[closed] i'm terrible at titles don't look at me

[fledges]

Who: Kate and various
Where: Old Town, probably!
When: End of week 4 through chapter 3-ish
Summary: This is just a catch all log for February. Feel free to hit me up if you want to do something!
Restrictions/Warnings: We'll... see lmfao

Comments

week 4 - itsuki

[fledges]

[Kate's still wiped from the last few weeks, but Old Town never stops being Old Town, so she's not at all surprised when she gets a text asking for help with a robbery. These aren't her favorite jobs in the world, because Westerley is such a mess there's always a middling chance Kate will actually get the stuff back, even with all of her connections, but she still can't ignore the gnawing urge to help.

So, she heads to the address she's given, decked out in purple and with her bow and quiver slung over her shoulder, as always. She slips her aviators up on top of her head before knocking, an impromptu shave and a haircut performance on his door. She doesn't at all give off the detective vibe, especially not with how short she is. Sorry, Itsuki.]

im finally here

[nightchild]

[with the company Itsuki keeps, he's long learned not to judge anyone by appearances. Besides, it's kind of like an Old Town tradition -- not owning clothes that suit the job -- so Itsuki can accept Kate the smol detective, easy!!]

[There's a muffled 'coming!' and a couple of seconds where Itsuki's probably looking through the peephole just in case it's someone who's Not Happy To See Him (which unfortunately happens often... the dangers of the job!!), but no, it's just Kate?? A smol detective. Who Itsuki actually doesn't know is the detective he asked for yet. But he opens the door anyway!! gj being cautious Itsuki]

Hey there, miss! [he casually leans against the doorframe like he's cool, embarrassing!!] Do you need help with something?

yesssss

[fledges]

[Super smooth. Kate tries and completely fails to hide an amused smirk.]

Kate Bishop, detective extraordinaire, at your service. You needed me to get your stuff back, right?

[nightchild]

[clearly the smoothest, so smooth that Itsuki straightens up in surprise and accidentally knocks his shoulder against the door.]

Oh... Huh.

[He is surprised, but most of that fades away for easy acceptance because who is he to judge people for wearing purple spandex when he has weird purple highlights in his hair?? Anyway, none of that matters now, because Kate is the cutest detective Itsuki's ever seen and his day's just gotten loads better. Despite. Getting his stuff taken.]

Right, right. Detective Bishop -- [He backs away from the door to finally let Kate in, spreading his arms out in a gesture akin to 'welcome' and 'i'm also unarmed and only 45% sketchy'] Honestly, I didn't expect you to come by so fast. But I guess I've heard good things about you for a reason.

[whether or not Kate comes in, she can probably get a pretty clear look of his place just from the door. It's a traditional bachelor pad, but also surprisingly sparse. And clean, for once. If there had been a robbery recently, then there are no signs of the usual wreckage and clutter that would follow one. SUSPICIOUS or maybe Itsuki's just a clean freak??]

week 4 - leo

[fledges]

[This whole AI thing has been driving Kate absolutely nuts, and she and Steinbeck don't have enough expertise to suss out whether or not it's legit. She doesn't know if an AI can go against it's programming, or protocols, or whatever. It would be so, so easy for someone from the Company—maybe even her dad—to send her an encrypted message and feed her whatever tech jargon they wanted to weasel information out of her, but she's not going to let herself be stupid. Leo is her best bet for figuring out what the hell's going on, but someone about just texting him makes her feel weird. Maybe Damian's paranoia is wearing off on her, but after all that talk about secured lines, she's on edge.

Luckily, she knows Leo's in town, so she shoots him a quick message telling him she's coming over, and then shows up without waiting for a response. It's not very polite, but she's jittery and impatient, which is why her knock ends up being more insistent than normal. When he answers, she'll be waiting outside, tapping her foot in an attempt to drain off some of that excess energy.]

Hey! You're not busy, right?

[slotted]

[ it's been tiring day after day since he arrived in westerley again. he's been helping out various people, giving food to those in need and the like. lots of charity work! and he was charging when he received a message from kate that she was coming over. which is why when she actually knocks on the door to his inn room, he looks... a bit dishevelled, and yet absolutely ecstatic at the same time.

the door opens with him wearing some kind of goofy smile, as if he was high. he's not, though. he just finished charging, and that usually ups his mood. ]

Straight to the point, aren't you? [ always with the sass. ] I'm not busy right now, no.

[ he then moves to give kate some space if she wants to enter. his room isn't messy, at least! ]

[fledges]

Good.

[The goofy smile is a welcome sign, and she grins back as she steps inside.]

I need to borrow your crazy brain for a little bit. I've got some questions about AIs, but if you make fun of me for asking something stupid, I'm never talking to you again.

[That's a complete lie. Kate is nothing if not dramatic.]

[slotted]

Technically, I wouldn't lose anything if— [ he stops himself there, reminding himself that she could beat him up no problem.

right. he should be nice. he decides to close the door and sit on the edge of the bed, instead. ]

What do you want to ask?

week 4 - shiro

[fledges]

[The city is starting to fall back into its usual rhythm, which means Kate is getting jobs again. It's easy to throw herself into her work like she always does, especially after how horribly the plague hit the city. Kate doesn't much want to think about it, so she focuses on helping people any way she can.

Today's case is pretty tame, by Old Town standards. Some poor girl thinks her ex-boyfriend broke into her apartment and stole a bunch of very important, very sentimental belongings, which is a jerk move on any planet. Moon. Whatever. So, Kate has spent a very unsuccessful few days talking to her usual contacts to see if anyone has tried to fence anything suspiciously personal. It's a no go, and Kate is running out of options. She's started to suspect the guy just held onto all of it, but she has no proof and no way of getting it back, and it's driving her nuts.

Of course she runs into Shiro while she loitering outside of her suspect's apartment. Kate is glaring at the front door as though it's offended her personally, hands on her hips, at least until she spots a very familiar head of white and black hair.]

Hey, Shiro!

[She's waving him over with a very determined look on her face, which means he should probably turn around and run.]

late, late, just jack me up fam

[stressors]

[ the usual rhythm's come quickly in the wake of an epidemic. which sounds like a dangerous sort of recovery at best when everyone looks harried and exhausted in the aftermath, after days of delirious fever, of unpaid overtime and burning the midnight oil. shiro tries not to let the fatigue get to him. they'd assigned him the menial task of transporting hordes of soldiers, shipping drugs and vaccines, but at least it's busy work. easy to allow the distraction; easy to acknowledge the losses on both sides without letting it affect his focus; easy to keep his patience while doing everything he can, regardless of how little the difference.

but the sickness comes and goes. the company touts their anti-resistance rhetoric with a renewed vigor, but nothing detonates. not yet. they throw shiro back into old town, and they seem to forget about him. he'd be grateful for it if he didn't honestly admit that these patrols were beginning to get, well, pretty old.

. . .

but then again. ]

I'm not sure I want to know.

[ it's -- humoring. almost. kate is, after all, a familiar figure. the resistance is not the most subtle movement, but they have their spies, and they've slipped successfully under the radar of most of the company's enforcers for the most part.

it's always been a little funny, a little like spitting into the faces of both parties. kate, with her bright pinks and her purples set against the drab brown of old town. and she's still nosing about in other people's business for a living, and she hasn't gotten caught. she's good at her job.

or, at least, shiro can hope ]

I'm not sure you want me to know.

[ he is, after all, technically on the clock. ]

WOW I'M ALSO LATE i'm sorry katsu made me so disorganized

[fledges]

[She grins at him, reaching out for his sleeve in an attempt to tug him over.]

Of course I do. You can be my look out while I pick this lock.

[It's flippant, as though of course she's going to pick the lock. That's a totally normal, reasonable direction to take this investigation, right?]

i got sick and still worked a 12x5, i would never have Survived to tag you back... sorry

[stressors]

[ that -- doesn't sound legal.

and unfortunately it takes a good, long look at kate's face to come to any sort of realization that she's serious, or not serious, or maybe a bit of column a and column b to be discussed in the interim. he hasn't known her for long. it's remarkably hard to read her smile.

and well, he's following -- or being dragged along, in any case. if she decides to do something Unfortunate, he's relatively confident that he can... stop... her...

. . . ]

Thanks. I'll pretend I didn't hear that.

Do you mind telling me what's going on first, before doing something drastic?

sometime early in chapter 2??? - nyx

[fledges]

[It's become habit for Kate to drop by Nyx's bar, even though sometimes she thinks she drives him a little nuts and even though she knows, technically, he could get in trouble for harboring rebels or... whatever. Whatever the Company is calling them now.

She tries to keep her less savory activities on the down low while she's around him, because as much as she wishes he'd just give up the Company and join them, she knows it isn't that easy, and she doesn't want him to get in trouble. Especially not because of her. Today, though, has been a day utterly devoid of rebelliousness, just an interrupted mugging gone wrong that's left her with an impressive bruise spreading over her temple and probably a concussion. Kate gets banged up with surprising frequency, so she isn't too concerned, but right now her apartment seems ridiculously far away and Nyx's bar isn't open just yet, so it seems like the obvious solution.

Kate knocks on the door, wondering how well her bangs are hiding that bruising (not well), and pipes up immediately before he has a chance to say anything.]

Hey. Don't freak out, I'm fine. I just wanted to hang out for a while, so you don't have to pull out the trauma kit or whatever.

shows up 80 years later

[servitor]

[He'd been spending the day in some sort of peaceable quiet, away from the Company, away from the riots. Just him and his music.

Music that gets interrupted by a knock on the door. He can't help but click his tongue, but he can't help but go to open the door too.

The only sign of surprise he shows are the widening of his eyes, the persistent question of what happened immediately dead on his lips before it could even make a noise.

He peers out, checks the street both ways, before moving out of the way for Kate to enter.]

I always have the trauma kit ready for you. Stick to the back seats, I'm not willing to see your head gone or your mug on the wall.

[Nyx isn't an idiot. He knows exactly what Kate gets up to, and what he does for her is probably the closest thing to outright defiance.]

<3

[fledges]

Okay, okay, boss, I get it.

[She says it half-flippantly, her tone vaguely annoyed, but it's all for show. She knows how much he does for her and how much risk he takes on just to help her, and she appreciates it, which is why she reaches out to give his hand a quick squeeze as she steps past him into the bar. Kate heads for one of the back tables as he asks, picking one tucked into a corner.]

You doing okay?

walks in a week later with starbucks, sighs

[reburden]

[ It's afternoon, a light rain - thankfully not acidic this time - drizzling down onto the rooftops of Old Town. Common enough weather around these parts, supposedly, though the weather patterns in Old Town are still new to him. Two years isn't nearly enough time to grow accustomed to any place, even if he's supposedly lived here all his life.

The bell above the door jingles and and in walks a young woman, looking...less than pretty, though still quite a bit more more attractive than the usual fare around these parts. (Not that such a thing's hard to accomplish when the majority of the customers that walk through the door are sixty, missing half their teeth, and have skin the texture of cracked leather.)

He straightens, expression easing into one of default politeness. ]

How can I help you?

[ (Does he know he's working in an apothecary and not modern day retail, it is a mystery.) ]

haha no worries!

[fledges]

Hi.

[Kate's banged up pretty bad, which means it's probably Tuesday. Usually, she'd go to Luna, but Luna has been so stressed out lately that Kate doesn't want to bother her, so here she is. She's got a few scrapes and bruises on her face, but nothing super serious. It's her wrist that's killing her—she thinks she might have sprained it, and she's got it wrapped tightly in a bandage to support it as much as possible.]

Um, so... What painkillers do you have that aren't super shady and won't knock me out for a month?

for steinbeck!

[fledges]

[It's a little weird, going on a date after everything that's happened, but Kate tells herself that there's nothing she can do at the moment, and sitting around her apartment uselessly is a waste of time. Besides, if she's honest with herself, she needs this, needs something normal to ground her. She's exhausted and sore and there's a nasty fading bruise on her jaw and a healing gash above her eyebrow, but Steinbeck has known her long enough to be used to her being in various states of healing. She has no idea where they're going, so she just throws on jeans and a purple jacket and waits, vibrating with useless energy.

Admittedly, she's distracted. She'll probably be distracted all night, but she's excited to see him, too. That might be why she gets up a bit too quickly when she hears him knock, all smiles when she opens the door. She can't remember the last time she was on an actual date.]

Hi.

[graftage]

[Steinbeck feels like he's floating.]

[Admittedly, he still was thinking that this might all just be a dream. It's too good to be true, really. He had asked out of the blue, thinking she might, at the very least, take it as another joke-in-the-form-of-a-flirt. Well, now he's here, and they're going on a date, and he couldn't be happier. She's a good friend, and he's head over heels for her.]

[When she answers the door, she'll find him not in his rather revealing Scarback robes, but in something far more casual and, well, normal, for once. Just a brown coat covering a collared shirt, complete with jeans and boots. He may be a man of faith, but it's hardly going to dictate how he dresses 24/7.]

[But his clothes shouldn't be the first thing that draws Kate's eyes. It's the bouquet of white, delicate flowers in his hands, a bouquet which he offers with a very wide, delighted smile.]

Hey. These are for you. [He winks.] Told you I'd surprise you, didn't I?

[fledges]

[Kate grins, taking the bouquet and stepping forward to kiss him on the cheek. She's going on a nice date with a nice boy, and she finds herself relaxing in a way she hasn't in days. In a few hours, they'll have to start worrying about what the Resistance will do with this mess, but for right now she can just pretend everything is normal.]

Consider me officially surprised. No robes on dates?

w5d6 - steinbeck and royce

[fledges]

[The city is still a mess, and Kate probably shouldn't be out in it, considering what happened yesterday, but she's too stubborn to stay home. Steinbeck is with her anyway, after all, so if she's not quick enough to defend herself, she trusts him to pick up the slack.

It's in one of the older marketplaces on the south side of the city that Kate spots a very familiar cloak, and she hesitates, mouth twisting slightly. She just keeps running into him, doesn't she?]

Duster?

[bywolves]

[ Why does he keep having to run into Kate, is his question.

Royce was really, really hoping she wouldn't see him - he's in the middle of trying to score himself some food and he knows she's going to call him out on it. He's in no mood at all. He's injured, exhausted, and he slept in an alleyway the night before, so he's not exactly feeling friendly.

When she says his name, the man behind the stall that Royce is walking next to startles and immediately gives Royce a harsh look, and Royce scowls, pulling his cloak closer to mask the fact that he was going to steal one of the fruits off said cart. Royce gives Kate and - whoever it is that's by her - a withering look and keeps moving into the crowd.

Sorry, he's going to be as difficult as possible. ]

week 6 - peace summit.

[ofobedience]

[He's bored. Restlessness jitters beneath his skin like the little legs of insects scurrying about and not for the first time, he laments that he's here, would rather be assigned anywhere else. There's still the possibility that something might happen, that something might go wrong and almost (almost) he hopes for it. Something he can get his teeth into despite the way the riots had gone, how it ended for him.

It can't be helped, he thinks. It's in his blood right down to the bones and rattles at the core of him, pushing him on towards inimical things.

But right now that's neither here nor there. Sui Feng has sent him off to quietly (subtly) patrol the parameters, more out of irritation for his ceaseless pacing than because it needs to be done. She's assigned another member of her squad as his Handler, of course, wouldn't leave him to wander around alone, and he's dressed with more subtlety than is usually called for, so as not to unnerve the guests-- it's a peace summit after all, and yes he's here playing guard dog, but overtly displaying what he is in front of the delegates at an already sensitive time would only cause undue concern.

The cruel metal band bolted down into his skin is obscured by a high-collared jacket, and the guns he carries are carefully concealed, but for someone who's come across him before, he should be recognisable enough. The white-blond hair, the startling red eyes, the hard angles of his jaw-- even like this, schooled into something carefully blank and passive, perhaps his is a face that's hard to miss.]

[fledges]

[Kate is much less bored. She's moving gingerly, make up expertly applied to hide the fading bruising on her face. Still, events like this are what she was raised for. Her father was taking her to galas and fundraiser events by the time she could walk, and it's easy enough to slip back into that role. There are people from Leith here—far too many, actually—who recognize her, and she spends quite a bit of time deflecting awkward questions and praying she doesn't see her father.

She doesn't expect to see the man who nearly killed her just two days ago. The difference is so stark it's disconcerting. Kate's steps stutter and then stop, and she stares at him for a long moment, trying to figure out how she should even deal with this. Is this some sort of joke? The Company has sent him here to... what? Guard? She can't get the image of him tearing into that poor man's throat out of her head, and it makes her skin crawl and the disconnect between then and the way he's standing at attention now throws her badly.

Kate is nothing if not brash and stubborn, though, so after the initial shock subsides, she heads for him with long, purposeful strides, and when she stops in front of him, she resists the urge to jab a finger into his chest.]

Not ripping anyone apart yet?

[ofobedience]

[He knows she's approaching before he sees her, before he hears those stuttering steps and she comes into view. He can hear her, smell her - a scent he thinks he recalls, all mixed up with the rawness of still-healing wounds - and when she stops to stare at him he stares back, head slightly canting to one side in a disconcertingly canine gesture, a small signifier of his inhumanity. There's something there, something almost familiar, though for the moment he can't quite place the where and when, can't tell whether she's perhaps Company or whether he's encountered her elsewhere.

And then she's striding towards him with a purpose and restrained anger that feels almost palpable, enough that it has the lines of his body turning harder, muscles jumping beneath the skin. That violence in him, it's still there, held in check, but ready and waiting to be unleashed at a moment's notice. Whoever she is, though, she appears to be - perhaps - a delegate of some kind, and he's been told that unless something significant occurs, should he encounter any of them he's to respond with subordinate politeness.

And so he only watches as she comes to a stop in front of him, remains unmoving and curious and almost (almost) wary. That she's angry with him is obvious, but for now he can't quite figure out why. Then she speaks, and the question, it catches him off-guard.]

...not yet, no.

[His voice, it's smooth and cool and almost soft, nothing like the grating animal laughter she'd experienced before, and his is a response that holds the implication that he might rip and tear and maim, should it come to it. It's something he perhaps ought not to have said, but confronted with it so plainly it's hard to respond any other way. It's true after all, it's what he does, even if in this moment he's here to protect-- but there's accusation in her tone, and infinitesimally his brows furrow as he tries, again, to place her.

It comes in a quick hot flash of colour and scent and noise, a stillshot image of her face underneath him filled up with fear and pain and the feel of his hands bearing down pressing hard, the crack of bones, that sweet ugly music--

--something in his face falters, just for a fraction of a moment, and when his voice comes again it's a little more tentative than he means it to be.]

...where you at the riots?