tushanshu_logs | September Catch-All for Klaus Von Reinherz

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September Catch-All for Klaus Von Reinherz

Characters: Klaus and YOU!
Date: September 2015 (2016 in game)
Location: Various
Situation: September (aaaand some of August probably) Catch-All
Warnings/Rating: Will be given as needed in the headers.

A. Closed to Enjolras and Backdated to 8/11

Klaus was hard to miss, especially in a fairly quiet cafe. He was seated with his back to a corner with a cup of something that might have once been coffee but the wanton use of cream and sugar and foam had mutated it into some sort of caffeinated abomination from sugar hell.

Klaus had a bit of a sweet tooth. The strawberry danish had never stood a chance.

Getting his phone charged had been a blessing. At the present time, he was playing a rousing game of Prosfair on it. Not against anyone but the phone itself, and it was a simplified version at that. He enjoyed it nonetheless, and it made for a pleasant distraction while he waited for Enjolras.

B. Closed to Raine - Cooking up a Storm (Hotel Kitchen)

It was, of course, a phenomenally bad idea. But it was something he'd have to learn to do for himself. He wasn't a child for God's sake, and Gilbert wasn't here to handle the cooking. It was embarrassing, really, that he'd never learned. He was perfectly good at any other sort of housework, but something about mixing ingredients and staying in one spot to make sure they didn't congeal was somehow beyond him.

That being said, Klaus tied the apron around his middle with the grim determination he reserved for dealing with the most unpleasant of vampires. He set his jaw, and picked up the small book of recipes, deciding to start with something simple.

How hard could pancakes be?

C. OPEN - Flower Shop (Wood District)

It was a small shop in the Wood District that had a smaller greenhouse attached to the back. The owner was an elderly Kedaan gentleman and he handled the floor of the shop. Klaus was being paid very handsomely to tend to the plants (and only the plants) on account of his rather... extreme features nearly sending an old woman into cardiac arrest.

That had been an interesting day. He'd mentally filed it under 'never speak of this again'. Much of that mental file seemed to have Zapp's name recurring frequently.

The afternoons were nigh unbearable, especially in the greenhouse, though you'd hardly know it looking at Klaus. He was more than content to see to the plants that were blooming beautifully in spite of the heat and drought.

He really had a green thumb.

D. OPEN - Daily Constitutional

He took a walk through and to various districts when the evenings were cool. He was getting a feel for the city the way he had a feel for Jerusalem's Lot. The ebb and flow of her people, the trends and lingo - Klaus found the best way to get over any culture shock was the act of simply immersing himself in it. He stopped at stalls and asked about wares, he wandered the back alleys quite sure no one would be keen to pick a fight.

In another month or so, he'd know the city well enough that he may as well have lived there all his life.

He may or may not have been keeping an eye out for any trouble with the city's most recent visitors. Klaus was a trusting man in general, and always willing to give the benefit of the doubt, but there was a low key tension that left him worried about what might happen next.

E. OPEN - Letter (forward dated to 9/16)

This makes it the third time in so many months.

Please consider some restraint. He would have been worth questioning.

Klaus was seated outside the Midnight Hotel on a stone bench. He stared at the small, neatly folded letter that bore his unmistakable handwriting. He stared at it for some time.

Then, with great care, he removed his spectacles and dragged his hands down his face with an exhale of frustration.

...This really was getting to be a bad habit.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Klaus wasn't long in the greenhouse. He emerged, pushing a wheelbarrow of compost. He was, for once, dressed down. He'd forgone a waistcoat, though he'd still had a collared shirt. It was red, and a bit faded, with the sleeves rolled up and no where near as well-tailored as his usual attire. His employer had provided him a long, green apron. He kept a few gardening tools in the deep pockets.

He hadn't noticed Lapis at first, more preoccupied with spreading the compost evenly for the outdoor plants. It was only when he paused to mop some sweat from his face with a handkerchief that he got a glimpse of blue behind one of the trees.

"...Good afternoon," he greeted, standing upright. "Are you alright?"

She peered around the tree at the sound of his voice -- wide, blue eyes that studied him, took him in. She was blue completely -- from hair to clothing to her bare, blue feet. And still poised, slightly forward on her toes, as though she were ready to take flight at any moment.

"It's Klaus . . . right?" Her voice was quiet, small. "It's . . . I'm Lapis."

Klaus nodded, his movements deliberately slow now that he noted the young lady's poise. She was the one from the network, and she looked even more skittish in person.

"That's right. I'm glad to finally meet you, Miss Lapis."

He stood, giving a small bow.

"Would you like to come in for some tea?"

She eased just a little at that. Emerging from behind the tree, she stepped forward, arms wrapping around herself. Her smile was small, but there -- a tiny, hesitant ghost of a thing.

"I don't really drink. But. Thank you."

He removed his gardening gloves and draped them over the handles of the wheel barrow. He moved it to the side so that the smell of rotting plant matter and eggshells didn't overwhelm.

"Are you more comfortable talking out here, Miss Lapis? Or would you prefer to go inside?"

. . . Hundreds of years trapped in a mirror weren't very good for one's communication skills. She thought she'd accepted his invitation by her thank you, but plainly it didn't come across that way. She paused a moment, caught off guard, as she retraced the conversation in her head.

"Inside is okay -- thank you."

She would follow him in if he went.

Klaus nodded, and led the way to the greenhouse. Despite the heat, he was much more comfortable among the plants and it would be harder for them to be overheard. Even though he doubted the Justicar would have much against plans from keeping the turtle from sinking, he disliked her having too much information.

He pulled up a chair for Lapis, and sat himself on the edge of a decorative stone fountain.

"Am I to surmise from our earlier conversation that you have something in mind, Miss Lapis?"

She followed him -- though entering, was immediately lost in the sudden onslaught to the senses that the greenhouse provided, staring in wonderment at the glossy green leaves that shone in the light filtering in through the glass above, trying to make sense of the tangle of scents drifting from the flowers, the damp soil, and the curiously thick aroma of lingering summer heat.

The sound of him setting the chair down tugged her back to reality, and shaking off the daze, she drifted further inward. The chair she regarded with some uncertainty, as though no one had ever brought such a thing for her, and she wasn't quite sure how to take the fact that someone had. After a moment of hesitation, she remained standing . . . next to it, as though she would figure out what to do with it later.

"This place . . ." She frowned slightly. "I don't know about this world. I don't know if it's good yet. But it doesn't seem right that this land should just sink. I want . . . to do what you said. Find a shallow place, and take the turtle there. Then everyone else can figure out how to wake him up."

"But I can't . . . I won't be able to do this on my own. There's a lot to do, and my powers can only take things so far. There has to be some kind of plan, and then more to move the turtle than just me. A lot more."

Without thought, her arms crept up around herself, her hands bracing her elbows. Her shoulders were thin, tight. "You . . . you seem to care what happens to this place. If you do . . ." Her lips pressed together tightly, briefly. "I want your help."

Klaus folded his hands in his lap, listening carefully as Lapis spoke. How did one deem if a world was 'good' or 'bad' he wondered.

"There are powerful people here," Klaus said when she had finished. "I have no doubt that an effort can be organized to move Tu Vishan. Though it might help if you could tell me what you're capable of and what you think you would need."

Moving the turtle was going to be a team effort, he knew that much. He hadn't known where to begin, however. It seemed Lapis was some manner of starting point.

All of this could end so badly at any moment. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she was putting trust in the wrong places. It wasn't too late yet to turn around, to turn back . . .

She closed her eyes briefly, trying to quell the whirl of her thoughts. A small quiver ran through her frame, her fingers tightening at her elbows.

"Can I trust you?"

Over the console, he had seemed . . . kind. It was the reason she was here now. But kindness was not a guarantee of freedom, of safety from betrayal or pain.

Words weren't either. But . . . it was a place to start.

"If I tell you . . . would you help me?"

"Yes," Klaus said simply. It was that sort of declaration that often earned him the ire of his subordinates. If someone said 'help', Klaus would agree to it.

Though he remembered that Lapis was not one of his co-workers and she probably had no idea what his reputation was back home. He needed to elaborate.

"If your goal is to help the people here, to keep Tu Vishan from sinking, then we are on the same side and I will do everything within my power to facilitate that endeavor. You have my word, Miss Lapis, I will not betray your trust."

She didn't know him or his reputation, no . . . but the calm assertion of his reply, unquestioning and firm in its weight, settled the sparks of uncertainty in her nerves. She could feel something inside herself uncoil, loosen. Her shoulders eased, lower slowly, that small ghost of a smile returning.

"Thank you." The words were very, very soft, but warmth seeped into them, through them. She meant it absolutely.

Extending a hand, she beckoned the water in the greenhouse towards her. Drips left over from Klaus' watering. Pools remaining in the bottoms of pots. The humid haze that hung in the air itself, hovering near the leaves. It came at her call, coalesced . . . and reformed into a replica of Klaus himself, standing motionless between them until suddenly, he bowed.

Ah.

Well.

Everything made sense now.

Recovering quickly from his astonishment, he bowed back to the water Klaus.

"You can control water. I take it to the extent that moving the turtle is in the realm of possibility with sufficient aid?"

He took a deep breath, very nearly smiling, though he was aware enough of his features to refrain from doing so. He didn't want to scare Lapis.

"I can call a meeting of the other foreigners as well as any locals to piece together a plan. Though it might help to know what you need."

"I can lift the turtle with the ocean." Her voice stayed quiet; this was calm statement of fact. "I can hold it for a long time. But what you showed on the map, anywhere we go from here closer to land, that's going to take days. Maybe longer. Not to mention wind and currents and weather and who knows what else." She pressed her lips together, her arms coming back around herself. "I don't usually plan things out. I just do them. But this . . . I can't do it myself, and there's too much that could go wrong. There's a lot that we'd need to know in advance. And then we'd need others -- a lot of others -- to help lift and steer and deal with whatever happens."

A breath. "I don't . . . I'm not . . ." Her lips came together tighter, and she wrestled for the words. "Steven . . . he'd want this. But people . . ."

A quick shake of the head, almost verging into a shudder. "I can't."

She didn't explain. But she withdrew back inwards on herself, shoulders tight and hunched again. The water-Klaus waited, expressionless.

"For now it would be enough to get us out of the current we're circling," Klaus explained gently, resting a hand very slowly on her shoulder. He hoped it would be some reassurance.

For someone that powerful to be so nervous... he didn't know what to think. She must have been through a nightmare.

"It doesn't have to be done all in one go. We have time," he continued. "And people will want to help. It's going to be alright."

The hand did startle her. She wasn't used to being touched, and those touches she did receive were not nearly as gentle. Without even considering it, the water-Klaus' hand came down on his counterpart's, heavy, tightening around the wrist. Warning. There was power in the grasp, as though the water-man would not take much to snap the bones. Lapis' breath gave a stop-start -- a quick little intake -- and for a single moment nothing moved, the water-man's grip hard around Klaus' wrist.

Then . . . release. Lapis' breath released, and the water-man's hand slipped away, light as mist or fog. Her eyes slipped back to him, flickering back to his face, eyes wide.

"Sorry." Another breath. "I don't . . . I won't . . ."

I won't hurt you.

But she wasn't sure of that. Not yet.

Her fingers reached up, grazed his hand -- would reach out towards it if he'd already withdrawn it. "Thank you."

For his touch, his trust . . . she couldn't say.

"How . . . should we start?"

Edited 2015-09-27 03:53 (UTC)

"It's alright," Klaus reassured, gently patting her shoulder. "You were startled. I understand."

He understood that feeling, like an animal constantly on the verge of lashing out at any extended hand; be it one seeking to help or harm. He had been there before. Those first couple of months had been... a struggle, to say the least.

Even now he felt his hold on his humanity was precarious at best. He had no intention of letting it go.

"Perhaps if I introduced you to others on a more individual basis? Mr Shudder, Mr Cain and Miss Sage are intelligent and kind people, and have a better understanding of the abilities other's here possess. Would that be alright?"

Hesitation on that. It meant more people. More people she knew, more people who knew her. Her goal, ultimately, was to leave this place, leave all those faces and names. She didn't need more people for that.

She wasn't good at them anyway.

The soul gem seemed particularly heavy around her wrist. Suddenly she was very aware of it, the delicate chain weighted against her skin.

"I . . . like the idea you gave before," she said at last. "About the meeting. Even though . . . I'm not really sure how I'm going to do that too. These people . . . how would they help in a way a meeting wouldn't?"

"They are kind and wise people," Klaus explained. "My apologies if this is forward but you don't seem well-accustomed to large groups. I thought perhaps an initial, smaller meeting might help with that."

He splayed his arms, palms up. "It is, however, entirely your decision and I will respect your choice on the matter."

Her eyes tugged away, staring into some point not far from them -- somewhere through a flowering bush. For a long moment they rested there, then slipped closed entirely as she dove away from him, retreated into herself. It was as though even in front of him, she was somewhere far away, listening to a conversation that only she could hear.

He let the silence linger for a while. Wherever Lapis had gone, it was not in the here and now. Something had clearly happened to this woman. What that was, Klaus couldn't be sure, but he gave her a moment to breathe.

When a little time had passed and Lapis wasn't coming back, Klaus touched her shoulder again, softer than the time before.

"Miss Lazuli?"

Her eyes came open again with some effort, landing first on his chest, then creeping back upward towards his face. In that moment she was very small. Exposed. Bare.

"I must be crazy." Her voice too was small. Distant. "I don't know how I'm going to do this. I just . . ." She grappled again for words -- against some enormity that was too large to confine to sounds and syllables.

"I'm . . . not good with people," she repeated at last. It wasn't what she wanted to say; the words were underneath the phrase, caustic and attempting to break through the surface. "Even if you say they're good . . ."

A breath. "I can't. Your friends. It took enough to come here. Right now . . . I just can't."

"You're not crazy," Klaus said with unwavering conviction. "I understand - and we have the luxury of time. It's alright to take things at a slow pace."

His tone was firm, and he hoped Lapis would understand. While they needed to sort out the situation with Tu Vishan in the near future, there was no need to rush (if anything that could make things disastrous).

"Would you be alright with me telling them about you at least?"

She nodded at that. First small (still distant), then firmer, more present.

Then, perhaps because she felt it merited some kind of explanation (or perhaps it was a second chance to explain: "For a very long time . . . I've been alone. I haven't . . . had to trust anyone for a long time. I want to believe it's a good idea -- trusting others. Steven, you . . . make me want to believe it could be good. I want to."

Her eyes were quiet, dark. "I haven't had . . . luck. With any more than that. For a very, very long time."

Edited 2015-10-16 01:54 (UTC)

Klaus folded his hands in his la and took a deep, steadying breath. It wasn't easy acknowledging these sorts of things - he knew that. He knew it very well.

"It is a good idea," Klaus said softly. "It is also very difficult. People are not always good at being understanding or kind and it's very easy to fall into a mindset that it's better to never trust at all than be hurt again and again."

Another breath, not as deep, but he looked down at his folded hands.

"It's not the case at all. It takes... time. And you will meet good people. It must have taken a great deal of courage for you to come here. You are very brave to take that step."

September Catch-All for Klaus Von Reinherz

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Oops. XD /rolls with it

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