timewasting | OPEN POST 2020.

[ Inej leans forward to test the tightness and he thinks maybe he should take a step back. But he doesn't and when she's sitting upright again, she stays where she is. Doesn't push him away.

He's tempted to lean in, to close the gap between them and kiss her. Like he'd come so close to doing before, lips just barely brushing against her neck. Instead, he pulls the edge of her shirt, tugging so it lays flatter. ]

I doubt anything will pick up until the afternoon tomorrow, if you want to get breakfast.

[ he hasn't moved.

it's this constant testing of boundaries, them. the push, and pull, and determining what is enough, and what is too much. but as he doesn't move, inej doesn't move closer. instead, she allows him to tug at the edge of her shirt, settling back on her hands easily, offering up a warm smile. ]

It's a deal.

[ after she steals out before he wakes up and gets his coat back, anyway. and her smile turns into a small grin, eyes bright. ]

I will even wear something other than the color black.

[ you know, to fit in. mark the occasion. or something. though she is still bringing the knives. ]

[ They've reached something like a balance here. A comfortable middle zone that doesn't have either of them pulling away. She smiles as she leans back and he returns it in his own way, the expression a bit faint on his mouth. ]

You don't have to. [ The Kerch wear plenty of black, after all. It's very business-like. And well: ] You, uh, look good in it.

[ Really she would look good in a canvas bag, but perhaps he's biased. Faintly embarrasses also, since he takes that opportunity to step away. He tries to convince himself it's more because his own injuries need to be cleaned off but—no, he's just trying not to think about how her legs look in those form fitting pants. ]

[ she opens her mouth to respond with a remark about how wearing something other than black and a hood would likely ensure more privacy than not, but then kaz continues, and she arches her eyebrows slightly.

she idly considers asking him about that. what do you mean, i look good in it. and while part of inej enjoys catching kaz brekker off guard, and maybe a tiny part of her relishes in the rare occasions where he can't form a sentence or that he blushes, she decides inside to allow him his compliment, and pocket the rest of it for later.

instead, inej reaches out with her left hand to catch one of kaz's. the movement is lazy, but no less meant, her fingers squeezing his. ]

Let me help.

[ . . . and, okay, because she truly can't resist: ]

Looking roughed up does complete the look you go for, but I think I like your face better without a black eye.

[ looking good in her pants, what is he thinking, smh. ]

[ It says a lot that he doesn't jump when she takes his hand. There's no slither of nausea after the surprise, just something like affection. Despite how embarrassed he feels for even making that comment a moment ago.

Her request does have him pausing though, wondering if he should push. After a little deliberation, he nods—she had bared her ribs, he thinks he can do the same. ]

Good thing it's so rare. [ It's not often too many can get close enough to black his eye. The snark takes some of the edge off of the comment because... she likes his face??? Distractedly, he unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off, draping it over the back of the chair. Only a couple of knives had glanced close enough to injure, shallow slashes that already stopped bleeding. He sets the wash basin on the desk, knowing the cuts should be cleaned off, along with a fresh roll of bandages.

And then holds out a cloth to her, forcing his hand steady. ]

[ well, she supposes that much is true -- in that it's a rare event, that someone gets close enough to actually punch kaz in the face. he typically breaks their arm before someone gets the better of him.

she remains where she is, sitting on the desk, gesturing him to come a bit closer to sit on the chair near her, so he can rest his leg. and she gently begins to clean, careful not to touch skin with her own fingers, but using the wet cloth instead. ]

Are they going to retaliate?

[ after a few moments of focus, shifting to grab at the new roll of bandages, to get to work. ]

The Black Tips.

[ He takes the seat, stretching his leg out with some relief. Today had been a long and busy day and his knee had been giving him pangs since the morning.

One of the first swipes of the cloth has him exhaling a hiss, the cool touch of it not as expected. Her motions are gentle, though, and he feels almost relaxed by the time she puts the cloth down. ]

Inevitably. Not right away, though, they don't have the numbers for that. [ Which is possibly why there had been mercenaries. But... ] Nor the coin to hire out, as far as I'm aware.

[ Unless they'd come into a windfall and kept suspiciously quiet over it. He hasn't heard a peep about something like that and money always talks in the Barrel. ]

Anything is possible.

[ it's said absently, as she focuses on wrapping a gash on his arm. nobody really expected them to claw their way out from the bottom and become richer than ever imagined, but here they were, on top, and there van eck was, in prison, somewhere.

she moves on to the next wound, careful in her ministrations. ]

They certainly seemed to hate you.

[ in a rueful tone, as she works. ]

At least one of them complained about removing your hands.

[ until inej silenced that talk, at any rate. ]

[ Anything is possible. That much is true, because here they both are, still in mostly one piece after the Ice Court. After Van Eck. And richer than either of them ever thought they could be. ]

It's the rule here, hate whoever is at the top. [ Well, it's not like he'd gone out of his way to make friends in the Barrel, either. He's pissed off a lot of people. Outsmarted them or beaten them at their own games. Or just plain beaten them, depending on whether it had come to blows. It's why he has to stay sharp, because they're a pack of ravenous wolves, always looking to see whose neck they can bite through next. ]

They just wish they were as light-fingered. [ Jealousy sure is an ugly thing. ]

Something tells me that is not the reason they want to remove your hands.

[ dryly, as she ties off the next bandage, smoothing it with a light touch of her fingers. she examines her work for a moment before she slides forward on the desk, balancing herself with a foot against the chair that kaz is sitting on so she can get a closer look at his face.

overall, a good face. no black eye. maybe a glancing scratch. most of the wounds seem to be around his arms, which inej has, by now, bandaged up.

so, she puts the cloth back in the wash bin before turning back to face kaz, a smile in place. ]

Done.

I'm sure they have a list of grievances as long as West Stave.

[ Though no one has pushed him enough as of late. With Rollins out of the picture, there's been a consolidation of power, mostly landing with the Dregs. The Dime Lions are in disarray, slowly but surely picked up by other gangs. There's rumor they're attempting a comeback under another name, but nothing's shown yet.

Well, whatever. He'll worry about that later. When he doesn't have Inej so close, her gaze concentrated as it sweeps over his face. At this angle, he has to tilt his head a bit to look up at her—something that sparks a familiar but odd sensation down his spine. Maybe now isn't the time to consider that too deeply.

He holds his hand out for hers, expression softening. ] Do I pass muster?

At least as long, if not longer.

[ faintly amused. inej is certain that the other bosses in the barrel would not shed a single tear, if kaz brekker vanished from existence, and never saw the light of day again.

or, well. maybe they would. because if someone removed kaz from this earth, they would have to worry about her knife to their throat. a far scarier prospect, to cowards like van eck.

she eyes him for a moment before she places his hand in his, the movement easy and light, a soft hmmmm escaping as she considers him. ]

And I think so. As much as you ever do.

[ he did argue with her earlier!! so minus ten points from slytherin for that. ]

You nearly fail for losing the coat, but I think escaping without much injury grants you the pass.

[ She takes his hand and he curls his fingers around hers, still glad when he can actually do it. When his mind doesn't conjure up all of the worst images and just lets him have this. Lets them both have this, after all they've been through.

Of course, he wants to keep trying to push the boundary. Just a little. So he brings her hand to his uninjured cheek, tilting his face towards the touch. ]

What would I do without your critical feedback? [ He says it wryly, though there's a grain of something genuine under it. ] Someone grabbed the coat, it was faster to shrug it off than to shake him.

Not be the boss of the Barrel, most likely.

[ just as wry, though she gently runs her thumb over his cheekbone, her expression melting into something a bit more soft. ]

Would you like more? Critical feedback.

[ she clearly doesn't mean it. or maybe she does. she has a solid four years of critical feedback to go through when it comes to kaz, thanks. ]

Very likely.

[ Her input and her knives have been major assets. She looked for things he would miss and wasn't afraid to point them out.

Which had occasionally been frustrating. But he had never regretted taking her thoughts into account, since she was normally right. ]

Let me get a shirt on before you give me the laundry list. [ Reluctantly, he pulls himself away from her touch, noting it's another step forward. Last time, he hadn't been able to handle her palm on his cheek with any regularity. This time, he hadn't even felt the pull of the harbor at the back of his mind.

When he stands, he offers her a hand down from the desk before going to pull a sleeping shirt on, the bandages she'd carefully applied making sure the cloth doesn't catch on the cuts. ]

It is not that long a list.

[ a slight protest, but she does take his hand to allow herself to be pulled up, landing lightly on her feet. she needs to get dressed into pajamas herself, but pulling off her boots seems to be the first step. and so she moves to her own space, to sit down on the bed to begin work on those.

i didn't even have a chance to put on my climbing shoes, inej thought ruefully, undoing the laces quickly so she could pull them off. at least she had had the foresight to bring her things with her, this time, so she did not have to return to the ship for a set of clothes. ]

It is actually fairly small. Comparatively.

[ compared to other people's lists of kaz brekker's flaws, anyway. ]

[ He lets her go after she's hopped off the desk, the two of them going their own ways to get ready for bed. This time, there's no awkward start—he'd gotten used to having her upstairs with him enough that they'd fallen into a routine.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he unlaces his shoes and tucks them under, so he won't trip on them in the morning. Changes out of trousers into more comfortable pants to sleep in and flops back onto his pillows with his eyes closed. What a long day. ]

Comparatively. [ Well, he figures someone like Van Eck would have a longer list. Or the leader of the Black Tips, who is probably furiously scribbling more reasons down due to tonight. ]

[ she changes into sleeping clothes easily, and once she tugs a looser shirt over her head, she exhales slowly. the tiredness is catching up to her, but she still has to undo her hair.

she glances toward kaz, amused that he already looks like he's ten seconds from passing out himself. everything had gone relatively well . . . so what's pushing one more boundary. just a little one.

she crosses the the room, untying her hair with her hands as she speaks, before she sits on the edge of his bed, at his hip, slowly undoing the plait of her braid. ]

You are stubborn. [ mildly, as she combs her fingers through the bottom part of her braid. ] Lack a sense of humor, on a good day. [ she glances toward him, amused. ] The cane is a bit much.

[ ostentatious. ]

[ The bed dips and he doesn't expect it, eyes opening to find her sitting close to his hip. Immediately his gaze drops to her fingers as they unwind her braid, the motion mesmerizing.

And as always, making him want to touch her hair. He doesn't though, crossing his arms over his middle instead. ]

Does the Barrel even make people who aren't? [ Stubbornness is a way of life, here. Perhaps he's more strong headed than most, but that's what's gotten him to this point. With no Per Haskell leading the gang, with Pekka Rollins regretting the day he ever came into contact with the two Rietveld boys. ]

I have a sense of humor. [ He says, with a frown. Okay maybe not much of one. ] The cane is exactly what it needs to be.

[ Iconic. A warning to anyone seeing him walk down the street. There's no mistaking the shape of it for anyone else's. And it has the added benefit of inflicting that much more damage, with the silver beak. ]

An inability to either take a joke or accept criticism.

[ lightly, as she finishes unbraiding her hair, shaking it out lightly so it falls over her shoulders, and she tosses him half a grin.

chill tf out, kaz. ]

[ He wants to protest but then she's grinning at him, clearly not intending for her comments to be so pointed. So instead of annoyance, he huffs out a sigh. Maybe he really does need to relax.

There's just—so much to worry about at any given time. ]

Alright, alright, you've made your point. [ And there's the smallest curl of amusement as he looks at her, finally reaching over to twirl a lock of hair around his finger. ] With Rollins gone it's been...different.

[ An adjustment. He isn't nearly as angry in the day to day, but some things are hard to change. ]

[ she nearly adds oversensitive to the list, but he begins to play with her hair, and inej's expression shifts into a softer smile, pulling one of her legs onto the bed properly, her leg resting against his side as she tucks her foot underneath her. her right leg remains hanging off the bed, her toes barely touching the ground.

she knows he's getting used to this new life. and he wears it well, if she's honest. but it's a bit like watching a child wade into water for the first time . . . kaz is figuring out how to live without the ghost of his past hanging over him, and it will take time, before he really adjusts to his new reality. ]

Do you want to hear your good qualities?

[ amused, as she continues to work her fingers through her hair, to untangle what little knots exist. ]

[ In the past, he's thought about this before. About her just leaning against him in some way, like how her leg is pressed to his side. Touching without expectation and without either of them dredging up ghosts. It's almost surreal to see it happening, to know they've made it this far.

He likes this more than he's ready to admit out loud. ]

Let's hear it, Captain. [ Maybe he can muster up enough courage to do the same for her. The words are already on his tongue, a jumbled mess of feelings from how positively he views her. Even when she's being stubborn.

Or maybe especially when she's being stubborn, with that tilt of determination to her chin and a flash behind her dark eyes. It's usually on the heels of her doing something seemingly impossible, like taking down men three times her size. ]

[ the willingness to hear his good qualities versus the delay to hear his bad ones causes a soft laugh to escape, but as promised, inej continues to comb out her hair with her fingers, and she thinks to herself. where to start . . . ]

You are willing to do what is necessary, even if it is hard. [ it's not her favorite thing about kaz, but it is likely the one she admires most. she moves to another section of her hair, to continue combing it out. ] You are brave, and smart.

[ a genius, really, with his stupid scheming face. ]

You see potential in people that they may not see in themselves.

[ like herself, and jesper, and wylan, and -- well, really, all of them. ]

[ The first few are simply a result of living in the Barrel, he thinks. And from his sheer determination to get Rollins back after what he'd done. It takes a certain kind of person to get far in this city and he had't intended to ever go back to being a sheep that could be so easily fleeced.

That's why he no longer went by Rietveld– that part of him is gone, drowned in the harbor and never seen again. Her comment about potential is not exactly surprising, though looking back he does wonder if that had been the only reason he'd reached out to the people he did. To her, Jesper, Wylan, Nina. To any of the younger Dregs he'd pulled into the fold. His intentions then had felt clear as day and now he's not so sure they had been the only motivations.

Because at least for her, he remembers the silence of her steps, how she'd managed to sneak up on him so well. But also the visceral recoil at quiet pleading he'd seen in her face. He knew what damage looked like and her gaze had stuck with him the entire way back to Per Haskell's office. ]

Potential doesn't mean anything if it isn't sharpened. [ And isn't that what she'd done? He handed her a knife and she'd become a wraith, another monster in Ketterdam that the other ones feared. ] How you still see the good in people after everything, I'll never understand.

OPEN POST 2020.

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