unrequite: (01)
demon king of the east, midnight ([personal profile] unrequite) wrote in [community profile] citylogs2023-07-12 11:54 am

[ OPEN ] July Catch-all!

WHO: Midnight ([profile] 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.




fussiest: (pic#16494335)

[personal profile] fussiest 2023-07-21 04:30 am (UTC)(link)
[ 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?
fussiest: (pic#16494268)

[personal profile] fussiest 2023-07-21 06:26 am (UTC)(link)
[ 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.
fussiest: (pic#16494270)

[personal profile] fussiest 2023-07-26 06:52 am (UTC)(link)
[ 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.
fussiest: (pic#16494216)

[personal profile] fussiest 2023-08-13 01:52 am (UTC)(link)
[ 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.
fussiest: (pic#16494336)

[personal profile] fussiest 2023-08-13 03:50 am (UTC)(link)
[ 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?
fussiest: (pic#16494315)

[personal profile] fussiest 2023-08-13 07:29 am (UTC)(link)
[ 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?
fussiest: (pic#16494221)

[personal profile] fussiest 2023-08-14 06:58 am (UTC)(link)
[ 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?
fussiest: (pic#16494339)

[personal profile] fussiest 2023-08-14 08:27 am (UTC)(link)
[ midnight laughs. the edge of hysteria is tempered by the way he looks as he does so in the light - dark hair spilling into murk, the softening of the long, lean lines of his face into something like elation-made-motion. this midnight is different than the midnight kaveh has been speaking to. this midnight is the same as the midnight kaveh has been speaking to. it's a matter of perspective. vision, alhaitham had once told him, begins not in the eyes, but in the brain. and kaveh - what he is thinking, is that midnight's eyes hadn't been red after all. they are pink.

kaveh's judgment wars with the scowl of something like abject exasperation. it is tempered, only, by the knowledge that it's a stake not worth fighting, mirth in a situation as ridiculous as it is funny.
]

Given how our two meetings thus far have involved you and some manner of crime, what am I supposed to believe? [ is what he says, light and quick. ] Are you planning on carting a chandelier around as you look for a place to roost? What manner of new workout is this? At least have a warehouse for your things! And where have you been sleeping all this time?
fussiest: (pic#16494336)

[personal profile] fussiest 2023-08-14 09:44 am (UTC)(link)
[ darling, kaveh thinks. that's the third time. you didn't get very far as a world-renowned architect if you took it to heart every time a client said something flattering about you. you also didn't get very far as kaveh if you didn't know where you stand with things. that's the thing - one can be beautiful and undesirable. kaveh understands it to be both. the choice of wording, then, has kaveh pause in something like consideration, a riboshland tiger having looked down from its branch and noticing something with fangs lurking beneath still waters.

kaveh crouches. his elbows settle on his knees. with the two-tiered table system they have going, it puts him at eyelevel with midnight with a nary few inches between them. the light is tilted down, just enough that their faces are cast in shadow. kaveh looks.
]

Midnight, you are flirting with me. [ kaveh says, with something like cautious bemusement. ] Are you doing it on purpose, or are you just like this?
fussiest: (pic#16494283)

kanna.... have u slept...

[personal profile] fussiest 2023-08-14 12:18 pm (UTC)(link)
[ midnight's eyes, kaveh thinks, really are pink. they are pink in the way one might describe the exact ratio of pale chalk pigment mixed with the crushed shells of insects. you couldn't use that pink to describe a hazy fontainais dawn. that would be too benign. it's the sort of pink that came with promise of warning, a single band of it across a frog's back, the feather of a tail-spined bird. it was a pink that reminded you that it was humans who attributed weakness to it, that in nature, it had always been the colour that informed predators that there was blood in the water.

kaveh is thinking about that trail of blood as he studies the sharp-hooked edge of midnight's grin. the initial mortification is there, as is the impetus to step back. kaveh is only human. he is a man who bleeds when cut, who bruises when hurt, and who burns when put to the torch. nobody ought to look at the cast of midnight's dark lashes into the bleeding sea of his eyes and not understand the implications there.

but that's the thing, with kaveh. when you live in a perpetual state of fight or flight, your instincts eventually get used to the process of it. and only those who don't know kaveh well will assume that he tends towards flight. midnight grins, and kaveh looks, and kaveh thinks-
]

So why is it that your flirtations became overt when I began asking about your living standards? Should I call this a deflection pattern recognition instead? [ kaveh makes a face. as if to forestall the argument, he lifts his finger. it ghosts itself over the line of midnight's lips like the infinite approach of a sweeping asymptote
] We can at least wait until we've gotten the chandelier down before one of us has to call someone's bluff or another and this ends up all over the floor. Are we at least in agreement for this?
fussiest: (pic#16494274)

looks... at.... (but good!!!)

[personal profile] fussiest 2023-08-15 05:52 am (UTC)(link)
[ like a chameleon changing its colours, kaveh thinks, or a snake retracting its bite. but that bright pink remains the same. a storm would recognise its own ilk anywhere. do like things not draw upon one another like starvation? but kaveh thinks: it's a colour that belongs on a canvas wider than this one.

kaveh breathes out, low, slow, in the way of a sigh.
]

If we're going down that route, might I point out that you were passed out drunk with your picture being circulated when I first laid eyes on you? Are you not at least culpable for half this conversation's existence? [ kaveh retracts his finger. and then, uncoiling from his crouch, he slips the flashlight into his mouth, and points it up. the beam of light cuts once again through the cloistered darkness, illuminating the little electrical box.

thirty seconds of a pair of screws and a bit of pliering, and the weight of the chandelier sinks into midnight's hand proper. kaveh removes the flashlight from his mouth, and, because kaveh, first shakes out his hair.
]

Done. That wasn't so difficult. [ he maintains his position on his chair with care, and looks down. ] Can you get it down to the floor? Do you need a hand?
fussiest: (pic#16494323)

[personal profile] fussiest 2023-08-16 03:10 am (UTC)(link)
[ midnight says 'dear' in the way that causes kaveh's caustic knee-jerk reflex to spit out an equally confounding 'and in what way am i dear to you'? but kaveh thinks, he's starting to understand it - or understand his own need to build his own understanding of it. the elderly neighbour next door with her near-blindness and her tendency to fuss over each and every member of sumeran society unlucky enough to be within fussing distance says 'dear' in the way that has failed first children of high-expectation parents everywhere to prickle up in something like abject shame. midnight says it with a laugh that bleeds into the darkness of the clothing shop.

more than enough, midnight says. kaveh's head cants in something like acquiescence, and then he sets himself to rearrange his hairclips. deft hands, deft feet, they bring him down onto ground level so that he can watch with the swaying light in his hands midnight swallow the chandelier up with his jacket.
]

No, I think the chandelier is in rather safe hands. But if it happens to be damaged because, say, you run into someone you need to hit over the head with something and the chandelier is all that you have, let me know. I know where to get little crystals that look like those to fix them back into place. [ kaveh begins, and then, perhaps a little less forcefully- ] ... and I am sorry, for what it's worth. I don't usually... [ kaveh's fingers slot his clips into place. then, at a loss for what to do next, he waves his hand vaguely. ] Or rather, I shouldn't have had that sort of reaction. I've said a few things I probably shouldn't have. Don't take them to mind.

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