it's all right, ain't no God in my eye

[gramarye]

Who: Wolfgang and Xas
What: Xas a roof is not a bed. Get a job.
Where: Chimer
When: Late Ged, before Samsdream, evening
Warnings: idk will update if needed

Among the other nasty surprises brought on by the siege, Wolfgang was rather put out to discover the Badside inn he had been staying in since his eviction from Bonetown had been partially blown up. The partial bit had, in fact, been the side he had been staying in. He'd lost all his things. It wasn't as disheartening as it should have been, but maybe he was just too exhausted from the last couple of weeks to have any spare emotion left over for this. He felt a tinge of frustration, that was all. He owned nothing that couldn't be replaced, anyway.

But that left him with a more pressing concern -- namely, where he was going to sleep. His friend Kahnde -- the one who kept trussing him up and dragging him around to parties thrown by Baedal's new money eccentrics, as well as the one who kept him in supply with the medications Wolfgang desperately needed -- offered him a place to stay and he couldn't turn him down. It makes him uncomfortable to stay there when he knows he's sort of leading the xenian man on -- but Kahnde also took the siege extremely poorly as several of his friends had died rather gruesome deaths. Wolfgang came out here partially as a babysitter. He's a bit worried about Kahnde doing something drastic.

The townhouse in the urban half of Chimer is a large property considering it's inhabited by only one person. The architecture is typical Baedalite weirdness, a mish-mash of various time periods, and the whole thing is painted an unfortunate shade of puce. It's got a flat roof upon which are mounted several solar panels for power, two balconies, and a superfluous amount of windows that at least offer a fantastic view of the beach.

He sleeps an awful lot, which means the hours he's awake tend to be ... odd. He sleeps very deeply these days, waking only if he's touched or if one of his dreams ends, and the latest one -- a very strange one that only further blurs the line between reality and fantasy for him -- lets him go just when everyone else is starting to go to bed. Well, fantastic. He's rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he hears it -- the distinct sound of something in the walls. No, not in them: on them. Something's climbing up the side of the house, towards the roof.

The fuck.

He freezes for a moment, then decides the last thing they need is a burglar or giant rat or something. Whatever it is, he can handle it, he's pretty sure, which is why he comes out on the balcony alone, his hair sticking out in every direction like he stuck his finger in a socket, as he looks up for the source of that sound.

It only occurs to him after he gets out there that whatever is out there could very well be a leftover monster. Oh. Well. Oops?

Comments

[wingwalker]

"Oh," Xas says, surprised. "You went home?"

That's comforting, or not really comforting at all, since he was brought back, and that means anyone who does go home - if they remember, and maybe it's even worse if they don't - will have to go through every moment knowing they could be uprooted again. Xas edges close to the thought that something might be not just as powerful as God, but more so, and beyond his understanding in ways God never was. But he doesn't quite think it. He pulls back instead, looks down at the cover of the book in his hand and then up at Wolfgang, who is nearly as impressively tall for a human as Xas is impressively short for an angel. "I'm sorry," he says, in lieu of anything else about people needing to ripen before they're picked.

[gramarye]

"Mm," Wolfgang says. "For a few months, about a year ago -- um, it's not a big deal." His smile is a little strained because all his smiles look like that, but it's intended to reassure; it really doesn't bother him as much as it does other people who have been through the same thing. He doesn't have to worry about being uprooted constantly, sent home and then sent back, trying to rebuild a life over and over and make sense of constant upheaval.

He's going to die in Baedal. He knows this.

He's about to add something else when his CiD (he doesn't remember grabbing it, but he must have --) chimes, indicating a text -- and then chimes five more times in a row. He cringes apologetically as he fumbles to pull it out, checks it, then pulls quite a face. "Ah, I think I'd better be heading back. Someone's having a crisis."

He doesn't sound terribly worried, so it is likely not as big a deal as his friend apparently thinks it is.