estoria | [open] coping mechanisms

Who: Simon Blackquill (

shacklebreaker), Taka, and you!
When: 21st December/early hours of 22nd
Where: Various
What: The Twisted Samurai spends the day alone for some personal reflection.
Rating/Warning: AA5 spoilers. Mentions of death/implied suicide. Drankin.

i. AFTERNOON - CERES GARDENS

[Blackquill's brought his hawk to the gardens to give him some exercise. At the moment he's throwing scraps of meat for Taka to snatch out of midair, making the bird work for his food. If Taka catches it successfully -- which he does without fail, every time -- the hawk is whistled back and rewarded with another treat.

It's not a training session, but rather, a way to get Taka to stretch his wings. The hawk is already well-trained enough that Blackquill doesn't even need a hood or jesses for his bird. The last thing he's interested in is tying his faithful companion down when Taka can fly free, and it gives him a calming sense of peace to watch him soar and dive through the air.

Once Taka has eaten his fill, Blackquill can be found strolling through the gardens. His hawk is hidden in the trees, although anyone observant might notice the bird never strays too far away.]

ii. LATE EVENING THROUGH TO 1AM - NOVUS/REPLEA

[Given today's date, there's morbid appropriateness in stowing away for the evening in what the locals knew as the 'entrance to the underworld'. The bar might be considered seedy to some, filled with criminals and rebel activity as it was, but after seven years on death row, Blackquill is more comfortable with this brand of drinking company than anything else.

Not that he's interested in socialising. He's too wrapped up in his own thoughts for that, nursing a drink at the bar and trying to numb the dull pain that has hung over him all day.

He'd spent seven years in a cell. Seven years, waiting for his own willing demise. For seven years of sleepless nights, confinement and isolation, the past replaying over and over in his mind, he'd marched, slowly but resolutely, towards the end.

Then, at the very last moment, she'd reached out and snatched him from the jaws of death.

Were all those years worth it? Yes, if it was to serve the one more important to him than life itself. But now after all that pain, here they were, in Cerealia. Their world had been destroyed, and they owed their existences here to data. The more he thinks about it, the more he feels he'd failed her. And that her struggles, too, had been for nothing...

But such thoughts are enough to drive a man to madness. Better not to think on it. He downs the last of his beer, and slams down a hand on the bartop for another.

Tonight is going to be a long night.]

iii. EARLY HOURS OF THE MORNING - APARTMENTS

[It's almost 2am when Blackquill returns to the apartment complex. He'd hoped to slip in unnoticed, but as he fumbles to find his room key, the plastic snowman Athena had put outside her room a few days prior bursts into song. Yet again.]

Curse you, you noisy thing-- [He mutters under his breath, rifling through his pockets with more urgency. He'll try and get into his room before anyone on the floor is woken up...]

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[ It's not like she sleep early, even in Cerealia. Now that she has some free time what with not handling any legal cases, Athena has taken it upon herself to further her studies in psychology. It's why she still stays up late. Old habits die hard! Or something.

Not to mention, she had something planned today, but wasn't able to do it since she couldn't find Simon. Hey, it's his... day, or something. If he had his day all laid out, then she thought of just catching him when he's free. So, when she hears the snowman start singing, she gets up from the small pillow fort she's made in the living room to take a peek at what's going on outside.

Athena says nothing, but just opens the door slightly enough that she's able to poke her head out like a terrible stalker. ]

[He still hasn't managed to get into his room yet; even with the walk back from the bar helping him sober up, remembering where he put his room card is still proving a trial in and of itself.

It's not long before he realises he's being watched, though.]

...You should be asleep.

[Turning to look at the head poking out of her doorway, he says it calmly enough, but there's no disguising the discord in his voice as he says it. He just hoped she'd go back to bed without asking any questions.]

[ Athena takes a step back when she's noticed, but stays right by her door. There were things she wanted to say, especially regarding the date, but now that it's time to say it, she can't seem to find the words. It doesn't seem like Simon's interested in a cheery conversation at the moment, too. ]

I've been reading.

[ Somehow, she feels that talking some more would make the situation a lot similar to what it was like when she had just gotten back to LA. And here she thought everything was going to be fine now, but it looks like she's been wrong the whole time. Of course it wouldn't. Especially not right away.

It takes a bit more from her to continue, but she does. ]

Can you wait here? There's something— [ ... ] Just ten seconds.

[He looks at her for a moment, apparently about to refuse, until he nods.]

No more than that.

[And in all likelihood, he'll literally count to ten. He might feel guilty for avoiding Athena all day, but he still hadn't wanted her to see him like this.]

[ Ten seconds is more than enough time to dash right back in, grab a bag, and muster up a smile.

She opens the door fully just as the tenth second passes, and hangs Simon a paper bag. In it is a small box containing some pokerwork bookmarks. ]

I thought you might find these useful, since you said you were reading the other day.

[Blackquill accepts the bag, and carefully takes out the box to open it. He's both surprised and touched by what he finds inside.]

...They're very beautiful. Thank you, Athena.

[His response is quiet. As ever, she's kinder to him than he feels he deserves.]

They are, aren't they?

[ But now isn't really the time to be out in the hallway and chat. ]

Anyway, that's all. I guess you should go inside now.

[He puts the lid back on the box, and gives a curt nod.]

And you should get some rest. Reading this late at night will strain your eyes.

You're right. I probably should.

[ She's fully intent on being the last person to go back inside. So as she hopes for Simon to head into his apartment, she checks on the snowman and unplugs it. She may have kept it on like that intentionally. Who knows. ]

[Miraculously, he does manage to find his keycard (which was in a pocket of his surcoat all along, go figure).]

...Good night, then.

[And he disappears into his room. Possibly she'll have questions for him later, but he's grateful she's left it alone for now.]

[open] coping mechanisms

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