[AIM log][Asuma & Kin][answering an ad for a room]
[takes place thursday afternoon]
It was hell, dragging all her shit up the stairs all the way to the third floor just to answer a fucking ad. Her violin case was light enough to carry. It was the heavy-ass hiking bag and duffel where her entire life's things were contained that were weighing her down. And she didn't even own any furniture. Life was shit. She'd had to lug everything all over the place answering ads in the middle of fucking winter. Lady luck was so obviously not on her side these days.
She grunted a little, taking the scrap of newsprint out of her pocket and checking the address printed on it. Apartment number 17... ah. There it was. She stalked over, thick soled, knee high boots clumping solidly on the floorboards. Flicking strands of neon-pink streaked hair out of her face, she pounded on the flimsy door. Lysgar Street was never known for its high quality accomodations. Good to know it stood for every single apartment building up and down it.
And the accommodations, no doubt, wouldn’t have impressed; even after the addition of a woman and her feminine touch, the apartment was still pretty barren and empty. At least some of that could be seen a minute or so later when the flimsy door (which still had a pink paper heart haphazardly taped to it) opened in response to her, ahem, polite knocking.
If it wasn’t for the fact that it was still too damn cold outside to be wandering around and that he’d hit up almost every place within walking distance with an application (whether they were accepting or not), Asuma probably wouldn’t have been home to answer in the first place. But he was, because he was damn tired of wandering around like he had for the last two weeks, and you needed to give these places time to call you back anyway, right? So there he was, one hand on the doorknob and the other on the doorjam with a cigarette between the first and second fingers, giving the unknown woman a slightly curious (if dubiously speculating) look.
She didn’t look like anyone from around 311. Was she a friend of Ino’s or something? “Can I help you?”
"Answering your ad," replied Kin curtly. It wasn't really meant to be rude, and she could be nice when she wanted to. Usually. She'd just been chilled from two days, ok, a day and a half, of living on the streets. It'd have been nice to have gotten a little warning before getting kicked out of her apartment.
Sure, she shouldn't have kicked the jerk in the balls with her steel-toed boots, or given him two black eyes, or even dislocated his shoulder in the first place, but damn it, a girl had to look out for herself. Anyway, he should have learnt that no really meant no. If he'd wanted an easy lay, there were prostitutes aplenty haunting the alleyways. Asshole.
Attempting to sound a little more polite, she added, "I'm looking for a place to stay, 'sall. I got a job, pay all my bills on time. Don't cause any trouble unless somebody else starts it." Mostly. "Might make a little noise from time to time." She lifted the violin case she carried. "But that's it, really."
She might be in desperate straits, but now really wasn't the time to advertise it. Wouldn't be the first time she'd lived on the streets in the middle of winter. Homeless shelters sucked, but they were better than nothing.
I’m looking for a place to stay.
He blinked and glanced down at the violin case when she hefted it, caught sight of the overstuffed duffel bag and the slip of newspaper in her free hand. Ah, replying to that ad for the third room, then. It was surprisingly how quickly people were responding to that. Ino barely a week after he’d moved in, and now this lady only a few days later. Coupled with the surprising gift from Nanao for Valentine’s Day, money was starting to look like it would be much less tight for the next two months.
He leaned back from the door, stuck the cigarette back between his lips, and opened the door wider in a ‘come-on-in’ gesture. The apartment really was empty, not even a couch in the living area, and combined with the old jeans and ratty tee-shirt the current tenant was wearing, it probably wasn’t the most welcoming place. But hey, it was warm.
“It’s not the greatest place,” he admitted - wow, that was an understatement - “but the rent’s cheaper with three people than two. Don’t really care what you do as long as nothing gets burned down. And noise doesn’t matter here, seeing as the walls are too damn thin to matter.”
At the moment, the lack of ambience in the place didn't bother Kin one bit. Not like she had any contribute herself anyway. Her entire life fit in two bags and a violin case. What did it matter that the place was bare? All she really wanted was a roof over her head, and if it happened to be warm, even better. After a couple nights out on the streets, anything behind lock and key would be a luxury.
"I get to see the room?" she asked, looking around the place curiously. It was neat, if nothing else, not that there was much to keep neat. "You said three ways. Who's the other?"
“Her name’s Ino.” Once she stepped into the place he pushed the door closed behind her, but didn’t lock it. There wasn’t really any point - give it a good shove and the lock wouldn’t hold, anyway. “She’s at work at the moment. Won’t be back ‘til late - I think she said she was closing tonight.”
To the left was a kitchen - clean, or as clean as any kitchen could get in this place - followed by a row of doors. All were open; the one furthest down mostly empty except for a bed shoved under the window, the one in the middle definitely lived in and most definitely the abode of the other woman in question (it was very color coordinated), and the third by the kitchen empty and on the dusty side.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight to his good leg, remaining by the door as she looked around. “If it’s good I can get the sublease from the landlord later.”
Kin poked her head in the empty room the man'd indicated. It was dusty and bare, quite unoccupied, which was fine for Kin. The window looked out towards yet another ugly building, but she wasn't there for the view. The other rooms had already proudly indicated that they were occupied. "Sure. Looks good. I'll take it."
She turned to the man. "'Fore I sign anything, are there any rules or shit like that that I ought to know about?" It was always better to know what one was getting into before signing on the dotted line. She'd learnt that the hard way once, and it had taken just the one lesson to make her a wary citizen of the world.
The man gave a shrug, obviously concerned about the question. “Not really. Technically there are no animals allowed, but several people in the complex have pets anyway. No background check required, don’t have to sign away your soul. Don’t do anything stupid like get in a fight or bring the cops in, though I doubt that’d get you kicked out. Just pay the rent on time is all, really.”
Asuma considered her a moment, cigarette dangling from his lips, taking in her dyed hair and oversized shoes and bag that looked like it might very well carry everything she owned just now. Boy, did he know that feeling. “I’m Asuma, by the way.”
Good enough, she decided. She rarely got into fights. That last one had been coming on for a while, anyway. "Kin." She set her duffel and violin case down on the floor, sighing with a little relief as her tense arm muscles relaxed from carrying their burden. She shoved her hands in her coat pockets, though she was sweltering underneath it both from the humid heat in the building and the effort it had taken her to climb up three flights of stairs with everything she owned in the world.
Figured that she'd be subleasing from a man. Well, so long as he kept his hands to himself, they'd work out just fine, but it was better to be safe than sorry. "Generally get along with people, but I've got to make sure you know. I don't take too kindly to people trying to feel up my skirt or get fresh with me. Last one got kicked in the crotch with steel-toed boots for the effort. Now, if that's going to be a problem, I'll leave now, else I'll take the room."
That earned another blink, but the brief surprise at her statement quickly morphed into faint amusement. It was sad, really, to have someone so suspicious automatically just because he was a guy. He supposed it was just the area.
“That’s two people now who’ve implied I was a pervert as soon as they met me,” he said wryly. Was he unconsciously giving off dirty old man vibes or something? “I keep my hands to myself.”
He moved forward then, heading back toward his room in the corner, unable to keep the slight limp out of his gait - it had been a long week, and too many times up and down those stairs - and added, as he passed her, “You don’t look legal, anyway.” No, there wasn’t still a hint of a smile around his cigarette as he said that. "Why do you ask?"
If she weren't so desperate for a room, Kin might have decked him one for that last statement, but that meant that she'd have to dump her heavy pack and then walk across the room in this sweltering heat. That was just too much work for a throwaway comment. Not worth it, not when it meant she might lose the room. "Last guy who did that to me cost me my apartment. I ain't losing a perfectly good apartment because a man can't keep his dick in his pants."
There. It was said. She knew how to protect herself and if they were going to be sharing a space together, he might as well know it right from the start. That way, if he tried some hanky panky, she could punch him without any regrets (not that she'd have many if he'd tried to get horny on her, anyway). Watching him limp across the room gave Kin a little sense of relief. Not much, but just enough. If he had a gimp leg, she'd at least have something up on him.
He pulled one hand from his pocket to wave it negligently, frankly unperturbed by her words. “I keep that to myself, too,” he replied, not bothering to turn to speak to her directly. It was a small apartment; he didn’t need to face her for her to hear him. Asuma did, however, pause in the doorway to his room, resting one hand on the frame and glancing back to where she stood. “There’s food and beer in the kitchen, though not much. I’ll get the paperwork tonight and another key made tomorrow morning.”
Assuming that she was, of course, still here tomorrow morning and hadn’t changed her mind due to the sex of one of her room mates.
Kin wasn't about to change her mind about a perfectly decent apartment with rent she could afford. Getting out of the cold was currently top of her list, and if this place wasn't warm enough for her, she might as well move to Hawai'i. She'd definitely be there tomorrow morning, and the morning after that, and quite a few mornings after that, if she could manage it. "Sounds good."
Seeing that Asuma was treating the matter as closed, Kin considered it settled. She nodded at him then, and turned to move her things into her room. It would serve her purposes well.
It was hell, dragging all her shit up the stairs all the way to the third floor just to answer a fucking ad. Her violin case was light enough to carry. It was the heavy-ass hiking bag and duffel where her entire life's things were contained that were weighing her down. And she didn't even own any furniture. Life was shit. She'd had to lug everything all over the place answering ads in the middle of fucking winter. Lady luck was so obviously not on her side these days.
She grunted a little, taking the scrap of newsprint out of her pocket and checking the address printed on it. Apartment number 17... ah. There it was. She stalked over, thick soled, knee high boots clumping solidly on the floorboards. Flicking strands of neon-pink streaked hair out of her face, she pounded on the flimsy door. Lysgar Street was never known for its high quality accomodations. Good to know it stood for every single apartment building up and down it.
And the accommodations, no doubt, wouldn’t have impressed; even after the addition of a woman and her feminine touch, the apartment was still pretty barren and empty. At least some of that could be seen a minute or so later when the flimsy door (which still had a pink paper heart haphazardly taped to it) opened in response to her, ahem, polite knocking.
If it wasn’t for the fact that it was still too damn cold outside to be wandering around and that he’d hit up almost every place within walking distance with an application (whether they were accepting or not), Asuma probably wouldn’t have been home to answer in the first place. But he was, because he was damn tired of wandering around like he had for the last two weeks, and you needed to give these places time to call you back anyway, right? So there he was, one hand on the doorknob and the other on the doorjam with a cigarette between the first and second fingers, giving the unknown woman a slightly curious (if dubiously speculating) look.
She didn’t look like anyone from around 311. Was she a friend of Ino’s or something? “Can I help you?”
"Answering your ad," replied Kin curtly. It wasn't really meant to be rude, and she could be nice when she wanted to. Usually. She'd just been chilled from two days, ok, a day and a half, of living on the streets. It'd have been nice to have gotten a little warning before getting kicked out of her apartment.
Sure, she shouldn't have kicked the jerk in the balls with her steel-toed boots, or given him two black eyes, or even dislocated his shoulder in the first place, but damn it, a girl had to look out for herself. Anyway, he should have learnt that no really meant no. If he'd wanted an easy lay, there were prostitutes aplenty haunting the alleyways. Asshole.
Attempting to sound a little more polite, she added, "I'm looking for a place to stay, 'sall. I got a job, pay all my bills on time. Don't cause any trouble unless somebody else starts it." Mostly. "Might make a little noise from time to time." She lifted the violin case she carried. "But that's it, really."
She might be in desperate straits, but now really wasn't the time to advertise it. Wouldn't be the first time she'd lived on the streets in the middle of winter. Homeless shelters sucked, but they were better than nothing.
I’m looking for a place to stay.
He blinked and glanced down at the violin case when she hefted it, caught sight of the overstuffed duffel bag and the slip of newspaper in her free hand. Ah, replying to that ad for the third room, then. It was surprisingly how quickly people were responding to that. Ino barely a week after he’d moved in, and now this lady only a few days later. Coupled with the surprising gift from Nanao for Valentine’s Day, money was starting to look like it would be much less tight for the next two months.
He leaned back from the door, stuck the cigarette back between his lips, and opened the door wider in a ‘come-on-in’ gesture. The apartment really was empty, not even a couch in the living area, and combined with the old jeans and ratty tee-shirt the current tenant was wearing, it probably wasn’t the most welcoming place. But hey, it was warm.
“It’s not the greatest place,” he admitted - wow, that was an understatement - “but the rent’s cheaper with three people than two. Don’t really care what you do as long as nothing gets burned down. And noise doesn’t matter here, seeing as the walls are too damn thin to matter.”
At the moment, the lack of ambience in the place didn't bother Kin one bit. Not like she had any contribute herself anyway. Her entire life fit in two bags and a violin case. What did it matter that the place was bare? All she really wanted was a roof over her head, and if it happened to be warm, even better. After a couple nights out on the streets, anything behind lock and key would be a luxury.
"I get to see the room?" she asked, looking around the place curiously. It was neat, if nothing else, not that there was much to keep neat. "You said three ways. Who's the other?"
“Her name’s Ino.” Once she stepped into the place he pushed the door closed behind her, but didn’t lock it. There wasn’t really any point - give it a good shove and the lock wouldn’t hold, anyway. “She’s at work at the moment. Won’t be back ‘til late - I think she said she was closing tonight.”
To the left was a kitchen - clean, or as clean as any kitchen could get in this place - followed by a row of doors. All were open; the one furthest down mostly empty except for a bed shoved under the window, the one in the middle definitely lived in and most definitely the abode of the other woman in question (it was very color coordinated), and the third by the kitchen empty and on the dusty side.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight to his good leg, remaining by the door as she looked around. “If it’s good I can get the sublease from the landlord later.”
Kin poked her head in the empty room the man'd indicated. It was dusty and bare, quite unoccupied, which was fine for Kin. The window looked out towards yet another ugly building, but she wasn't there for the view. The other rooms had already proudly indicated that they were occupied. "Sure. Looks good. I'll take it."
She turned to the man. "'Fore I sign anything, are there any rules or shit like that that I ought to know about?" It was always better to know what one was getting into before signing on the dotted line. She'd learnt that the hard way once, and it had taken just the one lesson to make her a wary citizen of the world.
The man gave a shrug, obviously concerned about the question. “Not really. Technically there are no animals allowed, but several people in the complex have pets anyway. No background check required, don’t have to sign away your soul. Don’t do anything stupid like get in a fight or bring the cops in, though I doubt that’d get you kicked out. Just pay the rent on time is all, really.”
Asuma considered her a moment, cigarette dangling from his lips, taking in her dyed hair and oversized shoes and bag that looked like it might very well carry everything she owned just now. Boy, did he know that feeling. “I’m Asuma, by the way.”
Good enough, she decided. She rarely got into fights. That last one had been coming on for a while, anyway. "Kin." She set her duffel and violin case down on the floor, sighing with a little relief as her tense arm muscles relaxed from carrying their burden. She shoved her hands in her coat pockets, though she was sweltering underneath it both from the humid heat in the building and the effort it had taken her to climb up three flights of stairs with everything she owned in the world.
Figured that she'd be subleasing from a man. Well, so long as he kept his hands to himself, they'd work out just fine, but it was better to be safe than sorry. "Generally get along with people, but I've got to make sure you know. I don't take too kindly to people trying to feel up my skirt or get fresh with me. Last one got kicked in the crotch with steel-toed boots for the effort. Now, if that's going to be a problem, I'll leave now, else I'll take the room."
That earned another blink, but the brief surprise at her statement quickly morphed into faint amusement. It was sad, really, to have someone so suspicious automatically just because he was a guy. He supposed it was just the area.
“That’s two people now who’ve implied I was a pervert as soon as they met me,” he said wryly. Was he unconsciously giving off dirty old man vibes or something? “I keep my hands to myself.”
He moved forward then, heading back toward his room in the corner, unable to keep the slight limp out of his gait - it had been a long week, and too many times up and down those stairs - and added, as he passed her, “You don’t look legal, anyway.” No, there wasn’t still a hint of a smile around his cigarette as he said that. "Why do you ask?"
If she weren't so desperate for a room, Kin might have decked him one for that last statement, but that meant that she'd have to dump her heavy pack and then walk across the room in this sweltering heat. That was just too much work for a throwaway comment. Not worth it, not when it meant she might lose the room. "Last guy who did that to me cost me my apartment. I ain't losing a perfectly good apartment because a man can't keep his dick in his pants."
There. It was said. She knew how to protect herself and if they were going to be sharing a space together, he might as well know it right from the start. That way, if he tried some hanky panky, she could punch him without any regrets (not that she'd have many if he'd tried to get horny on her, anyway). Watching him limp across the room gave Kin a little sense of relief. Not much, but just enough. If he had a gimp leg, she'd at least have something up on him.
He pulled one hand from his pocket to wave it negligently, frankly unperturbed by her words. “I keep that to myself, too,” he replied, not bothering to turn to speak to her directly. It was a small apartment; he didn’t need to face her for her to hear him. Asuma did, however, pause in the doorway to his room, resting one hand on the frame and glancing back to where she stood. “There’s food and beer in the kitchen, though not much. I’ll get the paperwork tonight and another key made tomorrow morning.”
Assuming that she was, of course, still here tomorrow morning and hadn’t changed her mind due to the sex of one of her room mates.
Kin wasn't about to change her mind about a perfectly decent apartment with rent she could afford. Getting out of the cold was currently top of her list, and if this place wasn't warm enough for her, she might as well move to Hawai'i. She'd definitely be there tomorrow morning, and the morning after that, and quite a few mornings after that, if she could manage it. "Sounds good."
Seeing that Asuma was treating the matter as closed, Kin considered it settled. She nodded at him then, and turned to move her things into her room. It would serve her purposes well.