[K is awake. He doesn't answer right away, toying with the device in his hand, looking over what he can see of Vrenille's face. It's never the same in video transmissions. Cameras miss small details that are important, they distort measurements, they change lighting - it's important. But he can still make most things work.
He was thinking about Vrenille anyway, about trying to talk to someone who wants to hear his voice, but of course. Of course Jesus went to him, and he's neither surprised nor begrudges him that, but it makes his own decision to just stay in, to just stay silent, seem like his only real viable one. He doesn't feel any particular way about this, he doesn't think. Just resigned.
When he finally turns on the feed it's to a dark apartment, only starlight and ambient light from the city outside it backlighting him a bit, and the glowing tip of a cigarette in his hand. Nibbles is stretched across his lap, apparently asleep with his head in his hand where he's rubbing his ears.]
[Vrenille's brow is furrowed with worry. He can barely see K in the darkness, the camera not quite adjusting to the bright hot tip of the cigarette against the low ambient light. Mostly, he can see hints of movement, shadowy outlines, but he can tell that K is sitting alone in the dark and it makes him fidget a little, wondering if he really should have just gone in person.]
He's better than he was when he got here. I'm worried 'bout you though.
[I'm okay, he could say now, almost does. He's okay, he will be, none of this is anything he can't come back from.
He doesn't say it. He takes a draw off the cigarette, briefly lighting his face more, and lets the smoke trail naturally back out of his nose on the slow exhale.]
Which part? [There's a tone of sadness to the question, because the sorts of things that have been done here, Vrenille knows, are not things that can easily be undone.]
That he's in love with you. That he'd run. Or both?
[He makes a thoughtful sound, nodding. It's not hard to picture what K is describing--how clearly he'd be able to spot the moments of hesitation, the near breaks that Jesus didn't ultimately make...until he did.]
Can't make it feel much better now though. Just the opposite maybe.
[They'd talked about it, even. K had tried to say he understood, and Jesus had insisted he felt safe, felt good with him. And he meant that too.
He's meant all of it, even his apology, which leaves K at a loss for what to do, so he makes a soft sound of agreement in his throat, and occupies himself with another lungful of smoke.]
I'm not here to try 'n be some kinda go-between, trying to patch things up 'tween you guys like some middleman. That's not my place.
He came to me, and that's no small thing. It matters. But it's to one side. I'm worried 'bout you now, K. I'm worried 'bout where this leaves you.
He told me you don't trust him anymore. [But he doesn't know if those were K's words or what Jesus took from them. He doesn't know if that's where K is at right now. And there's no blame for it, either way. He's just looking for a place to begin.]
There's nothing to patch up. We didn't argue. I'm not angry.
[He accepted Jesus's apology, and told him they're okay; clearly, Jesus didn't believe that, but that's fair. K meant to mean it, but he doesn't know how to actually get any closer to that end goal.
He's still not angry, not particularly. Something else though, something related, something not far from it.]
[He can imagine frustration and resentment for the situation that K's found himself left in, but it's not his place to try and drum up words for whatever K is feeling either.]
Have you spoken to Drake? [The other factor in all this, a man Vrenille doesn't know except second hand, but who's come to hold this position of power in K's life.]
First? [Obvious surprise. Jesus failed to mention that.
Vrenille's prepared to bite his tongue on it. He's prepared to try and bite his tongue on all of it, but as K goes on, the furrow in his brow grows. He opens his mouth and closes it again a few times before actually figuring out what he wants to say.]
Sorry, maybe I'm not following.
He asked to talk to you so he could tell you Jesus leaving doesn't change anything.
And then--is it you saying something has changed even though he doesn't know it? Or is that him saying it to you, like he's gonna let you know when he works out what the change is?
[The difficulty with trying to do damage control with a replicant blade runner is that it's nearly impossible to bluff him. He's too well mannered to call anyone out on it, usually, but he has to be very distracted indeed to miss whatever is underneath whatever he's being told.]
He said he wanted me to be able to trust him. He was trying to make me believe our arrangement didn't have to change.
But so much of it hinges on Jesus. How can it not?
I just don't see how someone's gonna tell you that. Seems a lot more an asking you situation to me.
[He doesn't care for it, and even though he's not going to say so directly, K will probably be able to tell even via video. He doesn't care for anyone taking a unilateral stance on how things are or how they will be with anyone, but especially not with K.
But he sighs deeply lets it go. For one thing, he might still be misunderstanding. For another, if K's not mad about it, then Vrenille needs to accept his lead. And for a third, Drake is someone who Jesus trusts--who Jesus loves. So, alright. But that doesn't make him any less worried.]
It kinda sounded like it all hinges on Jesus. Unless there's parts I'm missing. You've never made it sound like you and Drake are close.
Jesus was the go between for our contract. I... when I lived with V for that month, we were neighbors, and I would pet his dog sometimes. But he came and spoke to me for the first time after Jesus mentioned me.
And I didn't want a contract. I still don't want a contract. But I also didn't want to keep hurting people, and it's not going to change, so - Jesus trusts him. I have no reason not to, not that he's given me, and I do like him. He's been kind.
[K's cigarette hits the filter and he grinds it out in the ashtray, but immediately pulls another out of the tin on the table.]
He helped me set terms in the contract, helped rent this apartment, and - then he left me alone, which is what I wanted. It's not his fault I don't want this. It's not because of him that I don't.
I just. [He falls quiet, rolling the unlit cigarette in his fingers, rubbing Nibbles' ears. He just doesn't know, so he just doesn't start again.]
Well trusting him and liking him, those go a long way. And kindness is important.
There's a lotta folks in this city who've got contracts of convenience. Two people needing signatures on a piece of paper and nothing more. Sign and then live their lives separate. If that's what you want and he'll still respect it now... [On that front, K is formally no better or worse off, regardless of what Jesus chooses to do.
That's clearly not how it feels though, and Vrenille's not about to try and say it should.]
If Jesus went back, if he signed with Drake again, would that make it-- I know not better, but would it help?
[Another long pause. K sits for several moments, trying to get traction on the question, trying to make it fit what he knows is the logical progression. It's two days, and if no one had said anything, nothing would have changed. It shouldn't matter. No harm no foul, nothing has changed, nothing has happened.
Except it did. K lights the new cigarette, carefully setting it down again, and tries to say yes. Tries to say it's a done deal, it's fine, life goes on.
What he says, very very quietly, is:] I don't want to be here, Vrenille.
[It breaks Vrenille's heart hearing him say it and knowing he's so entirely powerless to alleviate the hurt--to alleviate anything, not just about having to be here, but about having to feel the things he's now feeling.
He can't get him out of a contract he doesn't want to be in, can't get him free from contracts altogether, can't take him home with him to Tyria, can't take away the things that are worst and most inescapable about life in this city, and he doesn't have any words that will make this hurt any less.]
I'm coming there, alright? I know I can't change anything, but I'm coming there, and then... I just am. [So long as K doesn't tell him no, at least.]
[K is rubbing at his face, rubbing hard at the corners of his eyes, like he can massage any of this right out of him but of course he can't. No one can.]
He's asleep. Probably be out for a few hours yet. I'll leave a note in case he wakes up while I'm out.
[And more to the point, Jesus seemed pretty steady and calm at the point they reached. That's not to say that panic can't resurge, but the initial crisis seemed to have ebbed.]
Of course I can. [It's such a small, simple request that it has no right to strike the pang it does in his chest, but he smiles through it regardless.]
[There's a light on by the time K is opening the door for Vrenille, at least. K can see just fine without it, but he knows how it looks, and anyway Vrenille will probably need it so he turns on one low lamp in the corner and pours a few drinks while he waits. Waiting is always hardest.
He was always good at waiting.
K is also holding what is both very obviously a puppy still and on her way to becoming quite a sturdy, large adult pit bull, solid, rich butterscotch in color; he has her over one arm like she's still only weeks old, held to his chest so that when she starts wiggling excitedly upon seeing the newcomer, he can steady them both.
She lets out a soft whuff of sound that gathers in the next one to slightly louder, but he murmurs to her and strokes between her ears and she doesn't bark again, only wiggles harder.]
This is Mango. If you pet her a few times, I can put her away with a toy and she won't make the neighbors hate me.
[It's hit or miss sometimes, she's still a puppy, but he's confident he can keep her quiet anyway. Nibbles has already moved to the bed.]
The first thing Vrenille wants to do when he gets through the door is throw his arms around K's neck and hug him.
There's a puppy in the way though, and he can absolutely tell by all the wriggling, that there's going to be no settling down without a greeting. So he dutifully presents his hand for sniffing, licking, nibbling, or the overeager combination of all three that one sometimes gets with puppies.
"Mango," he repeats the name first to smile at K for how adorable that is before greeting the dog herself. "Hi, Mango." He rubs her chin and one floppy ear, hopefully offering what counts as a satisfactory puppy greeting. His experience with animals has never extended to being a natural with them, but it's not at all lost on him how important these companions K is accumulating seem to be for him, and that matters to him a great deal.
"Hard to imagine you not getting on with your neighbours." K is so polite and respectful of people. But then he's also the single submissive who lives next door, and sometimes people will use any petty excuse to complain.
"I never have," he admits, and he smiles when he does but it's neither happy nor reaches his eyes. "At least the ones here don't write things on my door."
Mango is all too happy to make a new friend, pawing the air as if she can paddle closer to Vrenille, tail wagging furiously when it's not caught against K's chest or side. K lets her for a minute or two, and then murmurs quietly, "That's enough." It doesn't cut things off, per se, but when he steps back and moves to put Mango down inside her crate, she doesn't whine or bark. He hands her a chew toy and closes the door, and even though she still stands and stares expectantly between the two men, tail still going, she does settle down to it a few minutes later. She doesn't bark.
K brushes hair off his shirt, glancing back up at Vrenille uncertainly, then away. The animals make for good conversation starters, or buffers; he's not evasive enough just now to try to keep Mango out as a permanent distraction, but it's also true he isn't quite sure what to do now.
"There's um. Drinks there," he finally lands on, nodding at the counter where indeed there are drinks, but he's pulling his cigarette tin out of his pocket again.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
video | un: KD6-3.7
He was thinking about Vrenille anyway, about trying to talk to someone who wants to hear his voice, but of course. Of course Jesus went to him, and he's neither surprised nor begrudges him that, but it makes his own decision to just stay in, to just stay silent, seem like his only real viable one. He doesn't feel any particular way about this, he doesn't think. Just resigned.
When he finally turns on the feed it's to a dark apartment, only starlight and ambient light from the city outside it backlighting him a bit, and the glowing tip of a cigarette in his hand. Nibbles is stretched across his lap, apparently asleep with his head in his hand where he's rubbing his ears.]
How is he?
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[Vrenille's brow is furrowed with worry. He can barely see K in the darkness, the camera not quite adjusting to the bright hot tip of the cigarette against the low ambient light. Mostly, he can see hints of movement, shadowy outlines, but he can tell that K is sitting alone in the dark and it makes him fidget a little, wondering if he really should have just gone in person.]
He's better than he was when he got here. I'm worried 'bout you though.
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He doesn't say it. He takes a draw off the cigarette, briefly lighting his face more, and lets the smoke trail naturally back out of his nose on the slow exhale.]
I saw this coming. I knew.
And I ignored it. Because I was asked to.
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That he's in love with you. That he'd run. Or both?
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I mean - I didn't know that he'd run. But I saw moments before when he almost did. When he wanted to but didn't.
So.
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Can't make it feel much better now though. Just the opposite maybe.
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He's meant all of it, even his apology, which leaves K at a loss for what to do, so he makes a soft sound of agreement in his throat, and occupies himself with another lungful of smoke.]
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He came to me, and that's no small thing. It matters. But it's to one side. I'm worried 'bout you now, K. I'm worried 'bout where this leaves you.
He told me you don't trust him anymore. [But he doesn't know if those were K's words or what Jesus took from them. He doesn't know if that's where K is at right now. And there's no blame for it, either way. He's just looking for a place to begin.]
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[He accepted Jesus's apology, and told him they're okay; clearly, Jesus didn't believe that, but that's fair. K meant to mean it, but he doesn't know how to actually get any closer to that end goal.
He's still not angry, not particularly. Something else though, something related, something not far from it.]
I just. Don't know what to believe.
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[He can imagine frustration and resentment for the situation that K's found himself left in, but it's not his place to try and drum up words for whatever K is feeling either.]
Have you spoken to Drake? [The other factor in all this, a man Vrenille doesn't know except second hand, but who's come to hold this position of power in K's life.]
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He came to find me first. He asked to, I guess.
He wanted me to know that it didn't change anything between us. Except it did change something, even if he doesn't know the shape of it yet.
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Vrenille's prepared to bite his tongue on it. He's prepared to try and bite his tongue on all of it, but as K goes on, the furrow in his brow grows. He opens his mouth and closes it again a few times before actually figuring out what he wants to say.]
Sorry, maybe I'm not following.
He asked to talk to you so he could tell you Jesus leaving doesn't change anything.
And then--is it you saying something has changed even though he doesn't know it? Or is that him saying it to you, like he's gonna let you know when he works out what the change is?
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He said he wanted me to be able to trust him. He was trying to make me believe our arrangement didn't have to change.
But so much of it hinges on Jesus. How can it not?
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[He doesn't care for it, and even though he's not going to say so directly, K will probably be able to tell even via video. He doesn't care for anyone taking a unilateral stance on how things are or how they will be with anyone, but especially not with K.
But he sighs deeply lets it go. For one thing, he might still be misunderstanding. For another, if K's not mad about it, then Vrenille needs to accept his lead. And for a third, Drake is someone who Jesus trusts--who Jesus loves. So, alright. But that doesn't make him any less worried.]
It kinda sounded like it all hinges on Jesus. Unless there's parts I'm missing. You've never made it sound like you and Drake are close.
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And I didn't want a contract. I still don't want a contract. But I also didn't want to keep hurting people, and it's not going to change, so - Jesus trusts him. I have no reason not to, not that he's given me, and I do like him. He's been kind.
[K's cigarette hits the filter and he grinds it out in the ashtray, but immediately pulls another out of the tin on the table.]
He helped me set terms in the contract, helped rent this apartment, and - then he left me alone, which is what I wanted. It's not his fault I don't want this. It's not because of him that I don't.
I just. [He falls quiet, rolling the unlit cigarette in his fingers, rubbing Nibbles' ears. He just doesn't know, so he just doesn't start again.]
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There's a lotta folks in this city who've got contracts of convenience. Two people needing signatures on a piece of paper and nothing more. Sign and then live their lives separate. If that's what you want and he'll still respect it now... [On that front, K is formally no better or worse off, regardless of what Jesus chooses to do.
That's clearly not how it feels though, and Vrenille's not about to try and say it should.]
If Jesus went back, if he signed with Drake again, would that make it-- I know not better, but would it help?
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Except it did. K lights the new cigarette, carefully setting it down again, and tries to say yes. Tries to say it's a done deal, it's fine, life goes on.
What he says, very very quietly, is:] I don't want to be here, Vrenille.
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He can't get him out of a contract he doesn't want to be in, can't get him free from contracts altogether, can't take him home with him to Tyria, can't take away the things that are worst and most inescapable about life in this city, and he doesn't have any words that will make this hurt any less.]
I'm coming there, alright? I know I can't change anything, but I'm coming there, and then... I just am. [So long as K doesn't tell him no, at least.]
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[K is rubbing at his face, rubbing hard at the corners of his eyes, like he can massage any of this right out of him but of course he can't. No one can.]
He came to you there. That's a big deal.
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[And more to the point, Jesus seemed pretty steady and calm at the point they reached. That's not to say that panic can't resurge, but the initial crisis seemed to have ebbed.]
He wouldn't want me not to come see you.
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Alright.
Could you bring more cigarettes? I'm almost out.
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I'll be there in twenty.
~~~> Spam ]
K can see just fine without it, but he knows how it looks, and anyway Vrenille will probably need it so he turns on one low lamp in the corner and pours a few drinks while he waits. Waiting is always hardest.
He was always good at waiting.
K is also holding what is both very obviously a puppy still and on her way to becoming quite a sturdy, large adult pit bull, solid, rich butterscotch in color; he has her over one arm like she's still only weeks old, held to his chest so that when she starts wiggling excitedly upon seeing the newcomer, he can steady them both.
She lets out a soft whuff of sound that gathers in the next one to slightly louder, but he murmurs to her and strokes between her ears and she doesn't bark again, only wiggles harder.]
This is Mango. If you pet her a few times, I can put her away with a toy and she won't make the neighbors hate me.
[It's hit or miss sometimes, she's still a puppy, but he's confident he can keep her quiet anyway. Nibbles has already moved to the bed.]
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There's a puppy in the way though, and he can absolutely tell by all the wriggling, that there's going to be no settling down without a greeting. So he dutifully presents his hand for sniffing, licking, nibbling, or the overeager combination of all three that one sometimes gets with puppies.
"Mango," he repeats the name first to smile at K for how adorable that is before greeting the dog herself. "Hi, Mango." He rubs her chin and one floppy ear, hopefully offering what counts as a satisfactory puppy greeting. His experience with animals has never extended to being a natural with them, but it's not at all lost on him how important these companions K is accumulating seem to be for him, and that matters to him a great deal.
"Hard to imagine you not getting on with your neighbours." K is so polite and respectful of people. But then he's also the single submissive who lives next door, and sometimes people will use any petty excuse to complain.
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Mango is all too happy to make a new friend, pawing the air as if she can paddle closer to Vrenille, tail wagging furiously when it's not caught against K's chest or side. K lets her for a minute or two, and then murmurs quietly, "That's enough." It doesn't cut things off, per se, but when he steps back and moves to put Mango down inside her crate, she doesn't whine or bark. He hands her a chew toy and closes the door, and even though she still stands and stares expectantly between the two men, tail still going, she does settle down to it a few minutes later. She doesn't bark.
K brushes hair off his shirt, glancing back up at Vrenille uncertainly, then away. The animals make for good conversation starters, or buffers; he's not evasive enough just now to try to keep Mango out as a permanent distraction, but it's also true he isn't quite sure what to do now.
"There's um. Drinks there," he finally lands on, nodding at the counter where indeed there are drinks, but he's pulling his cigarette tin out of his pocket again.
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CW: passive suicidal ideation
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