. kaveh looks. the incongruity of a smiling midnight with a saw balanced in hand evokes the imagery of something you might been in a darkened alleyway, possibly in fear of your life. he heard that wrong, kaveh thinks, as he carefully comes down from where he'd climbed half-way up a shelf so that he can dust his hands off. there really isn't much dust, is there.

the agreement, then, rounds off the odd trifecta of existential abnormalities that defines this entire situation. independent sort, midnight says, a careful definition that says little enough about quite a lot of things. he'd thanked sylvain profusely too, kaveh recalls. perhaps this agreement is coming a little too easily; kaveh supposes it's better than the alternative. but this, too, is not within the range of the unexpected. ]

Solo research projects. [ is what kaveh says. he does one last inventory of what they have, stepping into the space of the saw-wielding serial-killer vibes to poke his head down into the bag for a check, before nodding. the motion is conveyed with some finality. ] For example, unexplored buildings or tunnels that need exploration, or acting as a guard for someone who intends on exploring but isn't sure where they'll end up. You're holding that saw like a sword; there's a lot of value in that. Or at the bare minimum, keeping an observation log so that no phenomena goes unchecked. The sharing of information will eventually benefit the collective, but it can be done on your own perogative.

[ kaveh's head tilts. ] Come, let's head back. And don't take too much of what I'm saying to heart - I'm just a stranger making conversation who wants to see what's keeping that chandelier up. Tell me instead about this Miss Closure person and her robots. What do they do for her?

[ Midnight looks down at the saw in his hand, thinking about his grip, among other things. The amount of people who take Midnight's pet names to heart at the degree that they do is really a bit concerning. Have these people never been the subject of simple affection? All the more reason to do it, but really, Midnight has quite the labor of love (literally) ahead of him.

(He'd also find it a bit concerning that Kaveh had read deeply into his independence. Not that he's wrong, nor that Midnight thinks the man means any malice. He just has his moments where he enjoys being seen. People getting too close to the other moments means he's getting sloppy. He doesn't like being drunk, actually...) ]

I see.

[ Since he is not currently profoundly drunk, he just thinks about how nice it would be to touch Kaveh's hair instead of actually doing it. He basks in the thought for a moment before letting it go and walking alongside Kaveh instead, the happiest packhorse imaginable. ]

They're a public service for the landship I live in, little wheeled contraptions who perform menial tasks whenever we're short a hand. National treasures, each one. She has a handful of her own creations, and tends to outfit any capable drones or robots who come aboard the ship with voice chips and AI. They're quite the bunch. Different personalities to all of them. I'm rather fond of Lancet-2 myself, although that may be my bias speaking.

[ kaveh, who's concept of affection has always been conditional, considers the candid way midnight speaks about voice chips and artificial intelligence, and feels a terrible burning sort of envy in him. this, kaveh shows through something like wistful longing as he considers the path from the hardware store back to the clothing store where the chandelier is, falling into step just ahead of midnight at a considerate trot.

a landship - so a ship capable of traversing land. living on it suggests that the ship may be larger than the standard passenger ships that are fairly miserable to be on for elongated periods of time, not that that hadn't stopped his mother from getting on one to fontaine all those years ago. lancet-2, kaveh thinks. the '2' implies that there had been a lancet-1 at some point, possibly reduced to little bits of scrap metal, though that's a fifty-fifty guess on his part. and a lancet is... ]

A surgical robot? [ huh. ] Fascinating. And you say each has their own personality? Which means it's able to retain a precision in work while maintaining the systems needed to confer individualised responses. This Miss Closure of yours must be some genius - or are all individuals who work with robots at that level of understanding?

[ While Midnight is a more than capable interpreter of words and body language, he can only do so much without much insight into one's personality. He looks at the back of Kaveh's head while they walk, and while the quiet conveys interest, conveys courtesy, it doesn't do much else without an expression. Honestly, Midnight is fine with that. He's learned not to assume too much. There's a courtesy in letting others have their secrets. To let others have their quiet moments until they understand it's safe to let go.

... While Midnight's quite looking forward to having that chandelier, he's certain that Kaveh would be much more excited to actually take the thing down than he is. It's nice to be excited about things. ]

Honestly, I've no idea. I've spoken to Miss Closure a few times, but our conversations tended to focus on business and a bit of shared heritage, not her creations. Lovely woman, though. Her passion for engineering is something to behold. She cares deeply about her work, and it shows in the way her creations support us, in the way she constantly refines them to make sure our needs are met. A profoundly beautiful soul.

So... I suppose I don't know much about genius or understanding. But passion, love, devotion... Those are certainly things I see. [ ... Midnight laughs. ] You've got quite a bit of all of the above to share, if I may say so.

Not love.

[ the answer surprises kaveh. transparently so. the odd silence lilts as kaveh tries and succeeds in finding the inception of the thought. 'do you remember having been in love', it had said on the screen, and for a moment, kaveh had felt known. you didn't always want to be known. it's a mortifying ordeal, being known. they say that when love is unreliable and you are a child, you assume that it is the nature of love to be unreliable. in the beginning, the love you get is the love that sets. now, at the tailend of the thought, kaveh thinks - acceptance is a quiet room.

kaveh tosses a smile over his shoulder to bleed the stilting lilt of the silence out from between them. ]

You have a way of noticing things about people all the bits that can be and should be admired. I think you're a kind soul, but I know more about Miss Closure than I do about you. [ ... ] So, the landship. Where was it headed? How large was it, and were there any chandeliers on it?

[ Midnight's not surprised to be contradicted, per se — he's been told he's wrong plenty of times, and sometimes he even believes it — no, it's the idea that this stranger knows something about Miss Closure that he doesn't that gives him pause. He does take a bit of offense to that in the beat that follows, visible eyebrow raised in mild disbelief. He'll laugh in response to the questions, following Kaveh obediently back to the store with the chandelier. ]

It was at rest, actually, on the border of Victoria. As for size... Ooh, I'd say it's about the same as any large corporate landship, but since it's a military, medical, and research facility on top of an industrial plant with its own distribution centers, it tends to feel a bit full at times.

[ Midnight says this with warmth, though. He likes the people of RI. It's not a place once leaves willingly. ]

As for the chandeliers... Well, that fluctuates a bit. The Doctor tends to express themselves with the decor in the common rooms, so every so often, I'll walk into a break room expecting a vending machine, only to find a classic Gaulish walking garden instead. It can get a bit jarring, but it's in good fun.

[ ... The rest of the conversation can be processed later. Midnight's good at remembering to take things out and consider them. Perhaps a bit too good. ]

[ he shouldn't have said that, kaveh thinks. calling it instinct would be giving it too much credit. there are a subset of people who look at kaveh and assume that he is warm and gregarious by nature, when in reality, the attribution is comparative. comparatively speaking, kaveh is warm and gregarious - one could compare an avidyan spinocrocodile to a riboshland tiger, and come out with the conclusion that the riboshland tiger was both warmer, and gregarious. in truth, when all's said and done and the closing in of a mistake of kaveh's own making rears its head, kaveh, who has consistently lived his fight or flight instincts and allowed them to form the brimming basis of his existence - always chooses fight.

but he shouldn't have done that, and kaveh watches as the opportunity to apologise wind away down the primordial river bed, and, for a moment, chances a look back at midnight. the man appears to be unperturbed. kaveh looks back, and then, turning, steps through the sliding doors once more. ]

In truth, that description strikes up a sense of envy in me. To think one can change the environment quickly enough that those who live there can't quite keep up - there must be some kind of technological advance that allows for it, or a refinement of a logistical process that's surpassed anything that I've seen. I've always thought of the world as a wide place - I've never thought of turning that word to its plural form. But why not? [ why not other universes? teyvat had its own layers. it should follow that beyond the stars laid more. this wouldn't've been, however, how kaveh would have wanted to find out about this sort of thing, though kaveh also supposes that perhaps there were no good ways of finding out about it.

the chandelier continues to shine in its place. kaveh considers it and the makeshift ladder they've created, and then allows his eyes to trace the rows of lights above across the room itself. kaveh muses: ] And now we want this chandelier, and may it remind you of the times when your break room had them. There has to be something that controls this light source. There's energy still in there; that's not something you'd like to touch with your bare hands. Well, my bare hands. Can you touch it with your bare hands?

[ Once Midnight reviews the footage later, much later on in the day once he's exhausted himself twice over, the bare minimum he needs to sleep at night, he'll realize that the offense branched out from a desire to know people intensely. Sometimes on a level that others don't necessarily want to share. Selfish again. He doesn't have access to the complexities of the heart, as much as he's good at divining what might be inside. It's a little childish to want what other people might have, especially if they never intended to give it in the first place. Kaveh and Miss Closure have an understanding that only engineers share. It's all right to leave it at that. It belongs to them.

(Never envy. Envy is the enemy. Not again. Not ever again.)

He'll tell Kaveh that next they meet. Not that he imagines that Kaveh noticed anything went wrong at all... He'd just like to know what he thinks. ]

No, not at all. I think we'd both find that a rather unpleasant experience if we tried, but...

[ Midnight casts around, spots a set of switches next to the cash registers. Perfect. He begins walking around displays to reach them. ]

I'll go turn the lights out, first. Wait there, I'll be back.

[ That will leave Kaveh in relative darkness, but that's why he's going. He knows he can make it back without bruised shins, and he'd rather keep an eye on Kaveh while they're together. This city hasn't proven itself to be completely safe, after all. ]

[ the lights dim. it's a fallacy to think it, but the entire store seems to tend toward silence with it. light makes a space; people make a space. kaveh had remembered a home that had been a sanctuary of warmth and light, wherein people didn't need to speak in order to become something living between its walls. darkness, in contrast, brings out all the little needless vicissitudes of life. you didn't get very far looking through it, though mankind have always searched for the brightest way forward regardless. it was why they invented lights. and then, because the world has always been kind for it, it's also why the rtwahists looked towards the stars. midnight disappears in the chiaroscuro of racks and shelves that line the floor of the store. kaveh looks out into the murk, and then, as his eyes begin to adjust, up at the light itself.

the little flashlight he'd picked up clicks in his hand. kaveh points it upwards, tracing the reflection of the chandelier, and begins to climb. the light is still warm to the touch, but rapidly cooling - which is a good thing. midnight has the cloth bag. kaveh patiently waits until midnight has returned, and then, with a tilt of his head, considers the silent fall of his footfalls. ]

Can you find one of the larger screwdrivers? It ought to have the heavier grip.

[ Midnight comes back to find Kaveh already up the chair. He grins. Well, that's about what he expected. He searches within the depths of the bag, his eyes easily focusing at this range, and pulls the largest screwdriver he can manage from its depths. He reaches up and pats the back of Kaveh's hand again, putting the screwdriver within his grasp. ]

Here. Do you need another hand for your light?

[ He'll hold the chair steady, regardless, but he's resigned himself to drifting along in Kaveh's wake. He's happy with that, honestly. Kaveh seems to be here for the process, the joy of discovery. Midnight's quite content with just the endproduct. ]

I confess, I'm still thinking about your adjustments to my experiment and what they entail... Do you know another three people who would help? I know of a couple, perhaps, but I've only just arrived myself. Haven't done much to ingratiate myself to the masses just yet.

[ #Soon. ]

[ midnight passes kaveh his screwdriver. even in the slanting, uncertain light, his touch on the back of kaveh's hand is sure. it's a pat, kaveh thinks, a tactile bit of communication. it's one-way. there's an inference kaveh can draw from this, though he supposes that the inference he will draw is that midnight is rather true to his name. his ability to see in the dark is remarkable. he must have good eyes. it sort of makes kaveh envious; it would make the exploration of king deshret's lost tunnels and ruins far easier if kaveh didn't have to navigate by dendro light, and therefore be at risk of alarming every sentry in existence still buried beneath the sands.

still, he hums as he twirls the screwdriver between his fingers, his gaze considering the fall of light and shadow and his angle of attack. ]

A hand would be welcome. Here, hold this up at an angle. Try not to have the light catch my shoulder. [ kaveh passes down the flashlight. and then, with deft fingers, begins to work at the first screw.

still: ] And... oh, what makes you think that, actually? You know more people than I do. There's that Sylvain fellow, and he lives with that Dimitri fellow, doesn't he? Now you've two. I'm happy to volunteer myself, so that's three... [ a screw pops from his holding. kaveh presses it into the palm of his hand as he braces the light with the other. he start on the second. ] And there were plenty of other kind respondents on that bulletin post as well. And that Operator Broca fellow. Couldn't you ask them? Some of the other ones were clearly willing to help you without knowing you besides the drunk and the naked part; they'll be willing hands for just about anything else.

[ Midnight dutifully holds the flashlight at the angle requested, shifting around until the shadows cast by its light does little to hinder Kaveh's work. ]

Perhaps I'm I bit loathe to call in favors I haven't earned, then. Just knowing people kind enough to lend you their kindness in moments of prescience isn't the same as soliciting them for time they might use for other pursuits...

[ Midnight laughs suddenly, the light shaking with the motion. ]

Or perhaps I simply enjoy my solo ventures a bit too much to share them indiscriminantly. Present company excluded, of course. I do appreciate the offer.

[ light sears through the darkness, taking with it motes of ambient dust. kaveh feels for the minute creak that suggests the screw is very much at its limit (that sounded wrong?), and then, carefully, begins on the last screw before the first one's entirely out (that also sounds wrong??) so that he can remove the entire thing in one, steady go.

laughter splashes light across the minute facets of the chandelier. it refracts, like a waterfall dissipating into atmosphere. ]

Wait, so you were hoping I would have people which I can ask for favours I haven't earned? Crafty. [ not a single note of censure; laughing in turn as kaveh teases, his hands and fingers sure. ] I think I understand where you're coming from. Or at least, my interpretation of it. I've never liked troubling others, or how am I supposed to know that what I've got going on is any more important than what other people have going on? What is it that they'll gain from this that I can offer? Favours are tricky things. And owing someone unilaterally is...

[ well, you'd get alhaitham and kaveh, wouldn't you. kaveh winces. ] Anyway, see if you can come up here and hold onto the light. I'm going to lower it. It will be fixed to the ceiling on the inside. I'll have to take a look at it to figure out if it needs to be unscrewed or cut.

[ What a lovely laugh. Midnight resolves to give Kaveh more reasons to air the sound out. ]

Sure, sure. Just a moment.

[ The light recedes, but only for a moment, as Midnight locates a second chair in the dark and pulls it beside him and clambers upward, hand on Kaveh's shoulder briefly until he's balanced the chandelier in one hand. Once he's certain neither of them are about to topple over, he refocuses the light back upward. ]

Do understand that you're the one doing me an immense kindness here, by the way. If we speak of favors, I consider myself in your debt.

[ the light touch of a hand on kaveh's shoulder. kaveh still beneath it, planting his feet like oak, like a two-legged plane, and waits for midnight to find his balance. the weight of the chandelier eases against his own hand. kaveh lets the weight rest for a moment, and then, with deft fingers, finishes unscrewing the rest of the whole ordeal. the three little screws find their way into a pocket as he gently guides midnight to lower the chandelier from its fixture.

a hum: ]

What kindness? I'm an architect without anything to build, and I've been meaning to figure out how the electrical system here works. In a way, I owe you for giving me this chance to figure things out. I wouldn't have started with the chandelier. [ hm. the light trails in. kaveh observes the line of wiring snaking into the ceiling proper, and then, leaning up on his tiptoes, observes the little electrical box within. he can unscrew this, he thinks. kaveh tips his head. ] Can you pass me the voltage tester? It's the orange, rectangular thing that looks a little like it ought to have been shaped from a carrot. [ and then, in that selfsame tone: ] Are you the type to count debts and favours, Midnight? Isn't that tiring?

Then I consider this exchange quite mutual. Love that.

[ Nothing to build, huh... Midnight holds position quite still, obedient and quiet in a way that would drive his dear commending officer up a wall to see. When prompted, he looks into the bag, finding the tool in question quite handily, and passes it to Kaveh, peeking over his shoulder to watch him work. Clever man, clever hands. Much to admire. (Much to fall for, if one was so inclined.)

He holds the partially dismantled chandelier instead of answering straightaway. He does have an answer to this question, yes, but he'd rather be delicate about it. He doesn't mind being misunderstood, but only when he never intended to be understood in the first place. ]

It is tiring. However, I've found that when I don't keep track of my debts, others are quite happy to do so for me. I'd prefer having the power to shape those sorts of relationships.

[ ... A short bark of laughter. It's both harsh and deeply abashed, somehow. ]

I like giving gifts. Those I give for free. But I need to have enough to give first.

[ kaveh considers this. the voltage tester in hand, he carefully checks its power source, and then runs it gently across the wiring. the readings are intuitive enough. with the breaker tripped, the machine returns a negative. kaveh hums, carefully removing the tester and dropping it with precision back into the cloth bag below. then, he begins to run his fingers across the little electrical box there. a finer screwdriver, and a pair of pliers just in case. kaveh calls out: ]

The little screwdriver, please. And the pliers, in case I need to wrench it from its place. Sorry, you'll have to hold the chandelier for a bit longer.

[ midnight's response takes longer to parse. the picture is made of disparate parts - gestalt theory, that the sum of the parts is greater than the whole, but most importantly, that each piece needs to be congruent in ways that the brain can easily arrange into its existing schema. someone who prefers to operate alone, preferring to have power to shape these relationships, and the need to have enough to give first.

kaveh thinks, this man has drawn a line in the sand between himself and the world. the line has a neat box-like shape to it. it's a line that one can plainly see when you look down. there's something lonely about this, too, because this sort of mechanism for existence doesn't occur in a vacuum. one has to look at the cards they are dealt before they create rules for it. one has to be hurt by them first. ]

You've strength to you. [ kaveh says, before he can think better of it. and then, in the darkness, he grimaces, because this is what had gotten him into trouble earlier. the filter between mind and mouth never seems particularly robust. kaveh shakes his head. ] Sorry, I'm not judging, or commenting. I shouldn't be. I've felt the weight of debt myself [ or still feels it now, he thinks, but this he'd rather not think about, ] and I know I'm not able to do much more than shoulder it. I only ask because I think it's tiring too.

[ kaveh wants the strength to gift, is the thing. but kaveh's never wanted anything without guilt. it's too much of a thought for the moment, too much entirely, really. so kaveh considers the make of the chandelier. ]

Mutual exchange, then. I'll help you install this chandelier where you live, and you can do something for me. Is that okay?

[ Midnight hums in the way men sometimes do when they're pleased to do a menial task that requires nothing but patience and a comparatively small amount of physical exertion that they're nonetheless happy to give. ]

Thank you. I work out.

[ In response to the comment about his strength, of course. This laugh is the usual self-centered delight at his own jokes, free of the raw, rough cut edges from before. ]

It's more than all right, both the exchange and your observations, although you'll have to forgive me when I say I don't actually have a home for the chandelier just yet. I'm scouting locations.

[ There's a Plan. Midnight's good at plans, when he puts his mind to them.

With regard to the observation, though... Well, Midnight has less to say about that to someone he's only just met, especially when he's already acknowledged it. What's worth saying about strength, anyway, when he's already applying it, actively, currently, in the exact way he wants to: helping someone with something they do best? ]

You deserve to be less tired, darling. I think most people do.

[ Except himself, of course, but Midnight's always thought himself rather exceptional. ]

[ why can't more men be like you, midnight, @ alhaitham in this chat. the joke lands. kaveh considers it for a moment - midnight's sense of humour is a buoy. it makes kaveh think that the man is giving him just enough width to either slide by, or enough rope to hang himself with. he doesn't know what it is with midnight that has kaveh say all the things that he really ought not to say, only that it has been some time since he's felt like this: a little off kilter, a little unlike himself, a little too much like himself.

still, the moment passes. it ought to, or rather, it must, because there are two things to address here and kaveh's considerable attention suddenly swings down from where he had been tweezing open an electrical box to stare down at midnight's upturned face. it proves futile through the beam of the flashlight; kaveh blinks, rapidly, and then, because he's kaveh, says: ]

- give me that. [ he reaches down to take it.

and then, swinging that beam around and down: ] Wait, Midnight. [ midnight. kaveh's eyes narrow into little red, suspicious slits. ] We're stealing a chandelier that you've no idea where you're going to put?

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