[whatever sharon was doing gets interrupted by something bizarre. or at least it doesn't seem strange for the first few seconds, as she hears someone singing.
the voice is familiar, but if there's a rare probability that she is questioning who it belong to, she will spot jinx dancing to her own song. it's a... strange way to dance but at least she is in better spirits? it's hard to tell, really. ]
[ It's like a new frequency tunes in, and Sharon stills, holding the mask a little more tightly to her face as if that would strengthen whatever connection is being formed. And then—singing. A familiar voice, a familiar face.
There's a spark of joy, hot and bright, as she recognizes Jinx. The other will get flashes of a notebook, the lines of the pages filled with Sharon's sharp, angled writing. It's hard to make out the words, but sketches of faces line the margins. There are some faces she might recognize, but hers is the one that comes in most clearly. ]
Dancer, singer, and demolition diva. [ The words appear in her angled writing, tilted, messy, but readable. ] What can't you do?
[ The past few days have been overcast and windy, gusts making the older window panes rattle. There's a light dusting of snow on the ground, barely enough to leave a shoe print in, let alone make it hard to travel through. But, between the freeze and the wind, he hasn't set serious foot outside in at least a few days. It makes him feel cooped up, his usual inability to handle idleness mixed in with the restlessness that's been flaring under his skin in small jolts.
Today, though, the weak winter sun is peeking through a haze of clouds and there's no wind. While it isn't warm, it's pleasant enough to be out in for a decent amount of time. Which he intends to do, a plan forming.
Poking his head into the study, he finds Sharon cozied up in one of the squashy armchairs. ]
[ She perks up at the question, a quick grin tugging at her lips. With the cold keeping them holed up, she’s spent the past few days buried in books—sketching, journaling, reading—just trying to keep her mind busy. ]
Hell yeah. [ She's already shedding the blanket as she gets to her feet, dropping her journal and pencil onto the growing pile of worn books and papers. Like him, she’s been on edge. Restless. And after weeks of this, it’s hard not to feel like she should be doing something. ]
Been thinking about going outside anyway. [ she adds as she grab her coat, gloves still tucked in the pockets. The idea of freezing doesn’t bother her. Not right now. She just needs to move. ] Even just to retread places we've already searched.
[ the next time sharon puts on her mask, or perhaps gets the feeling to pick it up like a ringing phone, she'll get— a feeling, like someone has knocked on her door, thought twice about being a little louder, then left. ]
Sharon?
[ and that's it. jayce did not feel welcomed enough to intrude or even insist. ]
[ it's such a strange feeling, like he's trying not to intrude. she finds herself appreciating it. that sense of consideration. ]
Everything okay, Jayce? [ his connection is recognizable, instantly familiar in how he tries to make himself smaller—to be less imposing than he could be. ]
[Kalmiya greets her with the enthusiasm of a dog whose person has come home unexpectedly early from work, wiggles and all. At...what she hopes is a decent time of day, but that's sort of hard to discern when the concepts of both day and time have gotten so loose.]
[ There is something so positively overwhelming about the way Kalmiya greets her—excitable in a way that almost feels good. It pulls an immediate grin from her. ]
I mean... for lack of a better word, yeah. [ She knows for a fact that is not the word Arthur used. ] Why? [ A hint of playful suspicion. ] Did he do something stupid?
[ Is she already willing to say something on Kalmiya's behalf? Yes. Yes, she is. Congratulations, girl. ]
[ There's a deep, pulsing ache that comes from her end of the Murmur, but there's an additional hint of surprised appreciation at the sound of Toki's voice. ]
I mean—I'm alive now, but I'm pretty sure it killed me last night. [ Not pretty sure. She's confident it did. ] You—you got away, right?
[It's vague and hard to make out but with some effort a voice can heard whispering across tethered connection between Sharon and Ash. It's a low gravely voice that certainly isn't something Ash could mimic.]
[ The voice that whispers across the tether sets Sharon's teeth on edge, a single chill racing down her spine. Following the thread leads her right back to— ] Ash?
[ That... can't be right. ] Hey, hey, tell me you're there.
[it's only been an hour since her conversation with sharon, even though it feels longer without any real concept of time on their side. and as promised, she is making her way to the townhouse, her gaze lingering at the building while she chews on her lower lip. 'this is stupid', she thinks, contemplating just telling sharon she feels all better now and dipping off elsewhere. except the problem is, her friend can already hear her "this is stupid" comment and is possibly on her way to the door.
her nails comb through her locks with a sigh, then she kicks a rusted can out of her walkway as she paces onward. when she's at the door, she doesn't knock... probably doesn't need to; her side of the thread is fluttering with nerves for so many different reasons balled into one big cluck. it'd be silly to notice it. it'll take her (them) hours just to smooth it out, and she exhales an exasperating sigh about that, too. because here she is again... causing trouble, being more work than helpful. another kick to the dirt, and jinx shoves her fists in her pockets with her head tilting back and nose in the air.]
[ Sharon pays close attention to the tether between them as she waits. The closer Jinx draws, the sharper that awareness becomes. A faint thought flickers through from the other end: this is stupid. Sharon exhales softly, her lips twitching. She doesn't think it's stupid to need someone. Everyone does. To be held, to be seen, to feel safe... It's human.
She opens the door just as the other girl reaches it, leaning casually against the frame. Her gray pajamas are loose and smeared with dried paint in uneven streaks and spatters, her hair a frizzy halo of bleach blonde. The scent of smoke and paint cling faintly to her skin. ]
It's not stupid. [ Sharon says quietly, reaching to tug her inside, leading her toward the stairs. ] It's normal.
[ Her room is a bit of a mess. The bed is piled with blankets and pillows and looks like it's never once been made. True to her word, no weapons are visible, though there's a knife beneath the mattress and a baseball bat hidden in the closet. An easel stands off to the side with a painting still damp and red. A nearby desk is crowded with paint-stained glasses, brushes, and palettes, their colors hardened into tiny mountains.
There's a pile of dirty clothes next to the hamper in one corner—she's no Kobe!—and a plush chair covered in uneven stacks of books in another. Only the nightstand seems spared from the mess, and on it rests a single flickering candle, a worn sketchbook, and her golden mask. As she closes the bedroom door behind them, she says: ] Welcome to chez Sharon. [ Look, she knows a French word. ] Maybe I should've done a blanket fort instead of a... [ She glances at the pile.
It is way too early for that much pep. [ Her brain can't handle that before noon—and not without some shitty instant coffee first. ] Are all vets like this? [ Even in her sleepy haze, she recognizes the murmur signature. ]
[ Now awake and armed with a name to put to the weapon in his possession, it doesn't take Subaru long to locate who he's looking for in the Murmur. Or so he hopes. It comes as a polite, flinty spark of light, not overly warm and meant more as a mark of attention: ]
[ There is a sense of alert wariness when he catches her attention through the Murmur, as if she were standing just a little straighter. She doesn't recognize this voice. ]
Lortel. [ Her name falls from Sharon's lips like a sigh of relief. A faint ache wavers from her end of the connection. ]
I didn't go underground, so I missed the big one, but I did get into my own mess. The Hosts were aggressive as hell trying to protect the Runes we needed to free. [ A beat, and then: ] That thing didn't fuck you up too badly, did it?
[ From what she saw from Yuuto's perspective, that was... insane. ]
[ who knows where sharon has been on this day, out doing sharon things. but whenever she decides to come in her room, there will be a small thing sitting on her bed that wasn't there before.
if she looks closer, there's a small charm with a slim piece of paper folded underneath. there is something written on it; english not this writer's language, but it's straight to the point. it reads: ]
Found the problem. Told you I'd fix it. You're free now. - JINX.
[ her smile is immediately obvious through the murmur, practically beaming. ]
Depends on what you want to do. Or what... they like. [ is it megumi? she hopes it is. ] Can't say there's a wealth of date night spots these days, but I've found a working arcade if either of you wants to bond over a couple of games. Or you could whip up a picnic basket, take him—them to the park. [ trying not to make assumptions ] There's a couple of fun museums, too, if that's more your speed.
[Her place. She really had never planned to make this a long-term residence—or to have a long-term residence here at all. It's not in her nature to sit still in dangerous circumstances. Even now, there's a part of her that's ready to bolt the moment this place is compromised (the same part which has already decided what she'll grab first, the same part that rarely bothered to say goodbye when leaving a town behind.)
But this place is more than just her place. Somehow this overgrown little den became a place for others, too. When people wanted companionship, or understanding, or safety, they so often ended up here.
Kalmiya doesn't entirely understand it. But she can't bear the idea of taking that away.
So: her place. It will be far from the first time Sharon visits, though the context of this visit is very different from the rest. To say Kalmiya is nervous isn't exactly correct; it's more that she is very keenly aware that this could change things, potentially for the worse. At the time of most of her first dalliances with people here, their relationships were barely formed—there was plenty of room to shape them to fit this kind of intimacy.
It's a little different with someone like Sharon. Kalmiya already knows her, loves her, wants nothing more than to give her a place where she feels safe and understood. And there is a nonzero chance that things entirely out of Kalmiya's control could turn this into an unsafe experience for Sharon. Which Kalmiya is prepared for, which she will cushion as much as she's able to in such an unfortunate turn of events, but—
Above all, Sharon is her friend. Kalmiya never wants to be the source of a painful memory for her.
She decides to forego anything fancy—this isn't a date, after all, or if it is she was never made aware—but she does make the bed. Puts on clean sheets and blankets, a few extra pillows. Makes sure there's at least one reasonably clean bath towel hanging up. And very pointedly meditates on her tether with Sharon until the others quiet down a little. Closest thing to privacy that she can offer.
She's in little but an oversized pink sweater and fuzzy thigh-high socks when she answers the door for her guest, tails wagging in reflection of the bright grin on her face. She gestures Sharon in with a dramatic sweep of her arm.] Make yourself comfortable! You know where everything is.
[ Sharon laughs outright when Kalmiya sweeps her arm. She pauses to admire her for a beat, but there isn't much lechery in the look, even if the glimpse of skin between the pink sweater and thigh-high socks triggers a light, curious hunger. It's cute. It's Kalmiya. It makes her want to see more. ] Practically another home for me. [ She says lightly, amusement singing through the tether, along with a low lying anxiety. She slips her shoes off at the door, unwilling to track dirt, grime, or any potential Sleep-fungal biohazard deeper into Kalmiya's den.
Her relationship with Kalmiya is precious, something Sharon holds close. It's never felt awkward or strained, never edged with tension. It's always felt natural, even when Sharon couldn't quite follow Kalmiya's exuberant rhythms. The easy honesty. The gentle certainty of her hands when they curl together.
Sharon drops onto the bed and speaks with measured, careful sincerity, eyes fixed on Kalmiya's soft, heart-shaped face. This has been on her mind since she'd started the trek here. ] This... won't mess things up between us, will it? I love you, but I don't want to complicate our friendship, no matter how much I know I'd enjoy it.
[ She won't make that mistake again. Better to ask, to be upfront, than to hurt someone she loves, no matter how unintentionally. She knows Kalmiya enjoys sex, is open with it, but they already matter to each other. Some small, anxious part of her is afraid this could end the same way it did with Jinx. ] The last thing I really want to do is hurt you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
voice + projected but then later telepathic text
the voice is familiar, but if there's a rare probability that she is questioning who it belong to, she will spot jinx dancing to her own song. it's a... strange way to dance but at least she is in better spirits? it's hard to tell, really. ]
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There's a spark of joy, hot and bright, as she recognizes Jinx. The other will get flashes of a notebook, the lines of the pages filled with Sharon's sharp, angled writing. It's hard to make out the words, but sketches of faces line the margins. There are some faces she might recognize, but hers is the one that comes in most clearly. ]
Dancer, singer, and demolition diva. [ The words appear in her angled writing, tilted, messy, but readable. ] What can't you do?
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action > some time in the 3rd week idk
Today, though, the weak winter sun is peeking through a haze of clouds and there's no wind. While it isn't warm, it's pleasant enough to be out in for a decent amount of time. Which he intends to do, a plan forming.
Poking his head into the study, he finds Sharon cozied up in one of the squashy armchairs. ]
Feel up for some target practice?
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Hell yeah. [ She's already shedding the blanket as she gets to her feet, dropping her journal and pencil onto the growing pile of worn books and papers. Like him, she’s been on edge. Restless. And after weeks of this, it’s hard not to feel like she should be doing something. ]
Been thinking about going outside anyway. [ she adds as she grab her coat, gloves still tucked in the pockets. The idea of freezing doesn’t bother her. Not right now. She just needs to move. ] Even just to retread places we've already searched.
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some time during week 4
Sharon?
[ and that's it. jayce did not feel welcomed enough to intrude or even insist. ]
;;; jayceeee
Everything okay, Jayce? [ his connection is recognizable, instantly familiar in how he tries to make himself smaller—to be less imposing than he could be. ]
:')
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july event, week 4ish?? hand wobbling motion
[Kalmiya greets her with the enthusiasm of a dog whose person has come home unexpectedly early from work, wiggles and all. At...what she hopes is a decent time of day, but that's sort of hard to discern when the concepts of both day and time have gotten so loose.]
You're friends with Arthur, right?
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I mean... for lack of a better word, yeah. [ She knows for a fact that is not the word Arthur used. ] Why? [ A hint of playful suspicion. ] Did he do something stupid?
[ Is she already willing to say something on Kalmiya's behalf? Yes. Yes, she is. Congratulations, girl. ]
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early week 1
That shit kinda sucked, huh? [An understatement.] You okay?
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I mean—I'm alive now, but I'm pretty sure it killed me last night. [ Not pretty sure. She's confident it did. ] You—you got away, right?
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Sometime late at night through October
Let them all die, child, so all of us can live...
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[ That... can't be right. ] Hey, hey, tell me you're there.
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action;
her nails comb through her locks with a sigh, then she kicks a rusted can out of her walkway as she paces onward. when she's at the door, she doesn't knock... probably doesn't need to; her side of the thread is fluttering with nerves for so many different reasons balled into one big cluck. it'd be silly to notice it. it'll take her (them) hours just to smooth it out, and she exhales an exasperating sigh about that, too. because here she is again... causing trouble, being more work than helpful. another kick to the dirt, and jinx shoves her fists in her pockets with her head tilting back and nose in the air.]
... Fuck.
action;
She opens the door just as the other girl reaches it, leaning casually against the frame. Her gray pajamas are loose and smeared with dried paint in uneven streaks and spatters, her hair a frizzy halo of bleach blonde. The scent of smoke and paint cling faintly to her skin. ]
It's not stupid. [ Sharon says quietly, reaching to tug her inside, leading her toward the stairs. ] It's normal.
[ Her room is a bit of a mess. The bed is piled with blankets and pillows and looks like it's never once been made. True to her word, no weapons are visible, though there's a knife beneath the mattress and a baseball bat hidden in the closet. An easel stands off to the side with a painting still damp and red. A nearby desk is crowded with paint-stained glasses, brushes, and palettes, their colors hardened into tiny mountains.
There's a pile of dirty clothes next to the hamper in one corner—she's no Kobe!—and a plush chair covered in uneven stacks of books in another. Only the nightstand seems spared from the mess, and on it rests a single flickering candle, a worn sketchbook, and her golden mask. As she closes the bedroom door behind them, she says: ] Welcome to chez Sharon. [ Look, she knows a French word. ] Maybe I should've done a blanket fort instead of a... [ She glances at the pile.
Well.
It's comfy, at least. ]
action;
action;
action;
action;
action;
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This might sound crazy.
But I kind of organized a group to go into the subway.
...And it turns out it wasn't really a total waste of effort this time around.
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You weren't hurt, were you? [ She wants to clear that first before they discuss anything else. ]
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november, week 4;
Good morning.
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early january week one.
Is this Sharon?
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Yeah, that's me. What's up?
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post-rat king, maybe like a day or two later?
[ with warmth. ]
I wanted to see how you were. Did you get involved in the fight?
perfecto!
I didn't go underground, so I missed the big one, but I did get into my own mess. The Hosts were aggressive as hell trying to protect the Runes we needed to free. [ A beat, and then: ] That thing didn't fuck you up too badly, did it?
[ From what she saw from Yuuto's perspective, that was... insane. ]
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very last day of january; an item left on her bed.
if she looks closer, there's a small charm with a slim piece of paper folded underneath. there is something written on it; english not this writer's language, but it's straight to the point. it reads: ]
Found the problem. Told you I'd fix it. You're free now. - JINX.
Laaaaate Jan
If, ah, you were trying to think of a good spot for a ... a date, in this awful city ... where do you think one might ... go?
[ it is not AT ALL like her to stutter.
help. sharon wan kenobi you are her only hope ]
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Depends on what you want to do. Or what... they like. [ is it megumi? she hopes it is. ] Can't say there's a wealth of date night spots these days, but I've found a working arcade if either of you wants to bond over a couple of games. Or you could whip up a picnic basket, take him—them to the park. [ trying not to make assumptions ] There's a couple of fun museums, too, if that's more your speed.
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mid-Jan. (from MFLN)
But this place is more than just her place. Somehow this overgrown little den became a place for others, too. When people wanted companionship, or understanding, or safety, they so often ended up here.
Kalmiya doesn't entirely understand it. But she can't bear the idea of taking that away.
So: her place. It will be far from the first time Sharon visits, though the context of this visit is very different from the rest. To say Kalmiya is nervous isn't exactly correct; it's more that she is very keenly aware that this could change things, potentially for the worse. At the time of most of her first dalliances with people here, their relationships were barely formed—there was plenty of room to shape them to fit this kind of intimacy.
It's a little different with someone like Sharon. Kalmiya already knows her, loves her, wants nothing more than to give her a place where she feels safe and understood. And there is a nonzero chance that things entirely out of Kalmiya's control could turn this into an unsafe experience for Sharon. Which Kalmiya is prepared for, which she will cushion as much as she's able to in such an unfortunate turn of events, but—
Above all, Sharon is her friend. Kalmiya never wants to be the source of a painful memory for her.
She decides to forego anything fancy—this isn't a date, after all, or if it is she was never made aware—but she does make the bed. Puts on clean sheets and blankets, a few extra pillows. Makes sure there's at least one reasonably clean bath towel hanging up. And very pointedly meditates on her tether with Sharon until the others quiet down a little. Closest thing to privacy that she can offer.
She's in little but an oversized pink sweater and fuzzy thigh-high socks when she answers the door for her guest, tails wagging in reflection of the bright grin on her face. She gestures Sharon in with a dramatic sweep of her arm.] Make yourself comfortable! You know where everything is.
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Her relationship with Kalmiya is precious, something Sharon holds close. It's never felt awkward or strained, never edged with tension. It's always felt natural, even when Sharon couldn't quite follow Kalmiya's exuberant rhythms. The easy honesty. The gentle certainty of her hands when they curl together.
Sharon drops onto the bed and speaks with measured, careful sincerity, eyes fixed on Kalmiya's soft, heart-shaped face. This has been on her mind since she'd started the trek here. ] This... won't mess things up between us, will it? I love you, but I don't want to complicate our friendship, no matter how much I know I'd enjoy it.
[ She won't make that mistake again. Better to ask, to be upfront, than to hurt someone she loves, no matter how unintentionally. She knows Kalmiya enjoys sex, is open with it, but they already matter to each other. Some small, anxious part of her is afraid this could end the same way it did with Jinx. ] The last thing I really want to do is hurt you.
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