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[evocation]

@kyna.medina | ■ ▲ ◌ ▼

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[withmeinparadise]

1971. wasn't 2031 when i left, though.

[evocation]

what year was it?

[withmeinparadise]

2015

[evocation]

well, we both might as well be mummies here

[withmeinparadise]

i dunno about you, but i'd be long gone. jungle doesn't tend to leave a lot of mummies behind.

[evocation]

they don't usually like to leave bodies laying around in nyc either
what are you doing right now, anyway?

[withmeinparadise]

talking to you

[evocation]

wanna get drunk with me instead?

[withmeinparadise]

red wings or someplace else?

[evocation]

let's go with someplace else

[withmeinparadise]

gimme a spot, i'll meet you there.

[ since, you know, being at red wings probably also means being around a bunch of people telling her how worried they were. ]

[evocation]

[Bingo. Plus, she doesn't really want to get uncomfortably and possibly emotionally wasted with an audience of people she knows and works with. Sounds like a nightmare.

Unfortunately, Red Wings is her main hang out spot, so she has to pick a place mostly at random to send him a ping.]

[withmeinparadise]

[ She picks someplace close to where he's been lounging in a rooftop garden he's definitely not supposed to be in. So he climbs down a building, as you do, and he's just about there. No big deal, it's fine.

It's not a bad place: not as well-kept as Red Wings, but not as dingy a dive as most of the other bars he's wandered into since his arrival in New Amsterdam. (Sometimes he's not in the mood to deal with Red Wings' clientele, either.) By the time Kyna gets there, he's sitting at the bar with two beers, an eye on the door so he can wave at her. ]

Over here--got a drink for you.

[ First round's on him, Kyna. No promises on the rest of 'em. ]

[evocation]

[It's nice to be somewhere a little more dive-y, actually. Kyna plops down beside him, taking the beer gratefully. She's already talked to Ian, so she's already a little emotionally wrung out.

She looks different, though—her hair's halfway down her back and if he's observant, he might notice a couple of new scars on her arms.]

My hero.

[withmeinparadise]

That's all it takes to be your hero? [ He's trying not to look too close, aware that he'll just be sitting there admiring her, but he catches a fair amount in a quick glance. ] Woulda bought you a beer weeks ago.

[ He's teasing--sort of, anyway. And since he figures how are you? and so how was home? are off-limits... ] You didn't miss much, y'know. No new monsters to fight.

[evocation]

[She sticks her tongue out at him briefly, but mostly focuses on that whole "no new monsters" thing.]

Good thing, huh? You would have been screwed without me.

[withmeinparadise]

Eh, don't be so sure.

[ It's idle shit-talking, punctuated by a sip of beer. ]

You planning on rescuing me, next time the city's overrun?

[evocation]

[She laughs at that, which feels especially nice right now when she's feeling so unmoored.]

Maybe. Why, do you want me to?

[withmeinparadise]

Eh, wouldn't say no.

[ Usually I save myself, he wants to say, but how true is that, these days? ]

Maybe I can save you. Figure out my little, uh, superpower.

[evocation]

You know, Nathan—other Nathan. Nathan Lowell. When he first got here, he had me punch him to figure out his power.

[withmeinparadise]

Don't know 'im.

[ He swigs a sip of beer, thoughtful, swallows, and turns a little more toward her. ]

Okay. Try'n punch me.

[evocation]

[Oh boy. She raises her eyebrows, twisting towards him slightly, a mirror of his movement.]

Are you serious?

[withmeinparadise]

[ He gestures at his stomach, currently safely covered in the fabric of a wifebeater. ]

As a heart attack.

[evocation]

You want me to punch you in the stomach?

[withmeinparadise]

Worth a try, right?