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+---- Thread: I swear I feel like a toilet bowl (/showthread.php?tid=11703)
I swear I feel like a toilet bowl - Kaisel - 07-10-2025
Here's the thing. Kaisel doesn't know how to make a kite. So while it had sounded very nice to tell Safrin he'd do this all just fine without her help, unless Caly wants to end up with something that a kindergartener proudly holds up after their art class, he decides he has to do a little bit of studying on the subject. He doesn't know a better place to do so than at the capital of kite-flying, and it's best house of studious things.
It's a weird feeling, stepping back home, without being able to call it that. It always will be, in a way, but it's different now. He's not coming back, he's just visiting. Although he's no tourist here, it's not like he has a familiar bed to sink into when he grows tired here. Well... technically, he does. His parents have returned, and his room still holds everything in it, which he might need to pack up soon, although that feels more final than he's willing to commit to. Better to just keep ignoring it and pretending it's all fine, like he doesn't need his little nightlight or the lumps in his pillow he's perfected over years.
He ruffles a hand through his hair and sighs loudly, turning the page and skimming all the words about binding, glancing at one of the in-depth drawings instead.
RE: I swear I feel like a toilet bowl - Zenith - 07-15-2025
It's strange to walk the streets of Stormbreak. The way things shook out with the Family had caught Zen off guard and after finding his footing with the help of a Halovian hunter, he'd elected to visit the region in the sky. The city is crowded, and after growing tired of the close quarters and noise, Zen sets his sights on the Archive, and the quiet calm it promises.
Pushing open the door, the Demi-god's brow furrows at the soft creak of wood. The juxtaposition of the bright noise on the street and the dim silence around him is enough to cause whiplash. There are a few people present but none that he recognizes. Shoulders relaxing, Zen closes the door and begins to walk the shelves; his eyes scanning the spines of each book with stoic curiosity. The array of knowledge at his fingertips is enticing and it's a book on historic battles that catches his eyes first.
Zen gently teases the tome free from the shelf and thumbs it open, eyes already scanning the words that are revealed.
RE: I swear I feel like a toilet bowl - Kaisel - 07-15-2025
He doesn't understand how people enjoy this. He truly doesn't. He just reads the same paragraph over and over, realizing that when he gets to the end of it he's somehow managed to spend the time reading it, but retained none of it. It's like the moment the second word sets in his thoughts drift, wondering about all manner of inane shit like how exactly they put sesame seeds onto buns and if there's an exact way to ensure they all spread evenly instead of bunch up. That makes him wonder what the fuck a sesame seed actually even is, and how people decided to start eating them (watched birds maybe, in which case, which birds?).
What's the difference between the long-legged birds and the stubby ones. Are they like cousins or more like second-cousins? Wait, what exactly even is a second-cousin? Is that what makes a great-uncle? He never met his great grandpa, but he's heard all these great things about him.
Oh, the paragraph is over. SHIT—AGAIN?
He can't do it. He can't read the paragraph about how to build the kite's frame for a fourth time. With a dramatic sigh he tilts back in his chair instead, finding the balancing point where he won't quite fall back and set the butterflies in his stomach swarming, and how far exactly he can push it when he hooks his toe against the table leg as a counterbalance and secure hold. In so doing he catches an upside-down glance at Zenith, who seems to be one of those readers with the way he's engrossed in some book, not even able to find a seat before he digs into the pages.
Just then the point of no return is passed and Kaisel falls back with a clatter and a windmill of limbs.
RE: I swear I feel like a toilet bowl - Zenith - 07-25-2025
Zen's eyes snap up at the sudden noise, watching as a stranger fall backwards with about as much grace as a squirrel that got its claws on a crab apple. Closing his book and tucking it under his arm, the Demi-god walks over. Looking down at the man with quirked brow, he scans him for injuries. Finding nothing apparent, the small glimmer of worry that had arisen eases, being replaced by amusement.
Above the Demi-god's head, blue and purple swirl into existence. The newborn stars cast colorful shadows on the bookshelf as they spell out Zen's question. [say](Are you okay?)[/say] The man will probably live, but it's worth asking.
RE: I swear I feel like a toilet bowl - Kaisel - 07-26-2025
A groan slips free as Kaisel lies there for a moment, curled like a prawn around the contour of his betrayer, the chair. He flops over onto his back, peering up at the stranger who's wearing a gentle smile, one that rouses a return on Kaisel's face. Starlight appears overhead, traced out like the Disney channel's magic wand into words. Kaisel's eyes widen a bit with wonder and he spins around onto his chest, hoisting himself up, dragging the chair behind him back to its legs with a mild racket that earns him a reproachful look from the librarian down the way.
He reads the starlit message and flashes Zen a thumbs up, spinning around to his table to grab a paper and pen from his collection of jotted down kite notes.
All good in the hood. Cool magic. I'm Kaisel!
He extends the notepad towards Zenith, mimicking the sacred quiet of the library and not raising their voices, though his notes are lacking the same flair. He pulls his notepad back after a minute, jotting down another text.
Know anything about making kites?
Kaisel glances back at his disorderly sprawl of texts on the table, almost every one open to a page about kites in some manner or another. They continue to converse in such a manner, until Kaisel decides he's had enough of being quiet and bids the other man farewell.
[FIN]