I won't say no to some food. I'll be there in about twenty minutes.
[ Kim walks more quickly than he had accounted for; he is, in fact, there in fifteen. There are no obvious injuries on Kim, though he's clearly a little more scuffed up than usual, remnants of dust from collapsing concrete and plaster clinging to his hair, his forearms skinned and clothes dirtier and more rumpled than he generally cares to keep them. Mainly, though, he just looks tired.
No matter. Everyone looks tired after tonight. Kim was fortunate to have been spared from anything more than scratches and bruises, well equipped to face whatever the day throws at him tomorrow. He jogs over once he sees Harry, raising one hand in a little wave. ]
Good to see you're all right, [ he greets him. ] Was the kid you had to check up on okay?
[ Harry is no worse for wear than the baseline. There's a faint red spot coloring his face between his left eye and cheek, and he's sure it's going to look a lot worse in the coming days. At least he's used to his face being disgusting.
He's sitting on the steps that lead up to the entrance of Enma HQ, watching the scattered crowds pass by, until he spots the flash of orange in the distance waving a hand. Time to get back on his feet. ]
Yeah he was ok. He's part of the Enma Department, so they have him busy tonight. [ Dimitri is wound up so tight and Harry isn't sure if that's his natural state or if this incident has him shaken up. He takes a look over Kim, unsurprised he got roughed up, and sighs. ] Man. Did not expect political assassinations this early in.
[ Kim's not sure whether he's relieved he doesn't have to play clean-up for a change, or envious of him for being able to do something tangible. He'd helped plenty in the aftermath, but only as a voluntary citizen; it feels strange, wrong, to not have an official duty to do his part in keeping the peace.
With how tired he is now, he decides he feels relieved. Whether or not that's truly the case remains to be seen, but Kim has never been one to analyze his own emotions.
Kim lets out a short huff, not quite a laugh, but not not a laugh either. ]
Me neither. I was wondering, when they introduced themselves to everyone, if it would be wise for me to introduce myself as well, but... [ He waves a hand. ] Turns out it didn't matter anyway.
[ It's a particularly self-interested way of looking at things, but all things considered, Kim is incapable of looking at this as a personal tragedy instead of a political shake-up. ] I imagine Sutoku will be in shambles for a while.
[ EMPATHY - He understands well what it means to clean up after a major situation. Long nights, no respect. ]
Not that he had much to say. Spoke more in *symbols* than words.
[ There's a name to them that he doesn't recall in the moment. An expression of emotion through text. He likes it, though best conveyed when partnered with words. ]
Well Kim, it's a shame but this is just the way it is for communists. [ Another joke? Even he's not sure! ] C'mon, lets eat. Any thoughts on grub?
[ Kim hesitates for a moment as he considers whether or not he wants to correct Harry on the Daitengu's pronouns. On one hand, he knows it's objectively the correct thing to do. On the other, that would mean explaining gender to a man whose mind was recently blown by the concept of homosexuality.
Whatever, Kim decides. He's not sure if it's a means of genuine gender expression or an extension of their anonymity, and besides, they're dead now. ]
I don't think they were a communist. I think you decided that one. [ And as for food -- the eating here is incredible, but Kim's tiring of the single cuisine that dominates the city. ] I believe there's a diner around the block. Western-style, they call it. [ Whatever that means. What Kim does know is that their food is at least vaguely familiar. ] It's cheap too, so let's go see if they're even still open after all this.
[ With that, he leads the way to a shabby little diner around the corner, serving a variety of your run-of-the-mill burgers, soups and sandwiches as well as some creatively interpreted American cuisine, owned and run by a thankfully human-looking yokai. It's probably unkind of him to defer to businesses where the shopowners are recognizably human, but there's nothing like watching your waitress' neck suddenly stretch and travel around the entire restaurant to make you lose your appetite. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Let me know when you're done. I'll come to you.
no subject
[ That's the last text he sends for a good while. A little more than an hour later: ]
hey all good now.
im in front of the enma hq but not sticking around.
we should grab food.
no subject
[ Kim walks more quickly than he had accounted for; he is, in fact, there in fifteen. There are no obvious injuries on Kim, though he's clearly a little more scuffed up than usual, remnants of dust from collapsing concrete and plaster clinging to his hair, his forearms skinned and clothes dirtier and more rumpled than he generally cares to keep them. Mainly, though, he just looks tired.
No matter. Everyone looks tired after tonight. Kim was fortunate to have been spared from anything more than scratches and bruises, well equipped to face whatever the day throws at him tomorrow. He jogs over once he sees Harry, raising one hand in a little wave. ]
Good to see you're all right, [ he greets him. ] Was the kid you had to check up on okay?
no subject
He's sitting on the steps that lead up to the entrance of Enma HQ, watching the scattered crowds pass by, until he spots the flash of orange in the distance waving a hand. Time to get back on his feet. ]
Yeah he was ok. He's part of the Enma Department, so they have him busy tonight. [ Dimitri is wound up so tight and Harry isn't sure if that's his natural state or if this incident has him shaken up. He takes a look over Kim, unsurprised he got roughed up, and sighs. ] Man. Did not expect political assassinations this early in.
[ Is it appropriate to make dark jokes yet? ]
no subject
[ Kim's not sure whether he's relieved he doesn't have to play clean-up for a change, or envious of him for being able to do something tangible. He'd helped plenty in the aftermath, but only as a voluntary citizen; it feels strange, wrong, to not have an official duty to do his part in keeping the peace.
With how tired he is now, he decides he feels relieved. Whether or not that's truly the case remains to be seen, but Kim has never been one to analyze his own emotions.
Kim lets out a short huff, not quite a laugh, but not not a laugh either. ]
Me neither. I was wondering, when they introduced themselves to everyone, if it would be wise for me to introduce myself as well, but... [ He waves a hand. ] Turns out it didn't matter anyway.
[ It's a particularly self-interested way of looking at things, but all things considered, Kim is incapable of looking at this as a personal tragedy instead of a political shake-up. ] I imagine Sutoku will be in shambles for a while.
no subject
Not that he had much to say. Spoke more in *symbols* than words.
[ There's a name to them that he doesn't recall in the moment. An expression of emotion through text. He likes it, though best conveyed when partnered with words. ]
Well Kim, it's a shame but this is just the way it is for communists. [ Another joke? Even he's not sure! ] C'mon, lets eat. Any thoughts on grub?
no subject
Whatever, Kim decides. He's not sure if it's a means of genuine gender expression or an extension of their anonymity, and besides, they're dead now. ]
I don't think they were a communist. I think you decided that one. [ And as for food -- the eating here is incredible, but Kim's tiring of the single cuisine that dominates the city. ] I believe there's a diner around the block. Western-style, they call it. [ Whatever that means. What Kim does know is that their food is at least vaguely familiar. ] It's cheap too, so let's go see if they're even still open after all this.
[ With that, he leads the way to a shabby little diner around the corner, serving a variety of your run-of-the-mill burgers, soups and sandwiches as well as some creatively interpreted American cuisine, owned and run by a thankfully human-looking yokai. It's probably unkind of him to defer to businesses where the shopowners are recognizably human, but there's nothing like watching your waitress' neck suddenly stretch and travel around the entire restaurant to make you lose your appetite. ]