HAVEN: IN-CHARACTER CONTACT

[slushfund]

________________________________________ AUDIO. VIDEO. VOICEMAIL. ACTION.

Comments

[blowfish]

[ A worthless piece of shit?? Harshest yet, but it sounds like a joke, or like he expects Jesse not to take it seriously. Or too personally. This conversation has been this way from the start. ]

I dunno if "honourable" is the right word for that. [ There's an unspoken "wow dude" in his simple observation. It's a little amused. ] My story... that's a conversation that's gotta happen face-to-face, y'know, in person, if at all.

[ Which is a suspicious admission on its own. Haven has taken the edge off his paranoia-- does it even fucking matter anymore, what he used to do? Hardly. It's probably stupid to try and keep the details off the network, but you know, old habits die hard. ]

What did you do before you, totally voluntarily, joined our ranks?

[slushfund]

There are likely people listening into this already, y'know.

[matter-of-factly; hiruma firmly believes it, he's encountered it in holly heights. he knows that out of the bulk of people here, he ain't the only one keeping tabs.

he's been up and walking around for a while now, staying away from the apartments a little longer wouldn't be so bad. really, distractions are worth their weight in gold.]

So, meet me. We can share.

[blowfish]

[ He understands their conversations are being monitored by somebody. It's the biggest reason he's reluctant to say more. Hiruma offers a meet as a solution, which leaves Jesse feeling like he's done something right in order to interest him in taking that extra step. Not sure what that something is, exactly, but that's not the point. ]

Alright. [ He agrees, curious. It's a sharing date. ] Sure. Why not?

[ And just because he agrees now doesn't mean he has to give the whole story later, or even the truth. He'll decide when he gets there. Jesse moves on, figuratively and literally-- he's already getting up and heading for his front door. ]

You know the number of the block they dropped your ass in?

audio message;

[braavado]

Hey...Hiruma, right? It's Korra. We talked way back when you first got here.

I was just wondering if you ever found a teacher.

[slushfund]

You got it.

[hiruma remembers her, of course—her, and the information he's raked up on her.]

I haven't found a teacher, no... is this an offer?

[kaihentai]

Hey.

[Flatly.]

You got any psychics in your house? Mind-readers. That sorta stuff.

[slushfund]

[that's a familiar tone of voice; serious.]

No. Why?

[ballcrush]

Hiruma.

[slushfund]

[it comes after he's managed to cool off, and that's a small blessing.]

Yo.

action; continued from above

[blowfish]

[ Deafening, indeed. The wall shakes from the other side. Jesse appears in Hiruma's doorway shortly after, curious about... whatever the hell that was about. There are pros and cons to living together in such a tight space, hm?

Mostly cons. ]

Hiruma? [ He looks upset. Jesse is clueless. ] You tryin' to wake the dead? You're gonna bust your hand doin' that.

[ Careful degrees of concern. ]

wheezes

[slushfund]

[the voice startles him, and the look over is raw with—something.

hiruma stares hard at jesse for the longest goddamn moment, chest heaving, before quaking fingers curl and he drops the fist to his side. if there's one thing he can't stand, it's showing weakness; getting himself compromised by emotion, even if it is cold, cold fury, is just pathetic. there's no room for it, not for him.

but that's not what bother him the most.

had he heard?

hiruma steels himself, and that takes a colossal amount of effort.

no, that's impossible from what he's come in and said, there's no way. hiruma doesn't know how many people jesse knows who "left for home", but the number is bound to be up there. he met him at his eleventh month here. by now, it's probably almost the guy's—]

You've nearly been here a year...

[the voice is as stable as he can get it, but it still comes out hoarse.]

When is that.

[kaihentai]

Yo! Got somethin' to ask ya.

In exchange for those fightin' lessons.

[slushfund]

Was only a matter of time before you came to me with some fucking idea of yours.

[if this phone had a cord, he'd be twirling it.]

What do you want?

message, voice

[kaihentai]

You were right, I shouldn't have doubted ya.

[A pause.]

Partner.

[slushfund]

[ring, ring—the return call is almost immediate.

if sakamoto picks up, he'll be greeted with two words:]

Welcome back.

audio;

[braavado]

So... you should check on your bed whenever you get back to your room. I left something there for you.

[Surprise! It's a bo staff that he gets to keep.]

omg crying

[slushfund]

No shit?

[korra's been a constant in his daily routine (he's thankful for busy days). so while the call is surprising, it's far from unwelcome.]

Here I thought we didn't owe each other anything.

[kaihentai]

No lessons for a while. There's nothin' I can teach ya, not right now.

[Not like this.]

I'll be back.

[The feed ends.]

[slushfund]

[hiruma checks his phone's contacts list every morning—it wakes him like a biological clock's alarm.

so he's unsurprised when the call comes, and he's unsurprised when the call ends.

to a wrinkled comforter, his hand lowers, but tired eyes creased with the grogginess of a nap lift to the window. to the cracked pane smeared with the grime of decades of use, past it; to the sky she'll never see (a mind's already begun to click and whirr with strategy, but it's hard to think of something useful when the only thought that wants to prevail is get her back, go get her back).

"I guess that's what they do to save space. Fuckin' cheapskates."

fingers push into hair, and his eyes close with no promise of falling back to sleep.]

[blowfish]

[ There's something on top of Hiruma's comforter today!!! Is it a threat? Approach with caution, this is survival-horror after all.

Happily, it's not a bomb or a severed limb. It's... a shabbier looking version of this just lying there without anyone around to claim responsibility for its sudden appearance. Considering that this is Haven, the work is quite decent. No polish for the wood, no fancy trimmings, but it's smooth-surfaced without any missing pieces. Someone made this and left it for him to find, obviously.

There's no note. No clues otherwise. So how sharp is your memory, Youichi-kun. ]

[slushfund]

[bottle of water on hand, towel draped over his shoulders, hiruma stares down at the chess set.

his memory works against him for one minute. someone surely placed it on his cot by mistake, why else would the damn thing be there? but—who else would care for the game? not touchdown, that's for goddamn sure. and his brother hasn't been here long enough for anyone to give a damn. calypso has her loom, creativity is more her sway...

once the strategist works out that it really is his, the conclusion comes seconds later.

I hope you weren't expecting a leisurely game of chess.

funny, gifts don't find him often, but when they do it's winding. the water bottle nearly drops from his hand, arm jerking, which forces him into movement. a glance stolen at the door, then back. only once he ascertains he's alone, does he approach the pretty thing, lowering into a crouch by his comforter. it's decently done, which isn't a biased opinion—jesse pinkman just continues to surprise him, and it's not something he dislikes.

hiruma's thin fingers skim the smoothly checkered board, feeling the lack of polish. the king is plucked from its spot at the back of the array and held aloft; it's darker like its counterparts, the crown carved neatly with some great eye for detail. it's perfect like this, really, he has to amend to himself with a quiet smirk.

the hard work and thoughtfulness put into it is... well...

that unconventional praise is murmured under his breath as his chin tips up to follow the king between index and thumb, held up to the light filtering in the window.]

Son of a bitch.

audio; backdated 2/28

[braavado]

[The message is short when it comes. She has much to tell him about, but not on the phone.]

Got time to talk?

[slushfund]

[the reply is as swift as her introduction, if a bit lofty.]

I suppose I can clear my schedule. Where to?

action

[blowfish]

I need a favor.

[This is drawled in Hiruma's direction one of these days, seemingly out of nowhere. Jesse is lounging in the kitchen when he sees him enter and decides to ask. It's not really a big deal. He doesn't bring it up in any way that would imply that it is, but doesn't specify immediately either.]

You down?

[slushfund]

There are too many goddamn people in this housing block.

[hiruma sighs irritably, the flare of temper at the site of his coffee bag having been opened. time for extreme measures. time to ration it; requests will be processed and judged on hard work. the fuckers. he pulls it from the cupboard, winds it closed tightly, and turns to jesse like he's only just heard him.]

Sure, what is it?