ArchivedLogs:In Which A Loon Has Failed To Migrate And Vacation Plans Are Not Made

In Which A Loon Has Failed To Migrate And Vacation Plans Are Not Made
Dramatis Personae Kyinha, Taylor	2015-12-21 "{It's shitty, no lie.}"
Location <XS> Lake
Bright, bright, bright; the lake glitters wide and expansive here, stretching off into the distance. Sunlight, moonlight, starlight, it catches them all. Lapping at the rocky shore, its deep waters are frigid in winter and cool even in summer. A stone pier stretches out a ways into the water, wide and smooth, though often icy in winter. The water teems with life nevertheless, home to myriad species of fish that provide for ample fishing or just lazy watching on a slow summer day, for those who want to take a boat from the boathouse out to the center of the lake, or perhaps lounge on the pier and try their luck. It's a mild day, the winter sun shining down over the glittering lake. The surrounding woods are quiet except for the dry rustle of fallen leaves and bare branches when stirred by the intermittent breeze or frenzied squirrels caching acorns. Kyinha sits at the end of the pier, his feet dangling off into the water. He's wearing quick-dry khaki shorts and no shirt, his black, black skin drinking in the light. His glowing orange eyes focus on the faintly rippling surface of the water, and his thoughts drift between idle wondering at how long the loon he just saw dive can stay under, and a fierce longing for his home on the Xingu river, far, far away. There's no sound of footsteps to tell of anyone approaching, but all the same an answer comes back to Kyinha soon enough. Though Taylor's voice speaks in his head in quiet Japanese, the words come with their own mental translation, gist readily apparent even if the exact vocabulary is not. << {Longer than most people.} >> Kyinha looks down at the water between his feet. Nods. << {Which is, admittedly, not saying much.}" His thoughts come in his native Nheengatu, but he adds, in Spanish, << {It is a very marvelous animal. And very late migrating, I think.} >> << {Maybe,} >> Taylor's voice comes back dryly, << {it's heard about the quarantine.} >> There's a ripple in the water nearby the pier, a ropey black limb snaking up out of the lake to curl against the rocks. Though he knows the boy well, though he's rather freakish himself, and though he's /literally been having a conversation/ with him, Kyinha still starts when Taylor's limb breaks the surface of the water. "{Maybe,}" he speaks aloud now, in Spanish. But then, thinking again, << {I hope it finds its way out before the water starts freezing.} >> He stops watching for the water bird and turns more fully to Taylor. "{Did you have a good swim?}" One slithery-black limb is joined by another and then another and then another, slick and glistening jet-black as water runs down off his skin onto the rocks. Taylor's arms clench down; he pulls himself up, dragging up onto the rocks to clamber onto his knees on the edge of the pier. The plain black jammers he wears blend in fairly well with his skin. Other than that he's not dressed; it makes it easier to see the red and healing tears against his inky skin; scabbing at his knuckles, ripped against many of his ropey arms, clawed against his boney ones. The side of his face, at least, is done healing, twisted into a mass of knotty scar tissue. "{I can hold my breath way longer than the loons.}" He glances over Kyinha, greyish eyes flicking up and down over the teacher. "{You coming or going?}" Kyinha watches Taylor pull himself from the water. A faint shudder runs through him as though he were cold, although he is not. "{How long?}" He's genuinely curious. He could once hold his breath for over three minutes, but suspects that the skill has faded with lack of practice. "{I was going to take a canoe out to do my afternoon fishing, but I got distracted watching the loon.}" Taylor's head bows at Kyinha's shudder, a small twitch at the side of his lips. He settles onto the pier alongside the teacher, some of his limbs pooling behind him on the stone and some dangling back down into the water. "{Gets uncomfortable around half an hour. The loons tend to bob back up before two minutes is done.}" One of his smaller arms flicks over the water, where, farther out, the bird has surfaced once more. "{Do you do this every afternoon?}" Kyinha's eyes widen, and he nods. "{Half an hour. Impressive.}" He turns to study Taylor, but looks out over the water when the loon pops back up onto the surface of the water. "{When I have time, yes. It's soothing.}" << {It's a little like home.} >> Taylor shrugs, toes skimming down against the water. "It's useful." His eyes fix outward too. Watching the bird. "{You could probably go home. If you wanted. For --}" He frowns. "{Well, I don't know if you celebrate Christmas, but we have vacation for a while whether you do or not. I know there's quarantine bullshit but any number of people could skip you out of /that/.}" "{I don't celebrate Christmas. Well...}" Kyinha grins, the glow behind his teeth fiery bright. "{I celebrate it in the company of people who do, but it is not a particularly important tradition in my village.}" << {But I'm not wanted there anyhow,} >> is the quiet afterthought, obviously not meant for Taylor, though he wordlessly accepts that it was almost assuredly overheard. "{Do you? Celebrate any winter solstice-related holidays?}" "{Are there people here you want to...}" Taylor trails off, this question unfinished. He shrugs again, leaning back to press his hands against the rocks. "{I don't know. I mean, this year, I don't know. I don't really have anyone around here to celebrate them /with/.}" "{There are many here who can't be with their families for the holidays.}" Kyinha folds one of his legs up onto the pier and rests his cheek on his knee, looking sidelong at Taylor. "{We can make our own celebration. I know it's not the same, but...it's something.}" "{But fewer who can't be with them because they're fucking grounded.}" Taylor's words come through clenched teeth, the tips of a couple of his arms flicking hard against the surface of the lake. "{Weirdly not feeling celebratory. I bet Jax will make some kickass cupcakes, though.}" Kyinha's expression -- might be a frown, it's always a little hard to see. His anger flashes bright and brief, a fiery halo visible around him for just a moment. << {Probably pointless to fighting the administration over this, but...} >> All he says aloud is, "{I'm sure he will. It's a compulsion for him.}" Taylor's eyes slant sideways towards Kyinha. His shoulders curl in tighter, and he pulls his arms up out of the water, pushing up against the stone to levy himself to his feet. "{Been a lot of stress to go around,}" he answers with a shrug. "{He bakes, other people gorge. It's like some kind of chocolate symbiosis. Helpful all around.}" Kyinha nods slowly. "{It's shitty, no lie,}" he's thinking of the outbreak itself, the dead -- walking and otherwise -- and Taylor's grounding. Though now he closes his eyes, and some of his gloomier thoughts are at least temporarily brushed aside in favor of fantasizing about chocolate. "{I'm sorry,}" he adds, quietly, turning back to the water and the distant, laughing loon. "{There'll be plenty of chocolate to carry us through.}" One of Taylor's arms lifts in a lazy kind of wave. The rest of them are sliding up, sliding in around his torso to slither-coil around him rather than drag on the ground. He wraps his arms against his chest, damp bare feet slapping against stone as he heads back down the pier.