OPEN POST 2020.

[legalized]

【my ❝CALL ME OUT❞ post】
get my ass in gear.

♛ here is my muselist. ♛ post "calling" one of them out — you can do so by putting their name in the subject line! ♛ can be informal/formal/comment spam/crosscanon/explicit/whatever tickles your fancy! ♛ feel free to make up a scenario at the start, or wait to see where things go. meme code.

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[ketterdamn]

[ A healer would certainly make the injuries either nonexistent or go away faster at the very least. But that's more time with people that aren't Inej. And he knows his injuries really aren't that bad. Some bandages and a few days will do they trick. ]

I'm sure, I've taken worse beatings. They barely left a scratch.

[ He smooths his hand down the line of her back, affectionate. Just wanting to touch. Though he really should take his gloves off. ]

Let's have a look at those ribs.

[wraithes]

[ the frown is still present on her face, but she sighs with a slight roll of her eyes, loosening her arms from around his middle. she will surrender the battle on getting kaz to see a healer . . . for now.

there's an odd feeling in her stomach, though, as her fingers make quick work unbuttoning and unzipping her hooded jacket. undressing in front of anyone was uncomfortable, but she steels her nerves, tugging the jacket open and shrugging out of it easily. it's set aside on the nearby table, her fingers shifting to undoing the holster where her hidden knives rest against her side. once that is also finished, she's in a tank top.

there's another moment of hesitation before she pulls up the shirt a little, to show her ribs and stomach. there is a scar on her side, from the fight on the docks, what feels like forever ago . . . but really, it doesn't look too terrible. there is a bruise developing along her right side from where the black tip managed to hit her while she was distracted, but judging from the blood on inej's knives, he quickly paid the price for thinking he could fight the wraith in close quarters. ]

I do not think they are broken.

[ it's murmured, a little frustrated with herself, a hand gingerly pressing against her side as she frowns. ]

It was only one hit, but he was bigger than I was.

[ inej like everyone is bigger than you are. but once she prods her ribs a bit, trying to gauge how damaged they are, she sounds slightly less frustrated with herself, and a little more wryness melts into her tone: ]

I do not think he knew who I was until he hit me.

[ he figured it out at the flash of steel. ]

[ketterdamn]

[ He doesn't watch as she starts to undress, instead going through his own motions. It has to be uncomfortable for her, considering everything, but he feels—not proud, exactly. More like glad that she trusts him enough to do this, because he hears the rustle of clothing behind him.

It's quite in the room save for that and Kaz goes to undo his tie, shrug off his vest. The latter will need stitching to save. After a brief hesitation, he pulls his gloves off, leaving them on his bedside table. From the drawer, he takes out a roll of bandages and a small jar of salve; it should make the swelling less. ]

If your breath isn't short, they're not broken. [ He turns to face her finally, sweeping a concerned look over her. There's already a dark spread of black and blue on her side, which she's prodding tenderly. ]

Almost everyone is bigger than you, Inej. [ In a lot of ways, it's helpful. Her stabs are much closer to their middle and a gut wound is nothing to scoff at. ] I doubt he would've tried to hit you if he'd known.

[ Too bad for him that he figured it out the hard way. Dragging his office chair closer to the desk, he gestures for her to come over so they can start in on the bandages. ]

[wraithes]

[ well. comforting enough information to know, and inej steps toward the desk, turning to push herself up onto it neatly. she sits, so she can be more at his level -- easier for her to sit on the desk, than sit in the chair and have him bed over. or so she thought, anyway.

it takes a moment for her to figure out the best way to turn, but she soon faces kaz while sitting on the desk, tugging up her shirt again with a tired sigh. ]

I know, I know. [ in reference to everyone being bigger than she is. ] But it is easy to forget, until I get caught.

[ which, thankfully, is almost never.

she's nervous, her heart thrumming in her chest, because the last time they had attempted this had ended . . . poorly. granted, they were both different people, and granted, they were both at the end of their rope in terms of stress, in terms of survival. in terms of fighting back against both pekka and van eck. now, they were both a little . . . more at peace.

even if they had just had an argument. and she is quiet for a moment before a small smile graces her features, tone shifting to something a little lighter. more to distract herself, from the nerves. ]

I had envisioned tonight a little differently.

[ she should have known better, and she also got herself into this mess by insisting on helping kaz, but. you know. whatever. ]

[ketterdamn]

[ Here's the real challenge of the night. Fighting in a gang romp in the streets is nearly rote, especially for anyone who's spent more than three months in the Barrel. He has almost a decade at this point and his proverbial knives are as sharp as they can be.

As are hers, which is why they're both sitting here, alive. With about as minimal injury as one could ask for in a big fight like the one they'd just left.

Still, he steels himself for it and takes a seat in the chair when she levers herself up onto the desk. It's nearly identical to how they'd been in the hotel. Like a second chance not to mess it all up. The jar is set on the edge of the desk, lid unscrewed so he can dip his fingers in it. ]

I wanted to take you to dinner, when you got back. [ But everything had gone sideways instead. Carefully, he brushes some of the sticky salve where the bruise has discolored the most, holding back his initial urge to pull his hand away. More gently than most would probably believe of him, he spreads it over the skin, getting it towards the edges of the bruise.

No water, not yet. ]

You'll want to reapply this when the bandages are changed. Should knock a few days off the healing.

[wraithes]

[ she stills at the touch, her breathing slowing. but she doesn't draw away, remaining still as the grave as he works . . . though her lips curve upward, at the news of the evening that could have been. that was almost . . . normal. ]

I remember. [ a little ruefully; inej is hard to hit, but she has experienced her fair share of barrel brawls. and sometimes, the wraith has a bad night. and she was remiss to remember her recovery from the fight on the dock, and how long it had felt until she regained her strength. and that had been with nina's gift, easing it along.

she pushes the memory out of her mind, instead focusing on something more pleasant, which is the dinner they were supposed to have. ]

Where were you going to take me?

[ talking had helped last time, when they touched, or tried something new. so she speaks quietly, to keep his focus. ]

[ketterdamn]

[ Now that the salve is on, he can work on the bandages. This is where it fell apart, last time. Because he will have to stand to get closer, in order to reach around her middle. Nerves start to climb up his throat as he gets up, remembering the hotel. How he'd been close enough to feel her warmth through his shirt.

Focusing on unraveling part of the bandages, he steps between her knees, obviously hesitating. And then she's talking, asking him a question. Some of the tension breaks because clearly, she isn't dead. The first loop of gauze goes around her ribs and he holds it in place with one hand, keeping his fingers away from her skin. ]

Blue Swallow. [ A nicer place, close to the university district. The kind that even merchers would deign to be seen in. He isn't looking to seem respectable, he just hears it's a good place. And possibly less noisy than most of the establishments in the Barrel, which have a tendency towards raucous laughter and cramped spaces. ]

[wraithes]

[ she remains still, her back straight. she allows her eyes to close at the feeling of the bandage; not out of nervousness, but to keep her focus. because this is difficult for her, too, and focusing on breathing, and kaz's voice, helps still the moment into something peaceful, rather than terrifying.

her head tilts slightly, at the news of what restaurant they were supposed to go to. ]

Expensive. [ that's the first thought that pops into her head, though it is true that it is less crowded than the barrel. probably, anyway. still, either kaz wants to go into the rich part of town because there's something to be won there, or he legitimately wanted to take her to a nice meal.

a year ago, inej would have thought it was the prior. now, inej is fairly certain it is the latter . . . or maybe both. she would not doubt both. ] Definitely not a late-night waffle stand.

[ which are clearly the best options in ketterdam, clearly. ]

Do they have a dress code?

[ it's half a joke. ]

[ketterdamn]

[ He keeps checking her face, watching for any signs that she's too uncomfortable to keep going. Her bared ribs are being carefully covered, skin disappearing under the wraps. And he hasn't wanted to throw up yet. Not really. There's a nervous nausea at the back of his throat but their conversation helps. ]

I doubt they'd say anything if the wraith and Dirtyhands showed up however we liked. [ He finishes the coil of the bandage and secures it, fingers patting at the seams to make sure it lays flat. ] Not too tight?

[wraithes]

[ she can feel when he's finished, at the gentle pat against her side, and inej blinks her eyes open fully, a quiet laugh escaping . . . both at finishing without incident, and at kaz's comment.

too true, that the merchers dining at the blue swallow would suddenly avoid looking at them both if they ever graced them with their presence. ]

No, it is fine. [ in assurance, allowing herself to lean forward slightly, bending just enough to test the tightness of the bandages. they held true, and she did feel better. a bit less sting, in her side. she allows her shirt to drop, but doesn't push kaz away or move, not quite yet. ] Thank you. It feels better.

[ketterdamn]

[ 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.

[wraithes]

[ 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. ]

[ketterdamn]

[ 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. ]

[wraithes]

[ 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. ]

[ketterdamn]

[ 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. ]

[wraithes]

[ 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.

[ketterdamn]

[ 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. ]

[wraithes]

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. ]

[ketterdamn]

[ 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. ]

[wraithes]

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.

[ketterdamn]

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?

[wraithes]

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.

[ketterdamn]

[ 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.

[wraithes]

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. ]

[ketterdamn]

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. ]