[AIM Log] [Unfiltered Rain] [Kankurou + Kin] [Unfinished/closed]
[Backdated to that flash storm a long while ago.]
Kankurou descended the steps two at a time, clasping his heavy messenger bag to his hip and squinting with a forearm shielding him from the rain like God’s Biggest Hangover Piss. Having spent the past two and a half hours arguing immigration he was glad to be out, he’d just have to manage that luxurious trudge home and protect a less-than-waterproof smoke long enough to get his final dose of nicotine in.
The rain was already spiting him, though. Shoulders hunched against the wind, collar high and gloves cradling his cigarette; he cut between the old academic and the new, heading home.
If Kin hadn't been busy shielding her face with her hands, she might have seen Kankurou in front of her. As it was, the wind, blowing shards of rainright into her face, contributed to her already obscured vision. Thus it was that she didn't even see the figure in front of her until she was almost right upon him, and even then, when she tried to slow her steps, she ended up slipping on the slick, water-covered brick walkway and crashed right into the poor sod, anyway. It was because of events like these that Kin wore boots, ones with thick rubber soles and grip. Clearly wearing chucks on a day like this was not the answer.
"Fucking ow. Shit, I'm so fucking sorry."
Swallowing a nice double lungful of smoke, Kankurou staggered and instinctively shot his hands out towards the source of disruption, steadying the body behind him. Something about having a younger sibling (and not having a heart attack each time the pipsqueak waddled near a table) set the otherwise uncharacteristic gentlemanly action afoot, until he turned to see the other student mid-sentence.
“En’t no big--Kin?” Pivoting his back to the rain flow and consciously or no tightening his grip on the human disappearing act’s upper arm, he leveled her with a hybrid scowl and/or amused furrow. “Fancy seein’ you.” Snorting, he fought back the urge to stand apprehending her in favor of the more realistic continual trek home, albeit falling into step with slow reluctance. Unsure why he even felt quite so sharply bitter, he shrugged the physical show of it off for the time being.
"No, it's your fucking fellow Lifetime TV partner." The snide remark rolled off Kin's tongue, as if she had not been avoiding him for the past three months. "Who the hell else would I be?" She wrenched herself away from the tight grip Kankurou had fastened onto her upper arm. She reached down to brush at her stained clothing. Her skirt and stockings, already damp from the driving rain, had gotten smeared with mud and dirt from her fall.
Figuring that nothing else she did would actually fix the problem, Kin started walking again, heading in the direction of Lysgar and its stifling warmth. At least she'd be dry there. "I don't know about you, but I ain't stayin' out here where it's fucking pouring," she tossed the statement over her shoulder, implicitly granting him permission to walk back with her.
“Someone with an ounce more grace, or boots,” he retorted, dark eyes casting over her dressed-down appearance and tossing aside his cigarette butt, giving up on the task. “I hate the goddamn rain,” he agreed, in suit graciously accepting her invitation in the comfortable tongue of sarcasm.
“Still flooded?” He shook his head, dislodging chunky overgrown forelocks from his vision with a vaguely interested tone.
Kin ignored his retort. She could take a few blows to the ego, and she certainly wasn't up to rising to each and every verbal barb he was going to toss her way. Instead, she focused on his other question. "Eh, don't look like this storm front's gonna leave us 'til the weekend. Lysgar's gonna end up like Noah's flood come Saturday."
Her sodden shoes squelched noisily with each step she took, and Kin took comfort in the predictable rhythm of her footsteps as she moved down the sidewalk. She counted out each rubbery beat internally, half a mind waiting out a beat as she squish-squashed down the road. Her already worn out shoes would have to be thrown out after today's excursion. Eyeing a nearby trash can as they neared the edge of the campus, she veered off their marked out course and headed towards it. Kankurou could follow or not as he desired.
Stalling in his steadfast stride he piqued a brow, leaning back over his shoulder to figure out what the hell the broad was up to. He settled to shoving both hands in the pouch of his hoodie and wandering halfway off his path enough to stay within radius of her with a skeptical look. “Goddamn ridiculous.”
He stopped when she reached the trash like some sentinel, overseeing her actions with mild interest. Nodding in the general direction of her lack of make up, he added bluntly; “Y’don’t look bad like that.”
Really, their relationship had never been one of words.
"Eh. Woke up late. Had to rush." She balanced herself on one foot as she pulled off one shoe. Tossing it into the bin with blithe disregard, she performed the same ritual with the second shoe, setting black-and-white striped stockinged feet onto the muddy ground. It wasn't as if they were going to get wetter than they already were. Her shoes had been soaked through. Straightening, she flipped a lank of sodden black hair over one shoulder and then proceeded onwards as if it were normal to walk around in the rain with stocking-clad feet.
She spared a glance for her erstwhile companion. "You don't look half bad yourself." She raised a brow at him in partial amusement. "Almost human, even."
Ever the source of befuddlement, Kankurou merely looked on as her disregarded shoes rung out in the bottom of the rain-pelleted tin with unceremonious clangs. A gentleman might be tempted to offer up his own shoes as replacement at this point, but having lived under a headstrong woman his own whole life he knew leagues better.
That and it’d take them long enough to be soaked to the underwear by the time he successfully unfastened his boots and transferred them to her, seriously.
A snort. “And otherwise?” Hardly fishing for compliments with a smirk slashed across his lips, he watched her little rain nymph stride and shouldered her roughly, summoning up the decency to raise his bag over her head without looking.
"Monstrous." The word was uttered in a completely off-hand manner, as if it was common knowledge. Kin continued walking, disregarding utterly the gentlemanly gesture of rain-shelter overhead. She continued splish-sploshing through the puddles by the roadside, tiptoeing through the broken glass by picking out spots betwixt and between the shards of bottle green. The rain, at least, had slackened somewhat, and the company wasn't half bad.
Lysgar would come looming on the corner soon enough, and Kin fumbled through her jacket pocket in search of the door key. "Our landlord's a shithead. Fucking hell. I can't even do my damn laundry any more, and I have a shitload to do. Fucker."
Kankurou descended the steps two at a time, clasping his heavy messenger bag to his hip and squinting with a forearm shielding him from the rain like God’s Biggest Hangover Piss. Having spent the past two and a half hours arguing immigration he was glad to be out, he’d just have to manage that luxurious trudge home and protect a less-than-waterproof smoke long enough to get his final dose of nicotine in.
The rain was already spiting him, though. Shoulders hunched against the wind, collar high and gloves cradling his cigarette; he cut between the old academic and the new, heading home.
If Kin hadn't been busy shielding her face with her hands, she might have seen Kankurou in front of her. As it was, the wind, blowing shards of rainright into her face, contributed to her already obscured vision. Thus it was that she didn't even see the figure in front of her until she was almost right upon him, and even then, when she tried to slow her steps, she ended up slipping on the slick, water-covered brick walkway and crashed right into the poor sod, anyway. It was because of events like these that Kin wore boots, ones with thick rubber soles and grip. Clearly wearing chucks on a day like this was not the answer.
"Fucking ow. Shit, I'm so fucking sorry."
Swallowing a nice double lungful of smoke, Kankurou staggered and instinctively shot his hands out towards the source of disruption, steadying the body behind him. Something about having a younger sibling (and not having a heart attack each time the pipsqueak waddled near a table) set the otherwise uncharacteristic gentlemanly action afoot, until he turned to see the other student mid-sentence.
“En’t no big--Kin?” Pivoting his back to the rain flow and consciously or no tightening his grip on the human disappearing act’s upper arm, he leveled her with a hybrid scowl and/or amused furrow. “Fancy seein’ you.” Snorting, he fought back the urge to stand apprehending her in favor of the more realistic continual trek home, albeit falling into step with slow reluctance. Unsure why he even felt quite so sharply bitter, he shrugged the physical show of it off for the time being.
"No, it's your fucking fellow Lifetime TV partner." The snide remark rolled off Kin's tongue, as if she had not been avoiding him for the past three months. "Who the hell else would I be?" She wrenched herself away from the tight grip Kankurou had fastened onto her upper arm. She reached down to brush at her stained clothing. Her skirt and stockings, already damp from the driving rain, had gotten smeared with mud and dirt from her fall.
Figuring that nothing else she did would actually fix the problem, Kin started walking again, heading in the direction of Lysgar and its stifling warmth. At least she'd be dry there. "I don't know about you, but I ain't stayin' out here where it's fucking pouring," she tossed the statement over her shoulder, implicitly granting him permission to walk back with her.
“Someone with an ounce more grace, or boots,” he retorted, dark eyes casting over her dressed-down appearance and tossing aside his cigarette butt, giving up on the task. “I hate the goddamn rain,” he agreed, in suit graciously accepting her invitation in the comfortable tongue of sarcasm.
“Still flooded?” He shook his head, dislodging chunky overgrown forelocks from his vision with a vaguely interested tone.
Kin ignored his retort. She could take a few blows to the ego, and she certainly wasn't up to rising to each and every verbal barb he was going to toss her way. Instead, she focused on his other question. "Eh, don't look like this storm front's gonna leave us 'til the weekend. Lysgar's gonna end up like Noah's flood come Saturday."
Her sodden shoes squelched noisily with each step she took, and Kin took comfort in the predictable rhythm of her footsteps as she moved down the sidewalk. She counted out each rubbery beat internally, half a mind waiting out a beat as she squish-squashed down the road. Her already worn out shoes would have to be thrown out after today's excursion. Eyeing a nearby trash can as they neared the edge of the campus, she veered off their marked out course and headed towards it. Kankurou could follow or not as he desired.
Stalling in his steadfast stride he piqued a brow, leaning back over his shoulder to figure out what the hell the broad was up to. He settled to shoving both hands in the pouch of his hoodie and wandering halfway off his path enough to stay within radius of her with a skeptical look. “Goddamn ridiculous.”
He stopped when she reached the trash like some sentinel, overseeing her actions with mild interest. Nodding in the general direction of her lack of make up, he added bluntly; “Y’don’t look bad like that.”
Really, their relationship had never been one of words.
"Eh. Woke up late. Had to rush." She balanced herself on one foot as she pulled off one shoe. Tossing it into the bin with blithe disregard, she performed the same ritual with the second shoe, setting black-and-white striped stockinged feet onto the muddy ground. It wasn't as if they were going to get wetter than they already were. Her shoes had been soaked through. Straightening, she flipped a lank of sodden black hair over one shoulder and then proceeded onwards as if it were normal to walk around in the rain with stocking-clad feet.
She spared a glance for her erstwhile companion. "You don't look half bad yourself." She raised a brow at him in partial amusement. "Almost human, even."
Ever the source of befuddlement, Kankurou merely looked on as her disregarded shoes rung out in the bottom of the rain-pelleted tin with unceremonious clangs. A gentleman might be tempted to offer up his own shoes as replacement at this point, but having lived under a headstrong woman his own whole life he knew leagues better.
That and it’d take them long enough to be soaked to the underwear by the time he successfully unfastened his boots and transferred them to her, seriously.
A snort. “And otherwise?” Hardly fishing for compliments with a smirk slashed across his lips, he watched her little rain nymph stride and shouldered her roughly, summoning up the decency to raise his bag over her head without looking.
"Monstrous." The word was uttered in a completely off-hand manner, as if it was common knowledge. Kin continued walking, disregarding utterly the gentlemanly gesture of rain-shelter overhead. She continued splish-sploshing through the puddles by the roadside, tiptoeing through the broken glass by picking out spots betwixt and between the shards of bottle green. The rain, at least, had slackened somewhat, and the company wasn't half bad.
Lysgar would come looming on the corner soon enough, and Kin fumbled through her jacket pocket in search of the door key. "Our landlord's a shithead. Fucking hell. I can't even do my damn laundry any more, and I have a shitload to do. Fucker."