Difference between revisions of "Talk:Czcibor Kowal/Temp"

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'''LAST TIME in [[Log:Meeting_Neighbors|Meeting Neighbors]]:'''
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MT07 - Wayhouse - Nov 25
  
 +
It's a couple days after Thanksgiving, and it's only chilly instead of outright cold, tonight. No snow, just grey skies not even bothering to loom threateningly-- maybe the clouds are
 +
tired or cranky or just not into it. Either way, it means the night's not pitch black, because the moon's lit the clouds up from behind, and in that strange light, everything outside is
 +
dark grey.
  
 +
In contrast, the inside of the Wayhouse is warm and warmly lit, as welcoming and community-oriented as it ever is, and there's a man present who's recently taken to holing up there with
 +
various manual projects, at the dining room table, when he wants to be ostensibly social but doesn't want to go to the effort of seeking out company or subjecting himself to crowds.
  
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"Oh no!" calls Edmond, honestly dismayed. "Listen: I am Edmond Basumatary! When I hear you come home I will knock and have leftovers for you, okay? Or if you hear me playing you can
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Czcibor Kowal's in jeans and a nondescript zip-up maroon hoodie with hiking boots, a newspaper spread out on the table in front of him, and he's idly reading it as he carves into a split
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knock!" He finishes chopping the spinach, and then looks sadly at Kelsey after Elliot flees, his hands pausing for a moment in their deft work. "Did you ''hear'' her stomach? I feel
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stick he's already stripped of bark. It doesn't look like it's something he's very good at, at all. But you don't get good at anything without practice, right?
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bad now. I hope she does not have an entirely hungry shift."
+
  
  
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That's a lot of syllables to try to fit between Elliot's 'have to go' and her being out the door. Kelsey doesn't try to get any in edgewise. He eyes the door behind Elliot instead,  
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Dielle comes into the Wayhouse. She's wearing that godawful sweater of hers, the one that's purple and green and scary shades of both. She doesn't have anywhere in particular she needs to  
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with a tight little frown and knit eyebrows. "Well, hey," he says after a moment. "If it gets really bad, she could always eat her coworkers."
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be or any reason to be in the Wayhouse, she's just there because going to poke the bears in a different place doesn't sound like fun tonight. She sees Czcibor and calls out a hearty "Hey,  
 +
there," to him.
  
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Hopefully he's kidding.
 
  
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At least he's a little short to be Hannibal Lecter.
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The tin man looks up and grins. "Hey, Moon Princess," he says, setting the stick and the pen knife down, then reaching for his coffee as he looks her over-- and tries really hard not to  
 +
look at her sweater. He sips his coffee, then sets it down as he tilts his head. "Captain Moon Princess, I mean. Are you okay?"
  
  
 +
Dielle chuckles. "I'm just fine, Czcibor. Had to do some shopping today. I can trek in the Hedge for hours, but one trip through Costco just drains me. And on the weekend of Black Friday,
 +
too. This was after talkin' to a new girl, Peggy, and givin' a personal training session to an athlete" She gives a bit of a yawn and says, "How's your day been?"
  
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'''NOW:'''
 
  
 +
"Eh," the Elemental says, wobbling his free hand and shrugging. "Quiet, which is good, I like quiet. Too much social drama and emotional friction the past few days. Really glad to just...
 +
not." He pauses, then reaches up to rub the back of his head. "I should have mentioned this before, but I-- I don't think I can go on the Ashen Hunt. I mean, if you need me there as a
 +
healer if any of our people get hurt, I can do that. I'll go as air. I don't know how they get organized around these parts, but the way they've been run in other freeholds I've been
 +
in..." He shakes his head. "Being terrifying and mob-chasing someone, or a group of someones-- mortals in this case... I just... I understand they need to die. But my brother was chased
 +
by the Wild Hunt. I can't... be the monsters that hunted him."
  
  
 +
Dielle says, "You don't have to, Kowal. It's entirely voluntary. If you want, we can both go and sit on the sidelines and heal our people if they need it. Well, you can, I can just heal
 +
bruises and concussions and shit. I'm all for going and talking to these guys, or getting into a nasty brawl kinda thing, but...well, I ain't Autumn and it's not my scene, precisely." She
 +
sits down, and leans on the table and looks vaguely relieved that someone else shares her sentiments. "It's not even that I feel bad for these fuckers. They're murderers. But this ain't
 +
clean."
  
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"..." Edmond turns to give Kelsey a slow look, but apparently decides 'eating coworkers' is a joke, because he just shakes his head and smirks and picks up the cutting board to
 
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brush all the chopped spinach into the simmering and popping ghee, stirs it with a wooden spoon, and adds a little of the simmering cream. He opens the overhead cabinet again to
 
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take down more spices and starts putting them in with all that, eyeballing amounts; he talks all the while. "I never see her with groceries or takeaway food," he says, corner of his
 
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mouth turning down a little until he blows his bangs out of his face with a quick upward puff of breath.
 
  
 +
If Dielle looks relieved, Czcibor looks like her admission just took the world off his shoulders. All the hesitation drops away and he laughs, shoulders sagging, back thumping against the
 +
back of his chair. "Dzieki Bogu--! I thought it might be a requirement or something. It's-- there is a lot of Autumn that I admire fiercely. I am glad they are there to keep our lore and
 +
our magic; I am glad they are there to find ways to use the Gentry's magic against them-- but fear... fear is a blade with no hilt and no sheath. It's even easy for me to use-- and that's
 +
why it is so very important to me that I don't ''become'' it." Then he slouches down a little further and holds his mug in both hands, looking rueful. "And also, yes, it isn't clean."
  
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"You're right," Kelsey concedes to that slow look. "She's too close to my build, they could fend her off with a knife and probably carry her around like a backpack if she tried a
 
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garrote." He wanders closer to the so-named kitchen, leaning on the side of the counter to try to get a look at the overhead cabinet, or at least at the spices actually involved.
 
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"So either she eats at work, or she doesn't eat? That goes with the nervousness."
 
  
 +
Dielle smiles at Czcibor and it's a slow smile with as much relief as he has. "Don't know if it's because I'm me or because I was a unicorn. Or maybe it's the guy I'm with, and he just
 +
makes me want to be better than I am. But I prefer a clean fight and I'm not real happy that we're not gonna get to go back and have a chat with those guys. Shooting them in the head when
 +
they refuse to change is at least giving them a chance. They can fight back. This? Yeah, I really, really don't much like it."
  
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Edmond rolls his eyes at Kelsey, but makes room for him to peer into the cabinet or around his shoulder to see what he's doing, what he's adding. What he's doing right now is
 
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dumping the rest of the bit of cream in with the spinach and spices and a little bit more ghee, and then getting out a frying pan and putting the same combination of ghee and spices
 
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in the bottom of ''that'', then dumping the cubes of paneer into that to let them brown and sizzle some. "She probably eats when she can," he says quietly, then sidesteps Kelsey
 
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gracefully and opens up the fridge to take out a ziploc of cooked rice. A steampot's bottom section's filled with about three fingers of water and the basket put in it, and then the
 
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cold cooked rice goes in the basket with a lid on top. "Part time jobs are kind of shit. So are irregular jobs, but at least with mine, sometimes I get a lot of money at once."
 
  
 +
There's a little tilt of his head again, and Czci's smiling a small, fond, lopsided little thing at Dielle. "I think it's probably because of who you are, if it's got you on a gut level
 +
like this." Then the smile fades and he looks into his coffee, which may or may not be laced with alcohol. "A clean fight is always preferable to assassination, and assassination
 +
preferable to murdering someone who's terrified and running from you because hell is literally on their heels. Because I'm ''me'', I prefer-- when possible-- alternatives to death. A
 +
second chance with a sword of Damocles hanging above it, perhaps. Terror used as an educational tool rather than as cruelty in and of itself, and balanced with hope and knowledge. 'This
 +
is what could be done to you, but it won't be. You won't die if you never come after us again, if you leave. Or if you help us instead.' Rehabilitation. Pledge-binding. It's worked
 +
before-- but this isn't where I come from; I'm new here. This isn't my season. None of this is my call, and it shouldn't be." Then he looks up at Dielle again. "But if there's no other
 +
choice, then yes, let them at least go down fighting."
  
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Far side of the counter, not actually in the way. Mostly, anyway. "Yeah," Kelsey says, to the 'eats when she can.' And again, "Yeah," overlapping with 'so are irregular jobs.'
 
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There's a brief smirk at the 'sometimes I get a lot of money at once.' "Let's face it. If our jobs weren't shit, we wouldn't be living someplace like this. I'm a little worried
 
−
about what might be paying rent for inside the walls."
 
  
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Dielle nods at Czcibor and says, thoughtfully, "I was gonna hold off on this, but I don't think I am, based on that speech. I'm promoting you to private in the Harvestmen. You've already
 +
shown you're effective in teamwork, which is the big thing, you can take orders as well as give them, and frankly, we need that. Especially since we're gonna need another Lieutenant,
 +
although I'm not promoting you to that, not yet. I want to see more before I do that." She looks pretty pleased, now.
  
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"Eh, I like living in places that are like this," says Edmond with a philosophical shrug, then grins, teeth once more bright in his evening-sky face; his stars glitter with
 
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self-amusement. "Unless they do not let me repaint the walls. Then to hell with them." He takes a spatula and starts flipping the cheese cubes on their sides to brown them more
 
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evenly, and the scent of the food is already growing thick in the air. "When you are poor and everyone around you is poor, you are not judged for the wealth or status you may have.
 
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There is no one to dictate what you can and cannot do, and you may give as much as you like without it being charity."
 
  
 +
Haruki's never completely comfortable at the wayhouse, but he's trying to get better. He's dragged Itsuki along with him today, if just to get out of the house and do something different.
 +
At least it's warm in here, unlike outside. "I still haven't found the books." He admits. "There's got to be books and information and, well it's not all online. Not that I can find,
 +
which is just as well since anyone would be able to read it then." He trails off at the sound of other voices, as he steps in to where they are.
  
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For all that the primary note in Kelsey's mien is candleflame, his eyes are one of the bright leaf-greens common among plant-kin. And those bright green eyes are drawn to that
 
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glitter, particularly striking as it is against the dark background of Edmond's skin, then the red of the walls.
 
  
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Conversation, however, is not derailed by any mentally-numbed 'your stars are pretty' remarks. "Is that why you haven't fixed the problem?" Kelsey wonders. "An aesthetic or moral
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Itsuki is dragged. The smaller Nakamura is slightly better dressed than last time anyone mighta seen him, wearing a new and comfortably warm looking oversized hoodie, and actual pants. He
−
preference for poverty? Not that I've fixed it either, mind, but I haven't been here as long."
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does look pretty glad at getting out of the cold, at least, shivering and looking actually interested. "Do... you think so? Is that a thing that they'd keep..." He trails off as they spot
 +
the other Lost. Offering a hesitant wave as he moves behind Aniki slightly.
  
  
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The boy of stars with hands of wood and feet of clay, he glances up from his frying in mild surprise. "...problem?" he echoes vaguely, then goes back over everything that just got
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To say that Czcibor looks... pole-axed... as the two boys are coming in would be an understatement. "I-- what, really? I feel like I just got here," he's saying to Dielle, blank eyes
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said and focuses. "Oh. Neither aesthetic nor moral. Primarily convenience. And also--"
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wide. "I'm honored, Captain. If there's anything you--" But they're actually coming in this direction, and the Pole's eyes flicker toward Haruki and his obvious brother, then back to
 +
Dielle like 'can we talk about this in front of them, is that okay?' but he's also lifting a hand in greeting, and smiling. "Is this the famed Itsy?" he calls with a laugh.
  
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Here Edmond looks ''distinctly'' self-amused, and even the stars in his hair twinkle brightly, and the ones in his eyes are practically suns. He flips the cheese blocks again, not
 
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even paying attention to them, and absently takes the lid off the spinach and stirs the pot again. "--when I come into money I buy nice clothes and new strings and pen nibs. I do
 
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not have an airtight identity, so banks and things of that nature are awkward, anyway. And I like to move around. It is easier to pack and leave if everything fits in a shitty
 
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little car."
 
  
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''That'' grin is like sunlight itself.
+
Dielle gives Czcibor a nod, and she says, "As far as I'm concerned, you've proven yourself, already, Kowal. Congratulations. I think...I think I'm gonna have to head up a squad myself,
 +
for a little while, but I'm gonna have to chat with Ashe and see what else I can do." She smiles and manages not to sigh. When Haruki and Itsuki walk in, she cuts herself off and turns to
 +
wave at them. "Hey, Haruki! How are you! And Itsuki, I haven't seen you in ages and ages! How are you both?"
  
  
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Kelsey spreads his own hands, distinctly non-wooden, even if their shadowed places take on the lilac hue and soft, uncannily even textures of flower petals. "I can't argue," he
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"Czcibor, this is my baby brother, Itsuki," Haruki introduces them with a smile. "Are you okay?" He asks, concerned. "I can easy go, wander off elsewhere? We were looking for books." He
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says. "Given that you've just seen me hauling most of my worldly goods. Most; I have a shipment of inventory catching up with me soon. But there's something to be said for nice
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smiles brightly at Dielle. "I'm good! You? It's so good to see you." He then glances at Czcibor. "Congratulations?"
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clothes and emergency funds. Or in your case, for feeding your starveling neighbor, since you seem intent on making that a habit."
+
  
  
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The grin turns decidedly sheepish. "She is nice and she is hungry. I do not like it when people are hungry and it is not on purpose." Then he shrugs blithely, and shuts off the heat
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Itsuki's nose twitches at the 'baby' brother line, but has long since started just ignoring it. Instead he waves again and then blinks at the greetings. "Famed? Uh. Hm. I guess I don't,
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under the cheese, moving to pour the excess ghee into a warm glass jar and dump the fried cheese into the spinach, stirring it again. He also takes the lid off the steamer, and
+
um. Get out enough." The smaller twins offers an apologetic smile, "It's uh, nice to see you again though." This to Dielle, and then to Czcibor, "Um. It's nice to meet you, Cz..." He
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un-clumps the rice before replacing the lid. As he opens the fridge again and takes out a tetra-pak of mango lassi, he notes offhandedly, "She has a job, she also may not be
+
stumbles a little on the pronunciation of that one.
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starving for much longer. It does not matter to me: I like to share. Can you put this on the table? Glasses are in the cabinet next to your head."
+
  
  
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There's a wicked little spark in those green eyes now, and it's echoed in the sly smile -- but that smile's a conspiratorial one, rather than cutting. His tone's teasing, too, but
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"...thanks, I think," the tin man says with a wry laugh. "But no, really, I'm glad you can trust me: it means I can be more useful. And maybe later you can give me a run-down of who's  
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it's not the kind of teasing that pushes away. "You don't know her well enough not to have to tell her what name to call you by. But you know her well enough to know she's nice?
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actually in which squad, since I know the intended organization in theory, but I haven't been able to figure out who actually does what beyond yourself and Rorschach." On the table in
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''That's'' interesting." Then Kelsey threads himself in, careful of Edmond's range of motion and of avoiding jogging elbows, to retrieve two glasses. Given the size of the kitchen,
+
front of him is a truly amateur woodcarving in progress, with chips and shavings all over the newspaper he'd spread on the dining room table in front of himself. He grins at Haruki's  
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this does put him in thwacking range. If thwacking occurs, he's likewise careful not to drop glass (or plastic) or spill lassi, even if he's pouring at the time.
+
introduction, and Itsuki's continuation. "Kowal," he laughs, and it's 'KO-val'. "Generally Captain Czcibor Kowal der Landeswehr, but-- now also Private Kowal of the Harvestmen. I am very
 +
glad you have found your brother, and that you are close. Family is important."
  
  
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Eyebrows lifting at Kelsey over his shoulder, Edmond looks prim suddenly. "Of course she is nice. She may also be an axe murderer, but if so, she is a nice one. It is perfectly
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Dielle smiles at Czcibor and says, "I think that will be a good idea. But in the meantime, pardon me for a bit? I have to use the facilities. Sorry, everyone. Serves me right for eating
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possible to be both nice and evil, or nice and completely batty in awful and dangerous ways, or nice and also sometimes utterly awful." The prim literally only lasts through what he
+
Taco Bell." With that, she runs off into the bathroom.
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says, and then Edmond's laughing as he turns the heat off underneath the spinach cheese thing and puts the lid on it. "You, I think, are not nice, but I believe I like you anyway. I
+
−
am very nice, but I will also steal a corpse from a police morgue in payment for a fancy sandwich. Nice is not a very telling descriptor, you see."
+
  
  
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"I am ''terribly'' nice," Kelsey says brightly, letting lashes flutter back at Kelsey over his own shoulder before he goes to set the pair of glasses on the table. "If only because
+
Haruki nods at Czcibor. "Brothers are the best. Even baby ones." He moves to muss Itsuki's hair, affectionately. "This is Harvestmen things?" Is Kowal the name I should use, or Czcibor?
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'nice' is a word that's meant almost anything, one time or another. Including polar opposites. Everyone's nice for ''one'' of them or another."
+
I'm Nakamura Haruki, but Haruki's the name that's used." He looks curiously at the woodcarving. "What's that?" And then. "Czcibor has a hot air balloon? He's going to take me not to Oz,  
 +
and I was going to invite Damion, because he's big and warm, and it's so cold, but Damion's busy."
  
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He drifts back doorward, but only to listen at it for a moment (anyone in the hallway? No-one in the hallway) before adding, "That's a remarkably specific example. I feel like I
 
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should stock up on fancy sandwiches."
 
  
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Itsuki snorts, whapping as Aniki musses his already admittedly pretty messy hair, trying to look more grumpy than happy as he shrugs, "I suppose family is pretty okay." He concedes,
 +
clearing his throat and ah'ing as Dielle excuses herself. Waving and looking to the metal Pole, "Harvestmen? Are you guys like, an army?"
  
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"Well," says Edmond, pulling shallow bowls down and spooning rice into them first, "it needed doing, and I happened to be hungry. So I said I would do it if they bought me a fancy
 
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veggie sandwich from the--"
 
  
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It's really not ''much'' of a hitch. And it's so smooth afterwards.
+
Wincing at poor Dielle's distress, Czcibor takes a sip from his doctored coffee and shakes his head at Haruki. "You can call me whatever's easiest. Czcibor is actually my middle name, and
 +
I've had so many nicknames in my life that it really doesn't matter. Kowal is even short for Kowalewicz. Ziv calls me Chee; my oathmate calls me Czcyk sometimes. I've spent the greater
 +
part of my adult life in Vienna, where calling people by their surnames is the norm, even friends-- so I am very very accustomed to being called Kowal." He glances at the carving in front
 +
of him and laughs. "That is me deciding to try a new hobby, one that doesn't involve either Star Trek novels or waving a sword around in the Hedge." Then he smiles and shrugs a little at
 +
Itsuki. "The Harvestmen are the defensive line for Fate's Harvest. Organized fighters. An army's generally rather bigger; this is more like a militia, as I understand it."
  
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"--cafe, the Cat-22 Collective place, down the street thataway." That part gets an inclination of his chin. "But," he says with a breezy smile as he finishes spooning palak paneer
 
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on top of the rice, then brings both bowls over to the coffee table and sets them down, spoons and all, "the newspaper said it was a paperwork mixup, so obviously no corpses were
 
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ever stolen and I am having you on. There is clearly no need to stock up on fancy sandwiches, unless you are just planning to be nice to me."
 
  
 +
Haruki shakes his hread. "No, I should call you what you want to be called. That's so many names. I don't want to speak of more intimacy than I have with you, or be familiar if I'm not."
 +
His eyes light up. "OH! Are you watching the new star trek series? It's good to have lots of hobbies."
  
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He's having a conversation with a Fairest. A Fairest whose Mantle, weaker than Edmond's as it is, is still candlelight flickers and Autumn flowers. There is very little chance that
 
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that hitch goes unnoticed.
 
  
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If it is, though, it is filed away somewhere for later, not pounced on on the instant. "Should I not be nice to you?" Kelsey asks blithely, glancing back kitchenward to see whether
+
Dielle comes back and says, "Sorry about that! Don't be too quick to go in there. It's a little on the scary side. I refuse to give up meat entirely but I don't think my digestive system
−
anything else needs carrying. "If you like me better ''not'' nice, I could always be mean. But that seems terribly out of balance when you've just been cooking for a pair of
+
likes it all that much. Which is way, way more information than any of you wanted." She takes her seat back again and shuts up.
−
strangers. Well. A stranger and a near-stranger."
+
  
  
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Edmond flops onto the couch and picks up the bowl he sat in front of, then sticks his tongue out at Kelsey. Mleh. And then he bursts out laughing. "I met both of you today! Just
+
Itsy wrinkles his nose but looks sympathetic. "Yeah. Gave up meat before the changes anyway, but I really doubt I'd be able to handle any now. Had a few runs in just with dairy and. Um.  
−
because I have seen her in the hallway does not mean I know her. But now you are both near-strangers! I have no bread to break with you, alas, but perhaps this will suffice."
+
Well. I can't eat dairy, anyway." The bun looks a bit embarrassed, looking back to the other conversation and nodding, "Oh, so you all drill and stuff? Militias aren't so much a thing
−
Apparently nothing else needs carrying: the burfi box is still on the table for after, and Kelsey brought the drink and glasses over, and there's dinner right there. As if to
+
back home."
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punctuate, Edmond salutes with a spoonful and then stuffs it in his mouth.
+
  
  
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Kelsey slides onto the couch on the other side, tucking themself in prim and small. The second bowl is collected and held delicately in his lap. "Breaking rice seems perfectly
+
"We're Veganish," Haruki says to Dielle. "My stomach doesn't agree with much. No gluten either." He admits. "So, well, I understand." He looks at Itsy. "You're not thinking of joining,
−
appropriate," he says. "One grain's as good as another." His mouth curls upward at the corner nearer Edmond. And he deliberately fishes ''one single grain'' of rice out of his bowl
+
are you? You'd get hurt. You're best and safest running away. You're so fast nothing can catch you."
−
with his spoon, divides it neatly in half with the spoon's edge, and deposits one half on the edge of Edmond's bowl before eating the other. Then taking an actual spoonful and
+
−
trying with enough to, oh, actually taste. A pleased sound follows.
+
  
  
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There is a sound that is almost a snort of laughter except that Edmond catches himself just in time and avoids getting spicy up the back of his nose. Then, with almost-grave
+
"I don't watch a lot of TV," admits Czci, setting his coffee down and spreading his hands, then snorting at Dielle and just Not Commenting. He continues, "I'll probably binge-watch it
−
deliberation -- the suppressed smirk keeps tugging at the corners of his mouth -- he picks up the half-a-grain delicately and puts it in his mouth, watching Kelsey the whole time.
+
when the season's over, though. I don't have the patience to wait a week between episodes. But I'm looking forward to it." He pauses, skipping over basically all the foodstuffs
 +
converstion, then squints at Haruki and Itsuki. "There ''is'' an entire squad of non-combatants. Which is amazing. It wasn't so, in Vienna. My cousin... my cousin was a bunny, too. She--
 +
got overconfident, and went off by herself. If you ''did'' join, Itsuki, I would hope you wouldn't do something like that. That you'd let the combatants take attention off you, and run,
 +
and take the information back with you."
  
−
Okay, putting his fingertip in his mouth afterwards probably wasn't necessary, but there it is.
 
  
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Perfectly matter-of-factly, but with a real smile for the sound of Kelsey appreciating his cooking, he goes back to eating his own bowl.
+
Dielle shakes her head. "Rorschach's squad /are/ combatants. They're all fighters, they're just better at scouting. Doesn't mean they /can't/ fight. But y'all are welcome to come train
 +
with us anyway, we got a few sparring sessions set up in the next few weeks. And a new recruit, who don't know much about fighting beyond which end of the sword to hold. Nice girl, so
 +
long as she remembers to keep her thumb OUTSIDE her fist when hittin' someone."
  
  
−
Probably not necessary. Probably also not necessary: Kelsey answers the gesture with a glance through lowered lashes, head deliberately angled to allow it to be emphasized. Then
+
"I- I don't know. I was just asking." The monochromatic bun is obviously considering it *now* at least, looking up at the Polish man's description, features softening. "Oh. I'm sorry you
−
returns to his turn at primness, eating with a certain degree of delicacy. And without the American tendency to want to talk all the time while eating. Apparently he really ''does''
+
lost your cousin." He offers the unicorn a grin, "Might watch, at least."
−
appreciate the palak paneer. That, or he might be concerned that he could break out laughing if he tried to say anything.
+
  
  
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Eyebrows ''up''. For like a second. And then Ed just grins, bright and wide and delighted, and curls up in ''his'' corner of the couch with ''his'' palak paneer. He himself is not
+
"If you wanted to, you could come watch it with us," Haruki offers. "If you like watching things with people. I like that. The social aspect of watching something weekly. Hanging out with
−
actually inclined to start laughing should he stop eating, or say anything, he's just hungry-- as evidenced by the fact that he manages to scarf the whole thing in two minutes and
+
friends, with some good food, and drink, and watching something on tv we all enjoy. The discussions and anticipation leading up to the new episode. It's so much more fun with others." He  
−
still be on the civilized side of eating quickly. When he's done, he unfolds his legs and puts the bowl down and picks up his lassi, hyper-aware of Kelsey being there, but he still
+
looks curious as noncombatants are mentioned.. "Could I train with you too?" He looks sympathetic and echoes Itsy. "Sorry about your cousin."
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doesn't say anything, just drinks his drink.
+
  
−
One thing that can be said for the place, as brightly and busily decorated as it is: it's meticulously spotless, and there's neither clutter nor mess. Absolutely everything is in
 
−
its place except what he'd just finished using to cook. It's warm, it ''looks'' warm with the fool-the-eye colors, it's someone's version of homey, and it is ''flawlessly clean''.
 
−
The books are alpha by author for fiction, and clearly grouped in topics and organized within those, and all lined up precisely so their spines are flush with each other; the spice
 
−
cabinet had been organized-- there's no mail or letters visible, the sarode is on its stand and its case is leaned against the wall behind it; the keyboard is broken but it's not
 
−
trailing guts or anything-- and the inbox and outbox of the typewriter are aligned with the edges of the little table it's on, and the chair is pulled up flush against its front.
 
  
−
The floor's seen better days, but from the cleanliness of the rest of the place, the guy probably washed it with a bleach solution when he moved in.
+
"Ooh, good to know," Czcibor says to Dielle, giving her an eyebrows-up fingergun. "Yet another instance of us really needing to talk about what the organization actually ''is'' as opposed
 +
to what it is on paper. Gonna keep my mouth shut on it until we get a chance."
  
 +
Dielle and Czcibor are sitting at the dining room table, newspaper and a terribly amateur wood carving in progress on the table in front of the tin man, and Haruki and Itsuki are both
 +
standing near them, all four of them conversing.
  
−
The question is whether there's anything that can even be done for the carpeting, or whether it's custom-designed to reject carpet shampoo. One does not ask these things. One simply
+
"I'd-- actually really like that," the metal man says, startled at the invitation. "I haven't gotten to watch anything with people in a long time, and it's ''lots'' of fun. And-- thanks.  
−
does not.
+
It's been a lot of years, but-- like I said, family is important. So... thank you." He defers the training questions to Dielle, glancing to her.
  
−
Kelsey's rate of consumption is somewhat slower than Ed's, given time taken to savor, but soon enough he has his own glass cradled in his hands instead. The first sip may have been
 
−
a little overly quick; that's still more spice than most Americans are entirely used to. But not too much more in this case.
 
  
−
"That," Kelsey says at length, "was really good." And definitely better than the amount of food visible in among the luggage he was hauling in, which if the rest of his bedding was
+
Dielle says to the boys, "If you want to come train with us, you're both welcome to. I mean, obviously, I'd like to keep that to Freeholders only, but just maybe it'll get us a few more
−
stuffed in there with the pillow, probably amounted to 'maybe a handful of breath mints.' "I think your neighbor has a better thing going than she knows."
+
people. Although, admittedly, what we need are active people." She grins at them, and says to Czcibor, "Well, in this case, I've never seen the Irregulars NOT be able to fight, so what I
 +
understand them to be doesn't necessarily have much to do with how it started."
  
  
−
Edmond looks supremely pleased with himself, toes curling around the edge of the couch cushion from where he'd drawn his legs up, and shoulders hunching in a little bit as he ducks
+
Haruki smiles at Czcibor, brightly. "We watch, um American Gods, when it's back on. And been watching Star Trek. And Game of Thrones, of course. And sometimes we just hang out and watch
−
his head and beams at Kelsey, eyes little half-moons. "I am so glad! I was not allowed to cook when I was small, but I watched everything I could when I hid in the kitchen. I have
+
movies. And I've probably forgotten somethings we watch." He nods at Dielle. "We're both oathed. Itsy runs fast as anything. I'm... well I'm me. You know I'm not that good at much."
−
been watching cooking youtube videos and reading recipe books a lot since I got back, but I had not cooked for anyone else yet. You can come here for dinner any time you like!"
+
  
  
−
"Now that's a dangerous offer," Kelsey says, brightly sly and teasing again. He curls sideways and tucks his own knees up onto the couch cushions, toes pointed but shoes not
+
Ahoy! It's a Waykeeper! A real honest to god Waykeeper in the Wayhouse! Logan comes in from the cold, bringing cold air into the mud room as he continues through into the rest of the
−
touching the upholstery. His hair, on the verge of lambent, curls down the front of his shoulder. "For all you know, I might eat you out of house and home. Or shall I buy groceries
+
Wayhouse proper. Once he does, of course, he also brings a whole lot of bright light with him. He's wearing a navy blue coat over a yellow and blue rugby-style striped sweater, paired
−
for you to make up for it? Then you'll have more to spend on pen nibs."
+
with blue pants and white sneakers with yellow soles. A suitably cheerful smile is given to the whole group. "Hi, everybody. It's always good to see people assembled here in the Wayhouse."
  
−
It is not a pledge phrasing. It skirts close to it, but it's not.
 
  
 +
There's a nod to Dielle from Czcibor as he picks up his vodka-laden coffee and sips it again. "Paper versus performance, always." Then he grins at Haruki and Itsuki. "I'd love to. My
 +
contact info's tacked to the bulletin board-- just give me a call when you're planning on doing it next, and I'm in." When the door opens and lets in daylight from the nighttime along
 +
with the chilly air, the Elemental's suddenly shifting a little uncomfortably, biting his lip. 3... 2... 1...
  
−
Kelsey does not avoid Edmond's eyes, but meeting them is a quick thing, a flicker up and then away to his mouth, or his hands on the dishes, or the set of his shoulders. "I think I
+
"Logan I'm sorry for being a social disaster the other day!" he blurts out, putting his hands on the table and half-standing. "It was... a bad day."
−
should tell you," they say softly, "that I might flirt, but it's not serious. That I'm not actually -- mm, let me not use that saying. That I'm not actually looking for a
+
−
relationship. Or even for a hookup. I think right now you're having fun with it, and I think right now you're okay with it just being having fun. But I don't want to risk it getting
+
−
serious for you when it isn't, it can't be, for me."
+
  
−
Whether or not he'd have given that warning if Edmond's storm-warning summer-night Mantle weren't strong enough to push his own back ... that's a question for later, maybe. Or maybe
+
That said, he realizes abruptly he was just now a social disaster again, and he clunks back into his chair and his metal hand clanks on his metal face as he drags it down it, mortified.
−
for never.
+
  
−
His body language had gone still for a moment; now it eases, a shift of weight, a light little bend-and-stretch like a breath against a candleflame. "If you still were to write a
 
−
letter to me, knowing that -- why, then you might address it to Kelsey Williams, and it might get to me okay."
 
  
 +
Dielle reaches over to pat Haruki's arm, lightly, and withdraw again. "I'm ok at a lot of things and not great at most of them and I just ended up as Captain of the Harvestmen. Then
 +
again, I'm damn fine at delegating." She looks over and waves at Logan. "HEY! How the hell have you been? I'd wondered if you were still in town, I haven't seen you much!" She grins at
 +
her fellow Dawn. (Her mantle's rather stronger than it had been.) Then she turns to look at her newest Private and snickers. "This sounds like a story."
  
−
Edmond pauses with the dishes in his hand, on the way to the sink, and the storm warning doesn't change. There's no anger ''here'', there's no heat of wrath, no lashing of a
 
−
monsoon, only the quiet chirping of crickets and the steady hum of the cicadas amongst the background sounds of living in a cheap apartment with thin walls in a bad neighborhood. He
 
−
doesn't look away from Kelsey, and nothing about his body language shows a gathering of tension.
 
  
−
Only there's a faintly amused, faintly sad little quirk to one corner of his mouth, and then he goes on moving again, to put the dishes in the sink and turn on the water so it runs
+
"They are awesome, not bad!" Haruki tells Itsy with a smile. "But yeah, not the vampires and the werewolves. And not the demonhunting brothers." He nods at Logan. "Hello Logan. You and  
−
hot, eventually. While he waits, he takes out a dry erase marker and he writes 'Kelsey Williams' on the fridge in a gloriously graceful, looping, antique hand. As he writes, and
+
Itsy know eachother? Logan does magic tricks," he tells Itsuki. His eyes go wide as Czcibor apologises to Logan, and then he looks concerned. He smiles at Dielle. "Delegating is important
−
then as he re-caps the marker and goes back to the sink, he speaks.
+
too. And I think you're great at so much. Like being a friend, you're a great friend."
  
−
"That is all right. I believe I will survive this vast and aching disappointment. Please do not think it creepy if I date guys who look a little like you-- it is only that you
 
−
''are''," he glances over his shoulder and grins at Kelsey, "my type. If we are to be friends, that is perfectly lovely. If we are friends who flirt, that is lovely also. Only if--
 
−
you think you are flirting too much, please do not stop the friends part, only the flirting part."
 
  
 +
Logan's eyebrows raise briefly at Czcibor's little outburst. "I don't know what you're talking about, Captain." He pats a confident hand on Czcibor's arm. "I'm sure everything's fine. How
 +
are you feeling now?" Then he flashes his grin at Dielle. "Good to see you, Dielle. Congratulations on the promotion." Haruki and Itsuki get the smile next. "And good to see you too,
 +
Haruki. I'm not sure we have met, actually. I'm Logan." A golden hand is extended to Haruki as he asks the group, "What are you all talking about? Sounds like television."
  
−
"I may have guessed the your-type part," Kelsey admits, with a gloriously exaggerated show of modesty. Fortunately, he's still on the couch, so he can't actually scuff a toe on the
 
−
floor. "That is. I did notice that your neighbor and I look a ''tiny'' bit alike. Just a touch." Small, thin, blond -- he doesn't have that smile, granted.
 
  
−
It's a moment after that he uncurls from the couch, slipping over toward the counter, trailing behind and regarding the handwriting on the refrigerator. "If ''you'' think," he says
+
Itsuki nods, blinking out of his reverie and taking the offered hand, shaking it. "Itsuki. Nakamura Itsuki. It's nice to meet you. Um." Cheeks turn a bit silver as he looks back to
−
lightly, "I am flirting too much ... please tell me, so that we can also stop the right part there. I don't know what you find acceptable, and what you find beyond the pale." He
+
Haruki, processing something with a little frown as he leans in, squeezing the older Nakamura's other arm and then slipping away, "Be back in a minute!"
−
pauses. "-- is that an idiom you know? English is made out of weird."
+
  
  
−
"I," says Edmond comedically self-importantly, "even know the ''origin'' of that phrase." Comedically; his fingertips are on his chest for a moment, which leaves suds on navy blue
+
There is a little more sinking-into-chair; if Czcibor's not careful, he'll sink completely under the table. He chuffs out an echoey little laugh, then reaches out to very lightly punch
−
hoodie-front. Then he finishes up and actually dries the dishes and puts them away. "Also, she is safe from being my type, I am not attracted to girls. I fear I break many, many
+
Dielle in the arm. "No story. Didn't you just hear the man? He has no idea what I'm talking about." Then he pushes himself up and waves to Itsuki, and smiles apologetically at Logan.  
−
hearts just by walking around."
+
"Yeah. I had a long talk with a friend afterwards, and she settled me out some on a problem I've been coping with. I just-- didn't want to--" He shakes his head and laughs. "It's not
 +
important. Anyway, yeah, Haruki and his brother have invited me over to watch television with them, and it's been a while since I've gotten to do anything like that. They were just  
 +
describing some of the shows they watch."
  
−
He ''sounds'' completely serious, but there's laughter in his eyes as he turns back to look at Kelsey, and there's fondness there. "I am a great deal older than I look, or act,
 
−
Kelsey. I think if you start groping me I will ask if you have changed your mind about hooking up, and if you say you have not, then I will inform you that you are in fact flirting
 
−
too much."
 
  
 +
Dielle murmurs a quiet "Thanks" at Logan. She nods in agreement about the topic of conversation, but since she hasn't really been saying much in it, she doesn't feel like she needs to say
 +
anything more about it. She grins at the arm punch, and waves at Itsuki as he leaves.
  
−
Kelsey steps back from the counter at this news --
 
  
−
-- to give himself room to drop into an extravagantly courtly bow over his left arm, right hand out in a fluid flourish, left foot drawn back in poised counterweight. He holds the
+
Haruki blushes at whatever Itsuki whispers at him. "Are you okay?" he asks Czcibor. He nods at Logan. "Yes. TV shows. What do you like watching?" he looks between both Logan and Dielle.
−
pose for a moment before straightening. "I'll keep that boundary in mind, and on your own head be the rest."
+
He still looks curious as to what they're talking about, but doesn't pry. Then he looks over at Dielle. "You'll let us know when training is? I think it'd be good for Itsy to be able to
 +
defend himself. But I don't want him getting hurt."
  
−
There's an instant's pause. "Mmm. I should tell you that I'm occasionally a girl. But only occasionally, and briefly, and honestly it almost always seems to happen when I have a
 
−
knife in my hand for reasons entirely unrelated to food. So it shouldn't be a problem, I think." He cocks his head to the side inquisitively; the motion makes a bright ruffle out of
 
−
the contained firefall of his ponytail. "I hope."
 
  
−
The voice in the back of his head screaming at him about why in the world he's opening his mouth on the subject in the first place is consigned ruthlessly to the same internal box
+
Logan pauses, hands in pockets, looking at Czcibor with an expression of patient amusement. His brows raise again, all sympathy as he nods his golden head. "Well. It's good to have
−
as the urge, a few moments ago, to touch that hint of sadness at the side of Edmond's mouth. The only hint of either unexplained touch of irrationality is a faint, faint brittleness
+
friends, isn't it?" Brilliant blue eyes linger on Czcibor's face for a moment longer before he focuses in on Haruki. "Well, I don't have as much time for teevee as I'd like, but there are
−
in his smile.
+
a few things I watch. The Man in the High Castle's really good, and I also like Westworld and Mr. Robot. Guess I've always been a bit of a sci-fi fan." He laughs a little and moves to the
 +
kitchen in order to open the fridge, though he's still within earshot. Besides, he's back soon enough, a can of lemon LaCroix in hand -- which this Waykeeper always keeps stocked here.
  
  
−
Edmond looks faintly taken aback, but then shrugs and smiles. "Well, you are not interested in hooking up-- or a serious romantic relationship-- anyway, so yes. That is fine." He
+
Dielle snickers. "I kinda mostly watch movies. And The Great British Baking Show." She looks proud of that and says, "I can't figure out how such a laidback show gets so damn TENSE."
−
leans against the counter himself, then, across from Kelsey. "If you were, I--"
+
  
−
The Elemental pauses, looking even more startled, and shuts his mouth. Then he frowns a little, and when he looks back up at Kelsey his eyebrows are up, like this is news to him but
 
−
it's topical and relevant so he's going to damn well share it anyway. "If you were, then for you, I would be willing to work on it. And I don't know why. I have known you less than
 
−
an hour, and that seems a silly thing to say. But-- just-- there is... trauma. So please do not surprise me by being-- ..." His mouth shuts again, as he looks for a way to put it.
 
  
−
Finally he sighs and straightens up, running a hand through his thick starry black hair. "I do not think you would do that. But in the interest of full disclosure, I will... freak
+
Haruki smiles at that. "Oh I watched that once. But I'm gluten free, so it was like torture. It's all the gluten everywhere." He looks at Logan. "Oh. I watched Westworld too. And I'll
−
out. If you are a girl and you start coming even close to the line I have drawn already."
+
maybe see the others. Only I don't want to watch nazis, not when there's so many around as it is."
  
  
−
There's a quick shake of Kelsey's head when Edmond trails off on the request not to surprise him. Another quick shake when Edmond is finished, and now the tail of his hair is hardly
+
Patient. The idea that anyone has to be patient in dealing with him-- which is entirely his fault-- well. Czcibor shifts in his seat again. It's easier to cope with when he doesn't want
−
a tail at all, as opposed to a bright half-glowing ball of dandelion fluff. He pulls it back over his shoulder and runs his fingers through it. "No," he says. "That's not something
+
someone to like him. Wanting that-- that makes everything more difficult. By stages, his mantle's gotten more confused in the presence of all the Dawn change; the flowers keep changing.
−
I'd do. That's -- we've all got trauma. The way we get along is by not ''stepping'' on it. And I understand. I --" He hesitates for an instant. "There are things that make me freak
+
Earlier spring, later spring, nearly summer, nearly winter-- and right now it's settled on snowdrops and petrichor, and he gives Logan a small, lopsided smile, and he just nods to the
−
out like that, too. I'll remember that's the same for you as ... as glass elevators are for me. So if I ever shift like that when I'm near you, I'll back off. Probably across the
+
assertion. Then he starts cleaning up his mess, wrapping wood shavings and dust in yesterday's newspaper, and pocketing both pen-knife and terribly amateur unfinished carving. "I like My
−
room. If that's okay, if that won't upset you."
+
Drunk Kitchen," he says absently, "on youtube. I have to get going, though, I'm really sorry. Haruki-- call me, okay? Dielle, please please call me when you have a few minutes to go over
 +
stuff I need to know; I'll bring booze, just text me what kind you prefer. Or if you prefer something else. Logan-- good to see you again, and I definitely hope to catch you for more than
 +
a few minutes next time!" He crumples the paper, smiles, and goes to collect his coat, limping gait present but not pronounced today.
  
  
−
"That is over-okay," says Edmond with a little shake of his head and a chuff of a laugh, bracing his hands against the edge of the counter. For what it's worth, he hasn't backed
+
Dielle nods at Czcibor and says, "Actually, I don't drink a lotta booze, but I'll be happy to have that talk over cake or pie or somethin'. I'll even supply it." She yawns and it's a big
−
off, hasn't even telegraphed it. "I can be close to you. I have many friends who are girls-- I do not avoid touching them, being near them. Hugs are okay! A kiss on the cheek is
+
yawn. "I think I'm actually gonna go, too. Haruki, I'll text you with the times, ok?" She gets up and grins at Logan and says, "Be nice to Haruki, yeah?" She doesn't say that like there's
−
okay! Just-- not-- just not anything that... hmm... that a sister or a mother would not do," he finally settles on, looking wry, looking apologetic.
+
any worry about it, though. "G'night, y'all."
  
−
Straightening up a little more, the starry boy looks down at his wooden hands, then glances up past Kelsey, and moves around the counter again to head back to the couch and the
 
−
lassi. "We do not step on trauma, yes, but sometimes related things can be stupid and awkward and upsetting to people we like, and I am sorry if-- this is--"
 
  
−
His hand closes on his glass, and he picks it up and holds it in both, and he just keeps looking down at it. "It is not you, or what is a part of you, and it is not me, and it is
+
Haruki's gaze flicks between Czcibor and Logan, back and forth as if he's trying to add something up. "I will. Definitely. Well text if that's okay? I prefer texts." He says to Dielle.  
−
not any of my friends who are girls, and it is not any other girls, it is just-- Her." He actually shuts his eyes and there's actually legimitately a flinch that ''stays'', like
+
"Goodbye! Thanks. I'll see you then." He then looks at Logan. "You going too?"
−
someone unused to alcohol getting a mouthful of straight scotch. A faint breath, and he forces himself to relax, and his words are quiet and firm, a resolution. "Someday I will be
+
−
able to make myself get past it. I am sorry. Our conversation was fun! And then I went left."
+
  
  
−
Couchward. Kelsey turns to trail after Edmond, if at a polite distance, and the couch shifts just a little as his relatively light weight settles down onto the other end of it. No
+
Logan flashes his beautiful grin to the people who are leaving. Just when he got here, too! Well, it is late. "Bye," he chirps, not really punctuating that with anything else. He sips his  
−
interruption of the awkward words, even in the hesitations. No distraction from the staring at the lassi.
+
LaCroix and says to Haruki, "Probably soon, since it doesn't seem like anyone needs me. By the way, I wouldn't worry too much about the Nazis in The Man With the High Castle. It's all
−
 
+
just a fantasy. Nothing like real life."
−
It's only after Edmond says that last, and finally finishes, that the couch shifts again. And that's all the warning he has before there are thin arms wrapped around his shoulders, and a
+
−
slim body pressed (through two hoodies) against his side, and a chin prodding firmly into his shoulder.
+
−
 
+
−
"Don't you start apologizing over that," Kelsey says, low and fierce. "Not to me."
+
−
 
+
−
 
+
−
There's surprise, but there's no flinch this time, no tension: apparently hugs *are* always okay. Except if Kelsey were covered in blood and gore it might be an issue. Difficult to say.
+
−
Irrelevant at the moment. Instead of tension, Edmond relaxes into that squish. He's warm even through the hoodies, and it's not just his mantle: he's ''warm'', alive and present, pulse
+
−
fluttering fast with the quick beat of his heart.
+
−
 
+
−
And Kelsey is so close. In addition to the scents of a storm-warning summer night, he smells of clean earth that's freshly turned, and of living forests, wild and untamed, and his Wyrd
+
−
offers the sense of expansiveness and awareness of astronomical distances and geological time. He feels like someone who should be patient and calm and solid, and somehow the electric
+
−
wildness of his Mantle's low angry warning fits with that. Somehow. There's a link, there's a ''sense'' to it, that only Kelsey's particular flavor of Autumn obsession would be able to
+
−
put together: this boy, if boy is even the right word, ''is'' that solid and that patient and that enduring, which means his Mantle indicates a very large temper at the end of a very,
+
−
very long fuse.
+
−
 
+
−
None of this washes with the twitchiness he'd displayed initially, or the recklessness of inviting total strangers into his home, or the sheer desperation to ''please them'' that's danced
+
−
about the edges of his interaction. Something happened, and happened recently, that's set this patient and solid creature off-balance. And none of this washes with his blithe, flippant
+
−
statements about packing everything in his car and leaving. Someone like this should put down roots, shouldn't live in a building where no one talks to each other, should be part of a
+
−
community, should become a fixture-- not steal a corpse for a fancy sandwich and be ready to bug out at a moment's notice.
+
−
 
+
−
But here he is, complicated and nonsensical, as damaged as the rest of them in myriad ways-- and here he is setting his glass down again and lifting his hands to hug Kelsey's arms around
+
−
his shoulders, living wooden hands polished-smooth and hard but warm, and he lightly leans his starry dark head against Kelsey's candleflame bright one. His voice is soft. "All right."
+

Latest revision as of 06:38, 26 November 2017

MT07 - Wayhouse - Nov 25

It's a couple days after Thanksgiving, and it's only chilly instead of outright cold, tonight. No snow, just grey skies not even bothering to loom threateningly-- maybe the clouds are tired or cranky or just not into it. Either way, it means the night's not pitch black, because the moon's lit the clouds up from behind, and in that strange light, everything outside is dark grey.

In contrast, the inside of the Wayhouse is warm and warmly lit, as welcoming and community-oriented as it ever is, and there's a man present who's recently taken to holing up there with various manual projects, at the dining room table, when he wants to be ostensibly social but doesn't want to go to the effort of seeking out company or subjecting himself to crowds.

Czcibor Kowal's in jeans and a nondescript zip-up maroon hoodie with hiking boots, a newspaper spread out on the table in front of him, and he's idly reading it as he carves into a split stick he's already stripped of bark. It doesn't look like it's something he's very good at, at all. But you don't get good at anything without practice, right?


Dielle comes into the Wayhouse. She's wearing that godawful sweater of hers, the one that's purple and green and scary shades of both. She doesn't have anywhere in particular she needs to be or any reason to be in the Wayhouse, she's just there because going to poke the bears in a different place doesn't sound like fun tonight. She sees Czcibor and calls out a hearty "Hey, there," to him.


The tin man looks up and grins. "Hey, Moon Princess," he says, setting the stick and the pen knife down, then reaching for his coffee as he looks her over-- and tries really hard not to look at her sweater. He sips his coffee, then sets it down as he tilts his head. "Captain Moon Princess, I mean. Are you okay?"


Dielle chuckles. "I'm just fine, Czcibor. Had to do some shopping today. I can trek in the Hedge for hours, but one trip through Costco just drains me. And on the weekend of Black Friday, too. This was after talkin' to a new girl, Peggy, and givin' a personal training session to an athlete" She gives a bit of a yawn and says, "How's your day been?"


"Eh," the Elemental says, wobbling his free hand and shrugging. "Quiet, which is good, I like quiet. Too much social drama and emotional friction the past few days. Really glad to just... not." He pauses, then reaches up to rub the back of his head. "I should have mentioned this before, but I-- I don't think I can go on the Ashen Hunt. I mean, if you need me there as a healer if any of our people get hurt, I can do that. I'll go as air. I don't know how they get organized around these parts, but the way they've been run in other freeholds I've been in..." He shakes his head. "Being terrifying and mob-chasing someone, or a group of someones-- mortals in this case... I just... I understand they need to die. But my brother was chased by the Wild Hunt. I can't... be the monsters that hunted him."


Dielle says, "You don't have to, Kowal. It's entirely voluntary. If you want, we can both go and sit on the sidelines and heal our people if they need it. Well, you can, I can just heal bruises and concussions and shit. I'm all for going and talking to these guys, or getting into a nasty brawl kinda thing, but...well, I ain't Autumn and it's not my scene, precisely." She sits down, and leans on the table and looks vaguely relieved that someone else shares her sentiments. "It's not even that I feel bad for these fuckers. They're murderers. But this ain't clean."


If Dielle looks relieved, Czcibor looks like her admission just took the world off his shoulders. All the hesitation drops away and he laughs, shoulders sagging, back thumping against the back of his chair. "Dzieki Bogu--! I thought it might be a requirement or something. It's-- there is a lot of Autumn that I admire fiercely. I am glad they are there to keep our lore and our magic; I am glad they are there to find ways to use the Gentry's magic against them-- but fear... fear is a blade with no hilt and no sheath. It's even easy for me to use-- and that's why it is so very important to me that I don't become it." Then he slouches down a little further and holds his mug in both hands, looking rueful. "And also, yes, it isn't clean."


Dielle smiles at Czcibor and it's a slow smile with as much relief as he has. "Don't know if it's because I'm me or because I was a unicorn. Or maybe it's the guy I'm with, and he just makes me want to be better than I am. But I prefer a clean fight and I'm not real happy that we're not gonna get to go back and have a chat with those guys. Shooting them in the head when they refuse to change is at least giving them a chance. They can fight back. This? Yeah, I really, really don't much like it."


There's a little tilt of his head again, and Czci's smiling a small, fond, lopsided little thing at Dielle. "I think it's probably because of who you are, if it's got you on a gut level like this." Then the smile fades and he looks into his coffee, which may or may not be laced with alcohol. "A clean fight is always preferable to assassination, and assassination preferable to murdering someone who's terrified and running from you because hell is literally on their heels. Because I'm me, I prefer-- when possible-- alternatives to death. A second chance with a sword of Damocles hanging above it, perhaps. Terror used as an educational tool rather than as cruelty in and of itself, and balanced with hope and knowledge. 'This is what could be done to you, but it won't be. You won't die if you never come after us again, if you leave. Or if you help us instead.' Rehabilitation. Pledge-binding. It's worked before-- but this isn't where I come from; I'm new here. This isn't my season. None of this is my call, and it shouldn't be." Then he looks up at Dielle again. "But if there's no other choice, then yes, let them at least go down fighting."


Dielle nods at Czcibor and says, thoughtfully, "I was gonna hold off on this, but I don't think I am, based on that speech. I'm promoting you to private in the Harvestmen. You've already shown you're effective in teamwork, which is the big thing, you can take orders as well as give them, and frankly, we need that. Especially since we're gonna need another Lieutenant, although I'm not promoting you to that, not yet. I want to see more before I do that." She looks pretty pleased, now.


Haruki's never completely comfortable at the wayhouse, but he's trying to get better. He's dragged Itsuki along with him today, if just to get out of the house and do something different. At least it's warm in here, unlike outside. "I still haven't found the books." He admits. "There's got to be books and information and, well it's not all online. Not that I can find, which is just as well since anyone would be able to read it then." He trails off at the sound of other voices, as he steps in to where they are.


Itsuki is dragged. The smaller Nakamura is slightly better dressed than last time anyone mighta seen him, wearing a new and comfortably warm looking oversized hoodie, and actual pants. He does look pretty glad at getting out of the cold, at least, shivering and looking actually interested. "Do... you think so? Is that a thing that they'd keep..." He trails off as they spot the other Lost. Offering a hesitant wave as he moves behind Aniki slightly.


To say that Czcibor looks... pole-axed... as the two boys are coming in would be an understatement. "I-- what, really? I feel like I just got here," he's saying to Dielle, blank eyes wide. "I'm honored, Captain. If there's anything you--" But they're actually coming in this direction, and the Pole's eyes flicker toward Haruki and his obvious brother, then back to Dielle like 'can we talk about this in front of them, is that okay?' but he's also lifting a hand in greeting, and smiling. "Is this the famed Itsy?" he calls with a laugh.


Dielle gives Czcibor a nod, and she says, "As far as I'm concerned, you've proven yourself, already, Kowal. Congratulations. I think...I think I'm gonna have to head up a squad myself, for a little while, but I'm gonna have to chat with Ashe and see what else I can do." She smiles and manages not to sigh. When Haruki and Itsuki walk in, she cuts herself off and turns to wave at them. "Hey, Haruki! How are you! And Itsuki, I haven't seen you in ages and ages! How are you both?"


"Czcibor, this is my baby brother, Itsuki," Haruki introduces them with a smile. "Are you okay?" He asks, concerned. "I can easy go, wander off elsewhere? We were looking for books." He smiles brightly at Dielle. "I'm good! You? It's so good to see you." He then glances at Czcibor. "Congratulations?"


Itsuki's nose twitches at the 'baby' brother line, but has long since started just ignoring it. Instead he waves again and then blinks at the greetings. "Famed? Uh. Hm. I guess I don't, um. Get out enough." The smaller twins offers an apologetic smile, "It's uh, nice to see you again though." This to Dielle, and then to Czcibor, "Um. It's nice to meet you, Cz..." He stumbles a little on the pronunciation of that one.


"...thanks, I think," the tin man says with a wry laugh. "But no, really, I'm glad you can trust me: it means I can be more useful. And maybe later you can give me a run-down of who's actually in which squad, since I know the intended organization in theory, but I haven't been able to figure out who actually does what beyond yourself and Rorschach." On the table in front of him is a truly amateur woodcarving in progress, with chips and shavings all over the newspaper he'd spread on the dining room table in front of himself. He grins at Haruki's introduction, and Itsuki's continuation. "Kowal," he laughs, and it's 'KO-val'. "Generally Captain Czcibor Kowal der Landeswehr, but-- now also Private Kowal of the Harvestmen. I am very glad you have found your brother, and that you are close. Family is important."


Dielle smiles at Czcibor and says, "I think that will be a good idea. But in the meantime, pardon me for a bit? I have to use the facilities. Sorry, everyone. Serves me right for eating Taco Bell." With that, she runs off into the bathroom.


Haruki nods at Czcibor. "Brothers are the best. Even baby ones." He moves to muss Itsuki's hair, affectionately. "This is Harvestmen things?" Is Kowal the name I should use, or Czcibor? I'm Nakamura Haruki, but Haruki's the name that's used." He looks curiously at the woodcarving. "What's that?" And then. "Czcibor has a hot air balloon? He's going to take me not to Oz, and I was going to invite Damion, because he's big and warm, and it's so cold, but Damion's busy."


Itsuki snorts, whapping as Aniki musses his already admittedly pretty messy hair, trying to look more grumpy than happy as he shrugs, "I suppose family is pretty okay." He concedes, clearing his throat and ah'ing as Dielle excuses herself. Waving and looking to the metal Pole, "Harvestmen? Are you guys like, an army?"


Wincing at poor Dielle's distress, Czcibor takes a sip from his doctored coffee and shakes his head at Haruki. "You can call me whatever's easiest. Czcibor is actually my middle name, and I've had so many nicknames in my life that it really doesn't matter. Kowal is even short for Kowalewicz. Ziv calls me Chee; my oathmate calls me Czcyk sometimes. I've spent the greater part of my adult life in Vienna, where calling people by their surnames is the norm, even friends-- so I am very very accustomed to being called Kowal." He glances at the carving in front of him and laughs. "That is me deciding to try a new hobby, one that doesn't involve either Star Trek novels or waving a sword around in the Hedge." Then he smiles and shrugs a little at Itsuki. "The Harvestmen are the defensive line for Fate's Harvest. Organized fighters. An army's generally rather bigger; this is more like a militia, as I understand it."


Haruki shakes his hread. "No, I should call you what you want to be called. That's so many names. I don't want to speak of more intimacy than I have with you, or be familiar if I'm not." His eyes light up. "OH! Are you watching the new star trek series? It's good to have lots of hobbies."


Dielle comes back and says, "Sorry about that! Don't be too quick to go in there. It's a little on the scary side. I refuse to give up meat entirely but I don't think my digestive system likes it all that much. Which is way, way more information than any of you wanted." She takes her seat back again and shuts up.


Itsy wrinkles his nose but looks sympathetic. "Yeah. Gave up meat before the changes anyway, but I really doubt I'd be able to handle any now. Had a few runs in just with dairy and. Um. Well. I can't eat dairy, anyway." The bun looks a bit embarrassed, looking back to the other conversation and nodding, "Oh, so you all drill and stuff? Militias aren't so much a thing back home."


"We're Veganish," Haruki says to Dielle. "My stomach doesn't agree with much. No gluten either." He admits. "So, well, I understand." He looks at Itsy. "You're not thinking of joining, are you? You'd get hurt. You're best and safest running away. You're so fast nothing can catch you."


"I don't watch a lot of TV," admits Czci, setting his coffee down and spreading his hands, then snorting at Dielle and just Not Commenting. He continues, "I'll probably binge-watch it when the season's over, though. I don't have the patience to wait a week between episodes. But I'm looking forward to it." He pauses, skipping over basically all the foodstuffs converstion, then squints at Haruki and Itsuki. "There is an entire squad of non-combatants. Which is amazing. It wasn't so, in Vienna. My cousin... my cousin was a bunny, too. She-- got overconfident, and went off by herself. If you did join, Itsuki, I would hope you wouldn't do something like that. That you'd let the combatants take attention off you, and run, and take the information back with you."


Dielle shakes her head. "Rorschach's squad /are/ combatants. They're all fighters, they're just better at scouting. Doesn't mean they /can't/ fight. But y'all are welcome to come train with us anyway, we got a few sparring sessions set up in the next few weeks. And a new recruit, who don't know much about fighting beyond which end of the sword to hold. Nice girl, so long as she remembers to keep her thumb OUTSIDE her fist when hittin' someone."


"I- I don't know. I was just asking." The monochromatic bun is obviously considering it *now* at least, looking up at the Polish man's description, features softening. "Oh. I'm sorry you lost your cousin." He offers the unicorn a grin, "Might watch, at least."


"If you wanted to, you could come watch it with us," Haruki offers. "If you like watching things with people. I like that. The social aspect of watching something weekly. Hanging out with friends, with some good food, and drink, and watching something on tv we all enjoy. The discussions and anticipation leading up to the new episode. It's so much more fun with others." He looks curious as noncombatants are mentioned.. "Could I train with you too?" He looks sympathetic and echoes Itsy. "Sorry about your cousin."


"Ooh, good to know," Czcibor says to Dielle, giving her an eyebrows-up fingergun. "Yet another instance of us really needing to talk about what the organization actually is as opposed to what it is on paper. Gonna keep my mouth shut on it until we get a chance."

Dielle and Czcibor are sitting at the dining room table, newspaper and a terribly amateur wood carving in progress on the table in front of the tin man, and Haruki and Itsuki are both standing near them, all four of them conversing.

"I'd-- actually really like that," the metal man says, startled at the invitation. "I haven't gotten to watch anything with people in a long time, and it's lots of fun. And-- thanks. It's been a lot of years, but-- like I said, family is important. So... thank you." He defers the training questions to Dielle, glancing to her.


Dielle says to the boys, "If you want to come train with us, you're both welcome to. I mean, obviously, I'd like to keep that to Freeholders only, but just maybe it'll get us a few more people. Although, admittedly, what we need are active people." She grins at them, and says to Czcibor, "Well, in this case, I've never seen the Irregulars NOT be able to fight, so what I understand them to be doesn't necessarily have much to do with how it started."


Haruki smiles at Czcibor, brightly. "We watch, um American Gods, when it's back on. And been watching Star Trek. And Game of Thrones, of course. And sometimes we just hang out and watch movies. And I've probably forgotten somethings we watch." He nods at Dielle. "We're both oathed. Itsy runs fast as anything. I'm... well I'm me. You know I'm not that good at much."


Ahoy! It's a Waykeeper! A real honest to god Waykeeper in the Wayhouse! Logan comes in from the cold, bringing cold air into the mud room as he continues through into the rest of the Wayhouse proper. Once he does, of course, he also brings a whole lot of bright light with him. He's wearing a navy blue coat over a yellow and blue rugby-style striped sweater, paired with blue pants and white sneakers with yellow soles. A suitably cheerful smile is given to the whole group. "Hi, everybody. It's always good to see people assembled here in the Wayhouse."


There's a nod to Dielle from Czcibor as he picks up his vodka-laden coffee and sips it again. "Paper versus performance, always." Then he grins at Haruki and Itsuki. "I'd love to. My contact info's tacked to the bulletin board-- just give me a call when you're planning on doing it next, and I'm in." When the door opens and lets in daylight from the nighttime along with the chilly air, the Elemental's suddenly shifting a little uncomfortably, biting his lip. 3... 2... 1...

"Logan I'm sorry for being a social disaster the other day!" he blurts out, putting his hands on the table and half-standing. "It was... a bad day."

That said, he realizes abruptly he was just now a social disaster again, and he clunks back into his chair and his metal hand clanks on his metal face as he drags it down it, mortified.


Dielle reaches over to pat Haruki's arm, lightly, and withdraw again. "I'm ok at a lot of things and not great at most of them and I just ended up as Captain of the Harvestmen. Then again, I'm damn fine at delegating." She looks over and waves at Logan. "HEY! How the hell have you been? I'd wondered if you were still in town, I haven't seen you much!" She grins at her fellow Dawn. (Her mantle's rather stronger than it had been.) Then she turns to look at her newest Private and snickers. "This sounds like a story."


"They are awesome, not bad!" Haruki tells Itsy with a smile. "But yeah, not the vampires and the werewolves. And not the demonhunting brothers." He nods at Logan. "Hello Logan. You and Itsy know eachother? Logan does magic tricks," he tells Itsuki. His eyes go wide as Czcibor apologises to Logan, and then he looks concerned. He smiles at Dielle. "Delegating is important too. And I think you're great at so much. Like being a friend, you're a great friend."


Logan's eyebrows raise briefly at Czcibor's little outburst. "I don't know what you're talking about, Captain." He pats a confident hand on Czcibor's arm. "I'm sure everything's fine. How are you feeling now?" Then he flashes his grin at Dielle. "Good to see you, Dielle. Congratulations on the promotion." Haruki and Itsuki get the smile next. "And good to see you too, Haruki. I'm not sure we have met, actually. I'm Logan." A golden hand is extended to Haruki as he asks the group, "What are you all talking about? Sounds like television."


Itsuki nods, blinking out of his reverie and taking the offered hand, shaking it. "Itsuki. Nakamura Itsuki. It's nice to meet you. Um." Cheeks turn a bit silver as he looks back to Haruki, processing something with a little frown as he leans in, squeezing the older Nakamura's other arm and then slipping away, "Be back in a minute!"


There is a little more sinking-into-chair; if Czcibor's not careful, he'll sink completely under the table. He chuffs out an echoey little laugh, then reaches out to very lightly punch Dielle in the arm. "No story. Didn't you just hear the man? He has no idea what I'm talking about." Then he pushes himself up and waves to Itsuki, and smiles apologetically at Logan. "Yeah. I had a long talk with a friend afterwards, and she settled me out some on a problem I've been coping with. I just-- didn't want to--" He shakes his head and laughs. "It's not important. Anyway, yeah, Haruki and his brother have invited me over to watch television with them, and it's been a while since I've gotten to do anything like that. They were just describing some of the shows they watch."


Dielle murmurs a quiet "Thanks" at Logan. She nods in agreement about the topic of conversation, but since she hasn't really been saying much in it, she doesn't feel like she needs to say anything more about it. She grins at the arm punch, and waves at Itsuki as he leaves.


Haruki blushes at whatever Itsuki whispers at him. "Are you okay?" he asks Czcibor. He nods at Logan. "Yes. TV shows. What do you like watching?" he looks between both Logan and Dielle. He still looks curious as to what they're talking about, but doesn't pry. Then he looks over at Dielle. "You'll let us know when training is? I think it'd be good for Itsy to be able to defend himself. But I don't want him getting hurt."


Logan pauses, hands in pockets, looking at Czcibor with an expression of patient amusement. His brows raise again, all sympathy as he nods his golden head. "Well. It's good to have friends, isn't it?" Brilliant blue eyes linger on Czcibor's face for a moment longer before he focuses in on Haruki. "Well, I don't have as much time for teevee as I'd like, but there are a few things I watch. The Man in the High Castle's really good, and I also like Westworld and Mr. Robot. Guess I've always been a bit of a sci-fi fan." He laughs a little and moves to the kitchen in order to open the fridge, though he's still within earshot. Besides, he's back soon enough, a can of lemon LaCroix in hand -- which this Waykeeper always keeps stocked here.


Dielle snickers. "I kinda mostly watch movies. And The Great British Baking Show." She looks proud of that and says, "I can't figure out how such a laidback show gets so damn TENSE."


Haruki smiles at that. "Oh I watched that once. But I'm gluten free, so it was like torture. It's all the gluten everywhere." He looks at Logan. "Oh. I watched Westworld too. And I'll maybe see the others. Only I don't want to watch nazis, not when there's so many around as it is."


Patient. The idea that anyone has to be patient in dealing with him-- which is entirely his fault-- well. Czcibor shifts in his seat again. It's easier to cope with when he doesn't want someone to like him. Wanting that-- that makes everything more difficult. By stages, his mantle's gotten more confused in the presence of all the Dawn change; the flowers keep changing. Earlier spring, later spring, nearly summer, nearly winter-- and right now it's settled on snowdrops and petrichor, and he gives Logan a small, lopsided smile, and he just nods to the assertion. Then he starts cleaning up his mess, wrapping wood shavings and dust in yesterday's newspaper, and pocketing both pen-knife and terribly amateur unfinished carving. "I like My Drunk Kitchen," he says absently, "on youtube. I have to get going, though, I'm really sorry. Haruki-- call me, okay? Dielle, please please call me when you have a few minutes to go over stuff I need to know; I'll bring booze, just text me what kind you prefer. Or if you prefer something else. Logan-- good to see you again, and I definitely hope to catch you for more than a few minutes next time!" He crumples the paper, smiles, and goes to collect his coat, limping gait present but not pronounced today.


Dielle nods at Czcibor and says, "Actually, I don't drink a lotta booze, but I'll be happy to have that talk over cake or pie or somethin'. I'll even supply it." She yawns and it's a big yawn. "I think I'm actually gonna go, too. Haruki, I'll text you with the times, ok?" She gets up and grins at Logan and says, "Be nice to Haruki, yeah?" She doesn't say that like there's any worry about it, though. "G'night, y'all."


Haruki's gaze flicks between Czcibor and Logan, back and forth as if he's trying to add something up. "I will. Definitely. Well text if that's okay? I prefer texts." He says to Dielle. "Goodbye! Thanks. I'll see you then." He then looks at Logan. "You going too?"


Logan flashes his beautiful grin to the people who are leaving. Just when he got here, too! Well, it is late. "Bye," he chirps, not really punctuating that with anything else. He sips his LaCroix and says to Haruki, "Probably soon, since it doesn't seem like anyone needs me. By the way, I wouldn't worry too much about the Nazis in The Man With the High Castle. It's all just a fantasy. Nothing like real life."

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