"You're talking about Elijah Kamski? Can't say I know much about him, 'sides the whole 'father of androids' business." He doesn't really have much of an opinion on the matter, besides the obvious why is this happening to me? "Anyway age isn't so important when it comes to intelligence. I was made two years ago, after all. Who says some human teenager can't be that smart?"
Clearly, this is not an android that has ever met actual teenagers.
Kieren watches Kal heading around the storage rows, shaking his head. The guy's stuck in this cycle of money and bad people, and he can't seem to find any one person on which to saddle the blame, so that's what he falls back on? That somehow what's happening to him is CyberLife's fault? He's heard similar complaints from other humans in the past. "So you won't get legitimate work because...why, exactly? I don't understand. If the opportunity's there, why not take it?"
Okay, but seriously, why does it fucking matter? "'Cause if I fucking up and drop this, I'm gonna wake up dead with a bullet between the eyes?" It's short, quiet, a choke of air as his face flushes with the frustration of the whole goddamn thing. Why hasn't he sought out better work? Why hasn't he made the effort? Kieren is running parallels with the lectures he gets from his sister, and it is fucking weird and why is he so afraid?
Eyes dart forward and he trots ahead a few paces, peeking around the corner of a building. Just in case? Just in case.
They wouldn't take anyone like him, anyway. Shit, he doesn't have a diploma to his name because of some horse shit absentee policy. Why would they even breathe in his direction? Kal doesn't spew it, but there might be more than he lets on.
Kieren isn't even trying to lecture, is the worst part. He's legitimately curious, and he's worried for Kal in spite of only having known him for a couple of hours. He jogs to catch up, a little frustrated at being dismissed.
"Kal- hold on!" He huffs as he draws level. He quiets down as he peeks around the corner in kind, one hand curled into the back of Kal's shirt to keep himself steady. "Go on, I'll follow your lead."
Piss on bricks, he's just on a roll tonight, isn't he? He freezes when he hears Kieren hiss at him, and he stops all together to let the android catch up. Fuck, Kal knows he needs to cool it, but his mind is already racing and he feels like absolute shit. He stares at Kier for a minute, moment, a couple thoughts, and eventually he just, he just shrugs.
"Just slap me," that ain't an apology, Kal. Shifting his hold of the dolly, he reaches an arm to Kieren, something a bit more than a ragged tee to hold on to.
Kieren recoils a bit when Kal says that, though he doesn't make more fuss than that. He wraps his hand around Kal's arm and sticks close, at least until he's started making it difficult for the man to steer the dolly. He'd let go completely once they reached the SUV.
"D'you need any help here?" he asks as he eyes the supply of parts they'd loaded up on. He wants to go back through and scan to see how many of them are viable parts, and how many are just better off as scrap, but this was Kal's thing. He wouldn't get in the way if he didn't have to.
Okay, so Kal's only half-serious in the way that half-and-half is cream and milk combined, but somehow spared of sugar; he notes the recoil, but doesn't continue the half-joke on Kier's behalf. The pain helps though, and he'd kinda kill for the sting to take the edge off. Through some measure of miracle, the kid manages to push the dolly while Kieren holds to his arm, and it might have something to do with a smoking habit he hasn't indulged in because he fucking forgot the pack on the dash since meetin' the android.
"Nah, should be good. If you wanna climb in and kip, it's unlocked," he says as he pulls out his keys and thumbs the fob - the vehicle's lights flash once before the doors click, and he moves on to pop the trunk. The dash is already glowing, and the engine hums - barely - with a stroke of electricity. A beacon from the early '20s, before self-driving vics became the norm. Satelite radio kicks in with a post rock anthem, deep instrumental ballads kicking in with a vocalist coming down from the apex.
Overall, the SUV's in tough shape, but hell if it didn't come cheap, y'know? The seats are patched leather, dirty with almost a couple decades' worth of grime. Wipes are in the console, and it doesn't have as much dust as one would expect. Doesn't smell like much if your nose can overlook the scent of trash diving and heavy cigarettes. It comes with the territory though, comes with Kal, and it's reminiscent of the owner.
Kal starts loading up, enjoyin' the game of Tetris he has to play to get everything to fit. Doesn't leave anything behind; if it leaves VETA, it's going home. He eventually covers it with a tarp and carefully, carefully lifts the dolly in.
Takes a solid twenty minutes because it's late, he's kinda tired, and he's still fucking ruminating. He eventually closes the trunk door, comes around, and eases into the driver's seat. Buckles up, doesn't say much as he looks over his shoulder, starts reversing.
Kal dismisses him and opens the SUV, leaving Kieren to...do...something with himself. It takes him a moment to decide what, and eventually that turns out to be perching uncomfortably on the passenger seat with his hands in his lap, his leg nervously bouncing as he looks around the vehicle with a slightly worried little frown. He's a little better with the music playing, his LED cycling between yellow and blue as he reaches to turn it up a bit. He doesn't exactly like the inside of this vehicle, but it'd a decent match for its owner, who's clearly had it for a long time.
When the rear hatch thumps closed he glances around for the seatbelt, figuring he should pull it on in case there were antsy cops out The fewer reasons they gave anyone to stop them, the better.
A quick scan of Kal's profile when he gets into the truck tells him most of what he needs to know about Kal's demeanor, and Kieren sucks his lower lip into his mouth briefly, hands clasping together to keep them from fidgeting more. "I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable," he murmurs, eyes turning back to the windshield as the other pulls around to leave. He'd learn how to work with the man's mercurial moods, or he'd figure out living on his own. For right now, he just wants to make this work as long as he has to.
"It's not you, Kieren," Kal says, leaning forward to grab the sliding pack of cigarettes off the dash. He keeps one hand on the wheel while he fishes a stick out and pushes it between his lips. Nostrils flare with the exhale and he palms around the console for his lighter, a carbon gray zippo muddied with time.
Can't find it, he can't find it. There's a jeer as he can't decide whether or not he's upset or amused. Kal leans back, sliding the cigarette behind his ear instead. He looks at Kieren, focus dancing between the quiet streets as he navigates the fringes of Detroit proper.
"Do you have an idea what you wanna do? Beyond showering, I mean. Like big picture dreams and shit?" His own first thought is a show, but fuck, do androids listen to music? He doesn't catch that the radio runs a little louder than where he left it. It's a borderline religious experience, the thrum, the vibration, and he feels a little awkward, but hell if it doesn't make him long for it.
He smiles a little at the prospect of dragging him to one, but fuck, he's reflecting his wants on him. Both hands melt to the wheel as he drives, hoping for something beyond awkward silence, anger, and nerves.
Kieren watches him trying to find his lighter and tries to decide how he should feel about all this. He ends up still being unsure, but he's a little less anxious now. Only a little. It's still a droning in the background, thankfully mostly swallowed up by the track still playing. He chews a bit on the insides of his lips, eyes trailing down and settling on the shape of a flat grey something. He moves slowly, keeping one eye on Kal as he reaches to snag the thing off the floor.
The lighter he'd been looking for, before he'd given up and tucked the cigarette away. Kieren holds onto it, his hands folding around the old zippo until it's needed again.
"I d'know," he says quietly, turning the lighter over in his fingers. "'s probably stupid. I...I like art. Like, real art, not stuff in the ads and things. An' music..." He nods at the radio at that.
Kal's brow quirks when he sees the glint of the lighter between Kier's palms, but he doesn't make a move for it; nah, let him hold on to it. The weight's good, and it's helped him in a few hard stints. Something about the power in the naphtha, the smell of lighter fluid. For him, it's a sensory haven, and with the way their night's gone, he doesn't mind sharing it even if it means he can't get a lick of tobacco in his lungs.
"Figure that," he laughs; it's a small hiccup of noise, tendered by the music and the cool air that hits in rolled down windows. Shoulders lift on the inhale, and he leans back as he cuts the wheel and takes them down a block dotted with lamp posts. "I dig it. Ain't stupid in the smallest, if that's the kinda shit that makes your system buzz. Music's good, art's over my head. You been to a museum before?"
He stops to actually think about that, and he clicks his teeth for a moment. "What was your prerogative before, Kieren? Ain't nothin' you gotta sit on me if you don't want, figure some shit's left buried," back to his demons, Kal's demons, the cat's. There's a way he can get into a museum, and for a moment he thinks of the effort it'd take to hit the east and drag Kieren along the coast.
Wouldn't mind that, Kal. It's weird, and thoughtful, and he doesn't linger long on it as he's pullin' down a dirt road.
The gentle encouragement toward the things he likes is kind of nice. Once, they'd been programmed lines, a predilection that could be latched onto for conversation or foreplay. Now, it feels lighthearted. Like it matters on a much gentler level. It strikes him as odd that Kal has to ask that. He doesn't know the specific functions of models like Kieren apparently, and that makes this just a little uncomfortable.
"I've never been to a museum, no," he replies quietly, flipping the lid of the zippo open, then closed, open, closed. "I was a host. Of the companion variety." No way he would show Kal, but he'd been designed to be anatomically correct, for the sole purpose of client satisfaction. He doesn't linger on the thought long.
"What about you? D'you like going out to places like that? Maybe not museums, but...other places, in the city. Or even travelling. I'd like to travel some day, when there aren't so many restrictions."
Kal pauses, gentle on the breaks as they come up to the trailer, head turning toward the android as he tries to piece it together. A host? Like, at a restaurant? Of the companion variety. It takes the guy a solid minute, and Kieren can witness every receiver processing his statement.
Oh.
Well, it's either hot or Kal's ready to vom, because his cheeks are a weird amalgamation of fiery red, and he wipes his nose as he directly moves on. No hooker joke. No sex joke. None of that shit. He just shifts into park and thinks on what he does.
"Museums make me tired, but I'd suffer one if not jus' to see your face. I usually dig music, venues, bars, the live stuff when I've got the cash." Does he want to mention his sister out east? The drive? The fleeting thought?
Ain't fleeting if it stays, Kal.
He puts the SUV into park and eases off the break, flagging fingers toward the dingy trailer at the ass end of a dirt-shorn trailer park. A yellow light flickers, bugs dancing beneath the rays, and through the window, a flicker of dancing light. "Mi casa, su casa. Kinda wanna fuckin' leave everything in till the A.M.," he snores, throwing his head back against the headrest.
Kieren's not terribly sure if he should be as anxious as he is, given the lack of immediate commentary on his prior forced occupation. he's still chewing fitfully on his lips, replacing it with his thumbnail. It's probably just a can of worms that Kal really doesn't want to open right now. Likewise he's not sure how to interpret the offer to visit a museum with him, and simply stays quiet, though there's a strangely warm sensation behind his thirium regulator that is at the same time familiar and foreign.
His expression is a little distant as another voice plays in his memory. An offer to take him out on a proper date.
He snaps back as Kal fake-snores, blinking once and arching a brow at the human then shaking his head with a quiet breath of a laugh. "We'll leave things til the morning then," he replies, then glances around the trailer park. It's not exactly what he was expecting. Maybe the inside of the trailer would be more inviting...
"We'll bring in the jars, get you up and fully going," man, he's hard to convince - he arches back into the seat, stretching while he unfastens the buckle. He palms Kieren's shoulder, pats him to follow suite as he hops out. The electric engine simmers into silence as he opens the hatch.
He motions for help, a small and leisurely swing of the forearm as he beckons Kier. "Come take one, I'll carry the other two," although the choice is entirely Kieren's, whether or not he wants to help. Kal climbs into the back and gingerly stretched over the tarp, squeezing both hands around the ruck. It takes a little more work than he anticipated, sweat beading as he keeps his knees rooted against the edge of the vehicle.
Gets it with a grunt, the ruck with the two jars. He reaches to get the third and holds it out like a child.
When they eventually get to the door, Kal jostled the key and shoulders his way in, using his foot to keep the door open for Kieren. It's a small trailer with an open living room and kitchen - clean. A little yellow from the warm flourescents Kal flops on, but not dirty. To their immediate left, a door at the end of a squat hall sits ajar, and the bathroom sits open and empty of light.
Bookshelves line the perimeter of the living room, full of totes and baskets and books. The television, a small flat screen, sits on a trunk against the biggest shelf, and across from it, a sofa green and patched, draped with fleece throws.
An LED hums into yellow, then brief flits of red, as the head of a blond android turns, face half void of synthskin, jaw missing. It, she, she is dressed in a hoodie with a scarf, blanket across where her lap should have been. No limbs, just sleeves.
There's a clicking from the android's throat,and Kal hums, "Ivy, Kieren. Kier, Ivory. Been a good night, Ivy?" He asks as he makes a break for the small, square table that divides the space. Sitting the jars down, he turns.
Kieren isn't totally certain how he can really help without getting in the way here, but he does take one of the jars, and one of the bags that he can shoulder to take inside. He lingers back until Kal is ready to head inside then steps in as the door is held open, stopping a couple of feet inside the door.
The first thing that occurs to him is that it's cleaner than he was expecting. It's a nice surprise, and he's careful not to let it register in his expression as he scans his surroundings. He stops upon seeing Ivory, lips parting in concern but lack of knowing what to say about a jawless torso watching him from the sofa.
"Hullo," he says quietly, lifting a hand in an awkward sort of wave. When Kal was saying he couldn't find components for her, he was expecting at least something a little more complete than that... "Ehm. He...he found me, offered a place to kip for the night," he explains, looking back around at the door as it closes behind him. At least he doesn't seem nervous, just a little nonplussed. He registers Ivory still watching him curiously, and lets the skin slip back from his fingers in clarification.
Her LED whirls with gold as she processes the sight of the android in front of the door, and the one functioning eye flashes a blink as something rattles in her chest. Kal leans against the table after wetting a rag, wiping his hands as he watches the pair. Ivory's head bobs in a nod, affirming her comprehension.
She then returns attention toward the television, LED flickering for a moment longer - Kieren will feel a gentle push notification to the forefront, fragmented and small:
01101001 01101110 01100111 he!Lo process01101001 01101110 01100111 designation nME found you ho ... hoME, welcome. do you wish to SIT?
He gives the cloth a toss to the sink, moving past Kieren and beckoning him over toward the bedroom door. "Let's get you clothes and a towel, yeah?"
Kieren's LED cycles between blue and yellow as he receives the slightly incomplete message, brow furrowing. Something must be damaged in her processors if her communication isn't fluid like most. He glances between Ivory and Kal, moving to follow after him.
I'll come sit with you, but first I'd like to clean up. His sweater is unpleasantly grimy and my sensors don't process it correctly.
He lingers in the doorway of Kal's room after putting down the salvage. Waiting, he's good at. Before now he'd spent a good deal of his life simply waiting, and at least now he can do so in the open.
"D'you need help finding things? For her," he says quietly, nodding his head back toward the android on the couch. "If I had a list of what's missing, I could...probably help."
There is a ping of acknowledgment a received in the midst of rolling code. It lacks transcription, its language at least two versions earlier than his, and with the corrupt patches of information, it's indecipherable. It's something though, that Kieren responds, reaching out to a system that hasn't connected with another in months, and a repetition of two distinct letters in binary reflect her amusement.
She computes, understands. The television flickers and a show resumes from its commercial break. She does not reach out again, not yet.
Meanwhile, Kal flips the switch and stalks through the room, his bed a mess of blankets and pillows in some mock pretense of cleanliness - if flattening the comforter over a mess counts as a made bed. Kid beelines for a corner closet, and he opens it. He makes a noise when Kieren asks about Ivory, about the need for help, and there's a stifled yawn he buries into his elbow as he nods, "If you're ken on helpin', sure. I ain't got much of a list goin' for her, nothin' like compatible component serials and shit like that. Got pictures of the ports though, if that helps."
He pulls out a charcoal tee that he brings to his face, smells deep before nodding. Shit's clean. Trousers? He opts for a pair of flannel pajama pants that he knows were washed an' dried a couple days ago - not that pajamas aren't his thing, it's jus', when you're on your own, it helps save costs to not bother.
He makes a mental note to spare Kieren the sight and actually wear clothes to bed. Careful to fold the clothes on the bed so as to not dirty 'em further with any blue he missed during the initial wipe, he gestures for Kieren to come in.
"Think these'll work for you? I got denim, but tha's your call," and leather too; it's a motley collection of solid colors and sparse patterns, dark blue and black and gray dominating the wardrobe.
Kieren makes a thoughtful sound and rubs his fingers together as he thinks, then shrugs a shoulder. He could probably access Ivory's information directly and find a compatible list on his own. It would make Kal's life easier, and Kieren figures he owes the man a debt after hauling him out of the pit.
There's an instant of hesitation when Kal gestures for him to come into the room, but Kieren covers it easily as he looks from the clothes to the closet. He can't really say much by way of preference, though he does know what he likes in a broad sense. For now though, he's comfortable in whatever Kal sees fit to lend him.
"'s fine," he replies quietly, taking the clothes gingerly and holding them out a bit from his body to keep from getting them dirty, still smudged with dirt and thirium as he is. "I'll jus'...go take that shower then." He nods once before retreating to the dark bathroom, only flipping the light on as an afterthought. He would be in here for upwards of an hour, or at least as long as the hot water held out.
Once Kieren stakes claim of the loo, Kal shuts the closet doors and makes his way out of the bedroom. "If you need anything, check under the sink or give me a shout," he says, rapping knuckles against the bathroom - he's just as quickly gone, retrieving a spare lighter before heading outside to sit on the porch to light up his cigarette and fuck around on his phone.
It's an all right end to a day, but his stomach is winding up, ready to knock a ham and cheese sandwich up north of his stomach. The fuck's he gonna do about Crom? Doesn't want to ask Soph, but fuck, Kal doesn't wanna show up empty handed. She's done him good in the past, and a couple hundred ain't no rocket science. He reckons he might be able to swing half in cash with Soph and a jar of blue, but Kier needs the shit and when's the last time he checked Ivory's supply?
His cheeks hollow as he steals a drag off the butt, glancing toward the screen door. Gotta start somewhere, yeah? He thumbs his phone, forces a call despite it bein' 2 in th' morning. A groggy grunt receives him, and amidst the sounds of cheap air conditioners and crickets and old folks coughing up a lung, Kal speaks in an apologetic hush with his sister while indulging in a couple clove cigs. It's almost serene, if it wasn't for the image of Cromwell cracking a crowbar down burning in his head.
While Kal is outside and distracted he'd probably very well miss the sound of the shower turning off and a new gait moving through his trailer. The door opens behind him and Kieren stands silently in the amber glow of the overhead light and its swarm of bugs making shadows dance over nearly iridescently pale skin. A scan of Kal, even without the man facing him, tells him a lot about the intense worry, the line of his shoulders and the way he speaks into the phone borderline fear.
So Kieren settles down on the porch beside him with his legs crossed, hands coming together in the little space between his ankles and thighs. He's wearing the comfortable sweats and a shirt a little too small for him, loose but riding up some around his midriff. Without the grime of the Veta landfill in it, his chosen hair color is a vivid strawberry blonde, a curling fluff over his brow. He watches Kal with a soft, worried frown, but he doesn't reach out just yet.
The discourse Kieren's bent on hearin' as he hovers is somethin' akin to a family script. This is neither the first nor the last time Kal has done this, and from the sounds of the husky feminine voice on the other side, groggy and made barren by bein' woke at so early an hour, his beggin' is gettin' him a fair bit nowhere. Urgency enunciates his words, laces them with a dose of gravity - and she, she spits back that the kid be best off finding other work, what about the other few hundred he's taken out of her wallet?
It's when the android settles down beside him, purged of abyssal layers of filth, that they finally make progress. Kal relents, fishing another cigarette out and giving Kieren a tip of the head as he gently, carefully, butts an elbow into him; he smiles, albeit a tad forced and with no credit to his mood, and doesn't bother lighting up as the voice on the other end murmurs. "Half?" He repeats; she confirms.
Better than nothing. Much better than zilch, zero, nil. A weight's lifted, and before she has the air and wit to cajole him about Detroit and his pilgrimage west, he bids her thanks and hangs up. He wipes his mouth, tucks the stick behind his ear again, and exhales the breath he's held for minutes now. Green eyes flip to Kieren, and he stares at him a moment longer than he likely should, laughs because he's not sure what he was expecting. "Aren't you a type, man? Feeling better?"
Edited (Ain't either, ain't neither; it butchered the language a little too much for my taste. ) Date: 2018-08-28 07:58 pm (UTC)
Kieren tunes out as best he can, trying not to be nosy as Kal works something out with the woman on the other end of the line. He returns the nudge to his elbow when it comes, not exactly convinced by the halfassed smile Kal tries to offer him. He doesn't speak up until Kal has ended the call in the hopes of keeping the questions to a minimum.
He's not certain how to take the comment on his appearance, but the false skin across his cheeks colors slightly, a programmed response to stimuli akin to fluster, as well as other, more intimate reactions. Almost like an honest blush. "Better," he agrees, looking down at the porch beneath them rather than focusing on how interesting the color of Kal's eyes is under warm lighting. "What about you? That didn't sound... You don't look happy about it."
"That," well, that is a long story, isn't it? Kal's nostrils flare with his inhale as he pushes his palms against his lap and leans back into the porch. One leg drops and the other follows as he sprawls, looking up before shrugging. "It's, it's nothing. Just a bunch of shit coming to fruition, reap what you sow, you know?" And in his case, bad habits plant the worst seeds.
He regards Kier with another look, a contemplative gander as he tries to piece a plan together. "Reckon you mind sleepin' in my room for the night? I'll kip on the couch, I just got a nagging feeling someone's gonna be knocking early, and I'd rather spare you the bullshit."
Kieren picks some at his nails, debating whether or not to push the issue, at least until Kal offers the use of his room. He opens his mouth to point out that he doesn't actually need to sleep, or even to lie down to rest, but wisely closes it again and shrugs a shoulder.
"If...If you're sure. Thank you," he replies quietly, pushing himself back up again and offering Kal his hand to help him back to his feet. Maybe the time alone would help him decide what to do next.
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no subject
Date: 2018-08-23 01:54 am (UTC)Clearly, this is not an android that has ever met actual teenagers.
Kieren watches Kal heading around the storage rows, shaking his head. The guy's stuck in this cycle of money and bad people, and he can't seem to find any one person on which to saddle the blame, so that's what he falls back on? That somehow what's happening to him is CyberLife's fault? He's heard similar complaints from other humans in the past. "So you won't get legitimate work because...why, exactly? I don't understand. If the opportunity's there, why not take it?"
no subject
Date: 2018-08-23 02:04 am (UTC)Eyes dart forward and he trots ahead a few paces, peeking around the corner of a building. Just in case? Just in case.
They wouldn't take anyone like him, anyway. Shit, he doesn't have a diploma to his name because of some horse shit absentee policy. Why would they even breathe in his direction? Kal doesn't spew it, but there might be more than he lets on.
"SUV's up ahead. We're good."
no subject
Date: 2018-08-23 02:11 am (UTC)"Kal- hold on!" He huffs as he draws level. He quiets down as he peeks around the corner in kind, one hand curled into the back of Kal's shirt to keep himself steady. "Go on, I'll follow your lead."
no subject
Date: 2018-08-23 02:20 am (UTC)"Just slap me," that ain't an apology, Kal. Shifting his hold of the dolly, he reaches an arm to Kieren, something a bit more than a ragged tee to hold on to.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-23 02:39 am (UTC)"D'you need any help here?" he asks as he eyes the supply of parts they'd loaded up on. He wants to go back through and scan to see how many of them are viable parts, and how many are just better off as scrap, but this was Kal's thing. He wouldn't get in the way if he didn't have to.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-23 08:19 am (UTC)Okay, so Kal's only half-serious in the way that half-and-half is cream and milk combined, but somehow spared of sugar; he notes the recoil, but doesn't continue the half-joke on Kier's behalf. The pain helps though, and he'd kinda kill for the sting to take the edge off. Through some measure of miracle, the kid manages to push the dolly while Kieren holds to his arm, and it might have something to do with a smoking habit he hasn't indulged in
because he fucking forgot the pack on the dashsince meetin' the android."Nah, should be good. If you wanna climb in and kip, it's unlocked," he says as he pulls out his keys and thumbs the fob - the vehicle's lights flash once before the doors click, and he moves on to pop the trunk. The dash is already glowing, and the engine hums - barely - with a stroke of electricity. A beacon from the early '20s, before self-driving vics became the norm. Satelite radio kicks in with a post rock anthem, deep instrumental ballads kicking in with a vocalist coming down from the apex.
Overall, the SUV's in tough shape, but hell if it didn't come cheap, y'know? The seats are patched leather, dirty with almost a couple decades' worth of grime. Wipes are in the console, and it doesn't have as much dust as one would expect. Doesn't smell like much if your nose can overlook the scent of trash diving and heavy cigarettes. It comes with the territory though, comes with Kal, and it's reminiscent of the owner.
Kal starts loading up, enjoyin' the game of Tetris he has to play to get everything to fit. Doesn't leave anything behind; if it leaves VETA, it's going home. He eventually covers it with a tarp and carefully, carefully lifts the dolly in.
Takes a solid twenty minutes because it's late, he's kinda tired, and he's still fucking ruminating. He eventually closes the trunk door, comes around, and eases into the driver's seat. Buckles up, doesn't say much as he looks over his shoulder, starts reversing.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-23 07:49 pm (UTC)When the rear hatch thumps closed he glances around for the seatbelt, figuring he should pull it on in case there were antsy cops out The fewer reasons they gave anyone to stop them, the better.
A quick scan of Kal's profile when he gets into the truck tells him most of what he needs to know about Kal's demeanor, and Kieren sucks his lower lip into his mouth briefly, hands clasping together to keep them from fidgeting more. "I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable," he murmurs, eyes turning back to the windshield as the other pulls around to leave. He'd learn how to work with the man's mercurial moods, or he'd figure out living on his own. For right now, he just wants to make this work as long as he has to.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-23 08:46 pm (UTC)Can't find it, he can't find it. There's a jeer as he can't decide whether or not he's upset or amused. Kal leans back, sliding the cigarette behind his ear instead. He looks at Kieren, focus dancing between the quiet streets as he navigates the fringes of Detroit proper.
"Do you have an idea what you wanna do? Beyond showering, I mean. Like big picture dreams and shit?" His own first thought is a show, but fuck, do androids listen to music? He doesn't catch that the radio runs a little louder than where he left it. It's a borderline religious experience, the thrum, the vibration, and he feels a little awkward, but hell if it doesn't make him long for it.
He smiles a little at the prospect of dragging him to one, but fuck, he's reflecting his wants on him. Both hands melt to the wheel as he drives, hoping for something beyond awkward silence, anger, and nerves.
no subject
Date: 2018-08-24 01:22 am (UTC)The lighter he'd been looking for, before he'd given up and tucked the cigarette away. Kieren holds onto it, his hands folding around the old zippo until it's needed again.
"I d'know," he says quietly, turning the lighter over in his fingers. "'s probably stupid. I...I like art. Like, real art, not stuff in the ads and things. An' music..." He nods at the radio at that.
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Date: 2018-08-24 02:06 am (UTC)"Figure that," he laughs; it's a small hiccup of noise, tendered by the music and the cool air that hits in rolled down windows. Shoulders lift on the inhale, and he leans back as he cuts the wheel and takes them down a block dotted with lamp posts. "I dig it. Ain't stupid in the smallest, if that's the kinda shit that makes your system buzz. Music's good, art's over my head. You been to a museum before?"
He stops to actually think about that, and he clicks his teeth for a moment. "What was your prerogative before, Kieren? Ain't nothin' you gotta sit on me if you don't want, figure some shit's left buried," back to his demons, Kal's demons, the cat's. There's a way he can get into a museum, and for a moment he thinks of the effort it'd take to hit the east and drag Kieren along the coast.
Wouldn't mind that, Kal. It's weird, and thoughtful, and he doesn't linger long on it as he's pullin' down a dirt road.
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Date: 2018-08-24 02:28 am (UTC)"I've never been to a museum, no," he replies quietly, flipping the lid of the zippo open, then closed, open, closed. "I was a host. Of the companion variety." No way he would show Kal, but he'd been designed to be anatomically correct, for the sole purpose of client satisfaction. He doesn't linger on the thought long.
"What about you? D'you like going out to places like that? Maybe not museums, but...other places, in the city. Or even travelling. I'd like to travel some day, when there aren't so many restrictions."
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Date: 2018-08-24 02:38 am (UTC)Kal pauses, gentle on the breaks as they come up to the trailer, head turning toward the android as he tries to piece it together. A host? Like, at a restaurant? Of the companion variety. It takes the guy a solid minute, and Kieren can witness every receiver processing his statement.
Oh.
Well, it's either hot or Kal's ready to vom, because his cheeks are a weird amalgamation of fiery red, and he wipes his nose as he directly moves on. No hooker joke. No sex joke. None of that shit. He just shifts into park and thinks on what he does.
"Museums make me tired, but I'd suffer one if not jus' to see your face. I usually dig music, venues, bars, the live stuff when I've got the cash." Does he want to mention his sister out east? The drive? The fleeting thought?
Ain't fleeting if it stays, Kal.
He puts the SUV into park and eases off the break, flagging fingers toward the dingy trailer at the ass end of a dirt-shorn trailer park. A yellow light flickers, bugs dancing beneath the rays, and through the window, a flicker of dancing light. "Mi casa, su casa. Kinda wanna fuckin' leave everything in till the A.M.," he snores, throwing his head back against the headrest.
Nah, kid, you got work.
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Date: 2018-08-24 08:27 pm (UTC)His expression is a little distant as another voice plays in his memory. An offer to take him out on a proper date.
He snaps back as Kal fake-snores, blinking once and arching a brow at the human then shaking his head with a quiet breath of a laugh. "We'll leave things til the morning then," he replies, then glances around the trailer park. It's not exactly what he was expecting. Maybe the inside of the trailer would be more inviting...
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Date: 2018-08-24 09:18 pm (UTC)He motions for help, a small and leisurely swing of the forearm as he beckons Kier. "Come take one, I'll carry the other two," although the choice is entirely Kieren's, whether or not he wants to help. Kal climbs into the back and gingerly stretched over the tarp, squeezing both hands around the ruck. It takes a little more work than he anticipated, sweat beading as he keeps his knees rooted against the edge of the vehicle.
Gets it with a grunt, the ruck with the two jars. He reaches to get the third and holds it out like a child.
When they eventually get to the door, Kal jostled the key and shoulders his way in, using his foot to keep the door open for Kieren. It's a small trailer with an open living room and kitchen - clean. A little yellow from the warm flourescents Kal flops on, but not dirty. To their immediate left, a door at the end of a squat hall sits ajar, and the bathroom sits open and empty of light.
Bookshelves line the perimeter of the living room, full of totes and baskets and books. The television, a small flat screen, sits on a trunk against the biggest shelf, and across from it, a sofa green and patched, draped with fleece throws.
An LED hums into yellow, then brief flits of red, as the head of a blond android turns, face half void of synthskin, jaw missing. It, she, she is dressed in a hoodie with a scarf, blanket across where her lap should have been. No limbs, just sleeves.
There's a clicking from the android's throat,and Kal hums, "Ivy, Kieren. Kier, Ivory. Been a good night, Ivy?" He asks as he makes a break for the small, square table that divides the space. Sitting the jars down, he turns.
Mi casa, su casa.
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Date: 2018-08-26 01:37 am (UTC)The first thing that occurs to him is that it's cleaner than he was expecting. It's a nice surprise, and he's careful not to let it register in his expression as he scans his surroundings. He stops upon seeing Ivory, lips parting in concern but lack of knowing what to say about a jawless torso watching him from the sofa.
"Hullo," he says quietly, lifting a hand in an awkward sort of wave. When Kal was saying he couldn't find components for her, he was expecting at least something a little more complete than that... "Ehm. He...he found me, offered a place to kip for the night," he explains, looking back around at the door as it closes behind him. At least he doesn't seem nervous, just a little nonplussed. He registers Ivory still watching him curiously, and lets the skin slip back from his fingers in clarification.
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Date: 2018-08-26 01:58 am (UTC)She then returns attention toward the television, LED flickering for a moment longer - Kieren will feel a gentle push notification to the forefront, fragmented and small:
01101001 01101110 01100111 he!Lo process01101001 01101110 01100111 designation nME found you ho ... hoME, welcome. do you wish to SIT?
He gives the cloth a toss to the sink, moving past Kieren and beckoning him over toward the bedroom door. "Let's get you clothes and a towel, yeah?"
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Date: 2018-08-26 10:11 pm (UTC)I'll come sit with you, but first I'd like to clean up. His sweater is unpleasantly grimy and my sensors don't process it correctly.
He lingers in the doorway of Kal's room after putting down the salvage. Waiting, he's good at. Before now he'd spent a good deal of his life simply waiting, and at least now he can do so in the open.
"D'you need help finding things? For her," he says quietly, nodding his head back toward the android on the couch. "If I had a list of what's missing, I could...probably help."
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Date: 2018-08-26 11:37 pm (UTC)She computes, understands. The television flickers and a show resumes from its commercial break. She does not reach out again, not yet.
Meanwhile, Kal flips the switch and stalks through the room, his bed a mess of blankets and pillows in some mock pretense of cleanliness - if flattening the comforter over a mess counts as a made bed. Kid beelines for a corner closet, and he opens it. He makes a noise when Kieren asks about Ivory, about the need for help, and there's a stifled yawn he buries into his elbow as he nods, "If you're ken on helpin', sure. I ain't got much of a list goin' for her, nothin' like compatible component serials and shit like that. Got pictures of the ports though, if that helps."
He pulls out a charcoal tee that he brings to his face, smells deep before nodding. Shit's clean. Trousers? He opts for a pair of flannel pajama pants that he knows were washed an' dried a couple days ago - not that pajamas aren't his thing, it's jus', when you're on your own, it helps save costs to not bother.
He makes a mental note to spare Kieren the sight and actually wear clothes to bed. Careful to fold the clothes on the bed so as to not dirty 'em further with any blue he missed during the initial wipe, he gestures for Kieren to come in.
"Think these'll work for you? I got denim, but tha's your call," and leather too; it's a motley collection of solid colors and sparse patterns, dark blue and black and gray dominating the wardrobe.
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Date: 2018-08-27 07:44 pm (UTC)There's an instant of hesitation when Kal gestures for him to come into the room, but Kieren covers it easily as he looks from the clothes to the closet. He can't really say much by way of preference, though he does know what he likes in a broad sense. For now though, he's comfortable in whatever Kal sees fit to lend him.
"'s fine," he replies quietly, taking the clothes gingerly and holding them out a bit from his body to keep from getting them dirty, still smudged with dirt and thirium as he is. "I'll jus'...go take that shower then." He nods once before retreating to the dark bathroom, only flipping the light on as an afterthought. He would be in here for upwards of an hour, or at least as long as the hot water held out.
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Date: 2018-08-27 09:15 pm (UTC)It's an all right end to a day, but his stomach is winding up, ready to knock a ham and cheese sandwich up north of his stomach. The fuck's he gonna do about Crom? Doesn't want to ask Soph, but fuck, Kal doesn't wanna show up empty handed. She's done him good in the past, and a couple hundred ain't no rocket science. He reckons he might be able to swing half in cash with Soph and a jar of blue, but Kier needs the shit and when's the last time he checked Ivory's supply?
His cheeks hollow as he steals a drag off the butt, glancing toward the screen door. Gotta start somewhere, yeah? He thumbs his phone, forces a call despite it bein' 2 in th' morning. A groggy grunt receives him, and amidst the sounds of cheap air conditioners and crickets and old folks coughing up a lung, Kal speaks in an apologetic hush with his sister while indulging in a couple clove cigs. It's almost serene, if it wasn't for the image of Cromwell cracking a crowbar down burning in his head.
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Date: 2018-08-28 01:59 am (UTC)So Kieren settles down on the porch beside him with his legs crossed, hands coming together in the little space between his ankles and thighs. He's wearing the comfortable sweats and a shirt a little too small for him, loose but riding up some around his midriff. Without the grime of the Veta landfill in it, his chosen hair color is a vivid strawberry blonde, a curling fluff over his brow. He watches Kal with a soft, worried frown, but he doesn't reach out just yet.
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Date: 2018-08-28 08:37 am (UTC)It's when the android settles down beside him, purged of abyssal layers of filth, that they finally make progress. Kal relents, fishing another cigarette out and giving Kieren a tip of the head as he gently, carefully, butts an elbow into him; he smiles, albeit a tad forced and with no credit to his mood, and doesn't bother lighting up as the voice on the other end murmurs. "Half?" He repeats; she confirms.
Better than nothing. Much better than zilch, zero, nil. A weight's lifted, and before she has the air and wit to cajole him about Detroit and his pilgrimage west, he bids her thanks and hangs up. He wipes his mouth, tucks the stick behind his ear again, and exhales the breath he's held for minutes now. Green eyes flip to Kieren, and he stares at him a moment longer than he likely should, laughs because he's not sure what he was expecting. "Aren't you a type, man? Feeling better?"
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Date: 2018-08-28 08:28 pm (UTC)He's not certain how to take the comment on his appearance, but the false skin across his cheeks colors slightly, a programmed response to stimuli akin to fluster, as well as other, more intimate reactions. Almost like an honest blush. "Better," he agrees, looking down at the porch beneath them rather than focusing on how interesting the color of Kal's eyes is under warm lighting. "What about you? That didn't sound... You don't look happy about it."
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Date: 2018-08-28 11:26 pm (UTC)He regards Kier with another look, a contemplative gander as he tries to piece a plan together. "Reckon you mind sleepin' in my room for the night? I'll kip on the couch, I just got a nagging feeling someone's gonna be knocking early, and I'd rather spare you the bullshit."
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Date: 2018-08-29 08:37 pm (UTC)"If...If you're sure. Thank you," he replies quietly, pushing himself back up again and offering Kal his hand to help him back to his feet. Maybe the time alone would help him decide what to do next.
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