animatedsmoke | (no subject)

(no subject)

Who: Ky Kiske, Potemkin
What: New York New York
When: AU (Carvaka + Fables/The Wolf Among Us)
Where: New York

After so much struggle and work to force change on the universe, to have it show some acknowledgement to their efforts or make the barest turn toward their survival, it was change that came on them instead. Like an interstellar probe finding a star among millions, without any foreshadowing or warning a single dimension made itself known to discovery, and that was the moment when the inhabitants of Between found a world that had survived the death of the universe. At last there was some place that didn't resist life to exist on it, or resent it. The planet was alive, populated, growing, and distinctively Earth. But it was still not their Earth, and one could feel the difference with every moment taken in it. It was palpable in the air breathed, the sunlight felt, the mood of the sky. That was before even including interacting with the inhabitants, who turned out to be separate down to the physical definition of humanity.

It's not what anyone wanted. It's not what anyone asked or wished or dreamed for. But it is new chance, a fresh start, and in its purity of experience it is unfamiliar to everyone, which is both terrifying and equalizing.

Ultimately the tantalizing possibilities outweigh the undesirables. No one could bring themselves to refuse the hand. After years of waiting, the confidence had been instilled that nothing better would come, and that this escape was truly the chance of a lifetime. With the deal made, now they must deal with it.

________________

Potemkin throws a bus schedule or four on the nearest flat surface in front of Ky, the folded paper making a slap on the speckled plastic table that is audible even among the incessant sound of traffic outside. Potemkin doesn't add any words to his offering, expecting that the noise will get Ky to look up from whatever he's doing, and makes his way to the refrigerator. He had gone through a bureaucratic ordeal today, and these pieces from a Take One bin are the most significant fruits of his labor. Potemkin has a deep well of patience, but he seeks to refill it when it's drunk from.

It would be a miracle if Potemkin could fit in any form of public transportation (that isn't airship), but as shown by his flippancy he didn't pick those up for himself. Ky Kiske looks normal, at least, he will be able to pick up work, and look through both Fable and Mundie employers to do it (and maybe even someday hold a political position in Fabletown). A job anywhere in this city means some sort of commute. As for Potemkin, who stood out even in the world he was born in, he'll figure it out on his own.

Not that he has all the time in the world to do that, rent comes in a month.

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Potemkin didn't bother sitting down to listen to Ky talk. The apartment is just how he had left it, with only a single late-night light on, making the living room dim and half in shadow. As Ky describes the incidents Potemkin easily connects the dots. The Fabletown police failed to show any effective response, and Ky could not keep in his outrage at people being afraid and helpless.

"So you ended up a target yourself?" Potemkin asks. He's concerned about the malevolence involved in that. As both of them realized early on in their life here, all the members of the community could have benefitted from helping each other's lives, but it seems some people will inevitably try to take advantage.

As Ky lifts his hands to his buttons Potemkin, who saw the tear in the shirt, realizes there must be an injury under it. Potemkin steps forward and reaches out with his hands, but then reins himself back.

"If I can see, I'll help tend that for you."

He glances over to Potemkin, takes a moment to consider the offer, and then nods. He drops his hands and, instead, pulls up the side of his shirt with the tear. There's a good-sized, dark scrape that stands out against his pale skin, starting just above his hip and ending as it curves toward his lower back. The location is inconvenient for self-care, but at least it isn't a life-threatening injury. In fact, he wouldn't have known it even existed if it weren't for the torn shirt.

"I didn't expect to be a target," he says as he keeps the fabric from blocking Potemkin's view, "and I don't believe my assailant expected it, either. I wasn't injured like the others — their wounds were deeper and required more time to heal, even for a Fable. Mine are light in comparison.

"Neither of us expected a fight," he continues. This is just his theory, of course, but it seemed to make sense. "Our confrontation ended once I was thrown down the alleyway. I couldn't recover in time to give chase."

Because he was thrown right against a garbage bin. Ky's explanation also implies the enemy was large enough to throw him, which is a detail he's purposefully skipping over for the moment. Potemkin seems worried enough as it is.

Edited (grammar) 2017-01-27 10:43 (UTC)

Potemkin asked out of politeness. As soon as Ky gives the go ahead it's apparent how hard it was to not fuss over his injuries earlier. He zooms in to be right next to Ky, taking a very close look at his body. Potemkin makes a face at the perpetrator's cowardice, though it was a smart move. By not engaging him Ky is left without a lead or a face to go from.

"It's a surface wound, but it's large enough I don't want it uncovered," Potemkin says while straightening up. Potemkin would have dragged Ky to check in a Mundie ER if that were anywhere near possible, but they'll have to rely on what's lying around the household. He makes a quick departure, coming back with a antiseptic and a bandage.

Ky would have definitely protested a visit to the hospital, no matter what kind. He didn't even think a bandage was really necessary, but Potemkin is already dashing out to grab the items. While he's out, Ky decides to unbutton and remove his shirt just out of convenience. He's going to end up taking it off later anyway (since there's little use wearing a ripped shirt), he might as well do it now if Potemkin is going to go this far.

When the other man returns, he glances at the antiseptic in Potemkin's hand and makes a face. Must they?

Potemkin stonewalls Ky's wordless plea. "Dirtiness could turn into infection," he says like he's forcing Ky to eat his vegetables or brush his teeth.

He takes the towel Ky was using earlier, and dampens a clean end of it with the contents of the bottle. With the towel in hand he leans in to apply it on the scrape, from the bump of Ky's hip to the curve of his side. Potemkin is suddenly thankful he had been so dutiful at keeping the glamor on. Potemkin is completely capable of any of these actions in his real body, but the size difference would have made this feel more like making a splint for a baby bird. This way he feels much closer to Ky. It makes treating him more comfortable, but it also starts to invite thoughts. Although Potemkin never touches Ky's skin with his hands, in good medical practice, he can feel the arcs of his body underneath the towel while cleaning him. It occurs to Potemkin that for all he admitted, he never told Ky how elegant he finds him. The first time to do such a thing, if ever, will have to wait.

Potemkin is right. Ky knows Potemkin is right, but that doesn't keep him from childishly ~~pouting~~ scowling at the prospect of doing this. He remains quiet as he tenses, bracing himself for the inevitable sting of disinfectant. His breath hitches for a moment, his hand gripping the edge of the sink to steady himself, as he's hit with burning pain. Well, now he's well aware of the injury.

Ky keeps his lips sealed shut, refraining from letting any sound of protest slip out. Potemkin's hands are gentle and caring; Ky could at least be gracious for the help, no matter how much it stings.

It's not a pleasant experience and Potemkin is aware of that, but he keeps a steady hand throughout it. He knows the reasons for doing this and it would be worse to panic in the middle.

When the entire wound has been covered, Potemkin moves to laying the bandage over it and getting the adhesive to stick. He smoothes out the cloth surface with a sweeping press of his hand, going across the length of it as it curves around Ky's body. "You're a model patient," Potemkin finally allows himself to talk. It's a stock compliment like what you would hear from a family doctor (or, more appropriately to Potemkin's experiences, a field medic).

"Only because your care is so gentle," Ky returns in praise. He can almost feel the concern as Potemkin's hand travels against his body. It's rather interesting, actually, knowing this hand belongs to Potemkin. Usually, the Zeppian's hand would have been too large to move anywhere. But now, Ky can feel the other man's palm as it rests against the bandage.

He smiles kindly and rests a hand of Potemkin's upper arm. "Thank you. I appreciate your help."

There's a brief moment of pause... and then, Ky ruins the moment.

"I will have to be more cautious tomorrow."

Potemkin is just starting to drop the focus he had maintained since starting this, so being touched comes as a shock to him. He holds his breath when he feels the weight of Ky's hand on his arm, and it's only now just registering that Ky took off his shirt this entire time.

Wait a second.

"...Tomorrow?" Potemkin asks while already furrowing his brow at the expected answer. He's planning on going straight back at the escaped suspect?

Edited (of/on typo) 2017-02-17 03:17 (UTC)

Ky nods, continuing as if he hadn't said anything alarming. Of course he's going to continue his investigation. This encounter has only encouraged him; clearly he's getting closer to learning more.

"Yes. I don't expect to meet the suspect in the same location again, but it's worth going back to check if anything was left behind."

Ky going on excitedly turns Potemkin's troubled look into a full glare - he's ignoring his worries already!?

But Potemkin would only be ineffectual if he tries to argue against investigating - he can't claim Ky is that injured, and sooner he can get back to the evidence the better. This sort of initiative to take charge would have been complimented by Potemkin if it had come from any other agent, especially if it came with such courage in the face of hostility, except he's in love with this one. Damn it.

Potemkin makes a dismissive shake of his head and looks to the floor, then speaks up from there. "...You're not going alone next time."

Ky looks over to Potemkin, seemingly surprised although he really shouldn't be. It's a remark that one would expect from someone so loyal. But Ky's mind is narrowly focused on this task, now. The possibility of having backup didn't even come to mind.

"Potemkin..." He almost wants to deter the man, but he really wouldn't mind someone else to help him. "Are you sure?"

"I'm certain."

After admitting that, it's as if a shadow that was hanging over him has lifted, and he doesn't seem nearly as down. He even seems to recover his strength and discipline at the idea of having a new operation.

"We can scout the area after sunrise."

Ky smiles. He's bolstered by Potemkin's support, confident that two heads will be better than one in this case.

"All right. After sunrise."

Potemkin is glad he could get Ky to sleep for a few hours, but they still leave early enough that the morning cold hasn't dissipated and dew is on the metal surfaces of the city. Potemkin walked out with a thick formless jacket for the chill.

Potemkin isn't going to drive himself mad with looking over his shoulder. He's assuming that the attacker already lost interest in this place, but he is acting discrete enough. There is absolutely suspicious about a tall (and nothing more) man poking at alleyway litter with his foot. He looks up to where it came from, tracking its path to some knocked over garbage cans.

"I'm guessing that's the site?"

"Yes."

Ky steps forward, moving towards the area where he was thrown. He's confident the suspect isn't here right now, leaving this place open for their investigation. There's no reason for his assailant to return — not at this hour, when no one else is here to become victims. Except for Ky and Potemkin, of course, but they aren't the typical 'victim' one would target.

"The suspect was large enough to lift me and toss me aside," he muses aloud. "A Fable, most likely, and one that might normally need a glamour during the day. What do you think?"

"Yes, it doesn't seem within a normal human to resort to thrashing, and be able to run away at the same time. Or what they would go for first," Potemkin thinks about mentality of the ordinary criminal and lowlife. His instinctive feeling is that their basic behaviors won't change regardless of what city they find themselves in, and launching at Ky with both arms seems too ambitious.

"It's as if they were more used to having more fearsome appendages, like claws." Or giant arms, Potemkin feels a sting of self-consciousness.

He nods in agreement. "My other concern is the simultaneous attacks," Ky adds. "Could we be investigating a group of individuals? I recall hearing reports of victims attacked in similar ways with identical wounds. A guild, perhaps?"

He looks to the ground, checking for prints or items that could have been dropped.

"Or is it magic?" Ky wonders. "This world's magic seems to be different from our own — it might not be a stretch of the imagination to think it could be magic-related."

"Moving with the same intent, at the same time, would be much easier if they are under one mind," Potemkin is quick to try and find explanations for seemingly impossible things. It would be an entirely different (and bigger) concern if there were an entire organization behind this.

"But what Fable lines up with this?" Potemkin stops looking at the alleyway around them to think. Potemkin is confident in his knowledge, he would have never been beyond a common soldier if he came to situations unprepared, but he has to admit some unfamiliarity in an Earth that may have different stories.

"I don't know," he admits. Ky looks over to Potemkin. "This pattern of attack doesn't match any Fable I'm aware of, but I will be the first to confess that I'm not well-studied in this kind of literature."

They both are likely at similar levels of knowledge, unfortunately. Hopefully, the Fable authorities will be able to find answers once he reports the assault to them. Well, he thinks hopefully, but he doesn't have very high faith in them at this time. Especially since things might become complicated if others continue to join the community.

"...another possibility that concerns me," he continues, "is what if the suspect is like us? Someone from a completely different world or reality?"

"That would be a problem in identification," Potemkin understates the issue, not willing to let go of any confidence in their ability just now. But truthfully Potemkin couldn't have guessed any of the other inhabitants of Between based on description. Many of them had been aliens from worlds Potemkin couldn't have imagined to exist.

"As heavy as it is to accuse anyone who also came from Between, if it comes to that then it must be pursued," Potemkin leaves on that grim note, facing Ky from his side of the alleyway. "The attacker probably did not act out their full modus operandi because you resisted, but are they known to take anything from victims?" Potemkin's mindset is to assume some kind of logical incentive for the culprit, but if they are avoiding attracting attention of the government, the reasons must be unsavory. At least no one is getting eaten.

"Not from what I've heard," Ky answers with a frown. "But I must admit that much of my information is secondhand. I could only interview a couple victims up until now."

If it was his job to do so, he'd have all the time to investigate the incidents properly. But that isn't the case, and his 'day job' takes up the majority of his hours. It's difficult enough to find out who the victims are and track them down for questioning. It's even harder when your only hours of availability are evenings or late nights. Hence why Ky decided to strike out on his own during midnight hours.

It isn't ideal, though, and his frustration could be seen in his expression. If only he had the resources....

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