jigokulogs | [ OPEN ] sunrise, sunset

Entry tags:

[ OPEN ] sunrise, sunset

Who ⬤ Kim Kitsuragi & YOU
What ⬤ March substories (night parade & babysitting bad trips) & more!
When ⬤ Throughout March
Where ⬤ Throughout Jigoku-cho
Content Warnings ⬤ Drug use for the applicable substory, otherwise n/a

a. high definition.

[ When Kim notices people exiting the drug testing location looking decidedly worse for wear, his first instinct is to simply ignore them. They knew what they signed up for, did so willingly, and evidently did so without having the contingency of planning for a friend to accompany them and keep them safe afterwards. He stands off to the side for a frankly unconsciable amount of time, reasoning that some good samaritan will choose to be helpful. It doesn't have to be him. He's done enough of babysitting people on unadvisable drug trips for an entire lifetime, and he's not keen on repeating the experience.

Except it quickly becomes clear that nobody else is going to step in, even when he's given one or two passer-bys a hopeful glance. Whether it's the blindness, hallucinations, or general revelry that influences people to make terrible decisions, participants in the study are going to wind up being a danger to themselves or others, Kim decides, and reluctantly approaches one of them. ]

Khm. Excuse me. Are you all right?

[ He knows the answer to that question. It's no, because agreeing to be the guinea pig for unknown drugs as administered by some bizarre rabbit creatures is not something you do when you're all right, but he makes the executive decision to err on the side of politeness anyway. ]

b. night parade.

i. decorating.

[ Assisting with the parade seems like an easy way of currying favour with his superiors and to at least put on the pretense of helping out, so Kim gladly accepts the task of hanging up the decorations. He'll be around to help hold ladders, move boxes from point A to point B, or toss a bottle of water to one of his fellow assistants who looks as though they've failed to hydrate through any of their hard labour.

He does, however, become more invested in it than he specifically means to as he stands back, hands tucked neatly behind him, and scrutinizes one of the stalls' decorations, in a very interesting colour scheme. ]

No. I'm sorry, this needs to come down. These colours are... [ There is a polite way of putting this. ] ...very ugly.

ii. eyes needed.

[ Kim, having been deemed a very responsible looking man (probably because he's one of the older people here, he thinks with a sigh), has been tasked with sorting the fireworks and putting them in appropriate storage. Some need to be stored at certain temperatures to maintain the brilliance of their colours, and others need to be put under lock and key in a nearby storage unit because in the wrong hands, they have the capacity to do an awful lot of damage.

Which is fine. Kim is more than capable of handling this. Only he's supposed to be reading the criminally tiny fine print along the sides of the tubes. He holds them away from his face as far as possible in a desperate bid to translate it, but to no avail. He could rely on guesswork, but...

Reluctantly, he turns to one of his fellows, roped into helping with the parade as well. ] Can you make this out?

[ He's secretly hoping the answer is no, which is a possibility. It would be less embarrassing that way. ]
c. sutoku district & housing.

[ Otherwise, Kim can be found wandering around what he's been told is his new home, pausing occasionally to look at the huge, flashy arcades, the blindingly bright department stores, or perhaps dwelling a little too long on one of the vehicles parked along the side of the road. Shopping isn't the most exciting thing, perhaps, but Kim has plenty he needs to get with his first paycheck: groceries (largely frozen and canned foods, specialty-made for the consummate bachelor), a first-aid kit, cigarettes and toiletries, instant coffee, and a pitstop where he inspects a truly tragic looking pot of mint planted in ruinously dry soil.

By the end of the evening, he can be found on the balcony of the long line of depressing apartments that all of the newcomers have been put into, staring out at the night sky with a cigarette dangling from his fingers and a convenience store bag filled with premade food hanging off the crook of his elbow. He's willing to share, if interest is shown -- a cigarette for the adults, or a an extra onigiri for the kids. If he's going to eat a depressing late-night dinner standing out here, he may as well have some company. ]

d. wildcard.

[ want something else? I'd love to make a starter for you! just hit me up at my ooc comment here and we'll figure something out. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ A gaudy flash of pink is draped over the front of the stall, delicately handled by her hand. She places it just so, pats it as if it were living and breathing. Then, she admits to herself, wordlessly, that it is a hideous color.

It's burning her eyes to look at it too long, so Aerith quickly turns her attention to the rest of the box of decorations atop the stall. She'd placed it there for easy access, making sure to keep someone down below to help her keep everything nice and even. The majority of the fabric and decorations are still in the little wicker basket, but many are spilling over the edge in her attempt to make sense of the palette. She hasn't quite stuck to the plan, but in her defense, maybe it's not too bad now!

This particular stall is advertising wagashi, delicate little desserts with the barest hint of sweetness carved into pristine shapes. She'd been delighted when she saw them. A delicacy to her, the wares are beautiful. In a cruel twist of irony, the stall gives no such impression.

Aerith's hand grabs hold of pennant, a horrendously vibrant green with pops of neon red that makes her blink when she looks at it for more than a second. A headache is certainly building within her skull, louder than anything else she's felt today. Grimacing, she moves to hang it up like she's been instructed, when a voice interrupts her. It's "very ugly", comes the declaration.

She looks from the man, dressed in an equally snazzy jacket, to the stall. Aerith is stunned, if only because someone finally said it. It really is ugly. There is truly nothing hung up on this stall, or in that box, that could save this display. It's stomach churning in it's ugliness. Her silent surprise breaks as she lets out of a giggle, head shaking from side to side. ]

You know what? You read my mind. [ From her position atop the ladder, she holds on tight, and places one fist to her hip. She twists a little to look down at him, and a mischievous smirk splashes across her lips. Neon lights are at her back, and dying sunlight hiding their full vibrancy for now. ]

And since you brought it up, you'll be helping me get some new decorations.

[ She's beaming too wide in a toothy grin, as if she won't take no for an answer. Admittedly, it's how she got the ladder; a construction worker had been persuaded by her 'pretty please's and firm assertations that she needed it. ]

C'mon, I can't carry it all myself. [ She descends the ladder, surprisingly quick for someone in boots with a chunky heels. ]

I'm glad you agree. I didn't mean to offend, but these really ought to be burned.

[ He wasn't relishing the idea of having an argument over colour schemes of all things, but Kim has certain aesthetic sensibilities he abides by, and watching this horrible thing go up has been something of a blow to his pride. He doesn't want his name associated with anything like that.

He holds the ladder while Aerith descends, glancing down at those chunky heels (they're quite stylish, he considers, and not unlike something he'd choose to wear himself) and holds out one hand to help her down, should she choose to accept it. Once she's down, he's happy enough to follow her at a relatively sedate pace, hands tucked firmly behind his back, looking for the world like a man who'd been born and raised in these streets. ]

The shop owners will thank us when we're done. [ Or they'll cuss them out. Kim can't say he really cares. This is more about himself than it is for them. And for his new partner-in-crime, who must share his sensibilities; most of his fellow newcomers couldn't care less about doing the job well. Speaking of which: ] What is your name?

None taken! It's not my stall. We can burn them when we get back.

[ As the ladder steadies, she looks below to catch sight of leather gloves holding it in place, and fills in the rest. On her way down, one of those hands is offered to her. She stares it for a moment, then studies his expression. It's hard to read strangers, and certainly harder yet to do it without magical psychic abilities, but she gets the feeling this isn't done to belittle her.

She takes the hand, and finishes the descent by hopping off by the third lowest step. ] There we go. [ With the soles of her Kim Kitsuragi Approved ^(TM) boots on the ground, she is free to turn to him. A grin is in place, bright as any star in the night sky. ] Thank you!

[ Dusting herself off, Aerith takes stock of the area. Her brown hair is tousled from the wind, and she rans a hand through her bangs to better see the streets. Most of it is unfamiliar to her eye, but she can only see an opportunity to find out more about the city.

She takes to leading as naturally as a mother duck. She knows of a spot to visit, and inquire at, but getting there might be a little bit of a detour. Perhaps he'll know some place else— and he speaks, interrupting her thoughts. A noise leaves her, the sort of gasp someone makes when they realize they have to go back inside and find their keys. Aerith's suddenly caught off-guard, turning around to walk backwards. She feels like a spindle top, knocked over. Elmyra taught her better than this! ]

Aerith. I'm Aerith. [ Raising one of her thin brows, she gives him an impish little smirk. ] They might thank us, or they'll come to love our aesthetic sense. Either way, they'll just have to get used to it!

[ Of all things, it's the woman's chipperness that takes Kim aback. Perhaps it's just a symptom of living in Revachol for too long; there's a part of him that's immediately suspicious of anyone who's that friendly, but he quickly shakes it off. He's just spent too much time on the job, whether that's with the cranky old men he calls his colleagues or the people who are never particularly eager to see a police officer stroll down in their vicinity.

Besides, she's young. This sort of energy comes more easily before you've hit a certain age. ] Nice to meet you, Aerith. I'm -- [ the Lieutenant dies on his tongue ] -- Kim Kitsuragi.

[ He glances around the street, the rush of people (and creatures Kim would not ordinarily classify as people) sweeping by them, the bright neon lights, the bustling storefronts. It's not what he imagined Hell would look like, though he never imagined it at all. He glances back at Aerith. ]

We're doing it for their own good. I was told of a repository of decorations at our disposal somewhere. [ He removes his communicator from his jacket pocket, jabbing at it with his pointer finger to get to the map. It's terrible. He never got the hang of radiocomputers back home, and now they expect him to master using one he can carry in his pocket. ] I'm not sure where. It's my first week here, I'm afraid.

[ His eyes flick back up at her, wondering just how long she's been here as well. He hasn't spoken to many people yet, but it seems that he was among a relatively large influx of unlucky newcomers. ]

[ He wouldn't be the first, nor last, to view Aerith with a critical eye. By most people's measurement, she's got too much energy to burn, and enough secrets for at least two lifetimes. All the same, she grins and nods in acknowledgement when he introduces himself. ] Kim! It's really nice to actually meet you. [ Instead of just asking "is this straight?" over and over to him while half-heartedly hanging up some of the brightest garland she has ever seen.

A similar expression graces her face as she watches him; from the mention of the repository to the digital map on his communication device. Neither of these things net her approval. In fact, Aerith shakes her head vigorously, her long, brown braid swaying widely as she does. ]

We don't need either of those things. The map isn't that great, anyway! [ She hasn't used it once since getting here. ] It's easier to remember land marks, and meet people one your way to where you have to go.

[ A beat. ]

Kim, do you think we'll find anything useful in the same place we got... that?

[ She tilts her head, pointing with her chin to the stall. It sticks out like a sore thumb, the poor ugly thing. ] The clan that hired me just happens to be working on the fabrics, so... Maybe we should take advantage!

[ Kim considers this. It would be easier to go where they were told. And he's certain they can find something of a better caliber than what they were saddled with. It would be the straightforward route, to do as he's told and not to question it too much, even if all he'd be questioning is decorations.

But he really doesn't have much reason to follow what the Alliance has instructed him to do by the letter. What does he owe them anyhow? So instead, having visibly made a decision, he shrugs and says, ] What the hell. Why not? It's not as though we're being paid for this anyway.

[ They're not on the clock, at least. And Kim would be lying if he said he wasn't curious to explore the rest of the city, all the better if he didn't have to do it alone. ]

Lead the way. [ Then, curiously: ] What clan were you assigned to?

[ A huff of a laugh passes her lips. ]

Tamamo. [ The way she says it, 'Tamamo' might a word to describe the weather. It just is— she's still not sure how she feels about it. It's like top-side Honeybee... ] Precise. The not getting paid thing, I mean. Why not have some fun with it? If we're going to help out, we should actually help, too!

[ Aerith hops over a split in the stone, passing by shops. Facing forward (finally), she waves over her shoulder. ] Soooo, what about you, Kim? You seem like a Sutoku kind of guy.

[ She's been too much time getting to know people in the other clans. She's starting to recognize the qualities Sutoku values. ]

[ Kim blinks at Aerith, surprised, and just now realizing that he's been somewhat neglectful in his task of collecting information. Of course there are trends with who was assigned to which clan. It only makes sense. And yet he had completely neglected to make a note of it, let alone try to figure out why they were assigned where they were. He'd been too caught up in the logical inconsistency of him and Harry being assigned to different clans when they were already colleagues - and colleagues that worked very well together, in his estimation - and neither of them being assigned to the Department of Enma when they were both extremely accomplished detectives. ]

You're right. I was assigned to Sutoku. [ He can't resist. He pulls his notebook out from his jacket pocket and scribbles down a little note, reminding himself to look into this further. ] How did you know? And what other trends have you observed? I had assumed it was left purely up to chance -- it didn't seem like the most logical assignment to me.

[ There is, he supposes, a perfectly reasonable explanation for Aerith's assignment, he supposes. She's a pretty, outgoing young woman, a natural fit for the sort of clan that deals largely in sex appeal, even if her charms are lost on Kim. It doesn't seem right that those traits would have her immediately shunted off to Tamamo, but this world is not so terribly different from Kim's own in that respect. ]

[ That's a fair question, and it comes with a long explanation mostly studded by names of people she's come to know. First, she offers him an airy response, in a tone someone might carry if they were trying to sweep something under the rug. ]

A lucky guess? [ Even as she says it, she knows it's probably not acceptable. She hums before continuing, trying to figure out how to explain it. She can't imagine it being particularly useful information: she has no way of proving it, after all. If anything, she wonders if she's wasting Kim's time.

Then again, no harm if she's wrong, right? She hears the scribbling of a pen against paper as she speaks. ]

Shuten guys... they're bigger. In a lot of ways! [ Brawn foreword— people who have powerful bodies and designs to use it for themselves, whatever that might be. She wouldn't categorize it as a selfishness, necessarily. There's room for expansion... and moreover, room for whatever their clan head's orders would be. ] And the Enma guys? Maybe... it's loyalty that defines them? [ She thinks of Six in particular, who throws a wrench in much of her other observations about the Department of Enma, and plucks out a defining trait of his she's noticed time and time again. His loyalty just isn't to the law or right and wrong, like other Enma-ites she's met. A thoughtful grunt leaves her, and Aerith cants her head.

Kim is, clearly, neither of these. Helpful, willing to play along with her, with a patient voice: he doesn't suit either of those clans, in her mind. ]

But my friends in Sutoku... [ Hm. She thinks of Emily, who had eagerly gone with Aerith when she'd asked her to. It's not trusting, necessarily. Perhaps it's merely a coincidence. But, Emily's defining trait is that she'll work till her hands bleed before letting someone else do the work. ]

They work hard and like to do it themselves. And it's usually for the benefit of someone else. [ She looks back at him over her shoulder, brown bangs just barely obscuring her green eyes. ] But I guess that's more like process of elimination. Was it good for your notes, though?

Ah -- I hope you don't mind my taking notes. I just think it's best for us to get a handle on how this place works, [ Kim says, nodding down at his notebook. It's not quite an apology, but he knows that notetaking can make others uncomfortable. He does it for that precise reason fairly often, though not in this specific case, and he wouldn't want to make Aerith feel unnecessarily scrutinized. ]

But I wouldn't be so quick to ascribe such altruistic motivations to me. [ She's given him a rather flattering description, even if she achieved it largely through the process of elimination. He smiles at her, then, a blink-and-you'll-miss it expression. ] My aversion to those decorations is purely selfish in nature. My eyesight is poor enough without taking on additional damage from someone else's poor design choices.

[ He shuts his notebook and puts it back into his pocket. Information for information, he decides. ]

Those are some interesting observations you've made, though. I'm with the police back home. My partner was brought here at the same time as I was, and neither of us were assigned to Enma. I had no particular desire to work for law enforcement here, but I did think it was odd.

[ They've already got the experience and the skillsets. It hadn't made any sense that they weren't. But if they were looking for other traits within them, things inherent to them rather than their career choices? It makes a little more sense. ]

[ There isn't something like aversion bubbling up inside of her when she realizes he takes notes. Secretly, it's some kind of melancholic nostalgia. Something like reflecting on the time you scrapped your knees on the playground— the last time someone took notes around her, she was stuck in a tower, so to speak. Aerith shakes her head, no, she doesn't mind. It is not, truthfully, a lie.

What does catch her off guard is how quickly he reminds her of his own selfish gain in replacing the decorations they'd been given. Truth, she thinks with a soft shrug, but she doesn't admit out loud that the decorations aren't what gives her that impression. Perhaps it's best to keep some observations to herself. ]

Really? [ She twists to look him up and down, paying close attention to any pockets. She's half-expecting to see a gun on him, now, knowing that he's part of the police force. Her curiosity is itching to be sated, but instead she just looks back up at him. The back end of Tamamo territory isn't too far from here, and she takes a rather empty detour where a few forgotten, dilapidated buildings line the streets. They've already been bought up, with business holder names stamped on signs serving as promises for the future. ]

Who's your partner? I'll keep an eye out for him. I think, however... [ Hmm. ] Well, where I'm from, it's called the Public Security Forces, and there's different divisions. Everyone joins up for their own reasons. What was your's?

[ See, that might be the difference— and maybe that's why Kim's ended up in Sutoku, and not Enma. ]

Harry Du Bois. He's... [ He does not want to be cruel to his poor partner. He likes him quite a bit, actually, and thinks very highly of him. He also feels that it would be a terrible dereliction of duty for him to give off the impression that he's as stable as Kim is. ] ...something of an eccentric but rest assured he's a very capable detective.

[ He'll let her fill in the blanks there. He does, however, look a little surprised at Aerith's next question. ]

Why did I join? I don't think anyone's asked me that before. [ Hands clasped safely at the small of his back, Kim subtly casts his gaze to the sky, considering how to answer. There are many reasons he could cite, and they would all be correct. That he was a young man trapped in a series of dead-end jobs, hungry for a career. That he'd consumed a perhaps unwise amount of Vespertine cop radio dramas in his late teens, mainly because of their spirited use of car chases and their subsequent crashes. ]

The police force where I am from, the RCM, was established when I was a teenager, [ he explains instead. ] Before then, things were not good -- very violent, very unstable. When the RCM came around, things got better.

[ Now that Kim's an adult, he can see that that was not necessarily because of the RCM, though he likes to hold onto the thought that it did some good; it's because of economic prosperity and foreign interests, because of the fact that the old radicals were dying off, because of the fact that further civil war was untenable. But a young Kim had thought it was a good thing, that when somebody found a dead body, at least there was someone whose job it was to take it away. ]

In light of that, joining the RCM seemed as good a career goal as any. What is it that you do?

[ She'd whistle if she could. That's a lot of information, useful stuff to know about another person. Kim paints the image of a world in turmoil, developing ways to survive as it struggles passionately for life. She's charmed, immediately, and quietly wonders if that's what appealed to him, too, about RCM. ]

You really don't want to be taken for altruistic, do you? [ Accompanied with a light laugh, she moves to cant her head towards him in acknowledgement. Or understanding, perhaps. In truth, he strikes her as someone who prefer to sweep anything that might narrow him down under the rug. He isn't entirely unknowable, though. She just listens. ]

They should ask you, though. I don't think I've ever heard that one before. [ Who knows how many police officers she's "met" in her lifetime, though? Kim is definitely one of the more interesting ones. ] Part of our public forces are only a little bit older than me, actually. SOLDIER. [ The military— no, the war heroes. Some of them have government sanctioned fan clubs. Extremely successful propaganda, really. ]

Me, well... Here, I guess I'm a delivery girl. [ Tamamo lacks in jobs, and only has pockets of work that aren't in brothels, or clubs. Not all of it is inherently sex work, of course, though much of it definitely deals in pleasure. Her tone droops, expression falling into something more carefully considerate. This topic has been weighing on her, truthfully, and shockingly, no one else has asked her what she's doing. ] I think it's only working right now because the clans are collaborating for the parade, though.

[ Mild harassment has come with the job. Perhaps he already knows about it. ]

And back home in Midgar, I was a florist. We lived under the plate, so... it was hard to grow flowers. The way people's faces lit up when I made them bouquets or arrangements... Sometimes, all you need is a little symbol of hope.

I don't want to be given false credit, [ Kim corrects her, though his tone is light; though it's an entirely genuine sentiment, he's not that serious about it. He listens to her speak with rapt attention, quietly digesting everything she has to say. A young police force - public force, she says - is something he knows is unstable from personal experience. He also knows from personal experience that most people distrust cops, and generally for good reason. He wonders if it's the same for her, though he's unwilling to outright ask, or even begin to converse with a total stranger about such things. He can't help but wonder, though.

He gives her an encouraging sort of nod. ] That sounds like a good job. Plant life can be a great boost to the spirits. Especially if you live in urban areas without much natural greenery to be had. Picking up a plant was one of the first things I did when I got here.

[ He pauses, a little embarrassed by his own enthusiasm. It's true, though. He's always had affection for his houseplants back home and while nurturing that little sprig of mint back to life is a silly thing to waste his time on, in such a frightening and unpredictable place, it's given him some reliable pleasure to watch it perk back up. It's a little unbecoming, though. ]

Khm. Perhaps you could pursue something similar here? I imagine even the venues in Tamamo District could use some plant life. Though what was that you mentioned -- under the plate?

Aww, Kim, you like to garden? [ Understandably, this delights her. Aside from being a florist, there's just something about people that care for plants that she attaches to. It must be the way they care for something else's life for no reason other than to watch it grow. There's a benefit to it, sure, but that's rarely the interest, she's noticed.

Aerith bites her tongue, picking up on the energy of embarrassment easily: She wants to ask, but baby steps. ] Oh, the plate... yeah, you wouldn't know about that, huh. [ Melancholy tints her voice, nostalgia taking over as she looks skyward. There isn't a cloud in the sky. Does it rain in Hell, anyway? ]

Right. There's the slums, and topside. Topside is pretty much what it sounds like. The city is over the slums— so... Under the plate. It's a steel plate that separates topside from the slums. Not very interesting, is it? But that's Midgar.

No, no, nothing like that. Just a couple of houseplants.

[ To have a garden would be a luxury -- and one Kim doesn't have time for. But he's quite fond of the ones he actually has the time for. One had been a housewarming gift from when he was young and moving into his own place for the first time, and while the friendship around it had died, the plant still hasn't. It's silly, but it makes him a little sad to have left it behind. He hopes someone's watering it.

The way she describes her home, however, is... troubling. When Kim had thought about a place without much in the way of vegetation, he was considering his own home, blocks of square concrete and asphalt, an area too centralized to the city to have natural greenery and too financially depressed for anyone to bother making artificial installments beyond a pathetic little park or two. But they have fresh air (well, for a given value of fresh) and sunlight. ]

You mean to say that the poor have been displaced to live underground? [ That must take incredible technology. And incredible poverty. The two tend to coexist. He tries to imagine it. ] Or... was Topside simply built on top of the already existing city?

[ Thinking on it, she's not surprised he guesses right both times. There's a great deal the pair have in common, she's realizing, and when she comes to stand outside a small shop with decadent looking dresses on display in it's windows, she wonders if Kim has the same problem she has in Tamamo. It's a land that wears it's opulence like you might wear layers in the winter. A desperate necessity. ]

Yeah. Uh, to both. [ She clarifies quickly. ] The slums used to be their own city with neighborhoods and suburbs, everything that you need to make up a city. Y'know, the works. When Shinra decided to build around the reactors, they just... decided to do it over us. People who could afford it went topside, and everyone else... [ They were too poor. They had to stay behind, with all the junk from up top. Beneath the steel boat of Shinra. ] There's people who have gone their whole lives without ever seeing the open sky.

[ Children, mostly. She thinks of Marlene, who must have spent her entire life under the steel sky. ]

Well, we get by. [ Fingers lacing together in front of her, the smile she wears is empathetic. ] I bet you already guessed all that, though. We're here, at least. Sorry for talking so much, my mom calls her little chatterbox!

[ Kim shakes his head. ] You don't need to apologize just for talking. [ She's not the first young lady that he's said that to since his arrival, and he suspects that she won't be the last. To apologize, or to feel as though he should, for talking too much is an impulse he's tried to curb in himself, and isn't one he relishes in seeing in others. It's certainly no coincidence that both of the people who have done that to him are young women, he thinks. ] I asked a question with a complicated answer, and you answered it.

[ He glances beside her at the store window she stopped beside, the insides as ostentatious as Kim could imagine, beautiful fabrics and velvet seats on display. He's used to not having money in a way that means that he pinches his pennies, or cannot afford the things that he covets, but not to the extent that he would ever worry about the danger of the sky itself being ripped from his grasp. ]

That sounds like a difficult way of life, [ he says, instead of the far more colourful things he could say. ] And dangerous, for all of you.

[ Physical and mental. It shouldn't be allowed to build above an extant city. Who's to say that that same poor regulation wouldn't lead to the whole thing simply falling upon the people below? ]

Some people -- but not you, I take it? You watched this happen?

[ That's an astute observation, she'd think, if Aerith hadn't spent the earlier years of her life in captivity. She looks at him with a placid sort of smile, the kind you offer someone when the topic at hand is near impossible to answer even in the most polite of company. ]

Mm-mm. Well, sort of. [ Looking back at the window, she sees the expensive fabrics and sighs softly. ] I was adopted. [ That's the best way to put it, she thinks. It's not a lie, either. ] So, my memory of the place past around seven years old isn't too reliable, but it was also already happening when I got to Sector 5. That's the thing about places like Topside, though. They have the money to constantly expand. I don't think there's ever been anything new in the slums. New faces, new adventures, but never new buildings.

If you mean the sky... We're lucky in Sector 5 and get natural sunlight. It's more than other sectors get. Plus, we're still standing. If Shinra ever decides to drop the plate, well. They just can.

[ A puff of air passes from her. Not quite a laugh or a huff of agitation. The topic is fresh— she'd just seen Sector 7 demolished, and a whirlwind of emotion swims in her green eyes. None of it looks good. ]

Well, as true as it is, the best thing we can do is look to tomorrow. Sorta like how... we don't have till tomorrow to convince this sweet stand owner that we have better taste than them.

[ They do, though. ]

[ When people hear of adoption - and the temporary parentless past it implies - they usually apologize. It's to make themselves feel better, Kim has always thought. Why make their discomfort the others' burden? An orphan himself, he merely nods. If she was adopted by kind people, which is never a guarantee, then it's a blessing. Whatever her past, he doubts it's pleasant for her to speak of. If her words didn't betray it, her bearing would, that determinedly sunny disposition dimming, though it doesn't vanish entirely.

She has a good point about how only the wealthy can afford to expand. He's never thought about it quite that way even though he's lived it, dwelling among the only expansion the wealthy had chosen to do in the GRIH: blocks of warehouses and industry in a line of enormous concrete buildings, interspersed with the places where people actually lived, many still marred by artillery fire and bombs, streets pockmarked by potholes. ] You have a good point there. On both points. You deal with what is in front of you, even if it's difficult -- and I am sorry that your situation is so difficult.

[ It's less looking towards tomorrow, more getting through the day, but he likes to think the sentiment remains. Expressing his condolences only seems right, considering the life-or-death scenario she has painted; he dislikes emotional discussion, but he's not so monstrous as to ignore everything she said completely. ]

I'm sure that's the only way anyone has managed to get through their first days here. [ His eyes flit over to the street ahead of them. It seems she's slowing enough that they'll get to her source in no time. ] Shall we?

[ The fact he makes no mention of her status as someone who has been adopted crosses her mind as a small blip, and Aerith only wonders if there's something more he could say, but chooses not to. Kim is someone who seems like he says more if you pay attention to what he doesn't say— a specific kind of person that she's quite used to, these days. ]

I've had the chance to leave before. I'm lucky, I have that choice. [ A thoughtful little hum leaves her as she looks over to the great, big, open sky. Warm as the sun is, it'll never be the little rays of light that peeked into Sector 5. ] But, all the same... Thanks, anyway. [ Sincerity is laced into her tone. ]

Actually, good timing. We're here. [ Opening a smaller door, she makes her way into a dark hallway with a set of stairs going down. ]

Not afraid of spiders, are you?

[ A choice that she hasn't taken, then? Curious. Kim feels somehow that he's managed to learn a great deal about Aerith in a single conversation, though of course, he has learned only what she's chosen to divulge. Whatever her motivations, he feels he can understand. Home is home, no matter how unfortunate it may look to an outsider.

He peers into the hallway. More specifically, he squints into the hallway. He's more afraid of the dark than of spiders, he thinks, but that's just because he can't see a goddamn thing. ]

I'd prefer that they don't drop on top of me, but I'm not scared of them, no. [ He lets her lead the way as usual, gloved hand skimming down the wall until he grasps onto the handrail. ] What is this place, anyway?

[ The guardrail is ignored on her part, as Aerith hops down two steps of stairs and then begins a light jog down the rest. She's familiar with the place, sure, but more than that, she's just eager to jump into it. ]

A dress shop, if you can believe it! But she has really nice fabrics and sells those mostly. Right now, I think I could net us some good prices. [ Twisting at the hip a little, she beams. ]

Dropping is very unbecoming, anyway.

[ Ahem. When she swings open the door at the bottom, a flood of light fills the hallway. It's old, dirty, and beaten up, with a hole high up in the ceiling. Exposed foundation is crumbling, but inside...

Is a giant spider-woman, with many, many eyes. Within her claws is a glimmering pale pink fabric, layered over a sheer yard of a spring green netted fabric, and she looks toward the pair with a narrowed gaze. "I told you to knock," she says, and Aerith shrugs before gesturing out toward the shop. It's not particularly large, but well-lit with walls lined up with yards and yards of fabric rolls of all sorts of colors and sorts.

A few mannequins are there, of course. What's on them is hardly of interest to Aerith, though. ]

Well, Mr. Kitsuragi, here it is. Koganegumo's treasure trove. Anything you could want, in any color you can imagine is your's... for a price.

[ She'll put it on her tab. It's fine. ] What're you feeling?

[ Even Kim's legendary composure is occasionally tested and this is decidedly one of those times. He's not sure what he was expecting - for the warehouse to be completely empty? - but though he's grown more accustomed to the demons that walk among them than he had been on his first day, the sight of the spider-woman's glittering eyes darting around and landing on the two of them is enough to make his heart leap in his chest, not quite able to completely smother the cry rising in his throat as his hand instinctively darts to his holster. He's fine with little spiders. This? This is a thing out of his worst nightmares, like some Wirral creature he'd describe with relish come to horrible life, like the fantastical childhood stories he'd read under his covers, gleefully shivering at every horrible word.

He forces himself to relax - or at least look like he's relaxing - one muscle at a time, though he does spare a moment to give Aerith a particularly injured look, because he really would have liked a little more warning than that. Still, the hairs rising on the back of his neck and the way his exposed forearms pebble with goosebumps speak for themselves. Quickly, he bobs his head in greeting, deferring to good etiquette, as he always does when uncomfortable. It could be pointed out that he always has good etiquette, though, which is -- well, it is what it is. ]

Good evening, madam. We won't be long.

[ With every bit of willpower he has, he wrenches his eyes away from the spider-woman (god, he can see every hair on every one of her many legs like this) and towards the fabric, rubbing one hand across the back of his neck as though flicking away an imaginary house spider that had settled there. ]

Ah... pastels, perhaps? To go with the sweets.

[ To be honest, Aerith thinks he's adorable like this. It's a little like bothering one of her mother's former co-workers, who handled the construction business much more like a mob family than anything. While Kogane gives them both a once over (and seems much more interested in Kim—), Aerith hums politely. A swath of pastels are unrolled towards them with a skittering sound; the spider-woman's unraveled several yards for their ease. A light yellow catches Aerith's eye, the little rainbow glitters reflecting back strongly despite how small they are.

She watches Kim out of the corner of her eye for a moment. As for the business' proprietor, she disappears into the back, mumbling something about how she'll be behind the counter. Thankfully, it's several feet away from the duo. ]

Sorry. [ Eventually, she offers him that, softly. She hopes the youkai does not hear them. ] You said you weren't bothered by spiders, right? But, to tell you the truth, even I got a little scared at first. But she's nice. Really, she is, I promise. Best prices around, too!

[ A beat. ]

Best seamstress in town, too, I think... You know, I bet she would make you something special for the parade if you ask?

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aceslow - 2022-04-24 01:45 (UTC) - Expand

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[ OPEN ] sunrise, sunset

b, i. decorating

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