Six months. Roger had lasted six months before the cracks started to show.
It didn't take a genius to pick up on being lied to. Yuri is inclined to believe he's never been a genius, now or ever, but the old man's behavior raised so many red flags Yuri finally forced him to come clean.
...by getting him super drunk at his favorite bar. It was a night - full of tears and snot (from Roger) along with confusion and anger (from Yuri). It was only after he spoke to Keith and Margarete, getting their side of the story, did he even believe his name was really Yuri.
After that, it's been nothing but downhill.
A year and a half later he finds himself living a life he imagined he used to have - drifting through towns, stowing away on trains and boats. Well, boat. Nobody warned him about the horrific seasickness that seems to try to kill him on the way over to China.
Never again. Roger can figure out how to fly places.
Shangai doesn't bring what he's looking for - recognition. Nostalgia. Anything other than the indifference. Margarete offered to travel with him for a time, thinking her own stories would jog his memory, but he's on his last leg of hope here.
Does he even want any of that back? He has run across a few shopkeepers who recall him visiting - the reactions have been mixed, to say the least.
He's standing outside a bar, hands on hips and contemplating just going inside and getting obliterated. Yeah, that sounds like a plan. Without further thought, he enters the bar, not worried about keeping a low profile by any means. What's the point of it? A fight might do him some good.
The funny thing about tracking demons was that it was, simply put, almost fucking impossible. They could look like anyone they felt like, travel wherever they wanted without being limited by trains or boats or whatever else, but finally, after what felt like forever, she had a good lead. That lead had brought her to Shanghai— a first, though she's no stranger to travel, and she knows she sticks out here even more than she usually does.
The hair, in particular, draws attention, and most people in the bar she's taken up residence in have been giving her a wide berth since one patron had gotten a little too chummy with her and walked away with a couple of broken fingers. The barkeep had chosen to overlook it this once, if only because said patron was a repeated offender, but anything else might be pushing her luck.
She's halfway through her second drink when the door opens and Yuri walks in. There's nothing about his appearance that strikes her as significant, but he still manages to command her attention— there's an undercurrent that moves through the room, dark energy that makes her feel just a little bit on edge, and that all-too-familiar voice at the back of her head offers his two cents.
"Lookit that, Sunshine! Can't say for sure what he is, but he's some kinda freak. Might just be our guy. Only one way to find out, you know..."
"Shut up," she mutters under her breath, but even so, she grabs hold of her drink and angles herself just slightly towards the door, watching the new arrival with veiled intent, curious. He's probably just here for a drink like anyone else, but Tyrann is right, much as she hates to admit it. He's not human.
He ambles up to the bar, ordering a beer and parking at the bar itself. There's a crowd, which isn't such a bad thing, but this crowd looks fairly local. Which means he stands out.
Or maybe he just gives off a vibe, because the trouble makers sure latch onto him as soon as he has his glass in hand.
"Don't recognize ya."
A heavy sigh makes his shoulders droop, and he wonders if this has always been his life. Knowing the luck he has, it has. Maybe that should be reassuring but right now it's real fucking annoying, just like this guy coming up to him to show off for his friends. He decides to ignore him.
"Yo, you look at someone when they're talking to you."
Rolling his eyes, he downs the beer and turns to face this idiot. One of those tough guys. One who immediately turns ghost white when he sees Yuri's face.
"Aw, shit, nevermind man."
That's...new. Yuri gives the guy a baffled look as he scrambles away, clear out the door before he has a chance to say anything. He blinks a few times, then glances around the room. There's a few people staring - old bartender pretending to clean a glass, a lady with blonde...white? Hair. Glaring at him?
That's what he's used to. Usually from the men, though.
Shaking his head, he turns back to the bar. Maybe he should chase after the guy, but he's fricken tired. Can't he just have a night? A day?
Cursing to himself, he slams a bill down on the counter and takes off after the weirdo. He's gonna get some answers at least.
So much for observation. Whatever energy he'd brought into the bar with him, it follows him right back out— but she doesn't intend to lose sight of him so easily. Even when he'd noticed her staring, she hadn't batted an eye, and subtlety isn't something she puts too much stock into on a normal day. Slamming money down on the bar behind her, she shoves herself off of the stool she'd occupied and heads towards the exit, ignoring the barkeep's shout that she'd overpaid.
She has eyes on him almost immediately upon leaving the bar, and takes off at a run to keep up. Wherever he intends to chase his own prey, she plans to follow— and seeing how this guy deals with him? That'll tell her a whole lot of what she needs to know in itself.
He's about a conspicuous as they come - making a direct beeline to the men who had just left. They see him coming, and with eyes wide they scurry off, down an alley way. He doesn't hesitate to follow them, and it's in the shadows of that very alley that he sense someone following him.
His shoulders tense, but he stays the course, torn between running after the idiots (who have already booked it around the corner) and confronting the presence behind him. It doesn't seem very friendly, and he wonders if he could just...go back to his hotel.
Take a nap.
Go back to Europe.
With a sigh, he knows that isn't a choice for him and he stops abruptly, whipping around to confront his shadow.
"You wanna tell me what's going on?" He says...to nothing he can see. Shit, this hellhole is pitch black. Can't see nothin'.
She stops short in his wake, and when he turns to face her, she's standing there in the open rather than trying to appear inconspicuous, her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. The dark doesn't bother her so much, but she still can't see much more than his outline here in the alleyway, and she's willing to bet he can't see much more of her, either.
"Depends."
Shit, even when he talks, she can feel that demonic energy pulsing through the air surrounding. Whatever the hell he is, it sure as hell isn't human.
"C'mon, sunshine, why waste time talkin'? Rip him to shreds! Bet he bleeds real good..."
She closes her eyes for a brief moment, exhaling to steel herself before fixing her gaze on him— her vision is starting to adjust, and while there's still several feet of space between them, it's a small distance that either of them could clear in no time.
"Is that even your own goddamn face you're wearing?"
His expression can only be described as dumbfounded. Emphasis on dumb. Shaking his head, he goes into Hero Mode or at least Guy You Don't Mess With Mode. Crossing his arms over his chest, he cocks a hip to the side and frowns at her. He opens his mouth to answer as his eyes adjust to the dim light and something in the color of her hair, the lines of her face, pings some recognition.
"Hey, you're that lady from the bar!" He sounds accusing. "Why you worrying about my face, anyway? You like it?"
You've found a stupid man, Kaine. Not completely, though, since there is an energy that surrounds her he hasn't felt before. It sure as hell isn't Light based either.
She gestures broadly, bracing a hand against her hip. He seems like he has the potential to be a talker. She's not so sure she's into that.
"Not particularly," she all but spits back, her jaw tight. "But I got a feeling it ain't yours. The whole mood of that bar changed when you strolled in. Doesn't seem like a fucking coincidence to me. I can practically smell the demon on you from here."
Alright, that might be a little bit of a stretch, but they're trying to out-Tough Guy each other here, right?
Great. Someone able to pick up on his fusion vibes. Most folks just skirt around him, if he's got his glare on for the day, but otherwise he does his best to seem like average man out for the day.
It's hard not to roll his eyes, but a hand does come up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "What, you some kinda exorcist or something? Look, it's a long story but I'm not starting fights. Just looking for info. Once I get it, my ass will be out of Shanghai before you know it."
God forbid she decides to become a babysitter. He has a feeling he's run into that plenty in his life. Whatever his life had been before.
[With some fish successfully caught, 2B admires their catches as she cradles them in her arms, an uncharacteristic glow behind what features are still visible. Her mouth falls open as she considers their weight – decent – and she looks at Kaine with newly formed conviction.]
Good catches.
[She seems... excited about this, and is making sure that Kaine is listening before she turns to her support unit.]
Pod. What are they?
[A blip in response as it considers for a moment...]
[Kainé nods in response— she was far from a professional angler, but if you wanted to eat, you learned how to fend for yourself. Good to know those skills were still going to serve her well here, especially since she's not interested in guzzling oil or whatever the hell it is these androids use to power themselves.]
Yeah, not bad. Better than I expected to find.
[But if they have moose and boars, she guesses it makes sense that there are still fish hanging around. Humans couldn't fucking cut it, but the wildlife was doing alright.
She narrows her eyes a little as 'Pod' lists off the names one after the other, curious.]
So he just— helps you with whatever the hell you ask? Doesn't give you any shit?
[Satisfied with their catch, 2B nods in the direction of the Resistance Camp, just up the hill. There's a small corridor between buildings that dwarf the camp, hiding them away from any machines who happen to pass by.]
Each unit deployed to the ground are assigned pod units. They're useful to have and provide intel and support in battle.
[Pod 042 gets a pointed look.]
If our Pods disobey orders, we can order them to temporarily shut down.
[Basically, if they give them shit. Same thing, right?]
[An actual, honest-to-god smile pulls at one side of her mouth.]
Wish I could have used that trick on that goddamn book.
[As it was, there was no combination of words she could spit out, no threat she could ever make that had been enough to make Weiss shut the hell up. She's actually kind of jealous of this whole pod situation, except if she were being honest, she misses that stupid magazine a hell of a lot more than she's willing to let on.]
Friend of mine— floating dictionary with his head up his own goddamn index. Never shuts up.
[2B's mouth falls open, confused. She knows what a dictionary is, but trying to imagine what a floating book filled with words describing other words is a bit too big-brained for her android brain to process.
A floating device like her Pod is not odd by any stretch—for her—but she's never heard of a book that could do the same thing? Or talked, for that matter, but one step at a time here!]
[Not that she knows of. And even if there were, 2B might have a hard time believing in it. Though, there are some things that she does find magical, like these fish, and the way that the lunar tears glow all pretty-like.
But then, she recalls watching some data logs of the humans—many of them, in fact—and there is something that dings somewhere in her memory banks.]
Oh... Hm. [As if she's having some kind of revelation in this very moment.] Do you mean pulling animals out of hats?
[That's what the humans did, and she's sure that they called it magic.]
What does a man who has been so caught up in the plights of the world do when there is no longer a world that needs his intervention? It's a question that Nier asks himself each day that he rises, faces himself in the looking glass as he trims and grooms the scraggly facial hair that dots along strong jaw line. In a simple room over is his daughter, an existence he didn't realise he could come back with. In the face of hopelessness, somehow...
They've managed to come out of it unscathed. How? He's asked himself that plenty of times as well. Is this the real world, or is simply a dream created from everything he's ever wanted? It's unrealistic in the world that everyone can be saved. It's unrealistic that he can partake in the world with those he considers closest. Yet that seems to be the way of it, doesn't it? His brow furrows, a hand tracing along his jaw in thought.
His work never ends. He still runs errands. Still travels. Still misadventures for the sake of those of the village, a name synonymous with 'home.' When he steps out for the day after exchanging a hug with Yonah, her words echo with him.
"Don't be out too late, Dad, otherwise dinner will get cold!"
He wears a weakened smile. He's made plans on this day. At least, they'll be plans if he can find the one they involve. Kainé is a wild spirit. Always has been. Unrestrained. A storm with no leash at times, though one he has come to appreciate. Difficult to hold onto, but despite whatever may sometimes leave her mouth, her heart and her intentions have always been purely good. In her, he has found a confidant. A particular spark of affection that he doesn't always acknowledge the way he'd like to.
Broadsword slung over his back, he eyes the sky, squinting into the distance. The village is a good ten minutes by foot behind him. She's never much liked visiting it and he understands why, despite the idea that she's ever infinitely welcome in his home, at his table, for she too, is family.
"What's the best way to catch a Kainé?" he contemplates aloud, the grim little smirk growing. "Obscene words."
It's a joke, really. If she was a fish, he'd catch her with every swear word he knows. He hopes he won't have to resort to that, however.
it's okay the song is in chaos language anyway! EVERYONE LIVES
It's the first time she can ever remember not having a purpose.
For years, the only thing she had cared about was revenge. When she finally had it, she was prepared to give up, to lay down and die and finally see her grandmother again, if the afterlife was kind enough— or real. Even that had been optimistic, given what she had become to achieve her ends, but it was something to hold onto. It was Nier who kept her from letting herself slip away, and from then on, she had been his sword— pledged to his cause, determined to fight until his family was put back together.
He had that, now, and while he had made it clear that she was welcome, she hadn't yet been able to bring herself to take him up on any of his offers to visit. She'd tried to go back to her hut outside of the Aerie, but as much as she'd insisted she would never miss the damn shithole, it didn't feel the same, knowing there was a gaping chasm right behind her shack where the town used to be.
No place felt right for her, not anymore. Maybe that was what had lead her in the direction of the village that day— she was out of options, and out of things to fight for. Just for the sake of it didn't feel like enough, not anymore, and without Tyrann driving her forward...
She felt like she'd been cut adrift. Human again, an echo of a girl she doesn't remember, the one who'd died along with her grandmother all those years ago, and she doesn't know what to do with herself.
She spots him in the distance before he can see her, and quickly scales the crumbled remains of an old world bridge to watch his approach from a high perch. She catches him ruminating aloud as he draws closer, and it's almost enough to make her smile.
He's looking for her.
"Hey, old man!" Her voice rings out clearly from somewhere above him, and she leans forward over the edge to peer at him, grabbing hold of one of the protruding iron bars to keep her balance. "Out hunting?"
He knows that voice anywhere. He can remember the first time he's heard it, the sharp edge in it, the force behind it, a woman determined to wear both strength and femininity without one cancelling the other out. Those of the Aerie had cast her out and given her no place to call home. She had been, has been a creature of misfortune. That he's been able to add meaning to her life is an unparalleled joy. He acknowledges that nothing about their camaraderie has been one-sided. Kainé gives to him as much as he does the same for her.
In a way, she too, is his purpose. He knows better than to say it, however. She'd cut him off before he got more than a few words out, following up with some smart-ass comment. Quite possibly a punch if he's too close when he dares to say something sentimental to her. But he knows she doesn't reject the notion on the inside. It is simply that old habits die hard, if they die at all. His own habits remain glued to him, even if he has learned to compromise with them, to see past them.
They are both imperfect and flawed and in that, they find perfection.
"Hunting for a woman," he answers up to her, letting her little jab slide right on by. She's right, after all. Age has had its way with him and there is little in their empty, dystopian world that will save him from that fate. "Maybe you've seen her. Mouthy, intimidating, likes to argue with old men and books. Has a thing for white flowers."
And unforgettable. Of all things, Kainé is unforgettable.
“Hunting for a woman? Pretty barbaric, if you ask me.”
The quip is almost immediate, and even from where he stands, the twitch of her lips into a lopsided smirk is visible— she never truly smiles, but Nier and Emil have each managed to get her close enough on more than one occasion. The description he gives is so accurate it’s laughable, and she settles for an amused snort in response.
“She sounds like a real piece of work.”
She leaves her perch then, standing long enough to push off of the rubble and and leap towards the ground, landing beside him in a low crouch. Close up, she notices that he looks… good. Happy. Life is as it should be for him— it makes sense. He doesn’t look as hollowed-out and hellbent as he had while Yonah was gone.
… good. She’s happy for them.
“Well, looks like you found me,” she goes on to remark, propping one hand against her hip and giving a vague gesture with the other. “If I’d known you were looking, I wouldn’t have made it so easy for you. Gotta keep you on your toes in your old age.”
His amusement is palpable, as if it could simply be cut with the nearest blade in hand. If she were anything less than the woman he's come to know her to be, Nier doubts his journey would have been filled with nearly as much mirth. Kainé and Weiss exchanges never failed to fill an otherwise bleak world with something Nier can only define as 'light.' Having one without the other is a curious notion. A missing piece to the portrait that has been otherwise completed. Still, Kainé remains a welcome sight.
A part of him is relieved that she hasn't seen it fit to simply dismiss him. If one had asked him if she would have chosen to continue associating herself with him following the end of their little adventure, he wouldn't have been able to answer such confidently.
"She's a real handful," he admits, though doesn't seem at all displeased to be putting all of his cards out on the table.
What use has he in hiding what he thinks? Where others have shunned her for so much of her life, Nier feels only a distinct fondness. An understanding. A desire to give her a place where she can belong. That even should she feel the rest of the world will not accept her, he and Yonah always will. It sounds so definite when he thinks it, and yet he knows very well that it is little more than adamant truth.
Kainé lands and as she rights herself, Nier rolls his shoulders. Age is catching up to him. Time sometimes feels like an irrelevant concept, but he knows it looms over him, pressing proverbial claws into his shoulders and pulling him down into some invisible abyssal embrace. Eventually, time will have its way with him, but he's willing to let the age jokes go for now. He's worked this hard for the life that he can live, after all. He wants to enjoy it. With his daughter. With Kainé. Wil Emil. With the memories that linger in the depths of him of simpler days and times.
"My toes might not work so well the older I get, but—" Nier presses the pad of his forefinger to the side of his nose with a grin that reflects the lopsided one she gives to him. To her, it may seem so simple, but to him, it's water and he is a parched desert. "I'm not an old man, yet. I'd still find you. Kainé smell. I'd detect you all the way down in Seafront."
She lets out a short bark of laughter; of their little traveling party, she was never the one who let herself come to smell like sweat and dirt and blood and dust, despite Weiss’ insistence on her being foul, but Nier has long since learned how to communicate with her. She doesn’t receive kindness or compliments well, doesn’t know how to— playful barbs are more comfortable. It’s a language she feels she can speak openly without making herself too vulnerable.
He’d probably be able to find her anywhere, if he put his mind to it. Just like she’d be able to find him— which she’d been on her way to do, though now that he’s here, she doesn’t know if she wants to admit that so readily.
“Guess that’s what I get for befriending a two-legged bloodhound,” she says idly, but she does manage another smile, tired and a bit forced though it may be. It’s good to see him like this— at all, really, but especially like this, in good spirits. Happy.
“How’s Yonah?” Her thoughts immediately turn to the only reason she can think of for that happiness. She can’t even entertain the thought that she herself might have played a part, but her concern is genuine. “Kid’s been through a lot of shit. She holding up okay?”
Wow I had this open for like an hour and never hit post.
It's a better response than shut up, which Nier has heard plenty of in his misadventuring at her side. Or rather, hers at his, he supposes. In spite of the nature of their exchange, Nier's smile is a softer one, exposing a part of the man that he thought he'd lost. The state of the world has had an opportunity to take its way with him, destroying the hope that he's clung to in the face of ever-growing adversity.
Without even the hint of a pause, his initial response is what comes first—the closest thing to a bark that Nier can express. She'll love it, he's sure, and honestly with his tenacity, maybe comparing him to a dog isn't completely wrong either. He makes a note to ask Yonah about it later and see what her very professional opinion is like.
Kainé asks what is probably the most pertinent question that one could ask him. Truthfully, it almost seems as if his daughter has somehow been untouched by the situations that they've all been through. Is that the power of youth? Is it simply his desire to perceive things that way? Nier has a lot of questions, but tries not to overthink it too much. All that should really matter is how they're here now. In the present moment. Very much in the flesh.
...Or so it would appear, anyway.
"She's tough," Nier replies with an undeniable fatherly pride. "Always has been." Has never had a chance to be anything less than, unfortunately. "Some days it doesn't even seem like things are any different than they were before we ever found Weiss. She asks about you all the time, though. You should really reconsider spending more time with us. You're always welcome, Kainé."
She won't want to hear it, but he has to say it anyway.
I can't believe being barked at is the most romantic thing that's ever happened to her
It does get something dangerously close to a laugh out of her— a rarity, something she can't remember doing outside of his company in years, and only very rarely within it. He lets insults and name-calling glance off of him as if they were nothing, probably because he knows better than anyone that from her, the coldest thing would be to say nothing at all. She appreciates never having to translate for him.
He practically glows when he talks about Yonah. It makes something deep down in her chest ache; not unpleasantly so, but seeing that kind of devotion was so rare in this world. If there was ever any doubt that their efforts had been worth it, that all of the shit they'd been through together meant something, that note of pride in his voice whisks it all away.
It had been absolutely worth it.
"She's a resilient kid. Probably gets that from you."
It's almost a compliment— almost. Then, there's that offer again, the one he's made before, the one she doesn't know how to let herself accept. She frowns a little, folding her arms as she averts her gaze and fixes it on some unimportant point to her right. Easier than looking right at him, at least, even if it's stupid and pointless.
"You might say I'm welcome, but your neighbors wouldn't be too happy about it." It's a flimsy excuse at this point, maybe, but they'd made their feelings about her and Emil quite clear in the past.
It was like anywhere else, aside from Facade— Kainé was better off staying outside the walls.
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tonight we're gonna party like it's 1920! in shanghai wow so nice
It didn't take a genius to pick up on being lied to. Yuri is inclined to believe he's never been a genius, now or ever, but the old man's behavior raised so many red flags Yuri finally forced him to come clean.
...by getting him super drunk at his favorite bar. It was a night - full of tears and snot (from Roger) along with confusion and anger (from Yuri). It was only after he spoke to Keith and Margarete, getting their side of the story, did he even believe his name was really Yuri.
After that, it's been nothing but downhill.
A year and a half later he finds himself living a life he imagined he used to have - drifting through towns, stowing away on trains and boats. Well, boat. Nobody warned him about the horrific seasickness that seems to try to kill him on the way over to China.
Never again. Roger can figure out how to fly places.
Shangai doesn't bring what he's looking for - recognition. Nostalgia. Anything other than the indifference. Margarete offered to travel with him for a time, thinking her own stories would jog his memory, but he's on his last leg of hope here.
Does he even want any of that back? He has run across a few shopkeepers who recall him visiting - the reactions have been mixed, to say the least.
He's standing outside a bar, hands on hips and contemplating just going inside and getting obliterated. Yeah, that sounds like a plan. Without further thought, he enters the bar, not worried about keeping a low profile by any means. What's the point of it? A fight might do him some good.
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The hair, in particular, draws attention, and most people in the bar she's taken up residence in have been giving her a wide berth since one patron had gotten a little too chummy with her and walked away with a couple of broken fingers. The barkeep had chosen to overlook it this once, if only because said patron was a repeated offender, but anything else might be pushing her luck.
She's halfway through her second drink when the door opens and Yuri walks in. There's nothing about his appearance that strikes her as significant, but he still manages to command her attention— there's an undercurrent that moves through the room, dark energy that makes her feel just a little bit on edge, and that all-too-familiar voice at the back of her head offers his two cents.
"Lookit that, Sunshine! Can't say for sure what he is, but he's some kinda freak. Might just be our guy. Only one way to find out, you know..."
"Shut up," she mutters under her breath, but even so, she grabs hold of her drink and angles herself just slightly towards the door, watching the new arrival with veiled intent, curious. He's probably just here for a drink like anyone else, but Tyrann is right, much as she hates to admit it. He's not human.
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Or maybe he just gives off a vibe, because the trouble makers sure latch onto him as soon as he has his glass in hand.
"Don't recognize ya."
A heavy sigh makes his shoulders droop, and he wonders if this has always been his life. Knowing the luck he has, it has. Maybe that should be reassuring but right now it's real fucking annoying, just like this guy coming up to him to show off for his friends. He decides to ignore him.
"Yo, you look at someone when they're talking to you."
Rolling his eyes, he downs the beer and turns to face this idiot. One of those tough guys. One who immediately turns ghost white when he sees Yuri's face.
"Aw, shit, nevermind man."
That's...new. Yuri gives the guy a baffled look as he scrambles away, clear out the door before he has a chance to say anything. He blinks a few times, then glances around the room. There's a few people staring - old bartender pretending to clean a glass, a lady with blonde...white? Hair. Glaring at him?
That's what he's used to. Usually from the men, though.
Shaking his head, he turns back to the bar. Maybe he should chase after the guy, but he's fricken tired. Can't he just have a night? A day?
Cursing to himself, he slams a bill down on the counter and takes off after the weirdo. He's gonna get some answers at least.
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She has eyes on him almost immediately upon leaving the bar, and takes off at a run to keep up. Wherever he intends to chase his own prey, she plans to follow— and seeing how this guy deals with him? That'll tell her a whole lot of what she needs to know in itself.
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His shoulders tense, but he stays the course, torn between running after the idiots (who have already booked it around the corner) and confronting the presence behind him. It doesn't seem very friendly, and he wonders if he could just...go back to his hotel.
Take a nap.
Go back to Europe.
With a sigh, he knows that isn't a choice for him and he stops abruptly, whipping around to confront his shadow.
"You wanna tell me what's going on?" He says...to nothing he can see. Shit, this hellhole is pitch black. Can't see nothin'.
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"Depends."
Shit, even when he talks, she can feel that demonic energy pulsing through the air surrounding. Whatever the hell he is, it sure as hell isn't human.
"C'mon, sunshine, why waste time talkin'? Rip him to shreds! Bet he bleeds real good..."
She closes her eyes for a brief moment, exhaling to steel herself before fixing her gaze on him— her vision is starting to adjust, and while there's still several feet of space between them, it's a small distance that either of them could clear in no time.
"Is that even your own goddamn face you're wearing?"
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"What?"
His expression can only be described as dumbfounded. Emphasis on dumb. Shaking his head, he goes into Hero Mode or at least Guy You Don't Mess With Mode. Crossing his arms over his chest, he cocks a hip to the side and frowns at her. He opens his mouth to answer as his eyes adjust to the dim light and something in the color of her hair, the lines of her face, pings some recognition.
"Hey, you're that lady from the bar!" He sounds accusing. "Why you worrying about my face, anyway? You like it?"
You've found a stupid man, Kaine. Not completely, though, since there is an energy that surrounds her he hasn't felt before. It sure as hell isn't Light based either.
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She gestures broadly, bracing a hand against her hip. He seems like he has the potential to be a talker. She's not so sure she's into that.
"Not particularly," she all but spits back, her jaw tight. "But I got a feeling it ain't yours. The whole mood of that bar changed when you strolled in. Doesn't seem like a fucking coincidence to me. I can practically smell the demon on you from here."
Alright, that might be a little bit of a stretch, but they're trying to out-Tough Guy each other here, right?
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It's hard not to roll his eyes, but a hand does come up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "What, you some kinda exorcist or something? Look, it's a long story but I'm not starting fights. Just looking for info. Once I get it, my ass will be out of Shanghai before you know it."
God forbid she decides to become a babysitter. He has a feeling he's run into that plenty in his life. Whatever his life had been before.
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i need new icons dang
I gotta get you those screencaps!
gurl yaaaaas
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i shall pummel you with tags that are a year due
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pressing fast forward on our old meme thread a teenie bit
Good catches.
[She seems... excited about this, and is making sure that Kaine is listening before she turns to her support unit.]
Pod. What are they?
[A blip in response as it considers for a moment...]
Koi Carp. Arowana. Killfish. Bloatfish.
[Wow!!!]
oh this is heckin' cute
Yeah, not bad. Better than I expected to find.
[But if they have moose and boars, she guesses it makes sense that there are still fish hanging around. Humans couldn't fucking cut it, but the wildlife was doing alright.
She narrows her eyes a little as 'Pod' lists off the names one after the other, curious.]
So he just— helps you with whatever the hell you ask? Doesn't give you any shit?
[This is Important, she needs to know.]
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Each unit deployed to the ground are assigned pod units. They're useful to have and provide intel and support in battle.
[Pod 042 gets a pointed look.]
If our Pods disobey orders, we can order them to temporarily shut down.
[Basically, if they give them shit. Same thing, right?]
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[An actual, honest-to-god smile pulls at one side of her mouth.]
Wish I could have used that trick on that goddamn book.
[As it was, there was no combination of words she could spit out, no threat she could ever make that had been enough to make Weiss shut the hell up. She's actually kind of jealous of this whole pod situation, except if she were being honest, she misses that stupid magazine a hell of a lot more than she's willing to let on.]
Friend of mine— floating dictionary with his head up his own goddamn index. Never shuts up.
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[2B's mouth falls open, confused. She knows what a dictionary is, but trying to imagine what a floating book filled with words describing other words is a bit too big-brained for her android brain to process.
A floating device like her Pod is not odd by any stretch—for her—but she's never heard of a book that could do the same thing? Or talked, for that matter, but one step at a time here!]
How did it float?
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[Really the only explanation for it. She looks annoyed just thinking about him, but not so much that she can't answer 2B's questions.]
I'd say it's not common, but I've seen at least two other floating books— they were even bigger assholes than he was. He was just the first.
[And the lovable kind of pompous asshole, really.]
Do you guys have magic here?
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[Not that she knows of. And even if there were, 2B might have a hard time believing in it. Though, there are some things that she does find magical, like these fish, and the way that the lunar tears glow all pretty-like.
But then, she recalls watching some data logs of the humans—many of them, in fact—and there is something that dings somewhere in her memory banks.]
Oh... Hm. [As if she's having some kind of revelation in this very moment.] Do you mean pulling animals out of hats?
[That's what the humans did, and she's sure that they called it magic.]
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Not that I've ever seen. Read about it in some kids' stories, though.
[Maybe that's the kind of thing people used to use magic for.]
Only thing magic seems to be any good for now is killing shit.
[Which, honestly, she can get behind.]
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I'M SINGING THE WORDS TO A SONG THAT I DON'T KNOW. Post game bullshit? Everyone lives?
They've managed to come out of it unscathed. How? He's asked himself that plenty of times as well. Is this the real world, or is simply a dream created from everything he's ever wanted? It's unrealistic in the world that everyone can be saved. It's unrealistic that he can partake in the world with those he considers closest. Yet that seems to be the way of it, doesn't it? His brow furrows, a hand tracing along his jaw in thought.
His work never ends. He still runs errands. Still travels. Still misadventures for the sake of those of the village, a name synonymous with 'home.' When he steps out for the day after exchanging a hug with Yonah, her words echo with him.
"Don't be out too late, Dad, otherwise dinner will get cold!"
He wears a weakened smile. He's made plans on this day. At least, they'll be plans if he can find the one they involve. Kainé is a wild spirit. Always has been. Unrestrained. A storm with no leash at times, though one he has come to appreciate. Difficult to hold onto, but despite whatever may sometimes leave her mouth, her heart and her intentions have always been purely good. In her, he has found a confidant. A particular spark of affection that he doesn't always acknowledge the way he'd like to.
Broadsword slung over his back, he eyes the sky, squinting into the distance. The village is a good ten minutes by foot behind him. She's never much liked visiting it and he understands why, despite the idea that she's ever infinitely welcome in his home, at his table, for she too, is family.
"What's the best way to catch a Kainé?" he contemplates aloud, the grim little smirk growing. "Obscene words."
It's a joke, really. If she was a fish, he'd catch her with every swear word he knows. He hopes he won't have to resort to that, however.
it's okay the song is in chaos language anyway! EVERYONE LIVES
For years, the only thing she had cared about was revenge. When she finally had it, she was prepared to give up, to lay down and die and finally see her grandmother again, if the afterlife was kind enough— or real. Even that had been optimistic, given what she had become to achieve her ends, but it was something to hold onto. It was Nier who kept her from letting herself slip away, and from then on, she had been his sword— pledged to his cause, determined to fight until his family was put back together.
He had that, now, and while he had made it clear that she was welcome, she hadn't yet been able to bring herself to take him up on any of his offers to visit. She'd tried to go back to her hut outside of the Aerie, but as much as she'd insisted she would never miss the damn shithole, it didn't feel the same, knowing there was a gaping chasm right behind her shack where the town used to be.
No place felt right for her, not anymore. Maybe that was what had lead her in the direction of the village that day— she was out of options, and out of things to fight for. Just for the sake of it didn't feel like enough, not anymore, and without Tyrann driving her forward...
She felt like she'd been cut adrift. Human again, an echo of a girl she doesn't remember, the one who'd died along with her grandmother all those years ago, and she doesn't know what to do with herself.
She spots him in the distance before he can see her, and quickly scales the crumbled remains of an old world bridge to watch his approach from a high perch. She catches him ruminating aloud as he draws closer, and it's almost enough to make her smile.
He's looking for her.
"Hey, old man!" Her voice rings out clearly from somewhere above him, and she leans forward over the edge to peer at him, grabbing hold of one of the protruding iron bars to keep her balance. "Out hunting?"
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In a way, she too, is his purpose. He knows better than to say it, however. She'd cut him off before he got more than a few words out, following up with some smart-ass comment. Quite possibly a punch if he's too close when he dares to say something sentimental to her. But he knows she doesn't reject the notion on the inside. It is simply that old habits die hard, if they die at all. His own habits remain glued to him, even if he has learned to compromise with them, to see past them.
They are both imperfect and flawed and in that, they find perfection.
"Hunting for a woman," he answers up to her, letting her little jab slide right on by. She's right, after all. Age has had its way with him and there is little in their empty, dystopian world that will save him from that fate. "Maybe you've seen her. Mouthy, intimidating, likes to argue with old men and books. Has a thing for white flowers."
And unforgettable. Of all things, Kainé is unforgettable.
I love them...
The quip is almost immediate, and even from where he stands, the twitch of her lips into a lopsided smirk is visible— she never truly smiles, but Nier and Emil have each managed to get her close enough on more than one occasion. The description he gives is so accurate it’s laughable, and she settles for an amused snort in response.
“She sounds like a real piece of work.”
She leaves her perch then, standing long enough to push off of the rubble and and leap towards the ground, landing beside him in a low crouch. Close up, she notices that he looks… good. Happy. Life is as it should be for him— it makes sense. He doesn’t look as hollowed-out and hellbent as he had while Yonah was gone.
… good. She’s happy for them.
“Well, looks like you found me,” she goes on to remark, propping one hand against her hip and giving a vague gesture with the other. “If I’d known you were looking, I wouldn’t have made it so easy for you. Gotta keep you on your toes in your old age.”
His mind could go any day now, right?
;-; They are both so perfect...
A part of him is relieved that she hasn't seen it fit to simply dismiss him. If one had asked him if she would have chosen to continue associating herself with him following the end of their little adventure, he wouldn't have been able to answer such confidently.
"She's a real handful," he admits, though doesn't seem at all displeased to be putting all of his cards out on the table.
What use has he in hiding what he thinks? Where others have shunned her for so much of her life, Nier feels only a distinct fondness. An understanding. A desire to give her a place where she can belong. That even should she feel the rest of the world will not accept her, he and Yonah always will. It sounds so definite when he thinks it, and yet he knows very well that it is little more than adamant truth.
Kainé lands and as she rights herself, Nier rolls his shoulders. Age is catching up to him. Time sometimes feels like an irrelevant concept, but he knows it looms over him, pressing proverbial claws into his shoulders and pulling him down into some invisible abyssal embrace. Eventually, time will have its way with him, but he's willing to let the age jokes go for now. He's worked this hard for the life that he can live, after all. He wants to enjoy it. With his daughter. With Kainé. Wil Emil. With the memories that linger in the depths of him of simpler days and times.
"My toes might not work so well the older I get, but—" Nier presses the pad of his forefinger to the side of his nose with a grin that reflects the lopsided one she gives to him. To her, it may seem so simple, but to him, it's water and he is a parched desert. "I'm not an old man, yet. I'd still find you. Kainé smell. I'd detect you all the way down in Seafront."
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He’d probably be able to find her anywhere, if he put his mind to it. Just like she’d be able to find him— which she’d been on her way to do, though now that he’s here, she doesn’t know if she wants to admit that so readily.
“Guess that’s what I get for befriending a two-legged bloodhound,” she says idly, but she does manage another smile, tired and a bit forced though it may be. It’s good to see him like this— at all, really, but especially like this, in good spirits. Happy.
“How’s Yonah?” Her thoughts immediately turn to the only reason she can think of for that happiness. She can’t even entertain the thought that she herself might have played a part, but her concern is genuine. “Kid’s been through a lot of shit. She holding up okay?”
Wow I had this open for like an hour and never hit post.
Without even the hint of a pause, his initial response is what comes first—the closest thing to a bark that Nier can express. She'll love it, he's sure, and honestly with his tenacity, maybe comparing him to a dog isn't completely wrong either. He makes a note to ask Yonah about it later and see what her very professional opinion is like.
Kainé asks what is probably the most pertinent question that one could ask him. Truthfully, it almost seems as if his daughter has somehow been untouched by the situations that they've all been through. Is that the power of youth? Is it simply his desire to perceive things that way? Nier has a lot of questions, but tries not to overthink it too much. All that should really matter is how they're here now. In the present moment. Very much in the flesh.
...Or so it would appear, anyway.
"She's tough," Nier replies with an undeniable fatherly pride. "Always has been." Has never had a chance to be anything less than, unfortunately. "Some days it doesn't even seem like things are any different than they were before we ever found Weiss. She asks about you all the time, though. You should really reconsider spending more time with us. You're always welcome, Kainé."
She won't want to hear it, but he has to say it anyway.
I can't believe being barked at is the most romantic thing that's ever happened to her
He practically glows when he talks about Yonah. It makes something deep down in her chest ache; not unpleasantly so, but seeing that kind of devotion was so rare in this world. If there was ever any doubt that their efforts had been worth it, that all of the shit they'd been through together meant something, that note of pride in his voice whisks it all away.
It had been absolutely worth it.
"She's a resilient kid. Probably gets that from you."
It's almost a compliment— almost. Then, there's that offer again, the one he's made before, the one she doesn't know how to let herself accept. She frowns a little, folding her arms as she averts her gaze and fixes it on some unimportant point to her right. Easier than looking right at him, at least, even if it's stupid and pointless.
"You might say I'm welcome, but your neighbors wouldn't be too happy about it." It's a flimsy excuse at this point, maybe, but they'd made their feelings about her and Emil quite clear in the past.
It was like anywhere else, aside from Facade— Kainé was better off staying outside the walls.
You know how it is. Dogs attract other dogs and all of that.
you're absolutely right.
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we can probably fade this one soon but it sure left me with a lot of emotions
GONNA FADE US HEEEEERE