nysalogs | ( open ) out of isolation

( dutch hasn't been to olympia since the entire evacuation to wyver happened in the first place. wyver suits her better on the whole; she likes the emphasis on strength, she likes the respect her fighting prowess earn her, she likes the warmth and the sense of freedom and wildness. olympia has more rules, olympia reminds her of the nine and their lives — but olympia also has some people she knows and likes, whether she'll admit it or not.

flona cove is a happy middle ground in some ways. it feels like a holiday, and dutch doesn't remember the last time she ever had one of those. going undercover doesn't really count, but that trip to leith had been the closest thing to a vacation and that was ages ago. (she's not thinking about how johnny almost died there, about how johnny's in stasis here. it's fine.)

it's like a holiday and dutch is making the most of it: at times, she can be found lazing by the beach in a low-cut emerald swim-suit with a cocktail next to her, scrolling through the network or watching those walking by to see if she spots someone she knows. she also wanders along the shoreline at some point, bare feet on wet sand, finds the nearest bar to get another drink, and goes for a swim. )

( her walk along the shoreline eventually brings dutch to a lagoon that is secluded, empty and utterly beautiful. no harm in going for another swim, is there? she's taking this holiday thing seriously, after all.

so she settles in the lagoon, enjoying the warmth of the water and of the sun, floating in the water — and at some point, she notices a different kind of warmth settling low in her stomach, too. maybe that's why, when someone walks by, she might casually mention: ) The water's nice.

( she might be looking for some company. )

( there are no warrants here and fighting in one of wyver's fight clubs keeps her well-respected and fed, but it isn't really a challenge in the way her work as a killjoy had been. she doesn't want to be a killjoy without johnny or d'avin, without her team, but — maybe she misses it. she misses them, first and foremost, but she misses the rac and the warrants, too. especially the way it was before the war, before khlyen and red 17 and arkyn, before everything. she misses when it was uncomplicated. challenging but fun.

visiting khali vilage isn't nearly the same, but it's an adventure of sorts, isn't it? so she takes the fyrra that she's told is the only way to get in and starts walking.

at some point during the trip, the tension starts bleeding from her shoulders, her gait loosening, hips rolling a little more and her lips curling up into what can only be described as a soft smile. dutch doesn't remember the last time she's been this relaxed. it's almost as though the pain of losing a world and johnny (to stasis, at least), the recent kidnapping and torture, the anger and the aimlessness of no longer having a purpose, a goal, a war to fight, as though all of that has fallen away. her training from khlyen, too. most of all, her training from khlyen. )

( thomas nightingale's idea of casual is a pair of chinos and a crisp white button down shirt, a panama hat on his head. he's rolled up the sleeves of his button down, at least, and the top button is opened. in this outfit, he can be found strolling along the pier, reading a newspaper on a bench overlooking the ocean, or even on the beach, hand-made leather shoes in one hand, socks stuffed into them, his toes and ankles visible because he's rolled up his chinos as well. (scandalous!)

at various points, you might seem something moving in the front pocket of his button down. sometimes, a little sugar glider will poke its head out — and very rarely, it might decide to go on an adventure and launch itself from nightingale's chest into the air, hurtling toward you. please make sure it lands softly and doesn't get hurt! )

( he has no particular inclination to get naked in front of a group of strangers, but there is something to be said for the casual and matter of course manner in which the natives of the village go about it. he has no particular inclination to get naked, but nightingale does have a particular inclination to be clean, so come nightfall, nightingale can be found at the edge of the pond, stripping down his suit layers, folding them neatly, setting them atop of his shoes.

it reveals a slender but muscular body, not entirely free of scars: there's one on his shoulder that someone with the relevant knowledge might identify as the result of a bullet going through, entry and exit wound both scarred by now. there's another on his right leg.

he wades into the pool, not seeking eye contact or companionship but not principally opposed, either. )

( the accommodation reminds nightingale of his time in india, back when he'd worked for the foreign office still. back when india was still part of the empire. he thinks peter would frown at the comparison and rightly so, but he cannot undo his experiences and he cannot change that he is a product of his time, though he can change his attitude and beliefs now. discussions with peter have gone a long way to doing just that.

peter isn't here, of course. neither is molly. he is, by and large, free of responsibility and duty. it leaves him more aimless and adrift than he'd like, but for the moment, the ghosts of the war and the heavy weight of loss are not rearing their ugly heads. he has the guard and he has people he cares about here. he has a duty, still, to ensure that should molly wake, she will have a home. he cannot let himself go entirely — but for tonight, there is nothing he ought to be doing.

maybe that's why he doesn't decline the offer of a new experience. he wouldn't have indulged in india, but he'd had a great many duties, then. most of his colleagues hadn't seen it quite the way he had. in a way, then, this is making up for lost time — or rather, using the additional time he's been given. it's precisely this kind of thinking that makes him inclined to try the fyrra again; what he'd taken to gain access to the village had left him in a pleasantly relaxed state that he wouldn't mind replicating, after all.

the fyrra doesn't quite replicate that state. he finds himself relaxed, yes, his mood elevated until there is a smile on his features. he also finds himself with heat low in his belly, arousal swirling, his throat a little dry and the sensation of his suit against his skin more noticeable than usual. he doesn't quite squirm in his seat, but he might shift his weight a little, looking around the room. )

[ This atmosphere is one that, in theory, Jim likes just fine, but becomes a bit of a mess in practice. The last time he was on a beach, the water was violet and the 'sand' was soft, powdery pink, he was working through learning a native language with Uhura, and the planet's radiation was pleasantly soft enough to pose no threat to human skin.

Alas. Well, he'll work with it. ]

Feel like a refill? [ asks the behatted figure approaching Dutch. Hi, it's Jim, who has come in peace with cocktails, wearing a gauzy black robe over the appropriate swimwear shorts and a giant wide-brimmed hat. ]

[Shell isn't exactly the type of person to gawk at someone while they're undressing, really. But he also didn't expect to see anyone else entering the pool this late at night. Of course, it's not a desire for modesty that brings him here -- the weather in this region was really too warm for vampires like him, and finding himself unable to sleep, he thought relaxing in the water might help him cool down.]

[Seeing that the other man isn't one of the Khali has him a bit curious -- is he from Wyver or Olympia, he wonders... he's not sure whether the man is looking for company or not, but at the very least, it feels a bit awkward not to let his presence he known.]

[Not that he's easy to miss, what with his pale skin and bright green eyes that seem to reflect any light that hits them, rather like a cat's eyes. But he's also keeping himself lower in the water, with only his shoulders and head poking out from the surface.]

--s-sorry, I wasn't looking! [So he says, obviously turning to look away.] I didn't think anyone else would be out here this late.

[ John has grown tired of all the people around the bonfires.

He's not super big on noisy parties to begin with, especially when he hardly knows anyone. With friends? Sure! But big crowds of strangers leave him unconsciously alert for trouble. So eventually he wanders away down the beach, absently rolling up the sleeves of his already unbuttoned shirt and trying to find some peace and quiet. He's lost enough in thought that he'd doesn't notice Dutch until she calls out to him, but the sound of her voice has him pausing and turning toward the waters edge. ]

Looks pretty nice from here.

[ You know, both her and the water for that matter. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts, squints at the way she's floating thoughtfully. ]

[Despite Dorian's intentions being quite the opposite — there for work, there for documenting, there for slowly chipping away at his own sanity trying to store every mile of this world into his mind for safekeeping in case he needed it — he finds himself walking into the same room as Nightingale. The scent of the fyrra is a pleasant one, and the world is a bit more quiet here. Enough that he can sit back, relax, calm his racing thoughts.

Well, he was going to do those things. The moment he meets the other man's gaze, his brows shoot up in a mixture of surprise and amusement.]

You are, perhaps, the last person I thought would be here.

( he's wearing a hat and a gauzy black robe and for a moment, dutch only stares over the rim of her sunglasses at him. then she starts laughing. sorry, jim, but you look ridiculous. )

I'd say yes, but that would mean you have to take all of that off.

( the robe at least. look, they can find him an umbrella or something to sit under, but that robe is just not on. )

Where did you even find that?

I didn't have anything appropriate to wear and this is what the ladies at the shop stuck me in.

[ He somehow retains his dignity. Look, it's comfortable, and he's at least somewhat less likely to immediately light on fire. Do you want your cocktail or not, Dutch?? ]

I think I look very fashion-forward and secure in my masculinity, actually.

[ HE KNOWS, ALRIGHT. ]

( is she secure enough in his masculinity to let him stay, though? wait for the answer... )

Fine. You can stay.

( yes. or maybe she just really wants another cocktail. )

Maybe you should get in.

( the phrasing is mostly a suggestion. her tone is light enough that it doesn't turn into an order on that alone. dutch has plenty experience ordering others around, of course, but there's a time and a place for it.

this probably isn't it.

he squints, she tips her head back for a moment before slanting a glance at him again. ) Like what you see?

( nightingale hadn't precisely expected anyone else to be in the pool, either. he glances at shell for a moment, then continues wading deeper into the pool. not toward shell, but not away from him, either. it is only when he's covered to his shoulders that he answers: )

It seems we had the same idea.

( and expectation.

the pale skin and the eyes seem preternatural, but nightingale is very much used to all sorts of fae — the collective term for all those the wizarding community knows little about, which nightingale will be the first to admit is most of those in the demi-monde. )

Thank you kindly. [ A little bit teasing, having entirely the wrong American accent for that. Jim sits next to her, careful with the drinks, and -- yeah he does look a little squinty already, and is that a gun in his pocket or is he just -- ok no it's a sunscreen bottle, which he produces with a flourish. ] I should put more of this on, probably, before my skin actually starts boiling. Sunglasses seem wiser, in hindsight.

[ It's been a while since he's been to the beach, okay. ]

The academy was on the coast, but the weather was usually really foggy. I have no idea what I'm doing. [ Yeah Jim she noticed. ]

( nightingale feels very relaxed. it is a loss of control, certainly, but one he has chosen to experience and that makes it more palatable than olympia's red light district or the heat of the wyver moon — and both of those have led to some interesting experiences for nightingale. not bad ones; he will not regret them even if john watson is now in stasis.

he's relaxed, which is perhaps why he responds quite frankly: ) I'm the last person I'd expect to see here, too. ( and then he smiles. )

I may have needed the break. ( it's an admission he most certainly wouldn't be offering without the fyrra in his system. it is also, to some extent at least, a testament to the fact that he enjoys dorian's company and trusts him. he hasn't lost that much control. )

( dutch doesn't know anything about america or american accents, so the fact that he has the wrong one for the words goes entirely over her head. the sunscreen bottle doesn't, though. nor has the fact that he's really bad at this. )

If you take off that monstrosity, I'll do your back.

[ If there are native beings who look like the Khali living on this planet, why are the Natha going so far out of their way to cloak non-humanoid refugees?

-- is not something Jim can just ask the representative at the Outpost. But, he thinks, he should have asked more about the terrain surrounding the village. He's not sure if what he's seeing is real or a hallucination courtesy of the herb that's otherwise mellowing him out to a pleasant degree. Space-age immunizations mean he's not as susceptible to intoxicants as he might otherwise be, but it's still definitely hitting him. (And briefly caused a rash on one forearm, thanks for fucking nothing, allergies, but it seems to have gone away.)

Oh hey, it's Dutch. Jim approaches, neither sneaky nor clumsy, because he doesn't have a concern in the world about that sort of thing, at present. Instead of calling out he just waits until she notices him, then snags her hand in a silent hello. ]

( ordinarily, dutch would have realised someone was approaching from behind much sooner than she does now. ordinarily, snagging her hand without her awareness would be a great way of getting a broken hand. jim waits until she notices to take her hand now, but he probably would have gotten away with it without broken bones even if he hadn't. there's no tension between her shoulder blades now and no sense of needing to defend herself, of needing to be alert.

his palm meets hers, their fingers intertwining, and dutch smiles up at him. )

Hey, you.

You are so mean, [ Jim laughs, without any heat. He pulls the hat off and sets it on her head before pulling the robe off over his own, like it's a t-shirt. He shakes dark blonde hair out, pushes his fingers through it; he could probably do with getting it cut, soon. ]

You also look like you were born to be out here. [ FYI, pretty lady. ]

Hey. [ Jim's smile is warm. Some part of him is well aware it's out of character for them both - him to be grabbing anybody and her to be permitting it - but he feels like he has a strange awareness under the influence of this intoxicant, and just knows they're both, like, cool with it, man. ]

We're doing a lot of walking lately. [ To and from the Outpost. Over the beach. Here, traveling into the village. What a dumb observation. Whatever, it's nice out.

(And he trusts Dutch, doesn't he? He doesn't ... not trust her.) ]

( dutch is very not untrustworthy. back home, she's been trying hard to win a war for all of humanity — but she's not a hero. she never will be, not with everything that happened in her past. not with everything she's done.

right now, none of that matters. )

Yeah. ( a lot of walking. she swings their hands a little between their bodies, thumb rubbing over the back of his hand in an easily affectionate gesture. ) I don't mind it. Wore my walking boots.

I guess that depends -- did you have trouble sleeping too?

[He actually figures that wasn't the case. It didn't seem like that much of a stretch that someone would come out here just to avoid a crowd or being seen at all, and Shell's particular issue with the climate here had more to do with what he was than what he was used to]

It's much colder where I'm from, so I'm not used to it still being this hot at night. But I guess that's normal for this side of Nysa...

Yeah. So?

( she's not just mean, she's unrepentantly mean. but she's also grinning, reaching over to muss up his hair a little more. it's bigger and fluffier than it was when she'd first met him.

and then she takes one of the cocktails and treats herself to a long sip. shrugs. ) It's a nice place and I haven't had a holiday in forever.

( open ) out of isolation

DUTCH @ FLONA COVE'S BEACH

DUTCH @ CUPID'S POOL (probably nsfw)

DUTCH @ ENTRANCE TO KHALI VILLAGE (fyrra use)

NIGHTINGALE @ FLONA COVE'S BEACH

NIGHTINGALE @ HEART OF KHALO

NIGHTINGALE @ KHALO ACCOMMODATION (fyrra use, possibly nsfw!, m/m only)

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