Chikai Kuji (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
measuringdistance) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2020-06-03 11:17 am
measuringdistance) wrote in revivalproject2020-06-03 11:17 am
The cost of sentimentality
WHO: Chikai Kuji & Open
WHERE: Chikai's calibration room
WHAT: Who doesn't love strangers snooping around in your head?
WHEN: During the Calibration Event
WARNINGS: Potential depictions of violence, murder, torture, and mentions of suicide.
Those who wind up this small Japanese bedroom, the first thing they're likely to notice is the temperature. It's cold - not quite enough to make someone's breath fog, but more than enough to be uncomfortable. The longer you stand around, the more it seems to seep in, regardless of what anyone's wearing. The second thing is the smell. Those who have had soba before will recognize it, but even those who haven't may still find it comforting, in the way home-cooked food tends to be.
Yet that only puts it more at odds with the otherwise barren room. The walls have bits of green and yellow paper stuck to them, the remains of posters that have long been torn off. There's no other decorations, only a closet that will open if you give it a good tug. Inside is a purple jacket emblazoned with a seagull on the back, a metal ruler with a bandaged handle leaning against one of the inner walls, and a large duffel bag that's packed to the brim. Open it up, and you'll find a mess of money and clothes all stuffed inside haphazardly. The clothes themselves seem to be for a child, and the ones that stand out most are a soccer uniform and a heavy winter coat with a faux-fur lined hood. Dig deep enough, you'll also find a flute and soccer ball buried there under the paper and fabric.
The one piece of furniture is a low desk, which Chikai himself is sitting on top of. He's wearing sunglasses that make it hard to read his expression, though he seems to be looking out the nearby window. Not that there's much to look at; it's night out there, and the only thing in sight is a dark and empty alley. The desk has drawers, but you'll have to get him to move if you want to open any of them. Sitting beside him is a glass full of lollipops, all different flavors. There's enough in there they nearly look like a bouquet, and are easily the most colorful thing in the room. On the floor by his feet, there's a framed picture, though it's impossible to say of what. The glass itself is completely covered with what looks like black ink or paint. He seems to have no interest in picking it up.
WHERE: Chikai's calibration room
WHAT: Who doesn't love strangers snooping around in your head?
WHEN: During the Calibration Event
WARNINGS: Potential depictions of violence, murder, torture, and mentions of suicide.
Those who wind up this small Japanese bedroom, the first thing they're likely to notice is the temperature. It's cold - not quite enough to make someone's breath fog, but more than enough to be uncomfortable. The longer you stand around, the more it seems to seep in, regardless of what anyone's wearing. The second thing is the smell. Those who have had soba before will recognize it, but even those who haven't may still find it comforting, in the way home-cooked food tends to be.
Yet that only puts it more at odds with the otherwise barren room. The walls have bits of green and yellow paper stuck to them, the remains of posters that have long been torn off. There's no other decorations, only a closet that will open if you give it a good tug. Inside is a purple jacket emblazoned with a seagull on the back, a metal ruler with a bandaged handle leaning against one of the inner walls, and a large duffel bag that's packed to the brim. Open it up, and you'll find a mess of money and clothes all stuffed inside haphazardly. The clothes themselves seem to be for a child, and the ones that stand out most are a soccer uniform and a heavy winter coat with a faux-fur lined hood. Dig deep enough, you'll also find a flute and soccer ball buried there under the paper and fabric.
The one piece of furniture is a low desk, which Chikai himself is sitting on top of. He's wearing sunglasses that make it hard to read his expression, though he seems to be looking out the nearby window. Not that there's much to look at; it's night out there, and the only thing in sight is a dark and empty alley. The desk has drawers, but you'll have to get him to move if you want to open any of them. Sitting beside him is a glass full of lollipops, all different flavors. There's enough in there they nearly look like a bouquet, and are easily the most colorful thing in the room. On the floor by his feet, there's a framed picture, though it's impossible to say of what. The glass itself is completely covered with what looks like black ink or paint. He seems to have no interest in picking it up.
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"Maybe." A rather Gertrude way of looking at things. Jon opts to step closer to the closet after all. It takes a degree of effort to open it and what's inside only confirms Chikai's words. Anticipating yet another bloody outcome, he reaches to pick up the ruler.
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Another night, though a warm one this time, and no lights save for a dull street lamp that barely touches the alley. The men he's trying to fight are wearing the same purple jacket Chikai would in the tunnel - the same one hung in the closet now. And when they snap to attention at their boss's arrival, it's clearly the same man who Toi would later murder. The white coat is very distinctive.
When it fades this time, Chikai keeps a level temper. This guy's awfully nosy, but if it's a choice between him rummaging around in the drawer or the closet, the closet was easily the lesser of two evils. "It's actually a pretty handy tool, once you sharpen it," he says, walking closer to peer over Jon's shoulder at the ruler. "Prob'ly wasn't gonna do me any good that night, though."
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"I would hope you aren't planning on causing any trouble once this-- Once the storm has passed. We don't need that.
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So he'd been a stupid punk. Lots of teenagers were. He was an adult now, and as an adult, he didn't see any way he'd benefit by picking fights in a group this small... at least, not without a reason.
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"Do you have any memories stored away in your mental closet that don't involve violence?" It's a valid question he feels as he frowns down at the remaining contents of said piece of furniture.
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"Unless this place lets me go, I am stuck here anyway. So why don't you tell me about your brother?" That seems safe enough.
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For a moment, he pauses to eye the bits of paper on the wall, before admitting, "It's been a while since we've been able to spend much time together. Work got in the way, y'know? But that's all done with now. Soon as I get back, I'm gonna go get him." That his brother would still be waiting, no matter when that turned out to be, he had no doubt.
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"So what are your plans once you meet again?"
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With a laugh, he plops himself back onto the desk, just barely avoiding knocking over the glass. "'Course, I might have to twist a couple arms to get things back on track when this is over. But I'll work something out."
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His expression doesn't soften as the thought lingers, but it shifts a little. Settles into something calmer and almost serious. Bluntly, he adds, "No point thinking about things that can't happen. You just gotta play the hand you got."
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Jon shifts where he stands, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants while returning his eyes to Chikai. "But I hope you can make things work when you get back. For you and your brother." Preferably without putting either of them in danger.
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The way Jon reacted, it makes Chikai think he might have some personal experience with the feeling. Scars don't come from no where, after all. He doubted asking directly would get him very far, but he did think he was owed at least some personal info about the guy rooting around his memories. "How 'bout you? Anything you're planning to get back to?"
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The question has Jon look back at Chikai, however. And the Archivist frowns lightly and shakes his head. "I have given up on planning. Something terrible is going to happen and - again - no one will be prepared on how to deal with it." Just the usual.
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"Since it seems to be quite common among those brought here by the Agrii... Can I ask how your world stands in regards of the presence of magic, super heroes and space travel?" The memories give no indication for the presence of any of these and... Jon is curious.
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He waves his hand vaguely before taking another lollipop and spinning it back and forth in his fingers. "Just a plain, boring world where the only source of 'magic' is how much money you got. Kinda weird to think it's in the minority on that one."
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He gives a nod. "It may be better that way, Chikai. Most of the places represented here have remarkably dreadful problems to deal with."
Being able to lead a comparably boring life again? Now that's something Jon himself would readily sign up for.
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