27_53 | (no subject)

They are in a new town, one with almost-proper winters (at least, he thinks they are almost-proper winters; Katya merely laughs at the clouds when they attempt to spit snow and only manage a flurry of icy drizzle that melts before it hits the ground) and good food. There is a market near enough to the loft they've settled in to, and while the furnishings are not quite as upscale as their last residence, it is habitable.

And in all honesty, habitable is enough right now.

Skellig had begun to feel strange ever since they had arrived in the town, but hadn't been able to figure out why.

Not at first, anyway.

There was a reason they had come here aside from the prospect of better food (even if the ethnic population allows for a wider variety of 'proper' bread) and colder winter weather.

And he had seen evidence that there was something, not like him, not like her, but something else entirely, that needed further investigating. So they had stayed. And things at the bar had begun to get stranger and stranger, so he stayed away, focused on the signs he was seeing in his (their) world instead of symbols and mysteries at the bar.

It has gotten him nowhere.

Tonight, he is sitting on the roof in the shadows, face lit only by the glow of the cigarette dangling between his lips. His eyes are closed as he sits, listening, listening, trying to focus in on what little trace he has to go on.

She patrols the Gloom on nights when he gets like this - leaves him to sit and listen with his cigarettes and sometimes a bottle of the mid-shelf vodka they pick up from the corner store. There is no vodka tonight.

Only smoke.

(And mirrors.)

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From:

katyafeline

She slides out of the Gloom in the light cast by his cigarette, to casually press up against his back, warming her fingers in his feathers.

From:

27_53

He doesn't startle as she slips from the dull glow, merely tilts his head in an odd sort of 'greeting' as she comes close.

Drawing a breath, he reaches into his coat pocket for the pack of smokes and holds it up behind him, offering them without turning around.

From:

katyafeline

"Spasiba." She plucks the pack out of his hand, shaking a cigarette loose before replacing it. The cigarette lights itself in a very good show of common sense - she isn't in the mood to go fiddling around with lighters tonight.

From:

27_53

"De nada," he replies, taking the pack back and sliding it into his coat pocket once again.

Silence a moment, and then:

"Find anything interesting?"

From:

katyafeline

There's an almost-suppressed shudder, the vibration as slight as a restive bird.

"Nothing pertinent." She consigns her ghosts back to their graveyards. "You?"

From:

27_53

"Possibly."

He inhales, deeply, holding his breath. The smoke curls in his lungs and dulls his senses, but yet...

"It is out there. Tonight."

From:

katyafeline

"Da?" He is not Other, and she is not like him, just enough alike that they fit together - she has found the thing he hunts frustratingly elusive. Her grin is sharp as knives and as delighted as Christmas morning.

"Perhaps tonight will be the last time?"

From:

27_53

"If it has any sense, it will be."

Clearly the creature must realize that pissing off two other creatures as powerful as they are is a bad idea, right?

From:

katyafeline

You'd think, but Katya has given up all hope of self-preservation instincts from her Dark opposites. Some days Katya has no problem with this whatsoever.

She tousles his hair in a careless, fond gesture.

"And if it does not, perhaps we can teach it some, yes?"

From:

27_53

He tips his head into her hand, grinning at the contact.

"I was actually hoping that would be the case. It has been a long time since we've had the...pleasure, of such a thing."

From:

katyafeline

"So violent." She tsks, failing to sound stern as she does so. She enjoys hunting with a partner. Smoke curls into the night air, thick and pungent.

"If you wished to dance, you only need to name the tune."

From:

27_53

"True, but then there is so much...effort."

And recovery.

"Though it is enjoyable."

From:

katyafeline

"Lazy." She tsks, stepping away and towards the edge of the roof, careless of the drop beyond.

From:

27_53

"I am not always."

He watches her walk towards the rooftop, and studies her form against the lights of the city below. He pushes himself up from his crouch and moves to stand behind her, looking down at the drop.

"I think this time we will take the stairs?"

From:

katyafeline

She glances over her shoulder to eye him worriedly (teasingly), her boots sending chunks of snow over the edge of the roof.

"Are you well?"

From:

27_53

"Not entirely," he admits (honestly), with a shrug of his shoulders. "This...is bothering me," he adds, motioning out at the darkened city below them. "A lot."

A pause.

"And the stairs were suggested because I should likely get my coat. Unless we want to attract attention from the start."

From:

katyafeline

She wrinkles her nose at him, then dances forward (and not flinching, never flinching, no matter how the recent memory of being flung back resonates) to plant a quick kiss on his cheek and to share some of her energy.

Then she stripes and bounds away, heavy muscles making light work of the spaces between rooftops.

"Meet you down there, slowpoke!"

From:

27_53

The kiss does help - at the very least, he breaks into a grin - and then he turns on his heel, moving quickly for the doorway that will take him off the roof and back to their apartment.

And then he cheats - leaping from the fire escape window of their living room, coat held in one hand; he pauses to shrug it on in the alley below, before he starts walking after where she's headed.

(She left no tracks, but he can Tell where she's been."

From:

katyafeline

She's waiting two streets down, leaning against the brickwork, admiring a new bracelet she's bought - it was silver and shiny and the haggling for it passed the time.

Jackdaws have nothing on her.

From:

27_53

He doesn't slow his walk as he approaches, and it's easy enough to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her to his side, pulling her away from the bricks.

"Now who is being lazy, hmm?"

His steps barely make any sound, and it's not the boots he's wearing - his feet are barely touching the concrete.

From:

katyafeline

That is not fair - now she's even shorter. So she tweaks his hair in retaliation.

"I was productive - you can never have too many protection amulets." She snorts, though she hasn't gone so far as to charge her new bracelet yet.

From:

27_53

"No, you cannot," he agrees.

Hopefully they run into whatever it is that has been driving him mad the last few days - if not, this will have been good exercise, but still. His eyesight is sharp as they walk, gaze drifting down sidestreets and alleyways, searching out the face of every person they pass.

"It is very shiny," he adds. "I like it."

From:

katyafeline

"It is marvelous." She corrects, being carted about by a crazy birdman. His nervousness is making her nervy, all fast fingers and sharp grins and the decided likelihood that she will do severe damage to whomever she goes for first.

From:

27_53

He has tried to rein in his anxiety, but it can be difficult. After another moment of walking, he pauses at an intersection.

"It is not a snake," he says. "But it is...maddening. Poisoning the mind. Not like me but...not different, either."

Skellig looks both ways, debating.