3 o'clock things

this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow

"Mm, some, but nothing like yours," Niki agrees, waving a hand imperiously between them as if his empty glass might fill with water or become somehow sexier, shrugging right back at Sunjata as if to say he'd tried his best. "I hear that the more you practice, though, the more likely you are to learn new magics. Maybe I've gotta raise more dead."

The smirk on his face fades into quiet contemplation, then, as the Heartless opens the Pandora's Box that Niki has presented to him, the necromancer treating the information with kid gloves, drunk or otherwise. "A fight to the death," he echoes of the Trial, wincing to learn that the scar is so brutal because it hadn't been treated with care when it needed it the most.

"Sorry for asking," he says then, realising belatedly that it's probably a bit solemn for an afternoon of liquor and chit-chat. "It does sound like most of your scars are from your father, though," he ventures quietly.

Niki

i used to have strength but i ran out of hope

relive who i've been at my worst,
every single night, looking for a distraction

“Yeah, well, mine are mostly water based.” He points out, shooting Niki a lopsided smile before he nods and huffs a quiet laugh at the idea of Niki raising more dead. “Well, there are those graves in your backyard.. I won’t tell if you don’t tell.” His voice drops down into a mischievously low hum for the necromancer’s ears only before he’s sitting back.

It’s precisely in time for him to delve into the not-so-fun and lighthearted conversation that is the iron man himself, nodding as Niki echoes the point of the Trial. “Oh, don’t be.” Sunjata says, letting the smile bloom back on his face and shakes his head. “Actually I think there’s only.. three or four physical ones?” He seems contemplative here, tilting his head to try and think, before he seems to focus back in on Niki. “The wing, the one on my face..” He pauses, before he points to the one on his neck that’s been there long enough to look the most faded, cutting a portion of his wing tattoo out and looking as though it had been tattooed over by the compass. “This one technically wasn’t by his hand but by his instruction.”

Shrugging again, he leans forward toward Niki, all easy and suave and smooth again. “I got the lightning scars from Deimos, technically, while we were fighting a sea panther in Torchline.” He can laugh about it now, even if the memory still sparks that strange nothingness feeling in the balls of his feet.

the flood

waiting for the sun to rise
pretty sight for some hollow eyes

totally sniped from odd ilu

this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow

"Sunjata," Niki hisses with a raise of his eyebrows, as if the other man has just suggested something heinous instead of macabre and fascinating to a necromancer. "That is the sort of thing I feel my neighbours would look down on. But noted - for later. When the ground isn't so hard." The playful glint in his eye entirely overlooks the fact that he's not particularly adept with a shovel (or any manual labour, but whatever).

He doesn't draw attention to Sunjata's use of physical when it comes to his scars, though he wants to, instead watching him rattle off his traumas like a grocery list. It has Niki biting the inside of his cheek, though quite what he's struggling with is unclear even to the necromancer. Instead, huffing out a laugh as the Heartless returns to his usually suave self, he shifts enough to sit properly in the booth again.

"It sounds as though you have lived a colourful life so far," he says wryly. "At least your scars tell a story, mm? You survived."

Niki

i used to have strength but i ran out of hope

relive who i've been at my worst,
every single night, looking for a distraction

A low snicker slips past the Heartless’ lips to hear Niki’s chastisement, the hiss of his name scraping something deeply settled in his bones that hasn’t been touched in a long while. “Flowerbirth activities.” Sunjata shrugs, like that makes all the difference of the comfort in regards to Niki’s neighbors.

Ah, but then he’s talking about his scars, perking up a little with the mention of the sea panther, the amusement of the event finally finding a hold in him after the years since – even though in the moment it had been everything but funny. He shifts his feet a little, as if trying to regain the feeling that had disappeared with the memory before he continues. “Somehow. It’s where all my luck sits, I think.” Because he’s not lucky in any other instance, usually the reason for his scars. His luck waits until the very end when he might perish, only to make a final stand like the stretch runner in a horse race.

He regards Niki then a little more focused. “Well, you ready to go change the room to your heart's content?” He asks, flashing a crooked smile the necromancer’s way.

the flood

waiting for the sun to rise
pretty sight for some hollow eyes

totally sniped from odd ilu

this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow

"Gardenin', you might say," Niki agrees with a sly sort of smile he doesn't even try to hide. "Flowerbirth's a great time for a bit of gardenin', so people say." And since he's in King's End where things seem a lot more manicured than the organic wilderness of the forest, why shouldn't he try it for himself once or twice?

Arching an eyebrow at Sunjata's comment - that all his luck sits in survival - he can only offer a breezy shrug to that. "If that's the case, you and me both," he says, gesturing at the fact that he's here in the Heartless's region despite even the everyday act of existing sometimes posing a threat to him.

But then Sunjata is offering the room again, and as if in response, Niki's limbs feel like they grow at least twice as heavy. "Y'know, I think I'd better," he admits. "Least for a few hours, until I start soberin' up." And, naturally, he shuffles to the edge of the booth and braces against the table to get upright, an act which normally wouldn't pose an issue.

A lot of liquor later, though, and Niki is wobbly to say the least, promptly sitting back down again with a bark of laughter. "Or maybe not."

Niki

i used to have strength but i ran out of hope

relive who i've been at my worst,
every single night, looking for a distraction

“See? Exactly. It’s perfect.” Sunjata grins over toward Niki’s sly smile, content that it really wouldn’t be that different from when the rest of King’s End would come alive with flowers in Flowerbirth. So if Niki were to have random piles of dirt in his backyard, well, it would be very unlikely anyone would have anything to say about it.

Chuckling softly to the agreement that leaves the necromancer in terms of surviving harboring the majority of their luck, it makes him look over the other man again briefly. He’s known about the leg, obviously, and the brief view of scars he’d seen before Niki had hidden them away, but he starts to wonder what other things might hide in the confines of the other man’s clothes and just how much of it Niki despised (based off of his own personal view over the scars).

But this is neither the time nor place to talk about those, so he inclines his head instead in agreement and offers out the room once more, and much to his surprise and delight the necromancer takes him up on it. “However long you need it for, it’s yours.” Sunjata’s just as breezy with his answer as Niki had been with his shrug previously, and as Sunjata starts to shuffle to the edge of the booth as well, he sees the way Niki plops back down onto the booth with a bark of laughter that’s like music to his ears.

Sunjata stands regardless, the grin bright on his face as he extends a hand for the necromancer to take. “Let me help.” He offers out, whether it be another person to ensure he doesn’t fall and eat shit or to carry him up to the room. But he’d promised not to pick Niki up without being told to, and he would very much like to keep his shins intact, thank you.

the flood

waiting for the sun to rise
pretty sight for some hollow eyes

totally sniped from odd ilu

this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow

"Well, hopefully not too long," Niki says with a sunny smile that takes years off him - not that he has all that many to count, but the birthdays he has collected have been hard earned. "Not now that I've figured out what drinks I like." Not when he's yet to discover an espresso martini, which might be the end of it all when it does happen. For right now, though, his head tips back to watch Sunjata rise to his feet, appearing even taller for the way the necromancer is forced to remain seated.

"Gods, you're far away," is how he opts to phrase such a thing, and though the kernel of independence within him wants to give standing another go, the way all the alcohol seems to have just rushed to his legs suggests he take a different course of action. "Fiiiiine," he says, riding the acceptance out on a sigh that's ruined by the smile still lingering on his face. "You can be my cane."

So saying, he slaps a hand into Sunjata's before he gets a chance to really offer it, his palm warm and calloused, Niki hauling himself to his feet and immediately overbalancing until he can use the Heartless to prop himself up, more or less. "We did it," he announces, triumphant.

Niki

i used to have strength but i ran out of hope

relive who i've been at my worst,
every single night, looking for a distraction

The sunny smile stuns him for a moment, with how youthful it looks on the necromancer’s face compared to the nearly hardened look the abandoned had always seemed to harbor. Sunjata can’t help but to flash a lopsided one back at him, nodding. “All it takes is a little exploration.” Sunjata murmurs – specifically about the drinks, but however Niki wants to take it, Sunjata will let him.

Especially because he’s moving to stand, and he can’t help the slight bark of a laugh that leaves him to hear Niki’s comment. His steel gaze focuses on the necromancer, arm extended, awaiting the way Niki might push him away only to be quietly delighted to see that the man does take him up on the offer. He doesn’t try to hide the grin that blooms on his face with it, either, bright and blossoming as Niki slaps his hand into his own and the Heartless makes sure he’s steady when Niki tries to go again.

He can feel the callouses on the other man’s hand, met with ones of his own and the scar that bisects his palm. He’s equally as warm, but stands like a pillar while Niki figures out his balance until he’s all but propped up against him. “We did.” Sunjata hums, his voice somehow even more thickly accented as he shifts a little to let Niki try to take another step. “So, how am I doing as a cane?” He asks, starting to guide them toward the room in question. The stairs would prove challenging, but it’s nothing a little partial shifting can’t fix (or carrying).

the flood

waiting for the sun to rise
pretty sight for some hollow eyes

totally sniped from odd ilu

this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow

"You would say something like that," Niki retorts, though there's little more than amusement on his face as the other man dutifully helps him back to his feet. Normally something like this would be mortifying, but several shots of liquor deep and the necromancer has to bite back the laughter that threatens to spill from his lips. He ends up using Sunjata more like a moving wall than a cane, grasping onto a shoulder and seeming very put out that the ground keeps wiggling away from him when he tries to walk.

Still, however weaving it might be and however reliant on the Heartless's balance and guidance, they do start going in a direction, but it's up to Sunjata to know where exactly that is. "You're doin' fine," he says, still frowning down at his feet. "It's my legs that are the problem. No change there though, I guess."

And it might have been fine (if not incredibly slow going) were it not for the obstacle of stairs, something Niki sees coming only when he finally drags his eyes away from the immediate few steps ahead. "Well shit," he blurts when he spots them. "Just leave me here, I'll sleep at the bottom."

Niki

i used to have strength but i ran out of hope

relive who i've been at my worst,
every single night, looking for a distraction

A laugh leaves him, soft and easy as he gets the necromancer onto his feet. He lets him hang on him however he wants to while they manage to get settled in the direction of the rooms, Sunjata half focused on making sure Niki’s legs have a little more bone to them than jelly, as well as his own steps. And he’s quietly grateful for the fact Niki isn’t terribly upset by this turnaround. “We’ll get you upstairs and settled in no time.” Sunjata confirms, at least until the stairs loom in front of them and Niki’s voice blurts out an idea that Sunjata won’t take.

“Noooo, we’re not gonna do that.” He says with a deep and warm laugh, shaking his head slightly as they settle. “I really should put an elevator of sorts in here.” He mutters under his breath in the exhale of his laugh, before he’s tilting his head down toward Niki. “Will you let me pick you up? I’ll let you decide if I carry you up them or fly?” He tosses out like both options might be equally tantalizing, a choice he could choose between that wasn’t sleeping at the bottom of the stairs.

the flood

waiting for the sun to rise
pretty sight for some hollow eyes

totally sniped from odd ilu

this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow

"You should," Niki agrees as they pause at the bottom of the stairs, the necromancer scowling drunkenly up them as if they might have multiplied since the last time he was here. "Your brothel is ableist," he adds, more or less draped against Sunjata but fully preparing to go boneless and let himself slide down to the ground at a moment's notice. (Being this drunk this quickly is tiring, who knew?)

"I like your laugh," he says instead for now, smirking up at the Heartless and (frog)blinking at him as he's given the equivalent of two options hiding in a trenchcoat; aka, just one option, really. Groaning and rubbing at his eyes with his free hand, as Niki realises he's not going to get away without having his uncooperative feet swept from beneath him, he shrugs and gestures to the stairs.

"You pick," he decides. "I'm too drunk to be makin' decisions."

Niki

i used to have strength but i ran out of hope

relive who i've been at my worst,
every single night, looking for a distraction

Hearing the sass of the fact his brothel is definitely made for people who can walk, he’s already started to try and figure out how to get something to work and function within the House of Midnight to make it more accessible, even if he laughs softly in answer. “Yeah, I’m seeing that.” He half mutters, before his attention is immediately snatched down toward the necromancer to hear that he likes his laugh.

A flare of red flits through his cheeks and the tips of his ears, flashing a crooked smile back down at him. “Thanks.” Hopefully he has enough time to get his face less hot while they debate which way he should carry Niki up the stairs. And with the permission mostly granted, Sunjata opts for the easiest one that won’t have his wings banging into each and every rail on the way up.

“Alright, here we go.” Luckily, the stairs are empty, with people either in their rooms or in the entertaining sector down by the bar that they’d just left, and rather than scooping up Niki as he had for Flora’s party, he opts for a little less of a romantic appearing hold. “I’ll be quick, don’t worry.” He says, picking up Niki as though he weighs nothing and holds him to his chest, giving him a view of the descending stairs as he steps up them as quickly as he can to get to the top.

the flood

waiting for the sun to rise
pretty sight for some hollow eyes

totally sniped from odd ilu

this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow

Unfortunately for Sunjata, this time around Niki is both drunk and already looking at him, and he inhales a sharp and delighted sound. "Are you blushin'? Did I make you blush?" Grinning and reaching up to pinch gently at the Heartless's cheek, the necromancer is simultaneously weightless and a dead weight for someone with a demigod's strength, and he lets out a small ooooop as the ground disappears and he's more or less propped over Sunjata's shoulder.

"Now you're the elevator," he half mumbles, and the other man will hear Niki's quiet weeeeeeee as he watches the stairs whizz by. That only amuses him for a second or two, though, the necromancer huffing out a breath and watching the lounge as it shrinks away, until all he can do is loll against Sunjata and wait for the ride to stop. "You smell nice," he slurs in the interim, patting him on the back like it's a congratulations.

Niki

i used to have strength but i ran out of hope

relive who i've been at my worst,
every single night, looking for a distraction

Regardless of whether or not Sunjata wanted to lie to Niki about whether or not he’d made him blush, the proof is in the heat radiating from his cheeks when Niki reaches up to pinch at it and Sunjata huffs a soft sound that’s nearly sheepish in the way he answers. “Maybe.” A nonanswer sounded good enough, to be honest, and for that Sunjata utilizes it as the distraction he’s hoping for as he picks Niki up from the floor and he goes up and up and up – given how tall the Heartless is.

“I sure am.” Sunjata answers, not quite realizing just how different of a point of view Niki’s currently receiving being at his height instead of the necromancer’s own, though he wonders whether or not Niki’s got it in him to realize the difference as he takes the stairs. The lounge below vanishes and the hallway comes into view, warmer up here than it had been downstairs though not by too much. “Thanks. I try to.” It’s a blatant lie, with his passive magic making it so he smelled nice regardless of whether or not he realistically did.

It was a small blessing, he supposes. But he reaches the top of the stairs and turns them in a bit so that there’s very little chance of Niki succumbing back down the stairs when he goes to set him down, unsure if his legs will have given up at this point or will continue to try to carry him to the room just across the hall. “Almost there. How’re your legs?”

the flood

waiting for the sun to rise
pretty sight for some hollow eyes

totally sniped from odd ilu