( you put yourself inside a box )

[heliophilous]

WHO: marcos diaz, takeshi kovacs, illya kuryakin
WHERE: new amsterdam
WHEN: now
WHAT: doing stuff
NOTES OR WARNINGS: n/a (will adjust as needed)

▶ MARCOS

---

[ marcos knows this relative quiet is the breath before whatever's going to come next. he knows that he can't relax, take it too easy, but he won't deny that it's nice. it gives him a chance to focus a little more at work since he'd disappeared, yet again, and that's how he'd lost his last job.

so, he works a lot. he takes his lunches with jyn sometimes or he eats outside when the weather permits. when he's not working, he spends time at his apartment and outside. he walks, mostly, trying to avoid some overzealous sales people who want to make him over (homeless chic is okay with him) and he drinks a lot of coffee because sleep is still something that doesn't happen consistently for him. sometimes, the coffee isn't enough and he dozes in a seat outside one of the cafes.

mostly, he just tries to stay under the radar. he's still a little tetchy about being out in public and water still isn't his favorite thing but he's doing better. ]

---

[ at night, he dreams. he dreams and dreams and he can't stop them. tonight, he's in a dark club, music blaring loudly. bodies contort and intertwine but marcos isn't in the throng of people.

no, marcos is sliding into a seat across from an impeccably dressed woman with the smile of a snake on her face. marcos isn't smiling but he's...playing a part. he's doing what he needs to do to acquire carmen's help.

she's overtly flirtatious and he lets it happen. he needs her help, her resources and he's willing to let this happen.

welcome to a big piece of his past if you're lucky enough to be pulled into this dream of his. ]

▶ ILLYA

---

[ illya doesn't know how to plan a wedding. he'd never thought he'd be getting married and now he is. but, he doesn't know what he's doing. he'd made the mistake of mentioning it while in one of the bakeries he'd gone in for some breakfast and now he was being treated to an aggressive sales pitch on cake.

they were even bringing cake out to him, parading it out in front of him on little plates. there's white cake, chocolate cake, red cake, yellow cake, and cake with flowers on it. ]

This is not necessary.

[ that does not deter the bakers. it seems they haven't done a wedding in a long time and they're very eager. illya tries to be nice and reaches for one slice of cake, taking a bite.

and he nearly spits it up. ]

What is in this?

[ the bakers clap, delight obvious on their face, when they tell him it's tofu. illya barely knows what that is but he shakes his head sharply and tosses it into the trash. perhaps daisy will be okay with just meat and potatoes at their wedding. ]

---

[ typically, illya doesn't dream. he sleeps quietly and still, barely moving at night. tonight though, he does dream. tonight, he's sitting in front of a handsome (if you liked that type) man, stone faced. there's a flat cap on his head and a stony expression on his face.

the other man is rattling off a list of things about illya that most people do not know. and illya is just sitting there, listening. taking it. processing it. getting angrier and angrier and angrier until he shoots up and out of his chair and upends the table.

there's murder in his eyes and tension in every line of his body. it would be so easy to just murder napoleon solo, wouldn't it? ]

▶ KOVACS (cw: torture, language)

---

[ this morning, kovacs woke up and saw quell. it freaked him out if only because he hadn't seen his ghosts in a long fucking time. but she was there, at the end of his bed, looking at him in that way she had that he'd never been able to match. it was softness and determination and love and strength all rolled into one. she'd stayed there for awhile, never speaking no matter how much kovacs had said.

she'd only disappeared when kovacs had rocketed out of his apartment and into the nearest bar. but she'd appeared again, on a stool down at the end of the bar and she was still there. no one else is seeing her but him and kovacs is trying to ignore her by drinking. a lot.

it takes a hell of a lot of booze to get him drunk but he's going to drink until he can't see the ghost of his dead lover. ]

---

[ when kovacs opens his eyes, it's not to the ceiling of his apartment. no, it's to the ceiling of a place that he'd fought his way out of so long ago. it's to dimi standing beside his bed, looking like he'd won the fucking lottery because he was getting to torture and hurt kovacs. there's blood on his face, on his body, blood pooling on the floor from injuries that he's already inflicted.

but kovacs can barely remember what he wanted. this was so long ago, so many fucking injuries ago and he doesn't care. he doesn't even give two shits if dimi kills him. it's a dream, isn't it? why should it matter?

but, he knows that that would disappoint quell. giving up isn't what she trained him to do. giving up is weak, cowardly.

and he's not that. ]

Fuck you!

[ is he saying that to quell? to dimi? to no one? he doesn't know but dimi's the only one there and he laughs. time for more pain. ]

---

[ feel free to hit up any of the open or dreamshares for any of these guys. they're all open prompts so go wild. it's been ages since i've done an open post and i wanted to change tat. hit me up at spoonishly for questions/plotting. ]

Comments

i do what i want

[gasping]

[ the club is dark. packed with people, lights weaving through the bodies, music so loud it even drowns out the sounds of conversation, it's a place to get lost in. caroline doesn't recognize it, but she doesn't mind — it's a nicer dream than some she's had lately, and so she lets go into it.

she dances, because that's what you do in clubs. not that there are that many in mystic falls, but there are many in new amsterdam, and caroline has been to a few. she dances and smiles and laughs, she trades partners around the floor, each enthusiastic and flirtatious and all too willing to let her enjoy herself.

that's all this is, isn't it? a dream. a good dream, with good music, and the thump of heartbeats rocking to the beat. what else could there be? ]

i expect nothing less

[heliophilous]

[ oh caroline. there's definitely more to the dream than just a club and dancing and a lot of pretty, pretty people. marcos isn't aware that she's there for a little while. his conversation with carmen takes up all his focus but soon enough, she's dismissing him and he's getting to his feet, intending to leave.

that's how these things go, right? it's only while he's making his way through the crowd that he catches sight of a familiar head of blonde hair that stops him short.

he's not a stranger to people appearing in his dreams at this point but this is one of the last places he'd want caroline to be. he could just walk out, let the dream end, and hope for the best but he can't do that to her.

she wouldn't do that to him. so, he picks his way through the crowd until he's close enough to catch her fingers with his to try and get her attention. ]

[gasping]

[ it makes sense, she thinks. the touch of his hand is warm, heat surging through her, and she spins into him at the barest encouragement; there's no subtlety in the smooth transition from standing to dancing, and it's only a second before she manages to pull him into the throng, into the sea of bodies all around them, anonymous amidst them all. ]

Hi, [ called out, but against the music, it's barely loud enough to be a whisper against his ear, ] Where'd you come from?

[ has he been in the crowd this whole time? had she missed him? or had he stumbled into this dream after her, and she'd been here paving a space for him? she thinks of the conversation she'd had, and wonders whose dream this must be. is it his? is it hers? does it matter?

no one's fighting. no one's dying. this is just a dancefloor, this is just a club. what's the worst that could happen? ]

[heliophilous]

Hey. [ this is a dream. he knows it's a dream because he's not much for clubs these days and he can still feel carmen's presence like a thorn in his side. and he knows that caroline, of all people, can take care of herself but he still feels an immediate surge of protectiveness because he's brought her here and he doesn't want to upset her in anyway. ]

I've been here. It's my dream. [ he slips an arm around her waist, eyes scanning the area to make sure carmen's not lurking anywhere close before his attention turns back to her. ]

You okay? No one's tried anything, right?

[gasping]

I like this dream a lot better than the last one.

[ better than hers, anyway. better than cages and torture and pain. better than being trapped in a place that offers no escape. or so she thinks. it doesn't occur to her that a gilded cage could still be a cage. ]

It's just a dance floor, Marcos. [ her hands shift, nails dragging into the nape of his neck, a reassuring scratch of fingertips against the soft skin. ] Relax.

marcos.

[evasives]

[ can it really be considered flirting when it's just the default on how he talks to pearl? he feels like he knows so much of her life story by now, details she's always so eager to share. between what he and jyn have both gleaned from her, cassian could easily blackmail her if necessary, but he's not that kind of person anymore! at least he's trying not to be. ]

[ right now he's just waiting for jyn to come out for lunch, pearl having already called her to announce that cassian was here, winking at him for good measure in the midst of the conversation. good thing he already handed over a spare brownie as soon as he arrived. ]

[ she's busy devouring the sweet and cooing over how delicious it is. ]

Jyn made them. [ he sounds like a proud husband. ]

[heliophilous]

[ marcos isn't jyn but marcos is the one that emerges first, not having had any idea that cassian was there. he was just going out for his own lunch when he happens to run into him in the lobby. ]

Jyn cooked?

[ pardon his surprise but...he's surprised. ]

Really? I thought she let anyone else that isn't her do that sort of thing and just ate their food.

[evasives]

[ it is not jyn who comes out but still a familiar face, to cassian and pearl both. pearl drops her mouth then shuts it up quickly, clearly delighted that marcos knows cassian as well as jyn. ]

[ cassian, however, just looks pleased he can share this knowledge. ]

She bakes. Specifically bakes, as a word, in particular. [ baking is a form of cooking but jyn won't have it. ] She baked the brownies.

[heliophilous]

You know, this is not information that she shared with me. I'm kind of hurt.

[ he wasn't all that hurt but he was delighted by this knowledge because there was only one thing to do with it: use it to tease jyn. ]

Are they good brownies?

[evasives]

Don't expect an apology. [ sells out his girlfriend's baking ability for the tease factor, yolo. ]

[ he unzips the little lunch bag he's carrying and pulls a brownie out, offering it over. he brought three of them for jyn, but marcos can have one. ]

Try for yourself.

illya

[myownwoman]

[ gaby walks in just in time to watch illya spit a piece of cake in the trash, raising her eyebrows as she strides across the bakery and takes a seat across from him without even asking. if you act like you belong, people treat you like you belong. that goes for both the bakery patrons and illya himself. ]

That was dramatic.

[ she takes a bite of the red cake, humming thoughtfully as she chews before she slides the plate directly in front of him. ]

Try this one.

[kgbs]

It's not made of salmon, is it?

[ weren't all forms of sweets supposed to taste good? how had these bakers managed to make a cake taste so terribly bad? ]

What's in it?

[myownwoman]

No, it tastes chocolatey.

[ gaby takes another bite so clearly the cake isn't disgusting. she'll eat the whole slice if he isn't going to eat any himself, she'll eat every slice. ]

Why do you have so many slices of cake?

[kgbs]

Because the baker heard that I was getting married and is apparently looking for a job.

[ illya shoots a glare towards the bakers behind the counter and shakes his head. ]

I do not even know if we should have cake now. Maybe we will just have steak.

[myownwoman]

[ gaby looks at him askance, fork hovering in the air. ]

Those two things are not... [ ILLYA PLS. ] You can have both. That is the beauty of dinner and dessert.

kovacs

[strove]

Wow, this on has a mouth on him. [The voice comes from Clarke, but it doesn't seem to be Clarke. Her body language is different: fluid, happy, carefree. The way she carries herself makes her seem taller and more indifferent. There's an easy light to her eyes.

If this is a bad dream, Clarke's own nightmare has come to visit: a mere personification of who Josephine is, wearing Clarke's face and skin like there's nothing to be done about it. In reality, there is no remnant of Josephine left inside of Clarke Griffin.

Except for the terror of being Josephine.]

While I like the spitting violence and all, I've always wondered about the effectiveness of torture. It's been proven to do little at all, though I can understand the ... appeal.

[resleeves]

Clarke?

[ that...he hasn't ever heard clarke sound like that. he hasn't ever heard clarke talk like that. it seems too loose, too lax for her. ]

What the fuck are you doing? Get out of here.

[ or help him. ]

[strove]

Hmmm. [Thoughtful. She eases closer. A manifestation of Clarke's fears. There is a very good chance that Clarke is close.] What is the purpose of this? I'll try to apply some constructive criticism.

[She's not going to answer Kovacs directly.]

[resleeves]

[ what the fuck is this about? kovacs stares and then tries to rear up and grab at her but he's too weak and he's tied down and dimi is right there anyway.

to hurt him he says like it should be the most obvious thing in the world. an eye for an eye. ]

What the fuck are you doing, Clarke? Is this a joke? Are you joking? It's really not the fucking time!

[strove]

Oh, about that—I'm not Clarke. [She offers him a smile.] I thought you heard about me. Josephine Lightbourne, but any friend of Clarke's can call me Josie.

[And then back to Dimi.]

Your long term goals are ... lacking, to say the least. As in, they seem very, very final in their potential execution.

december 22nd (post-zerzura)

[personalwar]

[ The plans have already been made, a quick exchange over the network. Jack knows that Illya will be here. He's not the sort of man who goes back on his word -- or at least, that's the impression that Jack has gotten from him so far. A severe, stoic Russian man he may be, but that also means he's the sort of person who sticks to his guns.

Jack arrived first -- and while he could watch the other fights going on, for once he isn't that interested in it. He could also jump into the ring himself while he waits, but instead he finds himself nursing a drink at the bar, keeping a careful eye on the door so that he doesn't miss Illya's arrival.

Despite the agreement they'd made to not talk about what happened in Zerzura, Jack finds himself thinking back on it all the same. Illya had been a professor of all things. It's the least likely outcome he could imagine for him, and yet neither of them had blinked at it at the time.

Jack slowly rotates his cup, watching the liquid swirl around, and then takes another sip. When he spots Illya step inside, he lifts the hand holding his drink to signal to him. ]

[kgbs]

[ he's been taking more fights since his return from zerzura. he doesn't know
if it's an attempt to get back into a routine or to convince himself that he is not that person. but, either which way, it's good to show his face there again since he was well known now and his involvement with the petrovs was due to his fighting prowess. so, he makes a point to be here and tonight is no different.

except in who his opponent will be. he's fought people he knows before but it still makes him a little more focused, a little more anticipatory than if he were to fight any person who chose to try and challenge him.

when he steps inside, it's easy to spot jack's signal and he makes his way over, greeting jack with a nod. ]

Good to see you.

[personalwar]

[ Given that this is something that the two of them specifically planned, Jack doesn't see anything wrong with having a friendly greeting before they hop into the ring together. The other people here are welcome to bet on them, but for Jack it doesn't have anything to do with the credits that might change hands.

It's a way to vent out frustrations, plain and simple. That, and he wants to see for himself what Illya is capable of; the best way to do that is to be on the receiving end of his strength and fighting prowess. ]

You too.

[ He takes a sip from his drink, then motions to the empty stool next to him at the bar. ]

Wanna get something to drink before we add our names to the queue?

[kgbs]

I do.

[ it's been a long few weeks and he believes that he's earned a drink so he waves down the bartender and orders vodka straight. he is russian, what do you expect? ]

You're doing well, I presume?

[personalwar]

[ Straight vodka, huh? No, he wouldn't expect anything less from someone with Russian heritage. If anything, Jack's glad for the sign that Illya's going to meet him tit-for-tat -- not just with drinking, but in the ring too.

It's that question that almost has him spitting out his drink. ]

I wouldn't go that far.

[ Illya's aware of what Zerzura made him believe. Jack doesn't think he needs to explain where his mind's been lately. Then again, Illya doesn't know his full story, but it's not something they need to discuss. Any conversation they want to have, they can have with their fists. ]