[ Interesting, the way the house changed everyone around. Part of him would like to believe that this is the act, though. Then they could start playing a different game. ]
W-Well, I'm not -- I don't mean that it wasn't that.
[because the truth is: jakob was just koby without any of the anxiety or self-confidence issues. jakob wanted what koby wanted, and he didn't let anything stand in his way, and koby admires and envies and fears that part of him.
a little huffy sound, then:] It was very pleasant, yes. I just -- wasn't very polite about it. That's what I mean.
And moments later, once Koby reaches their meeting place, he finds Zephir already there, looking over his shoulder as he turns to face him, clicking a button to end the call and let the phone go in his pocket. The changes to Koby's presentation are as obvious as Zephir's, and yet they're both very much still themselves, aren't they. Two people finding each other through someone else's familiarity — be it mutual friends, family members they share, or alternate selves that did most of the job for them. How many people get a second chance to meet for the first time?
A segway from voice to in-person, as if that's how this conversation started, ]
[koby lifts a hand in a sort of shy little wave, cheeks flushed from the warm day, the same hue as his hair. he finds he wants to -- apologize again, maybe, for not being the confident, daring, cocky boy he'd been when they met in their other lives, but he swallows it back instead, tilting his head up (and up and up) as he gets closer.]
Ah, they weren't done by a very skilled doctor, back home. [tracing a finger along each pectoral, first in a straight line, like his surgery scars had been as jakob -- neat and smooth and professional -- then in a much more jagged, up-and-down line.] They didn't heal smoothly either. Hard to rest and recover on a ship.
[there's a world of meaning behind the casual comment -- koby hadn't been permitted to rest, had resumed his hard labor almost immediately with fresh sutures in, and that was a recipe for disaster.] That's -- that's mostly what I mean.
[ Or regenerate the skin entirely, make it as though they were never there. Zephir's glance follows Koby's fingers until he finishes the gesture, wondering. Given the number of healers and walking miracles that come and go, he imagined someone would've given the young man the opportunity.
Unless this is further insight into Koby himself. ]
-- no. [koby says it with a bit of surprise, eyebrows arching, because -- well, he generally keeps the scars covered, unless he's being intimate with someone, and somehow in all his myriad experiences, he hasn't done that with anyone who'd be able to remove the scars. he looks down, hands splaying out over his chest for a moment, before he offers zephir a little smile.]
But I don't think I would let them. Scars mean I survived. [he gestures at the other dramatic scar, this one x-shaped, fairly fresh, just off-center on his forehead.] And they make me look a bit more impressive, I think.
[ Just then, something seems a little brighter in Zephir's expression. Approval. Even pride. Without permission, his thumb reaches to brush the scar on Koby's forehead gently, as if the gesture serves to commit it to memory. It's really just an excuse to touch him. ]
I can. [ Still looking at the mark on Koby's forehead, returning the eye contact shortly after, hand dropped at his side. ] But you're absolutely right, love. I gave you all scars for a reason.
[ Scars as a whole. As an ability. As a gift. ]
It's so easy to forget our history when it isn't written. You carry it with you, outside the frail threads of memory. Scars are the pain that loved you enough to want to stay. A wound felt so deeply it became a part of who you are.
[ It makes sense that Alaric was full of them. Most of those marks had been carved by his sister. ]
It'd be a shame to destroy that, wouldn't it? Something so unique.
[the fresh, shiny pink skin has long since ceased to be tender, so koby doesn’t stiffen or shy away when zephir touches him – if anything he tips his head into the touch, big, earnest eyes softening a bit. going looser, in the shoulders, in the way he stands, something warming at him at having passed an unwritten, unannounced test.]
You did? Is this similar to, ah – the dinosaur thing? [he reads the network religiously, and the whole extinction topic seemed very troubling to zephir.] You’re not – human, are you?
[said sedately, calmly – it’s become a semi-common thing, and koby’s more curious than uneasy at the concept of speaking to or being close to…well. a concept. he’s cautious, though, the extra sense he’d regained when june ended reaching out to gently feel around the shape of zephir’s mind, his aura, his energy.]
I don’t think I could ever forget – all this. [one hand reaches up, presses to where the two long, jagged scars run parallel on either side of his chest. impossible to forget the battle for it, the endurance needed to survive the healing, the conviction even still that it had been necessary, essential. it was those or continue to die slowly, and koby had chosen the inevitable scars.
and he was still there, standing, hand to his chest. half-smiling at the word unique, koby shakes off the swell of emotion, clearing his throat. his cheeks flush a little deeper pink as he prompts:] I, ah, think we were going to discuss, um. Undergarments?
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[stammering, blushing.]
I was the one who, um. Propositioned you.
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I-It wasn't. Very polite.
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[ Interesting, the way the house changed everyone around. Part of him would like to believe that this is the act, though. Then they could start playing a different game. ]
Unless you tell me you disagree.
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[because the truth is: jakob was just koby without any of the anxiety or self-confidence issues. jakob wanted what koby wanted, and he didn't let anything stand in his way, and koby admires and envies and fears that part of him.
a little huffy sound, then:] It was very pleasant, yes. I just -- wasn't very polite about it. That's what I mean.
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If you'd like to, I'd like to see you again, yes. Properly.
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That sounds like a wonderful idea. Where would you like to meet?
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[ Oh look, a joke about the absolute chaos this place makes out of death. ]
I prefer the outdoors.
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The lake, then. It's nice this time of year.
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I'll make the delivery as discreet as possible for you, love. Just let me know when you're ready.
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[the huffy little sounds of someone preparing to go out to the lake.]
But don't, um. You don't have to be sneaky or...or anything.
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[ Imagine bossing the 6'7" entity around, Koby. ]
You mentioned what's changed. I want to know what stayed the same.
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Uhm. Well, physically, I'm...mostly the same? Same height and everything. No more piercings. Ah...I don't know. What did you mean specifically?
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[ What better way to know Koby's priorities? ]
Are you going to miss his piercings? My skin had tattoos all over. Scars, too. I haven't decided if I should bring them back.
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finally:] He was unhappy. That part's changed, at least. He felt -- trapped and unsafe and desperate.
[a little huff, then:] I remember the scars. And the tattoos. My scars are worse now, I'm afraid.
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[ Zephir says the darndest things.
And moments later, once Koby reaches their meeting place, he finds Zephir already there, looking over his shoulder as he turns to face him, clicking a button to end the call and let the phone go in his pocket. The changes to Koby's presentation are as obvious as Zephir's, and yet they're both very much still themselves, aren't they. Two people finding each other through someone else's familiarity — be it mutual friends, family members they share, or alternate selves that did most of the job for them. How many people get a second chance to meet for the first time?
A segway from voice to in-person, as if that's how this conversation started, ]
Why are they worse?
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Ah, they weren't done by a very skilled doctor, back home. [tracing a finger along each pectoral, first in a straight line, like his surgery scars had been as jakob -- neat and smooth and professional -- then in a much more jagged, up-and-down line.] They didn't heal smoothly either. Hard to rest and recover on a ship.
[there's a world of meaning behind the casual comment -- koby hadn't been permitted to rest, had resumed his hard labor almost immediately with fresh sutures in, and that was a recipe for disaster.] That's -- that's mostly what I mean.
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[ Or regenerate the skin entirely, make it as though they were never there. Zephir's glance follows Koby's fingers until he finishes the gesture, wondering. Given the number of healers and walking miracles that come and go, he imagined someone would've given the young man the opportunity.
Unless this is further insight into Koby himself. ]
Or did you not let them?
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But I don't think I would let them. Scars mean I survived. [he gestures at the other dramatic scar, this one x-shaped, fairly fresh, just off-center on his forehead.] And they make me look a bit more impressive, I think.
[a pause, then:] Could you do that? Remove scars?
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I can. [ Still looking at the mark on Koby's forehead, returning the eye contact shortly after, hand dropped at his side. ] But you're absolutely right, love. I gave you all scars for a reason.
[ Scars as a whole. As an ability. As a gift. ]
It's so easy to forget our history when it isn't written. You carry it with you, outside the frail threads of memory. Scars are the pain that loved you enough to want to stay. A wound felt so deeply it became a part of who you are.
[ It makes sense that Alaric was full of them. Most of those marks had been carved by his sister. ]
It'd be a shame to destroy that, wouldn't it? Something so unique.
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You did? Is this similar to, ah – the dinosaur thing? [he reads the network religiously, and the whole extinction topic seemed very troubling to zephir.] You’re not – human, are you?
[said sedately, calmly – it’s become a semi-common thing, and koby’s more curious than uneasy at the concept of speaking to or being close to…well. a concept. he’s cautious, though, the extra sense he’d regained when june ended reaching out to gently feel around the shape of zephir’s mind, his aura, his energy.]
I don’t think I could ever forget – all this. [one hand reaches up, presses to where the two long, jagged scars run parallel on either side of his chest. impossible to forget the battle for it, the endurance needed to survive the healing, the conviction even still that it had been necessary, essential. it was those or continue to die slowly, and koby had chosen the inevitable scars.
and he was still there, standing, hand to his chest. half-smiling at the word unique, koby shakes off the swell of emotion, clearing his throat. his cheeks flush a little deeper pink as he prompts:] I, ah, think we were going to discuss, um. Undergarments?
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🎀!