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[konstant]

                                                                 

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[ Spam ]

[konstant]

He does like the mural. He doesn't understand it, but he doesn't have to.

K already liked coffee in Los Angeles; here, it tastes significantly better than anything he had back home, so he's quick to nod.

"Please." He steps politely inside, offers as politely, "Thank you. I appreciate this, especially for a stranger."

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[notrosecolored]

He pours a second cup of coffee and holds it out, handle free for K to take more easily. "Cream's in the fridge, sugar's on the counter if you want either." He's drinking his black, but leaves it sitting on the counter since he's going to need to go get the gun.

That thanks gets a faint smile out of him. "I'll either have done something good and feel good about that or made a terrible mistake and have an excuse to wallow in guilt for a while. I think it'll be okay, though."

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[konstant]

K used to take his black, too, because any additives he could afford or were available to him otherwise only made the taste worse. Here, though, he's quick to add a few spoonfuls of sugar, and he smiles at the response.

"I'll do my best not to make you regret it. I don't actually want to be any trouble."

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[notrosecolored]

"I didn't think you did." That's said easily enough. "How's your hand?"

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[konstant]

He holds his hand up to show him - the bandage is gone, the edges are closed, just a healing pink scar.

"All I have to do is keep it that way." Harder to accomplish than one might think for someone who genuinely doesn't like to get into fights. "How'd the games go for you?"

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[notrosecolored]

He should get up and go get that gun, but he's enjoying the conversation and company more than he expected, so.

"I didn't actually get recruited. I spent most of my time camping, and looking around the location. It wasn't terrible. You?"

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[konstant]

K is watching for that, for discomfort or impatience, but he's committed to at least finishing the cup of coffee. He sips at it, relaxes a bit.

"I did, but I got to keep my clothes on, and they left me alone the rest of the time." So he's pretty good with it. "I think I'm starting to catch my breath a bit."

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[notrosecolored]

Scott leans back against the counter and picks his cup back up to drink. His coffee in particular has cooled off a lot, but it's fine. "Being left alone for a while is good. Catching your breath is better. It's easier to navigate this place when you're not reeling."

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[konstant]

"I've been warned not to get used to it," he admits, holding his mug in both hands to feel it warm his palms.

"And I'm worried for what comes next after the calm."

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[notrosecolored]

Scott doesn't hesitate so much as he takes a moment to decide what words he wants to use, here. Because... this place isn't ideal, but also.

"My experience thus far is that it's a place where... on a small and personal scale a certain amount of order can be imposed on the broader chaos." Which is maybe odd, but. It's kind of what he has.

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[konstant]

"The planet I'm from is dead," K offers. As far as broader chaos goes, it's a good example of how it can get out of the hands of the individual.

"But we still had protocols to go by for day to day life. A lot of people felt the laws were pointless, but they were still the law for a reason."

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[notrosecolored]

"Laws weren't exactly what I was talking about," says the man with a profound distrust of authority and government, but. "Not having to deal with total chaos here is... helpful."

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[konstant]

K smiles a bit, self-deprecating.

"Old habit," he admits into his coffee. Cop. "It might be easier if the city itself weren't so committed to arbitrary order over more natural patterns."