Takeshi Kovacs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
resleeves) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
reverielogs2018-06-22 11:02 am
resleeves) wrote in reverielogs2018-06-22 11:02 am
i hear the voices getting louder
» WHO? takeshi kovacs + ota
» WHEN? throughout the weekend and next week
» WHERE? chapel, fitness area, bar, and various others
» WHAT? causing trouble
» WARNINGS? language but nothing else as of yet
[ he's not here to pray.
he's not here to do anything but sit in the quiet and think. it's been a few weeks since the arrival of the backpack (which sits on the bench beside him) and he'd thought, for a few hours, that maybe more things would arrive. maybe a gun or an oni or fuck, he'd take ortega herself showing up. but nothing else familiar arrives.
he's even started seeing less of quell. she's still there when he sleeps but the glimpses of her he used to catch from the corner of his eyes are happening less and less. he's not sure if that means his fragged mind is healing or getting worse.
maybe it seems she's alive somewhere. yeah right, what a fucking miracle that would be. he'd seen her explode and he'd probably walked on the ashes that had been her body as he'd tried to get off harlan's world.
while he's alone, he reads a few of the quotes off the wall and then reaches into the backpack to physically throw garbage at the ones he doesn't like (which is all of them). he knew that some of this shit would come in handy and making a mess was juvenile but he had fuck all else to do.
it wasn't like anyone would notice. this place was a mess anyway. ]
Well, this is just fucking boring.
[ ever since the new sleeve, he's never really done a lot of solo training. quell's training two sleeves ago had stuck and from then on, a life spent being hunted and taking out those he'd been paid to kill had left him in decent enough shape.
then, there had been the life sentence and over two centuries spent on ice doing absolutely nothing. ryker's death had left a physically capable sleeve behind even if it was a sleeve that she had a fucking attachment to, unbeknownst to him until he'd been wearing the sleeve for awhile.
he drops the backpack on the ground and circles the room, staring down at the pool and making a face. didn't look like any place he wanted to take a swim in. plenty of people had probably pissed in that.
these facilities were a long way from even carnage's shitty little spectacle. at least he'd had a cheering section and some competition. ]
Ain't none of that here.
[ of course he'd think that. of course. ]
[ even kovacs could tell the alcohol was running low. he kept expecting to stop in (during one of his daily walks through the station) and see more of it. but, that hadn't happened yet. bottles were half empty, knocked over and collecting dust.
kovacs spends some time behind the bar, remembering the one time he'd had a bartender who made some decent drinks before she'd up and disappeared. lucky fucker. if she wasn't here, she had to be somewhere better.
and yet, he's still here, stuck. one of the bottles he picks up and brings up to sniff is filled with something so strong that it burns the lining of his nose and actually makes him blink. ]
Smells like fuel.
[ which meant it was fucking perfect.
kovacs made his way over to one of the booths and laid down, long legs dangling over the side. the backpack was placed on his stomach and the bottle on the table. he stared up at the ceiling, wondering how plausible it would be to just kick his way out of this place.
answer: not plausible at all.
where was poe and his arsenal when you really needed him? ]
[ got something else in mind? feel free to make it happen. hit me up at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
spoonishly to plot! ]
» WHEN? throughout the weekend and next week
» WHERE? chapel, fitness area, bar, and various others
» WHAT? causing trouble
» WARNINGS? language but nothing else as of yet
001. chapel
[ he's not here to pray.
he's not here to do anything but sit in the quiet and think. it's been a few weeks since the arrival of the backpack (which sits on the bench beside him) and he'd thought, for a few hours, that maybe more things would arrive. maybe a gun or an oni or fuck, he'd take ortega herself showing up. but nothing else familiar arrives.
he's even started seeing less of quell. she's still there when he sleeps but the glimpses of her he used to catch from the corner of his eyes are happening less and less. he's not sure if that means his fragged mind is healing or getting worse.
maybe it seems she's alive somewhere. yeah right, what a fucking miracle that would be. he'd seen her explode and he'd probably walked on the ashes that had been her body as he'd tried to get off harlan's world.
while he's alone, he reads a few of the quotes off the wall and then reaches into the backpack to physically throw garbage at the ones he doesn't like (which is all of them). he knew that some of this shit would come in handy and making a mess was juvenile but he had fuck all else to do.
it wasn't like anyone would notice. this place was a mess anyway. ]
002. fitness area
Well, this is just fucking boring.
[ ever since the new sleeve, he's never really done a lot of solo training. quell's training two sleeves ago had stuck and from then on, a life spent being hunted and taking out those he'd been paid to kill had left him in decent enough shape.
then, there had been the life sentence and over two centuries spent on ice doing absolutely nothing. ryker's death had left a physically capable sleeve behind even if it was a sleeve that she had a fucking attachment to, unbeknownst to him until he'd been wearing the sleeve for awhile.
he drops the backpack on the ground and circles the room, staring down at the pool and making a face. didn't look like any place he wanted to take a swim in. plenty of people had probably pissed in that.
these facilities were a long way from even carnage's shitty little spectacle. at least he'd had a cheering section and some competition. ]
Ain't none of that here.
[ of course he'd think that. of course. ]
003. bar
[ even kovacs could tell the alcohol was running low. he kept expecting to stop in (during one of his daily walks through the station) and see more of it. but, that hadn't happened yet. bottles were half empty, knocked over and collecting dust.
kovacs spends some time behind the bar, remembering the one time he'd had a bartender who made some decent drinks before she'd up and disappeared. lucky fucker. if she wasn't here, she had to be somewhere better.
and yet, he's still here, stuck. one of the bottles he picks up and brings up to sniff is filled with something so strong that it burns the lining of his nose and actually makes him blink. ]
Smells like fuel.
[ which meant it was fucking perfect.
kovacs made his way over to one of the booths and laid down, long legs dangling over the side. the backpack was placed on his stomach and the bottle on the table. he stared up at the ceiling, wondering how plausible it would be to just kick his way out of this place.
answer: not plausible at all.
where was poe and his arsenal when you really needed him? ]
004. wildcard
[ got something else in mind? feel free to make it happen. hit me up at
no subject
[Aymeric misunderstood Kovacs's question, of course. And he misunderstood the second question even more, not picking up on the patronizing tone of it.]
The guardian of Ishgard, Halone [pronounced Ha-low-nay] - daughter of Rhalgr.
no subject
[ had to go higher than his age after all or risk getting called grandpa. ]
Uh huh.
[ it was so tempting to just tell aymeric that he didn't care, that he didn't ask for details but they were already out there anyway. ]
She hot?
[ yep. ]
no subject
[Aymeric had noticed his speech was slightly different than some of the others here. They mostly spoke in a dialect he didn't recognize, and often used words he didn't understand, or slang he didn't pick up on.
Speaking of which...]
Hot? I...
[Aymeric's brows were knit in intense confusion. He very much did not know what this question meant, though in his best interpretation:]
She is known as the mover of glaciers, the deity of ice and war. I wouldn't say She is 'hot'.
i am so sorry for him, aymeric's really freaking patient lmfao
( in kovacs' mind, these were important distinctions that had to be discussed and talked about and known. but really, he was guessing this woman was just a hag. )
You don't wanna do a little more than pray to Her?
( sounded like he was quite attached, after all. )
HAH It's more like Aymeric has no idea what half this slang means; the patience has now run out oops
Had Kovacs seriously just asked if Aymeric wanted to have sexual relations with his own god??
Apalled, Aymeric got to his feet in disgust.]
What a sick joke!
[And he stormed off. If Kovacs' goal was to get the chapel all to himself, he'd finally managed it.]
Re: HAH It's more like Aymeric has no idea what half this slang means; the patience has now run out
that had done it. kovacs hadn't actually really been trying all that hard but apparently that had been the nerve to pluck and as aymeric storms off, kovacs can't help but snicker.
sometimes, this station could amuse him. rarely. but sometimes. )