vatheon | And another curse over.

Who: Sol, anyone in Phasma who might be affected
When: Monday morning
Where: Phasma 2-3
Style: Whatever anyone wants /o/
Status: Open

Having possibility stare you in the face was usually a good thing.

Having it stare you in the face, breathe down your neck, and threaten everything around you? Not so good.

Sol'd shifted his schedule, sleeping in the day, dealing with the nightmare at night. He'd also gone back up to the island for the week, not wanting anyone to be around him due to a shorted temper and just generally wanting no one to know about it. There'd been enough going on across the network that week to be more than sufficiently distracting for others, and Sol had no plans to join the mess. Fighting the image of himself after losing all sense of humanity was something no one needed to see, especially since it revealed much more than he wanted anyone knowing.

Nightmare fucked with his head, still, even after it ended. He could separate it from memory, but it dragged up a whole assortment of things he hadn't really thought about in almost 200 years. Good things, bad things--lots of bad, considering this thing managed to unnerve him entirely in ways Sol hadn't expected. Prompted a great big "fuck you, Vatheon" sort of thing.

The trek from the island to his apartment is uneventful, at least. He ignores the singe marks, instead flopping unceremoniously onto his bed.

...although that might be a chunk of the ceiling finally giving away from fire damage and crashing to the floor from the first day. Huh. ...And that was part of the floor.

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Seriously, Ky? Breaking in his door--now what's he gonna do about that? He can probably fix it on his own, but it's such a pain in the ass. Maybe take advantage of the kid's good nature for that... Maybe. Eh. He'll figure it out when he actually sees it and discovers the cause. But like Ky, the week's been little more than a mass of stress and high-strung nerves, even if he's managed more sleep than the kid. He's still set off instantly, but he moves more slowly, conserving energy as he rolls out of bed and stands--

--and realizes that it's nothing to worry about. Distinct difference between Gears and humans, even at this distance, and for a moment he isn't sure why he thought it could be anything but human. He walks out into the main space with a tired swagger, right hand behind his neck to rub away tension and eyes only half-open. When he stops, he stops directly in front of Ky and moves his left hand to his pocket. After a second, his right hand drops to his side and his weight shifts opposite.

"Knockin' works."

Normally. Sol isn't normal and he might well ignore knocking, to be perfectly fair. But there's so little inflection in his tone that it's impossible to tell what sort of sentiment lies behind it. In truth, there really isn't one.

Edited 2012-11-15 20:53 (UTC)

Ky takes a long moment to stare at Sol when he appears and assess him, making sure that he looks alright -- and actually alright, not Sol-just-after-a-battle, covered in his intruder's blood sort of alright. He relaxes a little when he notices that Sol doesn't really look on edge at all, looks more sleepy than anything else, in a deadly and also irritating sort of way.

"Your ceiling is falling on me." Ky musters up his most prissy voice for it, stance changing to something more anticipatory than the defensive it had been, but still a far sight from relaxed. (Of course, as Sol well knows, Ky doesn't really ever relax. Not if he gets a choice about it.)

"I am...sorry about the door. But what's wrong with your floor?" Ky takes a moment to peer at it, looking for signs of an attack taking place in Sol's apartment. Which he can find, easily. Singe marks, that sort of thing... "Who's attacked you here?"

Sol just stares, ready to just turn around and go back to his bedroom and crash again. But no, kid has to open his mouth and... He makes a noise that's so brief and flat that it could only be dull inquiry, neither bothered nor surprised by the fact that the space separating their apartments is falling away thanks to excessive damage. He looks around himself, back over a shoulder to the scorch marks along the ceiling and the walls, and, yes, the floor. Another shift of weight and he's looking back to Ky.

Geez, kid; someone get him a Benzodiazepine or something. Even if they'd have to force it down his throat, probably. Not that Sol really advocates use of psychoactive drugs without testing, but...

And then Ky has to ask about the state of things. Sol moves to snatch a pack of cigarettes from a nearby surface, tapping one out and lighting it in a few rough jerks. When he speaks again, his attention's still on the carton rather than on Ky.

"Coral." Matter-of-factly, void of inflection. He doesn't want to talk about it, and it's not really anything Ky has any business asking him about. And of course by "coral" he means the last curse; he's not going to call it a curse, though.

"The..." Ky takes a couple of moments to get it, spends a moment staring at the scorch marks and trying to make sense of them, before it hits him. What had happened, Ky's nightmares, hadn't affected anything physical. He had seen people die, seen their blood get spattered by forms that sometimes might have been Gears -- and other times might have been him, or each other -- but there had been no physical blood splatter after the fact.

Besides, all the damage looks fire-based, like Sol's own magic.

Despite the actual train of thoughts, it doesn't take Ky very long to get to the end, and then he chooses to, very politely and unusually when it comes to Sol, not say anything. If Sol wanted to lash out at his nightmares...then perhaps Ky should count himself lucky that the ceiling was all that fell on him, and after the fact at that.

Still, Ky wrinkles up his nose at the cigarette smoke, and studies Sol for a moment longer, looking for something more.

"Do you need help repairing things?" See, Sol, Ky is totally ready and willing to help, beyond even the fact that it would stop any more things from falling on him.

Bingo. The kid can put two and two together. But it's a marked improvement that Ky doesn't launch into questioning him; Sol would have just turned away and ignored him, but it was still kind of obnoxious to deal with and in this situation might well have prompted his brand of telling-off. Even with the temporal incongruity of this place when it snatched people up, though, it was relieving to see the kid picking up the same ideas he had when they'd last met going by Sol's recent experiences before Vatheon.

Theoretically. Ky could easily fail to really register anything and they'd be back to square obnoxious. Which it looks like they're doing with Ky asking questions instead of going away. Ky could have a field day with repairs if he wanted, so long as it isn't right now. Because right now, he just wants to sleep.

After a long, silent moment spent eying Ky past the haze of smoke, Sol cocks his head.

"Y'in any state t'do anything, boy?" It's chastising, challenging but not in a way that actually expects answering; just a gruff pointing out that if Ky's broken down his door for a bit of plaster, then he's probably not in any shape to be running about. He doesn't know the sort of week Ky's had, but there are signs.

There might be signs, but Ky would certainly prefer to ignore them. He had faced nights of nightmares before, and doubtless would again, and he still had to be able to function at the end of them. And that's simply a matter of keeping pushing, because even if the 'curse' has ended, the thoughts it had provoked haven't.

He'll be able to sleep if he exhausted himself enough by the end of the day, nothing more or less. Which means pushing even when he's getting near his limit, and Ky isn't there yet. A little less sleep will hardly kill him.

Ky unconsciously stands a little straighter, as if to prove how good of a shape he's in. "Of course I am."

...Which is the source of basically every issue surrounding Ky: ignoring them. Damned kid. Unless you face those nightmares and learn to push past them, they're always going to haunt you. Granted, Sol has had a very long time to learn that one. Staying sane had been the more pressing matter, at first.

Doesn't help that sleep deprivation can lead to auditory and visual hallucinations, which are the last thing Ky needs. And the human body requires sleep and rest for a reason.

Sol's not buying the change in posture.

"No. Go t'bed b'fore y'add to th' mess."

Surely usual rules about nightmares shouldn't apply when they're the result of externally-imposed hallucinations to begin with. Ky can probably cope with the ones that come from whatever his own head can cook up just fine by now, right?

Ky's eyes widen, outraged by the order, by Sol trying to order him to bed like Ky doesn't know his own limits just fine. And his limits right now are pushing him to start a fight with Sol, because that at least he does understand.

"You can't just send me to bed like a child, Sol. If you need help so that my ceiling doesn't fall in on me when I'm trying to actually get sleep, then that's what I'm here to do! And if you're not going to help, then I'll just do it by myself!" Ky's aware that he feels more emotional about this even than he usually would, but he doesn't want to stop to examine that.

If he can just get this over with and fix Sol's floor, then he'll be able to sleep.

And another curse over.

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