citylogs | [ closed ] out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field

[Alhaitham huffs out a laugh as Kaveh goes through the argument in his own head and comes around--but not without some protest.] Sure, I'll read all those posts again and make you a list.

[Or he'll make a solicitation post directing people to contact Kaveh if the architecture here is familiar. As long as he anticipates it, it's fine, right.] As for me, aside from helping sort through all of that information you're going to collect, I'll continue to look for inconsistencies in this place. If it is real, then people aren't infalliable. They would have slipped up somewhere.

Maybe you'll be the one counting stitching next.

[ but there's a satisfied ring to that determination. it's a plan towards a way forward. who knows where it will lead, but it's not as though alhaitham and kaveh hadn't done worse. though the last research project they had worked on jointly had ended in a way whose ripple effects can still be felt today.

kaveh's head tilts. he picks at a clip that's falling astray, and then, with a flick of his fingers, undoes it so that he can gather the blond swathe of his hair up and out of his face. ] So you've claimed an apartment? Which one? In this building?

I wouldn't waste my time. [Because the truth is Alhaitham wouldn't have put enough stock in the qualtiy of the clothing to review every stitch and realize their odd uniformity. That is a priority uniquely Kaveh.

Alhaitham knows well what they're capable of together--they both do, in fact. The way it ended, however, is something turned over only once in his mind before being put to rest. The stakes this time are different. The situation is uncomparable. The end could be the same, because Kaveh will not release his sacrificing ways once he's put his mind to it and Alhaitham won't value strangers left behind if an escape comes only for them (and Tighnari and Cyno). But there's no point in worrying about the potential before they've even begun to unravel the mystery.

To Kaveh he offers a single nod.] This building on the third floor. They're free for the taking, like everything else.

[ a non-committal hum. kaveh's hands carve through his hair. he pulls out a few more clips; the red, wooden bits collect in his lap as he systematically unravels and winds his hair into something that clears the tugging discomfort gathering along his scalp. this building on the third floor - there's no need for a room number. kaveh has the unfortunate sense that the moment he steps into that hallway, he's going to know without a shadow of a doubt which room alhaitham has claimed for his own. there's a discomfort in his certainty. kaveh lets it rest.

instead, after a moment: ]

I don't have a debt here, Alhaitham.

[Alhaitham's gaze locks on Kaveh as he falls into silence, and doesn't stray once from him while he runs his fingers through his hair to adjust the style. It's his full focus dedicated to a puzzle of complex and nuanced pieces--look away, and he might miss seeing the most important component.]

You don't. Or rather, your debts don't matter here. [As far as Alhaitham can tell, there isn't even a currency that could trap him in a debt. It isn't true freedom, trading one shackle for another...

But this shackle doesn't tie him to Alhaitham's roof. That, he is painfully aware of.]

[ point. kaveh's head cants in the form of graceful acquiescence. it's the sort of nuance that a haravatat would appreciate, the kind of gap between words that split them from phoneme to etymon, teasing out the fragments of mirror shards that make up its meaning. but for a kshahrewar, who deals in stone and lumber and paint mixing ratios, a ledger is a ledger whether dyed in red or black.

alhaitham already knows the unsaid. kaveh breathes out. ]

Well, if Dori shows up on the next train, it'll be a different sort of debt. [ though the lack of currency means that there's a void to be filled. economic measures may value other things in a world where resources seems to replenish. but they don't know if it will all replenish. in that uncertainty, value can be created, and kaveh knows how easy it is to exploit it. ] Honestly, the first thing I did when I realised where I was, or rather - where I wasn't - and who was or wasn't here, I found a park and laid in the grass. Perhaps my shoulders felt a bit lighter. Nobody here knows who I am, yet, either.

[Yet, because even without the Palace of Alcazarzaray, without debts, without Sumeru, Kaveh was not given the title of Light of Kshahrewar for anything but his own merit. Like all living things are drawn to the sun, perhaps Kaveh making a name for himself is inevitable.]

And? Would you make yourself known once again as an architect?

[It's not a priority. Making a life in this place isn't even the twentieth thing on Alhaitham's mind. But are these not questions Kaveh will ask himself anyway, if in the dead of night instead of sitting in the lobby in front of him?]

Well, there's nothing wrong with being an architect, right? Everyone has a profession to call their own, and I've been introducing myself as that; it's second nature, almost.

[ it has always seemed to kaveh that alhaitham sees too much. there had been a time where two individuals had coexisted at the akademiya. there were days of shared exams, early mornings of dragging each other out of beds to make it to classes and late evening discussions on rooftops over existential structures. there were meetings in the back gardens where the rambutan trees bloomed profusely at certain times of the year. there were shared meals, and shared arguments, and shared growth. and then there hadn't.

kaveh has always been too little himself, and too much himself when alhaitham shares the same picture frame. he looks at him, and knows the substance of the question being proposed. they're in the lobby instead of under the stars at midnight, and kaveh asked and is asked - who is kaveh? what will he be?

it's not a question to which an answer will come easily, though kaveh suspects that if you asked alhaitham the same question, alhaitham would have something ready. something unshakeable, a conviction beyond judgment. kaveh looks up. his lips quirk, perhaps a little helplessly. ]

So... I ought to find an apartment, then. I've always wanted one with a view. Some of these towers go up quite high, and I've been wondering how they managed to build it like that.

[It could be said Kaveh condemned himself to be seen too much by Alhaitham the day he dared approach him in the House of Daena. What else was he, a man who seeks to know simply for the sake of holding knowledge, meant to do when someone as paradoxically false and sincere as Kaveh decided to walk into his life? And in his years of solving the puzzle known as Kaveh though shared meals, shared arguments, shared growth, Alhaitham ceded too much of himself in turn.

He hums, a sound that hovers in the middle between affirmation and inevitability. There's nothing wrong with being an architect. Kaveh could make himself into anything he wanted. His nature will make him walk the same path over again as if the choice wasn't there at all.

Alhaitham scoops the book in his hand just before stands.] You might as well see it.

[The apartment he's staying in.] Since I'm sure you'll need to know. I wasn't picking through them before I decided, but it has two bedrooms.

[It's not an offer in the same way that Kaveh would never ask. Alhaitham has no rationale to argue except that they were roommates in Sumeru, and so could be roommates again. The details of which are too vulnerable to admit. So he'll leave Kaveh to make the choice based on conjecture alone.]

[ hasn't it always been like this? kaveh asks without ever asking; alhaitham offers without ever offering. but the scoop of the book into alhaitham's hands is like the ring of a bell, the chime of a clock at midnight.

kaveh looks, and, because he is kaveh, allows a wry smile to creep up along the corners of his lips. he stands as well. the last clip is pressed and twisted into the back of his hair, and with whatever pent-up energy that has been dispelled in the last five minutes, he stretches up to his tip-toes. ]

Hah! I was wondering when you'll invite me to take a look. I'd like to see what you have, or rather, haven't done with the place. [ it's natural to do so. kaveh slides in next to alhaitham, step-for-step. the elevators are fifteen paces away. ] Do you even know which exposure you have? Forget it, I'll take a look myself.

My priority was a place for privacy and sleep. [And so he has not so much as touched the slightly mismatched decor of a tenant who said good enough, given my budget.

He shrugs his shoulder, looking over it to Kaveh as they reach the elevator door and he presses the button.] And I'm sure you'll have something to say about the view regardless.

[If Kaveh wants a higher view he'd better craft his argument quickly. Three floors isn't much, and then it's only two corners and a hallway to 312. If there was ever a welcome mat, that's long gone.]

Privacy and sleep. You ought to have just put up a tent on the side of the road. [ the elevator comes with the silver chime of a bell. kaveh ascends, and then, because he is kaveh, looks up as he considers the balance and weight of the box that's holding them up. it's nothing like deshretian ruins; the acceleration and deceleration is off. but unless kaveh breaks open the top, he won't be able to see the mechanisms involved.

another day. room 312, which kaveh had turned to unerringly - he looks at the plain door, and the pristine archway, and then peers back along the hallway to the equally plain doors leading down the nondescript corridor. somehow, this door seems even plainer than the other ones. it can't just be his imagination. kaveh's nose wrinkles - he tries the doorknob. ]

Why did you pick this one, and not the one down the hall? You might have had a thorough criteria, but you stopped at this one for some reason. Why?

[Please do not break the elevator Kaveh.]

A tent would offer neither privacy nor adequate rest. [And it's only because his apartment isn't far that they don't end up in an entire argument about that. Not now, anyway. Maybe later.

The doorknob... doesn't turn. Alhaitham doesn't even bother hiding the amusement before he pulls out the key--only after, of course, Kaveh just attempts to open the door himself.] I told you I wasn't picking through them. Why don't you wait to actually see the interior before asking that question?

[He sticks the key in the lock, turns, and then pushes open the door. The decor isn't familiar, a bit sparse but quaint enough. The eerie lived in feeling has passed since Alhaitham first walked into the doorway. The strange way the scent of home, their home, lingers has not.

Alhaitham walks in, taking the left turn towards the kitchen to open a drawer.]

[ home smells like alhaitham.

kaveh stops at the doorjamb. there's a dissonance between what the eyes see and what his body perceives. the bland, personality-stripped walls and city-standard furniture has nothing in common with the soft greens, browns and blacks that make up the former research center-turned-house that alhaitham and kaveh inhabit back in sumeru city. there is no greenery. there are no stained glass windows, or high arched ceilings. there is no dallah waiting in front of a divan for the coffee to be poured. but the little apartment smells like home, or did home always smell like this?

kaveh looks. the view out the window is anemic. it's a northern exposure, which lets in just enough neutral lighting for the walls themselves to glow faintly with reflected light. the space is undeniably small. after wandering the least-trodden paths of an unfamiliar city, kaveh feels a little overwhelmed.

after a moment, he follows. ]

You could have unlocked it before I tried the doorknob. Or you could have said something!

[It's a discordance Alhaitham had been hit with, considered, and then filed away as he does every new piece of information he obtains. It couldn't be coincidence, and yet it was only a phantom of familiarity clinging to unfamiliar walls until Kaveh, himself, walks in.

...

He'll have to check the commerce of this city for a furniture store. For an awful wood carving, or maybe a tacky ceramic.]

Or you could stop and think about your actions before you do them. Did you really think I was going to leave my space unlocked for anyone to get into?

[He plucks the second key out of the drawer, and places it with a very audible clatter on the counter. Kaveh can find it there once he's done with the tour.]

As if there's anything in here that's worth stealing - and the entire city knows.

[ as if sensing a disturbance in the aesthetic weave, kaveh wrinkles his nose. the look of abject suspicion that's cast alhaitham's way feels as if it's coming out of nowhere at all - but the clink of the keys across the countertop stills him. kaveh looks, first to the counter, then back to alhaitham.

and then, because he's kaveh, he looks along the counter to the stove top, then the large ice-box called the refrigerator, and then up along its cabinets one by one. ]

You really haven't done anything with this place. I knew, but seeing it is a different matter altogether. [ kaveh opens a cabinet with some interest, and then lets it fall shut once more. ] Give me the tour, then. I suspect it'll be brief, but I wasn't expecting anything more.

[There's really not, but that's more because of this place than anything Alhaitham will decide to keep around. Theft would only be petty revenge, if that.]

As you can see, we are currently standing in the kitchen. What you just left was the living room. [He gestures down to the hallway and makes exactly zero effort to move that way. Riveting tour, this.] Bathroom and the bedrooms are down that way. I've already decided on the left one.

[ closes his eyes. counts to ten. opens them again. ]

At least walk. [ there's a nudge there, shoulder-to-shoulder, as kaveh gives alhaitham an unfriendly bump. but the exasperation there is commonplace - you couldn't go a day without seeing it, if you lived with alhaitham. ] And point! And narrate! It's as if you're excising the last bit of fun out of this tour.

Ah, forget it. I'll look myself. [ hallway, living room. kaveh's voice floats out from behind him. ] You said yours is the left one?

You don't find my description engrossing? [In fact, Alhaitham is very entertained in this faux tour. He tilts his head back to watch Kaveh walk away.] I've given you all the relevant information you could have taken in with your own two eyes.

[Once his voice starts to echo down the hallway is when he finally turns around and follows at a leisurely pace.] That's right.

Spoilsport. You know those descriptions do nothing. The eyes perceive, but vision begins in the brain - wasn't it you who studied optics? [ the sweeping space of the hallway is, well, not quite sweeping. it has kaveh miss the sun-lit walkway of their shared house back in sumeru city, but there's a simplicity to it that begs for decorations on the walls.

more relevantly: the little nail-holes in the wall here and there that suggest there had been decorations there already. kaveh meanders down the hall, and peeks first into the right-hand bedroom, and then the left. ]

In any case, you could recite the most harrowing of tales, and it would end up sounding like a ledger of numbers. That's your special skill. Your descriptions did nothing for the sense of the rooms, the shape of the space and the potential in it.

- ah, you've picked the left-hand one because it get less lighting. Of course you did.

They provide exactly the necessary information to navigate the floor plan. If you were looking for lengthy descriptions of the angle on the archways or how to maximize the light from the windows over the course of the day, I believe that's your expertise.

[Not that he tried. Also, he just got here?]

I was originally thinking of making the right room a study. [Was. Before he knew Kaveh was in this predicament as well.

No comment on his preference for a darker bedroom. He has no need to justify that.]

[ was, alhaitham says. kaveh thinks - he wishes he had alhaitham's unflappable certainty, the kind that mere foundations of worlds were built upon. the room on the right-hand side allows in the natural lighting as befitting of a place with a northern exposure. the walls are bare, but tidy. there is a generic bed and a nightstand. there is space for wall-to-wall of bookshelves, little chests and tidy dressers, but most importantly, there is space for books.

it would be a lovely study. ]

Were there any decorations here? Other potential signs of life?

The photographs. [He gestures to the chest of drawers by the bed.] I didn't want them up, but don't throw them away.

[They don't know yet if there are clues within them that will only make sense with more information, so he intends to keep them--just, tucked away where he doesn't have to look at them.] They're in the same state as the ones you described. That's the only thing I've moved since walking in.

I knew it. Lazy.

[ kaveh's words are punctuated by the roll of his wrist - but there's perhaps something infinitely fond tucked away in its undertow, like a glimmer along the shores of a moonless sea. it's reassuring that there are things that wouldn't change, even when the world itself as upended. it's as if it were a statement of intent: alhaitham will be alhaitham regardless of circumstances.

what, then, is kaveh? the bare walls of the room unveils no real answer to that regard.

kaveh turns.

apropos of nothing: ]

Let's do dinner.

[At that, he only shrugs a shoulder. The bland furniture is perfectly servicable, and if Kaveh wants him to live in a place with color he'll have to take it into his own hands.]

I was wondering when you'd ask. You probably haven't eaten since you got here, huh?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject