Metaphorically
| Metaphorically | |
|---|---|
| Players |
Miel and Darwin go out for some socializing and encounter Ji-Ho. Darwin grumps at him. |
Things are /just/ starting to get dark out, the sky a muted blue as it begins to darken into evening. There's a proper strip that has been designed for foot traffic only, the bright glow of the shop signs illuminating the walkways between tall buildings. Darwin has lept at the chance to be social and maybe even normal, even if there's a curfew to mind. He waits for Miel on the corner, near a taco fusion joint, sporting a fancy vest beneath his overcoat this time. One would have to have _very good hearing_ to hear the dismayed little, "Noooo," that Ji-Ho makes to himself from the shadows of an alley as he pops back in all ready to go get some _tacos_ but there's _Darwin_ and he has a _vest_ and an _overcoat_. Sure would be a shame if Darwin had good hearing. The blue shirt is the nicest shirt in Miel's limited supply. High collar, button-down, three quarter sleeve, baring the forearm to the wrist. He wears it to job interviews (he wore it to Court). He's got a watch on: black with white hands, analog plastic but at least it's clean and appears functional, just like he does. He's showing willing. He's clean shaven, smooth-faced. His hair looks neat, mostly, though the traverse across the city has left it a little rumpled and frazzled where he sweated in the high heat of August. Oh, well. His jeans are too long and have frayed cuffs. His approach to the strip up the crosswalk is kind of a loping sidle. Something makes his steps slow as he comes to the last few feet, thick eyebrows drawing down and a little together. Darwin eagerly waves Miel over. "Hey! Thanks for coming. It's just easier to talk outside of text, you know? I'm not great with textual tone--" He pauses. He tips his head. He sniffs, then sniffs again. "Uhm, one sec." He pivots and moves straight for the alley. SNIFF. Ji-Ho is halfway up the wall by the time Darwin gets to the front of the alley. PARKOUR. He is literally scrambling up the side of the building, jumping and hauling himself up, with a wedged foot against the other side as he bounce-bounce-- Fingertips hooked on the edge of a window ledge, his feet scrabble at the brick as he tries to catch himself. Little bits of dirt and broken brick showers Darwin, along with the stink of F A I R Y. Miel opens his mouth, closes his mouth. Whatever he was expecting to happen on their meeting, it clearly wasn't Darwin zooming to the alley. //One sec// is clearly a request for Miel to wait, but he doesn't. He follows on, well, remarkably quiet steps for someone of his lanky height, his thumbs tucked against the loops of his jeans. His lips part as he looks up into Ji-Ho's scramble. His breath puffs past his teeth, a soft "hhh." Miel's instinct is immediate, instant. He says with maybe excessive ingenuousness, "What is it, did you hear something?" as he reaches up to catch Darwin by the shoulder, tugging him gently back to distract him from Ji-Ho's obvious desire to escape. Darwin squints as dirt tumbles down on him. "Yeah, uh, heard something weird..." As Miel gently tugs him back towards the strip, Darwin slips free. "What if someone's in trouble?" He jogs further into the alley, and he definitely does not have any parkour skills, so he glares up between the buildings. "I just wanna' talk!" he shouts. It's not a very friendly shout. There's just a long stretch of shadow laying against the building where there shouldn't be one, and then it sighs, and Ji-Ho drops. He didn't get that high. Dusting himself off, Ji-Ho gives Miel a quick glance of recognition and thanks as he eels around in a circle, trying to slide out of the alley without passing Darwin and keeping Miel between them. He's dressed in shades of charcoal and gray rather than true black, and his hair is a tousled mess. He dusts his hands off. "I wasn't following you," he says in a totally not suspicious way. Miel bites thoughtfully at his lower lip. He steps into the shadows of the alley, rolling his shoulders as he draws an inhalation. His whole body tensing, shoulders drawing straight, he says, "Uh... are you in trouble?" He focuses, trying to perceive what Darwin might see; not non-Euclidian shadow and rippling shades slip-sliding down the building and onto its feet, but a man in neat gray with rumpled hair. To fae senses, his fingers are long, streaked with jet, shading over the marble of his jaw, his eyes a wary shimmer of starlight even in his ingenuousness, but to Darwin, of course, he's still just a guy scratching his jaw in confusion. "Do you know each other?" he asks, in this tone ... this mediator's voice. Like on some level, other people's social problems are his to solve. Maybe I can help, says the loft of Miel's eyebrows. "Oh, I know this guy," Darwin mutters, moving closer. "You sent someone," he says in a hushed, sharp voice. "You sent someone /after/ me. It /must've/ been you. What the hell are you so afraid of?" At this point, he seems more wounded than angry, but the undercurrent of annoyance still lingers. AAAAA--. Ji-Ho eels around toward Miel as Darwin closes on him. "No, I have no idea who he is," he hisses in an instant denial of Darwin's mutter. He's just as hushed, quiet, with his whisper low and soft. He murmurs to Miel in an aside that teases in and out of hearing, "He can spot us. He knows something; I don't know what." Then, louder, "I didn't send anyone after you!" followed a moment later by, "Okay, I kind of sent someone after you, but just a little!" Miel's ears are unusually sharp, and the tilt of his had is subtle as he acknowledges Ji-Ho's whisper. The starlit eyes widen and then narrow; fear might be amongst Miel's reaction here but he's also instantly curious and-- is that hope? No. Can't possibly be. The stone slide of his fingers brushing shadow as he touches the other man's arm, he slips between them, interposing with the bulwark of his shoulder as he gives Darwin a winning smile that falters a little when Ji-Ho says the //second part// of that. "I feel like maybe there's a misunderstanding here," he bravely soldiers on. It's remarkable how solid a thin frame like Miel's can somehow seem as he puts himself between Darwin and Ji-Ho. "Wh... y did you send someone?" he asks in a slightly higher voice, stance widening as he glances back at Ji-Ho, one dilapidated sneaker digging into the scrubby chipped pavement of the alleyway. "You're lying!" Darwin snaps, then moodily moves away when Miel sets up a defensive wall, though the scrunch of his features eases when he catches that smile. There's whispering, and he can't help but eavesdrop. He catches just enough, /just/ enough to prompt a look of shock, centered on Miel. "Which part's the lie?" Ji-Ho says from over Miel's shoulder. "Look, she was just -- she was _checking you out_, making sure you weren't gonna _murder us all_, so calm down, okay. OKAY?" Telling someone to be calm _always works_. "Hey, hey, hey--" Miel lifts his hands, settling his weight on his heels. "I really think there's a miscommunication here. Gotta be. I mean, Darwin, you helped me out. You're not looking to hurt anyone, right?" His eyes widen hopefully, his teeth sunken into the curve of his lower lip as he plainly reads that shocky face. <Watch> Solomon has connected. "Wait... wait..." Darwin's lips pull into a bewildered smile. "You? /You/? Oh my god, they're everywhere," he almost laughs. "Miel..." He trails off, shaking his head. "No, Ji-Ho, I'm not going to hurt anyone. I'm not the threat here. Is there a threat that's coming to murder everyone?" "Oh. Fuck." Ji-Ho, on realizing he's OUTED his PAL and BUDDY that he almost sort of kind of met all of once in his life, looks _devastated_. He gives Miel the most apologetic void-face that has ever apologized. It works better on his human face, all round eyes and furrowed brows, but it's rendered in black on black on black in the dim shadow of the alley. He keeps Miel between them as he studies Darwin, and his voice is low: "Murder'd be simpler." "You think I'm a threat?" Miel looks hurt. He sucks on his lower lip, his brows drawing together. His weight shifts between his feet because holding still is always, always fraught for him. He sighs a little. "I never hurt anybody in my life," he says. He thinks about it. "I mean, I was probably kind of shitty to people when I was a teenager or whatever but just normal kid stuff, you know? Divorced parent kid stuff." He's sharing in a freewheeling way, his dark eyes flicking again to Ji-Ho. For someone who doesn't know him particularly who just got outed to a rando, he seems to be taking it in stride or-- maybe just trying to focus on not completely destroying his fledgling friendship here. He turns out a hand towards Ji-Ho, palm up: streaks of jet shimmer in his fingers, the glittering mica dancing in the shift of his palm. Once Miel stepped in to try to help here, it was almost inevitable that Darwin suspect something. The accompli was fait as soon as the parkour stopped. Darwin arches a brow when Ji-Ho clarifies. "Simpler?" He takes a step back, offering more space. He even moves out of the way of the alley exit, and takes a moment to study the present situation and see what he can salvage. "I didn't mean you, Miel. I'm referring to... uh. Chicago." He wills a small smile. "Ji-Ho, listen. I'm sorry for spooking you. I don't know anything about... you. Or Miel. And it can stay that way," he assures, meeting his eyes. "For the record, Fiametta seemed to think I was chill. Well, chillish." "Yeah, Fi said you were okay," Ji-Ho says in a mumble. He lacks the restlessness that drives Miel, yet there's still something that suggests movement about him, as though he is -- not poised, but on the cusp of retiring, moving away. "But like say you know someone with like, a really, really nasty ex, right, and they don't want their ex finding them--? And then you come in and you do a thing like 'Oh, you're totally that ex's type' or--." He breaks off. "This metaphor isn't working." Miel's smile blooms in a startle. He exhales a breathless laugh, scrubbing his hand over his face, raking fingertips back through his hair. "God," he says. "It's //kind of// working..." Not for Darwin. He looks incredibly confused. "You got a shitty ex after you? I can bite them in half for you," he offers. "If you got some old clothing, I can /probably/ sniff 'em out." Now he looks smug. Tracking is his forte. Ji-Ho facepalms at Darwin's offer. His fingers slide down his face and split. He peeks at Miel. "I don't think it's working," he says in a low murmur as Darwin offers to _sniff_ them out. "First off, there's a whole bunch of people with shitty exes. Second off, they bite _way harder_. Third off, _don' sniff_. Fourth of all, why are you biting and sniffing??" It's a two exclamation point kind of question. Miel rakes his hand back through the dark fluff of his hair, turning furrowed brows on Darwin. "Just-- okay. Okay. I'm getting this instinctual sense that maybe that's not a metaphor." Darwin grins, cheeky. "Bite harder?" he asks, tone skeptical. His expression sobers as he looks from Miel to Ji-Ho. "You're right, there's probably a lot of shitty exes out here. And no, not a metaphor. I'm a wolf. And now that you know that, you can carry around some silver and feel safe. Miel and I were just gonna' walk the strip. Do you want to come?" "Nooo. I just want tacos." Ji-Ho glances over at Miel with a slithery little side-step toward the dark and then back out again toward the street. "Are you gonna be good, uh--." Then he pauses, making it a little weird that he clearly doesn't know Miel's name. "Wow, he just cames out and says this," Miel says in a soft hush. He rubs his hand over his mouth. He lifts a hand and reaches up to touch Darwin's face, his fingertips brushing against the angle of his jaw in a light and fleeting touch. Strangely intimate, a soft tickle of warmth. "You're very confident," he says. His fingers curl inward as he settles back on his heels again, dropping his hand to his side. He smiles ruefully at Ji-Ho. "Guess we'll find out," he says. He holds out his fist towards the shadows upon shadows that are Ji-Ho. "Miel," he says. Darwin keeps his smile, though brows lift as Miel's fingertips brush against his jaw. A bit of color lifts to his cheeks, though it's hard to discern in the shadow of the alley. "Enjoy your taco," he tells Ji-Ho, watching him slither off. "...He doesn't really look like that, does he?" he asks Miel. "Ji-Ho," he introduces himself, _TO MIEL_. If Darwin learns his name, well -- lucky him. But it's not FOR him. "Stay safe." Then he ducks, disappearing to go get his taco. Metaphorically. He doesn't actually disappear. Turning back to face Darwin, Miel's lips lift in the whisper of a shy smile. "What do you mean?" he says. "Like-- I know this is going to sound super philosophy dropout here, but, what do you mean //really// look like?" Darwin touches the back of Miel's arm to guide him back out onto the strip, to start a leisurely stroll towards the theaters. "I got into a little, teensy tiny fight with one of your kind. For a split second... like, barely any time at all, I saw that he had a bunch of extra limbs." Miel is thoughtful and silent for a long time. The thrum of vehicle traffic whirrs past them as they walk over the sidewalk. Lights glow from the shop windows, casting bright commercial lures into the slowly darkening evening. His voice is a hush when he does speak, barely audible; only their closeness, his looming close to Darwin's side, enables him to hear the words. "You say you're a wolf, with the courage of a beast," he says. "Menace in your teeth and silver in your nightmares, right? And that gives you a certainty, at least, a knowledge of what you are. But I don't know if we can say that. What we are is warped, Darwin, broken into new shapes, twisted from what was into what is and what could be. If you can choose to not see what we are, you'll sleep better. Your courage and kindness are beautiful and you should hold them close. Don't let anyone break you if you can choose for yourself to be what you are." Oh. Oh no. Oh no, the fairies are /sad/. "Miel," Darwin begins, summoning a voice of pragmatic reasoning before he gets swept away in the sad poetry of Miel's words. Because he /will/ get swept up here. He has paused in his walk to rest a palm on Miel's shoulder, and the silence stretches as he searches for the words. In the end, he says nothing, brows furrowed, but now he walks with Miel with one arm looped through, holding him relatively close. Perhaps now a little fearful that there really is an evil ex out there, and this evil ex bites harder than any wolf. After a long pause in the quiet, Miel asks: "So... when you asked me if I had a place to stay...?" Darwin gives himself a little shake. "I didn't know if you were out here on the streets. If you're willing to tolerate a couch, mine is open." He pauses. "Miel, I won't make you spill your secrets if they're painful, or a matter of some fae law or... anything, but... is it all the same ex? For all of you?" "No. They vary," Miel says. He looks up and stares off into the middle distance for a moment and the writing on his face is one of pure, aching longing. It lasts for the space of a breath, and then he seems to shake it off, shrugging himself clear. "I uh-- I'd love a couch for the night if you can spare one. I don't think I can actually get back by 8." "Okay, now I'm a little worried about Ji-Ho. Though... I guess he's pretty slippery." Darwin follows Miel's gaze into the distance. Then bumps his shoulder. "No sweat, got you covered. No place safer than my territory," he promises. "...That bakery's pretty good, has these cheesecake things that are amazing. You like sweet things?" Miel's teeth flash with the bright bloom of his smile, jolted so smoothly from the shadows of memory by the lure of creature comforts. "I gotta tell you," he says. "I'm a pretty cheap date. You could probably get to second base with a box of cold pop tarts." Darwin flusters, his laughter breaking into a coughing fit. When he recovers, "You're not cheap. You're not warped. You're Miel. And you're a friend. /Pop tarts/," he scoffs, leading the way into the bakery. It's a huge, fancy selection, with fluffy cream-filled cornets and cupcakes and tarts and madeleines and... tiny cakes shaped like pawprints. Darwin tries to avoid fogging the glass. Opening his mouth like he wants to try to explain something, Miel lifts his hand as he follows Darwin into the bakery. He closes his eyes for a moment, deeply inhaling the scent of rising dough and cinnamon. "God, what a place," he muses thoughtfully. "You want to split something?" he asks cautiously because he has very little money and he doesn't want to make this rough on Darwin. "Don't worry about it! I'm the one that dragged you out here. And chased some guy into an alley like a creep," Darwin assures, and picks one of nearly everything. Moments later, they're at a corner table beside tall windows, and now it's well passed eight. Darwin spreads everything out on a tray between them. "Can I ask how long you've been at the shelter?" Miel carefully, methodically, even-stevens a cream-filled cupcake in half. He takes up is half and eats it as neatly as possible. It is not actually possible to eat half a cream-filled cupcake neatly, even if you have been imbued with the unnatural grace of the fae. He licks some cream from his fingertips and fumbles for a napkin. "Uhm, they let me in off the waiting list on the first of the month," he says, looking down at the napkin. Darwin seems charmed, watching Miel's methodical process. He cuts one of the tarts in half and takes a careful bite. "Fall behind on rent? The rent here is /insane/." "I guess I could save that for when someone else asks." Miel leans down onto the fold of his arms, hunkering onto his elbows as he tilts a look up at him. "I was somewhere else," he says. "We were all somewhere else. Neither here nor there, in between, everywhere and nowhere ... I mean, I was here, and then I was there, and then I was back." He rubs his eyebrow, thumb gliding over it as he smears away an imaginary itch, and he smiles. "It's hard to explain, I guess," he says, "but when I was here again, my old apartment definitely wasn't mine anymore." "So, these exes--" Darwin purses his lips. "Probably not accurate, right? Doesn't seem to be a romantic element here. These people, they take you somewhere in-between, for a period of time. To do... what?" he asks, dusting his hands of crumbs. "It was romantic," Miel says lowly, picking up the other half of the tart and nibbling delicately on its edge, not looking at Darwin as he says it. "And it wasn't. It was more. It was everything. It was..." His breath quivers as he exhales. "I don't know how to explain," he says in a voice gone low and dark. "I can't. I'm sorry. I can't." Darwin is rapt. RAPT. Until Miel's voice quivers. His heart sinks. "Don't be sorry. Crap. Miel, feel free to tell me to shut up." He reaches over the tray to cup Miel's hand, fingertips loose against his wrist. "Here. Here's some dumb stuff about me. Outside my job, I'm an environmental activist, because humanity just won't fucking chill. I changed under the half moon, which is supposed to make me a good negotiator, but I couldn't negotiate my way out of a paper bag. I don't like bugs. I-- and don't laugh," he grins, pulling his wallet out, "I compulsively chew on my stupid wallet when I'm stressed out." Indeed, his leather wallet looks chewed to hell. Miel doesn't laugh. The shiver that walks its way down his spine reflects through his body, though, just a whisper of a tremble that runs down his arm, shivering through his skin. The ache of sympathy could feed him. He could drink it in. But he's not thirsty for it, and it isn't the terror that would give him the easiest, clearest power. He looks up at Darwin's open face, and his breath trickles past his teeth in a sigh. "Why'd you pick a fight with one of us?" he asks. Darwin pulls his hand back, setting his fingertips against the table. "Kinda' ties in with me not liking bugs. There are... embodiments, I guess. Creatures shaped by perception, by feelings and experiences. There's two in particular that keep coming back. Short version-- spiders and rats. There's a changeling around here who can summon insects and scratch with claws. I thought he was a spirit." He clicks his tongue, leaning back in his seat. "Not proud of it." Miel thinks about this for a moment, and reaches to pick up a cookie and nibble delicately at the edge of it. "Okay," he says, the paired syllables slow. One of his feet jiggles against the floor beneath the table, and then he says, "As long as you don't pick a fight with //me//," and his smile warms his whole face as he huffs a little snort, lashes dropping low over the dark gleam of his eyes. Darwin eases when he spots that warm smile. "Nah. 'Course not. I mean the guy threw me through a tree, twice, so I don't like my chances. Besides, there's the Accord. And I'd like to think I'm not a total asshole. Wanna' bag up the rest of these and head back? Could maybe hit a movie if you're up for it." Hesitating just for a moment, Miel nods slowly and says, "...Sure. Sure, I guess we could go to a movie. I can't remember the last time I was at a movie theater." His eyes flick, searching, over Darwin's features, and he slouches a little as he settles back in the seat. "Do you like butter on your popcorn?" He remembers butter on popcorn. Slippery, shiny fingers. Idiot fumbling in the dark, and no idea what the plot of the movie was, because of reasons. His smile is rueful, now, lingering on an even older shred of memory, one that he never lost to the autumn. "Oh yeah. Absolutely slathered. If it's not dripping then what's the point," Darwin says, taking a moment to style his hair with the flick of his fingers. He rolls up the paper bag and moves back out onto the walkway, sure to keep Miel close. He's clearly more watchful now, gaze passing over the alleys. Maybe Miel might have a better time of following the plot, if only because Darwin's compulsion to comment on on nearly every line. | |