#kc_necropolis

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*Nick gets a text from Luke* "We should talk soon dude"

right - got money for you. right now staying with a friend. meet at the clubhouse or coffee?

"woods too far?"

"clubhouse ok if so"

nah - picnic area?

"tree"

cool. now? later?

"whenever you want, am there now"

oh. bts

"cool"

When he arrives, it's getting late, sun just starting to sink below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of brilliant orange, pink and red, fading to lavender at the edges. There is a definite smell of weed, drifting on the wind, as he approaches the spreading canopy of the tree he had left them at, only a scant -- was it only a week? before*

He sighs, looking... not so well rested. His eyes are reddened, as he approaches. Hey, he mutters.

"Hey, man." He's stretched out on a faded old quilt, head pillowed on his arm. Nearby is a pack. Bloodshot blue eyes take him in* "Man, you look like shit. You could have said no, dude."

It's fine. He holds up a hand. Just had a lot on my plate. What's up?

"Dude, want to talk about it? Not, like, gonna unload on a dude who already has a full plate."

He pinches out the blunt, and tucks it into his dreads, laying back again with head pillowed, staring blinking up into the leaves*

Naw, you might as well tell me what Jarrod did now, he says with a raise of his chin.

((Did he sit?))

((No.))

He sighs and rolls to standing, and picks up the pack. It goes over his shoulder, and he picks up and shakes out the quilt, doing a distracted quick-fold* "Don't worry about it, man. Sorry. Let me call you an Uber? On me, cool?"

Dude. It's fine. He grins. We pay for the magic we use. It just took a toll. I'm USED to it. Tell me. Especially if it's important.

"Don't know if it is, man." He tosses the quilt over his shoulder, and gives Nick a sidelong look* "Did the dude tell you, he like, is a murderer? I mean, not usually the kind of thing someone busts out after knowing a guy a week, tops, you know? And it's not cool with me, man. Not at all." No easygoing grins, or even a smile. He's troubled; the guy has never been able to hide an expression* "Especially when he like, follows it up with, 'Could be you', you know?"

He pauses, and sighs. He finally does sit down. On the grass. It's not.. that simple.

"Yeah, nothing has been. Like, maybe ignorance really is bliss, man, because shit is building up, you know?" He drops down, too. His leg jiggles restlessly* "So, like, you did know? And you still took Rain-girl there?"

"He got all over my shit for wanting to help her off meth, dude, and now this."

Weed or not, he's restlessly agitated, but it's only coming out in small things -- like the jiggling leg, the hand of the arm hooked around his knee tapping a tattoo on his thigh*

For the first thing. He's not a murderer. He holds up one finger. It's still the safest place for her as a magic user. second finger He's trying to scare the shit out of you.

"Yeah? Dude tells me he needs me there, then tries his damndest to scare me off? What the fuck, man? I mean, seriously?" *The eyes on Nick are bewildered rather than angry

He tries the same shit with everyone. Think it's some sort of ... test. He waves a hand.

"Yeah? And like, if it works, you fail?" His eyes seem to track -- something -- through the air, a slow movement. Or maybe he's just staring off into space, who can be sure?*

Talks about this dude named Kevin who kept him good. He looks up to the sky. I think we should find that one. Get him back on track.

"Yeah? According to deathdude, pod people walk amongst us, man, and he and this Kevin dude were spies in some secret war. This guy is, like, trapped there, and the pod people who aren't, like, actual pod people but look like anyone else and suck magic like spaghetti are out to get him. Like, dude. How am I supposed to help with that?" *Now, for the first time, the hint of a grin, even if accompanied by a headshake

"Maybe the guy should, like, learn to be a people person without some -- I don't know, man, shepherd?"

"He needs serious PR lessons."

We've... got some really shitty enemies. So that sounds about right. He snorts. You think I didn't try?

"Man, if this is him after you trying? I'd hate to have met the guy before." Finally, a real grin, although it fades a bit after a second. He turns back to staring at space, head turning slowly. His blue eyes dance from place to place. His fingers have stopped their rapid tapping, at least, and his leg-jiggle has slowed incrementally* "So, like, he wasn't joking about the pod people? What's the deal, man?"

"Like, who else is after you, and why, man? Did you guys, I don't know, do something to ask for it? No offense, but, dude, you don't seem like the fuck-with-people type, you know?"

Stressing 'you' -- he, Nick, does not seem like*

Yeah, well. He presses his lips together. First people we have to deal with are... people that'll try an' hide that magic exists. They'll try and change us or murder us. Or we have like... evil versions of ourselves. They just want to destroy. And sometimes. We go insane if we cast too much.

"Techno dudes, he talked about those. Yeah." His own expression squinches down, as if in sympathy*

"The guys who want things to stay in the box, man, I get it."

Since... you've been there. Y'should be aware of 'em. He pauses. Maybe... maybe you should tell me. If y'have any enemies that might chase US down.

"Me?" His eyes widen. They're pale, ice-blue* "Just the guys who are after Rain-girl. Can't think of anyone else, man. I try not to, like, screw with people, you know? Go along to get along, right?"

"Didn't like me selling on their corner, I guess, man. I don't know."

That's the problem with gangsters. Can't tell what pisses 'em off. He blinks. Wonder what Rain did.