who will wipe this blood away | Glowfic Constellation

under_our_knives

Hak Jauhung doesn't open his eyes at first, because this isn't his first or tenth or thousandth rodeo. He sits with the headache for a minute, lying down on the sofa and listening to the drone of the radio he left on in the background, waiting for his body to be awake enough that he can be pretty confident he is in fact actually awake. Then, without opening his eyes, he feels around for the bottle he knows will be somewhere on the floor near the sofa and—there. Found it. He takes a long swig of the lukewarm liquor and in his empty stomach it doesn't take long for it to start to dull the edges of the pain. Then he opens his eyes.

Not that it makes much of a difference. Other than the slivers of light seeping through the crack under his door and blinds, his room is perfectly dark. But still, hangover headaches take no names and better safe than sorry.

He lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag as he sits up—ow, his lower back hurts, what happened last night?—then blows it out and watches the smoke form patterns in the air as it swirls and catches what scant light is available to see by. Feeling much better after his fix, he enables his image link and the soft blue screen appears in front of him, floating midair and neither emitting nor reflecting any light, visible only to him. The image implant was a gift from Zyu Hoi—Jauhung is pretty sure that's not his actual name, as the hanzi he uses mean "crimson" and "victory", which really is very much—and Jauhung does find it very useful. It means he doesn't have to get off his sofa until he actually feels like it, and he can just check his notifications and the news and whatever else there. Like the little blinking symbol in a corner indicating that he has voicemail from an unknown number.

That's weird. Well, first he'll check memoria's emails to verify that the couple new ones he got since yesterday aren't at all interesting, but then, yes, he'll listen to it.

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under_our_knives

He switches, too. "Eat grass. I can get you some, if you want it so badly."

with-the-jawbone-of-an-ass

"Have I ever wanted salad?" she asks, belying her earlier difficulties. "Lions eat meat, baby."

under_our_knives

He starts walking and gestures at a bird over yonder. "Not a lot of game in the big city but I'm sure you'll figure it out."

with-the-jawbone-of-an-ass

She extends a thread of magical energy, which Jauhung can just barely perceive. The bird flies alongside them for a few moments, and Ariel looks it over critically.

"It's all scabrous and shit," she reports, releasing it to flap away. "Not much of a mouthful, either. I probably won't have to give up hunting entirely... just supplement it. What's the good street food in this neighborhood?"

They reach the gate out into the port authority. It's locked.

under_our_knives

"I wouldn't know," he says, shrugging and almost running facefirst into the gate. Which he had just walked through to get here.

It's not even 5:30PM yet.

The fuck?

with-the-jawbone-of-an-ass

"Careful, so lou, your head's full of chrome but it's not that full of chrome."

The joke is automatic; the rest of Ariel has gone serious. She traces her fingers along the steel. "Guessing this wasn't locked when you came in?"

under_our_knives

"It wasn't." He enables his image link and hooks into the wireless matrix to try to figure out why this'd happen. Are opening hours that strict? Is there anything in the news? He might message Zyu Hoi.

(The thought of trying to find someone official and asking what's up doesn't even cross his mind.)

with-the-jawbone-of-an-ass

Opening hours? What's he talking about? Port 44 has been closed all day. In fact, the whole harbor has been. The news site says there's reports of criminal activity nearby, though it's only at a level-3 alert, which is to say, the Hong Kong minimum.

Ariel's got her eyes closed, and her skin's flickering with light so faint the setting sun mostly renders it invisible. "...Lion says he's sensing dragon lines nearby. Shoddy work, the kind some gangbanger shaman puts up in fifteen minutes if he's expecting a fight."

under_our_knives

"...are you expecting a fight? I'm no good in a fight."

with-the-jawbone-of-an-ass

"What. Are you talking about."

under_our_knives

"I don't have anyone after me, far as I know, so it's gotta be you. Or Raymond, I guess."

with-the-jawbone-of-an-ass

"No, shut up, we'll talk about that later. You're no good in a fight? When we were in middle school I saw you break a grown man's femur. That isn't one of the easy bones."

under_our_knives

"That was then," he shrugs. "This is now."

with-the-jawbone-of-an-ass

"What did they do to you?" she asks quietly. "I don't know who, but. What happened? Somebody took the soul out of you."

under_our_knives

He shrugs again. "Let's look for a way around." He types up a quick message to Zyu Hoi then dismisses his link. ...and belatedly remembers that other people can't see it. "News says there's been criminal activity nearby and the whole harbour was meant to be closed today, by the way."

with-the-jawbone-of-an-ass

"...yeah. Yeah, a way around."

She'll lead the way. Since Jauhung's no good in a fight.

under_our_knives

Oh cool he much prefers not having to take the lead. He'll follow.

Zyu Hoi

Jauhung gets a reply pretty quickly.

no clue, sorry kid

with-the-jawbone-of-an-ass

There's a smaller gate a little ways back, leading into Port 45. It's got an honest-to-God padlock on it, a big heavy piece of pig iron.

Ariel snorts. "Grug want lock gate. Grug protect imports. Grug get big metal lock."

under_our_knives

"Hm." How big is that padlock exactly, is it something he could pick with some grumption and a big enough lockpick?

The lock's big, but the mechanism is pretty reasonably sized. He could get at it with a couple of hairpins.

under_our_knives

"Give me twenty seconds," he says, and he starts to work at it. With actual lockpicks. Normal-sized ones, that is, which he just kind of always has on him, for whenever he may need them.

It takes him twelve seconds.

with-the-jawbone-of-an-ass

"Damn," Ariel says. "Grug better have insurance."

They head into Port 45. It's somehow even shittier than 44 - there's crates scattered everywhere, not to mention used needles, empty bottles and other general detritus.

under_our_knives

Is Ariel going to lead the way again or was that a short-lived dream?

with-the-jawbone-of-an-ass