ta reine ce soir ;

dahlia, at times, prided herself on taking notes about gifts others would enjoy. & that partially stemmed this picnic happening in the first place. this was her gift, this was her formation of that adoration, letting it manifest in the physical sense. but when it came to actual gifts like this — dahlia struggled to accept them. sometimes, they did act as a reminder that those at gravity liked to lavish her. & so equating the lavishing of a friend with something stickier than molasses pained her. yet the gift within kai's box was far more beautiful to her than the rest. her face reflected that.

"how long have you been hiding this from me?" she hadn't given a single inclination she had been working on something in secret. if dahlia thought about it, she might be able to trace the conversations back to kai dodging questions with vague answers. but part of dahlia didn't want to unravel it. she caressed her thumb along the gilded edge of the dahlia flower, herself in flora-form, sparkling pinker & better than dahlia had ever seen herself in any light. "this is beyond just getting something. i'm going to cry." and she knew where she would put it. "oh, my god. this is going to be the best thing i own after this. i know exactly where it's going in my living room so i can look at it every day."

& despite it being a penthouse, it was sparse. but not with this to grow in it. the joy bursting through her was another bloom. "this didn't get in the way of anything else, did it?" eyeing her. "i'm surprised you managed to keep this a secret at all."

but as soon as dahlia's last comment left her lips, so nonchalantly, still taking her time to study her gift with practically hearts in her eyes, kai couldn't help feel guilty. secrets. this was the one part that dahlia didn't know. all she knew she was some big shot art dealer and gallery owner, and kai has somehow managed to keep most of the other part a secret. her life was full of secrets, her job was full of secrets -- she was full of secrets. how could someone know you so well, yet know nothing at all.

kai kept her smile bright and warm, though she worried her eyes would give something away. in any other instance, kai would never struggle, never doubt her abilities, but... it's always different when it's personal. so, she pivoted the conversation. ❛ if you're thinking to put it in the same place i'm thinking, which i know you are, then you are just as amazing. because amazing minds think alike. ❜ her hands found another cookie and she sunk her teeth into the chewiness and chocolate. ❛ and come on, let's here it, what's the plan for today ? ❜

salvador exited the cab slightly more anxious than he thought he would be. it was, by no means, because of something that was about to happen— to be precise, it was because he had no idea what were kai’s motives for bringing him out here in the first place. if there was one thing he had learned to expect about kai… it’s the unexpected. and he was delighted by it each time, regardless of his own nervousness.

still, he takes a deep, calm breath, pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and follows a familiar pathway along the narrow alleyways and slippery stairs towards the front door that he haven’t opened in a little while — yet the familiarity still lingers in the air. there was a time when salvador would frequent the cabinet of curiosities quite often, but recent events made him less than available for satisfying his own hobbies or interests.

he smiles to himself. well, perhaps kai knew exactly what he needed at this time, better than he did.

a small bell atop of the door announces salvador’s entrance as his eyes immediately settle on the hanging man associate who invited him here. she has become a ray of light in these otherwise gloomy times and as much as he wants to keep all of his focus on the current events and keep a cool head at all times… he can’t deny that he is grateful for her attempts to keep him from spiralling down.

so yes, while in part the sickly sweetness in her voice was supposed to be played off as one of their inside jokes, the other part, well, she really was trying her best. trying her best to be there for him.

❝  it's not a secret, it never was a secret, and you know i never keep secrets from you,  ❞ she scrunched he nose in fake hurt, but with a twinkle in her eye she hooked her arms in his and pulled him along to the front desk, ❝ i just wanted it to be a surprise. ❞ just at that moment, the shopkeep returned with a wrapped painting under his arm, grumbling something of a 'here you go', then disappeared into the back again, all without looking at kai. a hurt ego. stiffling a chuckle, she turned to salvador. ❝ ok, you promised that you would decorate your office, make your it more homey, so... ta-da ! ❞

𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐭  𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭  𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨  𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞  𝐚  𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧,  𝐚  𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩  𝐨𝐟  𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬.  now  the  kraken  was  not  a  fan  of  anyone  playing  games  with  those  he  kept  close-  though  not  too  close.  a  game  of  cat  and  mouse  and  the  cheese  had  very  little  security  to  keep  an  eye  on  it.  it  was  purposeful,  something  to  make  the  mouth  water  and  to  tempt  the  gnashing  of  teeth.  it  shouldn’t  surprise  cesco,  the  little  missions  set  up  these  days  were  always  so…  boring.  but  they  could  make  something  fun  out  of  this.

dark  hues  focus  in  on  kai,  a  slight  uptick  of  the  left  corner  of  his  mouth  finding  humour  in  her  comment.  he’s  not  the  best  with  small  talk,  which  for  a  consigliere…  well,  it’s  a  good  thing  most  conversations  with  that  career  revolve  around  more  interesting  subjects.  ❝  le  mei  scusa.  ❞  not  a  real  apology,  it’s  tinted  with  sarcasm,  the  vowels  melting  with  it.

❝  a  forgery  or  a  terribly  set  trap  —  ❞  his  head  tilts  to  the  side,  eyes  narrowing  somewhat  but  there’s  mischief  there.  ❝  or  both.  ❞  his  fingers  spin  the  booklet  back  to  facing  him,  flipping  the  pages  but  not  truly  taking  in  what  they  held.  ❝  do  you  think  the  department  of  art  theft  has  hired  a  new  hotshot?  ❞  could  be  a  plausible  angle,  a  new  detective  with  a  chip  on  their  shoulder  and  the  naive  ego  to  believe  they  would  catch  a  big  fish  early  on.

her eyebrows knit into a frown, mock contemplation for what upcoming. she buried her thoughts as quickly as they came, barely a beat, before replacing them with intense defiance. traps always felt like a challenge. she was always up for a challenge. and lately, she needed a challenge.

she raised her hand up for the waitress and signalled for an esspresso before turning back to cesco flipping through the booklet. she snickered at the thought of a new detective. ❛ what do you think she doing now? agent --what's her name again? ❜ ever since kai and cesco met, they had two hits. two minor pieces; one sculpture from a promising up-and-coming artist who already had a showing at christie's and the other, an authentic andy warhol print. they were too far apart to seem connected, yet still significant enough to be noticed. after their second hit, kai remembered hearing rumours about the department firing the previous detective. and now, they may have just hired a new hotshot. ❛ but, in any case, if they did hire someone new -- ❜ her eyes followed the waitress who came with her espresso, smiling kindly to her as she left. ❛ it's our job to give them a warm welcome, don't you think? ❜

call it her innate intuition on people, her impeccable judgement of character or just her risk-seeking impulsivity, especially when she's hungry, but kai could feel the hostility inside her fading. frankly her hunger and tiredness may have gotten the better of her, but also, as much as she hated to admit it he really didn't seem like the type ( the sadistic member of the enemy organisation she swore to help take down ), especially when he acted so ignorant towards any bigger issue that could possibly exist. so she squinted, eyes flickering between the energy bar and the face of the man holding it towards her, contemplating. of course, she could be wrong, he could just as easily poison her -- but she's rarely wrong when it comes to people.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: closed for @fcathcrtouch ♡ 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: a cafe. 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄: late afternoon.

𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞   𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝   𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡   𝐚   𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧   𝐟𝐨𝐫   𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠   𝐛𝐢𝐠   𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.   who   knows   how   long   it   would   take   until   the   hanging   man   became   an   enemy   of   the   terrors.   yet   the   terror’s   own   kraken   has   formed   a   friendship   with   one   of   their   members,   though   he’d   deny   it   to   the   grave   if   asked.   there’s   few   on   this   earth   that   cesco   can   fall   into   a   conversation   about   art   and   not   end   up   rolling   his   eyes   for   the   majority   of   it.   the   energy   in   the   café   is   a   light   hum,   not   too   many   people   but   not   too   little   so   they   would   draw   attention.   he   chooses   the   table   with   access   to   the   nearest   exits,   a   habit   he   has   never   quite   kicked,   and   with   his   reputation   he   won’t.   dark   hues   zone   in   on   kai,   a   soft   smile   almost   threatens   to   tug   on   the   side   of   his   mouth,   but   he   fights   it.   a   hello   isn’t   the   initial   greeting   but   sliding   across   a   small   booklet   for   an   upcoming   art   exhibition   he   knew   the   other   would   like.   ❝   you   won’t   believe   what   painting   they’ve   got   and   how   little   security   they   have.   ❞

featuring ›› kai ryuu.

location ›› at a park & for once, it's calm.

dahlia had thrown her all into this. she had scrambled to save up tips from the last week, ensured that in her private time, she sauntered from the rooms with a credit-lined pocket. and those credits had been dedicated to something rather small and simple, for once: creating the best picnic of all time. she never considered herself to be an anniversary person; the last thing she celebrated of that sort had hurt her all too badly. but this was of a different kind, and deserved a different lens: after all, it is not every day that they met someone in the calm of a museum and it fell from some chance encounter into a necessary habit.

it was as if her feet floated across the grass, barely touching the ground with her quick strides until she stood before dahlia and the coziest picnic set up kai had ever seen, tucked up against one of the larger trees in the park. an accurate description because that's what kai's mind went to whenever she thought of her: cozy, warm, home. she was one of the first persons she met when she arrived in this city, one of the first persons she met who was outside of this world she lived in; she made her feel welcomed to a world she never thought she could belong in anymore. she made her feel safe, content, normal.

❛ of course, i did! you think i'd miss this? ❜ she said already reaching for one of her cookies, taking a good bite and letting the chocolate chips melt in her mouth. ❛ oh my god, you say this everytime- but- but they always turn out so good! ❜ it must be something to see someone like kai, hair pristine, in her designer jacket, skirt, and shoes, sitting on a blanket in the grass with chocolate likely all over her face. but this was kai at her core, never being quite as she seemed -- and dahlia always took that in strides, never questioning it, and that's why kai loved her.

when she ate the last piece of cookie, she finally turned to her bag and pulled a thin rectangular box out. inside was the sculpted dahlia flower she had been working on the past several weeks -- sculpted, painted light pink, with edges dipped in gold. ❛ now i know we said we wouldn't get anything, ❜ she offered the gift to dahlia with a twinkle in her eye, ❛ but you know i never listen. ❜

honestly, his general unphased demenor aggrivated her. now, she didn't usually get this bothered by people, she prided herself on being a cool and collected person under most situations, but given this situation in particular, and the rumbling in her stomach she was much more irratible than usual to say the least.

A direct reflection of how he views himself.

But it’s warm here. Rowdy at times, but a decent third place he doesn’t hate visiting time and time again.

The last of his drink is finished off before he orders another. A napkin drags over the nearest pool of condensation to keep it from encroaching near his sketch book. It’s been closed upon arrival. Needed a few stiff ones to loosen his mind before delving into the worn pages.

her eyes softened as they scanned the weariness of his face, then she glanced at the sketchbook; kept close by, yet distant all the same. she wouldn't push, she knew if he wanted to show her he would in his own time, but she hated how dreary he looked.

just then the bartender slid her drink towards her, ice clicking loudly against the glass snapping her out of it and she decided. she turned around and fished her own sketchbook out of her tote bag. now, showing her art was not normal for kai, rare are the ones who ever get to see it. but even more abnormal was for kai to let someone stew disconsolated -- not if she can help it.

Jax could not be everywhere at the same time, but she could try. Having picked up a bouquet of flowers for her date, she’d ran down the subway to make it to the skating rink in time, stopping on her way there by her favourite coffee spot to get some hot beverages, and managed to get everything to the place without a single spill. Standing at the entrance, in her best most comfortable pantalons - grey - and a woollen red top. She was always too early, to scope out the area, a habit she couldn’t shake. When her date arrived, she waved. “Hello, I double checked the coffee that you liked, I hope I got the right one,” she said with a wink. 

she grinned when she found jax near the counters. ❛ hi ! i was planning to buy you a drink when i got here, but you beat me to it, ❜ she said with a twinkle in her eye. kai had a way of making everything into a competition, but she can still be graceful about it; especially when there's a cute girl. the cappaccino was still warm and creamy just how she liked it, ❛ it's perfect- and thank you for the flowers. how did you know sunflowers were my favourite ? ❜ she tucked the flowers safely in her bag, and turned towards the rink, ❛ shall we ? ❜ she picked up her skates, ❛ oh and by the way, i'm buy dinner. ❜

Zakir was running from spot to spot today, unable to settle down for long enough to write a few lyrics or have a coffee. His own business messing together with Dead Hand business, several languages settled in his brain, trying to gain his fullest attention. His eyes were hurting, but he had turned to the thickest sunglasses he had to keep the neon lights of the city out. He was carrying a bottle of water everywhere, the lid pushed against his bottom lip as he entered the elevator. He was alone at first, until another body joined him there.

Zakir leaned against the back wall, his head tilted towards the top light, because then at least no light would crawl in through the gaps between his glasses and his forehead. The elevator dinged, the door closed, and started rising, rising. There was a shudder and the whole machine stopped, lights flickered for a moment, turned back on, and then simmered down, bathing the area in a soft blue glow.