[ OPEN ] lethargy got a hold on me

[killuwatt]

Who: Killua Zoldyck and whoever wants to drop in on him
When: end-ish of February through end of March
Where: around Aefenglom
What: recovering from cult activities, getting jacked, clothes shopping, quests
Warnings: mentions of last month's plot and trauma, probably also some teen romance (nothing more than pg-13 tho)

Open and closed prompts in the headers below:

⚡ CLOSED | stir-crazy
⚡ OPEN | do you even lift bro
⚡ OPEN | walk walk fashion baby


PM this journal or hit me up @ gunsandchocolate if you want to plot out something else and I can whip up a custom starter.

Comments

closed to gon, late feb.

[killuwatt]

[ If you asked Killua bluntly, he'd say the infirmary was worse than getting tortured. They made him stay for almost two whole weeks on bedrest, barely allowed to get up and walk around the tiny room where he'd been kept in isolation, healers hovering over him day in and day out with their spells and potions and tests. It's lucky they at least allowed Gon to stay and calm Killua in those first few hours, but if he'd been asked to leave after that, he must have thrown quite a fit. Killua doesn't know for sure; he only knows that he doesn't remember any span of time during which Gon wasn't beside him. The single room had turned into a double, even though one patient was significantly less infected than the other.

For how long they'd kept him there, Killua's sure the healers are well and truly happy to be rid of him. Killua has been insufferable the last few days.

Even when they finally return back to their cottage, he finds it doesn't much lift his mood. Killua's hands and forearms are still swathed in bandages, reminiscent slightly of the time he'd injured his hands badly in Greed Island, but this time it's mostly to hide the lingering black bruising and signs of the infection. If he follows the strict instructions to return for regular sessions of cleansing and healing, he was told, then that too should eventually fade, but sometimes the Cwyld leaves its marks on those who suffer a significant enough infection.

He's supposed to be careful using his magic too, and yet also be careful to use it enough that his body doesn't get overwhelmed. His Bonded is instructed to stay with him, to help him cycle the magic safely and lend strength to their Bond.

It's all so... annoying. Even Gon. Killua's tired of being treated like something fragile and broken. He's not used to it, and he hates it. For someone who likes lounging about and having fun on his own whims, he's always hated actual rest. Maybe it's because he simply doesn't know how to achieve it. ]

Uuugh! [ Killua groans loudly as soon as the door is shut behind them. ]

Fucking finally! I was so sick of those crotchety old hags telling me what to do!

[freecshow]

[Gon had sensed easily, and also understood, Killua's irritation and exasperation. he'd been beside Killua the entire time, even times Killua wasn't awake—watchful and anxious, of course, to the point of being fussy and fretting. Gon could tell it wore on Killua eventually, and managed to forcibly reign himself a little. he understood the feeling, of course. he didn't want Killua to feel weak, or that he'd committed some big failing. because neither of those things were true—Gon's behavior around Killua's would be his truest affirmation of that, like many of the other things they simply... did...rather than talked about.

that was a little hard, certainly—but so more too was keeping his hands off of Killua. he'd gotten spoiled, so used to curling up with him and...whatever, whenever he wanted. whenever they had down time. it had become routine and so natural, woven into their lexicon and modes of unspoken language, adding to its complexity and depth. but Gon had to be patient, so he was—even if he felt frustrated.

as they headed home, Gon was reviewing all of the stipulations of Killua's recovery in his head where he could, too distracted by the thrill of the two of them being out of the hospital—though Gon was discharged almost two weeks earlier than Killua. he couldn't just leave him behind. so on their walk home, the entire time, Gon's tail was swaying in great (but positive) agitation, though he tried to keep his energy subdued as they walked, keeping his demeanor light and cheery.

once they're finally home, and Killua erupts, Gon blinks. his shoulders lift a little as he laughs, finding it funny Killua held that in all the way home. did he think the Witches had been spying on him on the way home?]

Yeah! Well, now you can relax.

[being bedridden was not the same as relaxing. Gon knew this well. Gon carefully removes his hoof-boots, then hangs up his bag. he can't help the way his eyes snag on Killua, a fluttering in his chest, grateful to be back home with him.]

I can make us some tea? I'm pretty sure our juice has probably gone bad by now.

[which was more Gon's than Killua's, anyway.]

[killuwatt]

The last thing I want is to lounge around right now and drink tea.

[ Killua snaps back, shooting Gon an offended look. ]

I want to go somewhere. Do something.

Let's go get ice cream.

[freecshow]

Oh.

[Gon's such a homebody sometimes, despite also being so wild and adventurous. he feels a little bad for not considering that.]

Right... They didn't really have treats at the hospital.

[Gon laughs a little nervously, and grabs his bag again. he looks content to leave his boots off, though; he wants the keratin to breathe a bit.]

Okay! Let's go!

[Gon blinks, holding the straps of his bag as they rest across his shoulders.]

Ah, unless you wanted to change or something real quick?

[killuwatt]

Yeah... that's not a bad idea. Gimme a minute.

[ Killua feels so out of place in their own home suddenly. It feels strange, almost new. He knows where everything is, but he has to stop to think about it anyway, still taking it all in with the strange, lingering sense like it might just be another hallucination.

But he doesn't want Gon to catch on.

Killua ducks into the bedroom, digging through the closet and drawers to find more colorful clothing. Gon had brought him some fresh things while he was stuck at the infirmary, but it's still nice to put something on that doesn't have the smell of herbs and antiseptic.

After a few minutes, he emerges in a different outfit with a bit more color to it, even if the colors don't all match.

It's still fairly early in the day, and warming up outside. It'll be nice to be in the sun. ]

Ready! I wanna go to the shopping district. I saw an ice cream parlor over there once but it was closed then because of the snow... But the snow's gone now! I bet they're open now.

OPEN | do you even lift bro

[killuwatt]

[ So long on bedrest would make anyone feel antsy. For Killua, who's used to being active every day on top of his regular workouts, it was beyond frustrating. He hasn't actually lost any of his strength, not in the technical sense, but he can't help but feel like he needs to make up for it somehow anyway. Besides, he could use the distraction.

The area around the Barracks usually has some open space for working out, training and sparring.

You might find him doing pull-ups off a sturdy bar somewhere, occasionally spinning like a gymnast over it, doing a handstand with one or two of his still-bandaged hands. Or doing sit-up dangling by his knees, one after the other like it's nothing. Sometimes, he finds larger, empty training areas, making sure his reflexes and flexibility are back to normal with various flips and jumps, complex martial arts moves or even moves that look more like some sort of break dance, whatever he's in the mood for.

He practices his magic, too. One might see or even feel the electricity in the air, powerful arcs of it bouncing between his hands, charring wooden posts he's blasting for practice. Warding magic isn't his strong suit, but all the more reason to practice it as well.

If a passer-by looks like they might be up for it, Killua will invite them to train with him: ]

Hey. Wanna spar? I'll warn you. I don't go easy.

[ Or maybe magic is more your speed? ]

I'm practicing disarming and dispelling. Try to curse me or something.

[battlebound]

( Steak is a familiar face anywhere there's space to work out. it's hard to mistake flaming red hair, curled horns and two swords, but today there's a particular intensity to the way he wields those swords, cutting through the air as though doing so will prevent anything from touching him.

once upon a time, on Tierra, that was true. but the rules are different here, and he's known that for a long time, but he's never truly felt the need to change tactics before recent events.

truthfully, the best tactic is to practice his magic, which he's doing, but without the Coven, it's slow going. and he doesn't want to practice magic all the time. his swords still lie at his heart, at his core, and working off some steam with them feels good.

which is why, when he's on his way back from a water break and a strange young man (well, young-looking. age isn't always made clear by looking at a person) asks him to spar, Steak turns his attention to him and smiles. )

Sure. Weapons or fists?

[killuwatt]

[ Killua had seen him around the barracks when he'd been looking for a quiet place for himself to train, and had noticed the way the red-haired man moved then. It's only luck that he happens to pass by when Killua can call out to him. It's difficult finding someone who can actually give him a good sparring session. ]

You can use your weapons. I don't need any.

To be clear, I won't use any offensive magic either. Deal?

[battlebound]

( that gets Steak's attention. it's a show of confidence reminiscent of something he would say. )

Deal. No weapons for either of us.

( he can't lose face and take the easier option, can he? besides, it's a good idea to practice his hand to hand combat as much as his swordfighting. )

OPEN | walk walk fashion baby

[killuwatt]

[ The days are starting to get warmer, and Killua is on the hunt for something he won't get too hot in. Clothes-shopping in an old timey dump like this is a huge pain in the ass, and they don't even have zippers. What a constant drag. Who has magic, but no zippers?

It seems comfortable shorts are a mystery to these folks too. As are tank tops.

Killua groans, rubbing his forehead in annoyance as he tries to explain, for the third time, that he wants a shirt made without sleeves that isn't for swimming, sleeping, or wearing under something else. ]

Yeah, yeah. I heard you the first time, old man. I don't care if you think it'll look stupid or unfashionable or scandalous or whatever the hell you keep saying.

I'll go somewhere else then!

[ He turns suddenly, making eye contact with the first person who catches his eye and might look fairly reasonable, whatever that means. Are they just passing by? Are they also looking at the tailor's catalog or wares? Whatever the case, Killua asks loudly, either genuinely wanting an answer or seeking to intimidate the tailor. Or both. ]

Wearing three layers in summer is completely stupid, right?

[al_bhed]

[Rikku is less 'passing by' and more 'tagging along.' She bumped into Killua out on the street and basically invited herself along for his shopping trip. It's nice to spend time with a friend in low-stakes circumstances like this.

Part of spending time with a friend, of course, is being his hype-woman.]

Yeah, it's really stupid! Do you want us all die of heat stroke?

[Seriously.

To Killua, she adds:]

At least you didn't get the 'you don't want people thinking you're loose woman' lecture.

[killuwatt]

Exactly!

[ Killua backs her up when she backs him up, and they stand there, two annoying teenagers harassing this poor Victorian tailor... yikes. ]

Oh, ew. That's gross. You should just punch anyone who says that and they'll stop worrying about what you're wearing and worrying more about the fact you're punching them.

[ The tailor begins to look... alarmed. They're probably going to get kicked out. ]

[al_bhed]

That's a great idea! Next time, they'll regret calling me names telling me what I can and can't wear.

[She punches her fist into palm and grins. The tailor's expression of alarm deepens.]

I don't get why people here get so worked up over something as stupid as clothing, you know?

inevitable that fashion should reunite them again

[cointosser]

[Jaskier has taken to quiet walks through the business district now he could do so without... without some sort of breakdown (usually), or a personal bodyguard (Geralt), or his knife clutched in his hand (though it was currently strapped to his thigh, hidden behind the bottom edges of his doublet.)

Good practice. For becoming human again, maybe.

He does make a point of not lingering anywhere for long, nor heading into thick crowds of people. Smaller shops are a little more comforting. No room for crowds, and there's always an easily defined exit. No need to feel trapped. No need to have any sort of feeling of panic, right?

Right. Of course. Unless, of course, one hears the voice of a monster-witch who almost killed them (who made a point of it, actually), a voice which startles one so badly they take flight like a harassed rabbit. Or attempt to. Jaskier's attempt ends up with him tripping over a mannequin display that crashes to the floor.] Fuck. That's -- no, I've got it, sorry, accidents happen --

[Sure, he asked Geralt to help Killua, and, logically, suspects the boy had no choice. That doesn't make things easier. But its inevitable that the poor soul Killua was harassing takes the opportunity to duck away as Jaskier waves away the tailor after righting the mannequin.]

Ah. It's you. [Jaskier makes a point of not returning the eye contact. But he knows the voice well.] I see your priorities haven't changed.

fashion wizard strikes again

[killuwatt]

[ This time, the poor tailor gets to make his escape; Killua is immediately distracted. The familiar voice gets to him too, if not in the same way exactly. His stomach twists uncomfortably. What is that feeling? ...guilt?

He looks away. ]

Don't dunk on me for going out shopping when you're here too.

[ An awkward beat of silence. Killua sticks his hands in his pockets, staring at the mannequin beside Jaskier. ]

Glad to see you in one piece.

soon jaskier will rise to claim his rightful title

[cointosser]

[Jaskier pauses with a frown.] Dunk on...? [These damn millennials. It takes a moment.] Oh, you assume I'm insulting you. Far from it.

[All right, it had come out a little petty, maybe. But it's genuine, too. He wishes he had the energy to argue over things that didn't matter. Like clothing. Gods, he still dresses like utter shit, doesn't he?

But he's back to... well, what Jaskier can only assume is normal for him, which is being moody and argumentative, and that's an honest relief. He smiles with a snort.] How sincere. [He can't help it.] You, too. With all your exuberance of a throttled cat. How are you doing? What are you harassing this poor man for?

[gynvael]

[ The only reason Geralt finds himself in a clothing shop is because the shouting coming out of it is unmistakable. He pauses just outside its doors before stepping in. His gaze lands on the hassled shopkeeper before settling on Killua.

Mm. Yeah. About what he expected. ]

It's spring. [ Only the faintest glint in his eyes indicates he's missing the point on purpose. Geralt's opinions on fashion are non-existent. His clothes are entirely functional and no one can be blamed for thinking he only owns one outfit. Because it's pretty close to the truth. In the warmer weather, the only thing he's done is roll the sleeves up. ]

I see you're up and about causing trouble again.

[killuwatt]

Real helpful, old man.

[ With Geralt's arrival though, Killua quickly loses interest in harassing the shopkeeper (he can always come back to this later). He turns around, waving a hand over his shoulder dismissively. ]

Forget it. I'll go look somewhere with looser morals or whatever you were saying earlier.

Come on.

[ That last is directed at Geralt. Killua doesn't want to talk in here, leading the way out to the street briskly where the crowds of people and buzz of dozens over voices will drown out any uncomfortable things he might say that he still feels guilty about. ]

[gynvael]

[ Geralt has no interest in lingering here, either, so he slips out the door with Killua as quickly as he came in. It shuts behind them, cutting off the man inside mid-sentence.

Outside, Geralt steps to the side to narrowly avoid colliding with a woman carrying a rainbow array of flowers larger than her head. ]

You look better.

[ He hasn't seen Killua since the boy left the Coven's infirmary, though he knows Gon has likely been with him. Beyond that -- he knows there are certain things Killua would rather not talk about. In truth, Geralt doesn't want to broach it, either. What else is there to say? Jaskier has kept it to himself, unaware that Killua has already told Geralt, and that's more of an indication than anything. ]

[sparkofgoodness]

[ Crowley had paused to look in the window of the shop, always curious, and then stuck around on hearing the heated discussion.

Gossip is something he's always down for, especially when it's over something completely inconsequential like fashion. He's wearing a light jacket himself, a thin shirt underneath that does in fact have long sleeves... but it isn't three layers, admittedly. ]

Depends on the layers.

[ An honest reply. What are the three layers we are discussing here, Killua? ]

[killuwatt]

[ Killua looks momentarily surprised, head turning to look over at the guy who spoke up. With a comment he hadn't considered. ]

...that's true. But it's not like they mean layered tank tops for a cool multi-colored look. They mean like... an undershirt and a shirt and then a jacket and probably one of those annoying vests too, and a bunch of people wear ties even in summer! Isn't that crazy?

[ Killua has no reason to think this guy will have any idea what he's talking about, but he's just venting here, okay? Sometimes you just want to wear a tank top but faux Victorian-land refuses to understand. ]

(( ooc: so sorry about the delay! RL got a bit busy! ))

[sparkofgoodness]

[ Mmmm. Ties and everything. Crowley scrunches up his face, mulling that over. ]

Could leave the tie loose, unbutton the vest and jacket. Like an after work business casual look. Undershirt is pushing it, though.

[ He understands -- remembers, even -- the logic of that dress code but... really. No need to go back to all that stuffy layering if there's the option to move past it. Besides, surely there are places here that support alternative fashion trends? Must be enough outsiders to incite that. ]

[themogget]

[Mogget, being a cat, is probably not the person that Killua made eye contact with. None the less, he answers, because he's nearby and heard the question and because he can.]

I've seen more ridiculous clothing, but I wouldn't consider it the wisest of ideas in this climate.

[Somewhere hotter, such things often made sense in their own peculiar way, but here? It seemed like it was just asking for discomfort. Mogget lifts a paw up to clean it with a small pink tongue.]

Particularly when modesty is the only reason behind it.

[killuwatt]

[ Killua has seen many things, arguably much stranger than a talking cat. For one, the Hunter Association Chairman's secretary is a literal bean, so that's fun.

But it's still Quite Shocking to have a perfectly catlike-looking cat respond so casually while grooming itself with its little cat tongue.

The store clerk's reaction might be equally surprised, but Killua's lost all interest in him. ]

The cat talked?!

[ He immediately crouches down in front of it, staring in a way that's probably very impolite. A Turnskin? Can they do that? Talk in full animal form?? ]

Hey. What are you?

[themogget]

I'm a cat.

[He answers the question very bluntly and around the noise of his tongue laving against his paw pads. Mogget doesn't sound like a person, with his voice being made out of meows and purrs and cat-like chirps, but somehow he is still clearly understandable.

He sets his paw down.]

Obviously.

[This level of surprise is something he's grown used to. Even those in his own world don't often expect him to speak.]

Next question.