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]

The sound of the door makes Xas freeze where he's crouched on the roof, pouring water from a flask into a potted plant. It's not thriving the way Xas hoped it would; he tried adjusting the amount of light it received, and now the amount of water. He's trying to do it once a week. He got distracted yesterday and forgot to come, so maybe he was too eager tonight. He could have waited an hour or two to make sure everyone was really asleep.

He briefly considers running. He could handle the fall back to the ground or the leap to a neighboring building. But everything he owns - the plant, an empty glass bottle, a change of clothes, a few books - is here, tucked behind a thin chimney, and he couldn't take it with him if he fled. The bottle would break, at the very least, and that's the thing he's least willing to risk. He doesn't trust Baedal's gods enough to believe that it's really one of the bottles he passed back and forth with Sobran beneath their tree, but it's close. It smelled like wine when it arrived.

So he'll take his chances with whoever is on the balcony. Smile disarmingly and be polite. It might work. He tips the rest of the water into the pot, then straightens up and walks closer to the edge with as much dignity as he can muster in sock feet. His boots, given their tendency to thud, are still on the ground. Some good that did.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" he asks, screwing the cap back on the flask and peering down - and then he's startled, because the person on the balcony is two wings and a hair brushing short of resembling a few of Xas's siblings. He forgets his disarming smile.