[Kit and Vinyl's AWESOME ADVENTURES]

[bloodand]

There is a path behind that old church, the one with thick juniper bushes around the fence. The path leads up to a gap in the juniper, but there's nothing at the end of it but a wall, most of the time.

Except when the moon is high enough that you can see it in the gap between the bushes (like you could right now, if there weren't so many buildings in the way) and the juniper has berries poking out of its needles. Those times, the wall is still there, but it leads somewhere, if you need it to. If you need to get into that place... Or, more rarely, if you need to get out.

I have to get home - and it's a familiar need, so familiar, the guide to a name and a place and an experience, another time running though a swampy maze. And he isn't sure how he knows what to do - I lost a part of myself then and so he does it again, cut out the music and the parts that are important and takes them with him. Somewhere in the haze of revelation he knows there are others, knows he should tell them, but that's precious time and risk away from his escape.

He's cut out people before, too, sliced them down and out of himself so that he doesn't waste time regretting it. He kills the sound, puts the music on pause, and bolts, bundled in a giant scarf that catches on thorns and leaves silk threads as large as yarn in his wake.

And he remembers a city with a church, a church he grew up in, hated, would like nothing more than to see again, because at least it's something like home. Every step gives him a little more, makes the picture a little clearer, but it's not clear enough to bring him home, to the right home. Just clear enough to get him out, to some kind of freedom.

Silence falls out of the hedge with a sound like so many cartoon dropped instruments and muffled, musical cursing. One dangling end of the scarf stays hooked in the juniper from where it trailed behind him as he ran; the rest is wrapped loosely around him, and he's glad, when he feels the winter chill of this city, that it's at least something to wrap himself in. But it's a good kind of cold, at least; it feels real, like - sunset on a summer afternoon, and her hand in mine - like not even the memories feel real.

He doesn't laugh, but the music might as well be doing that for him.

Comments

[bloodand]

The music holds a note, like a held breath, as he looks at the world map, and it's... "I'm sure. That's not... I don't know if I could draw the world I know, but that's not it."

He's holding it together pretty well, considering that the music promptly goes into screechy-violin notes that hurt his ears, nevermind what they might be doing to Kit at this point. There's an actual violin string snap in the sound, and then it all falls silent.

He made it out. That should be enough, right?

[technobek]

So far it hasn't seemed polite to mention the ambient music thing - if Kit went around commenting on every strange aspect of everyone's mien, it'd never get anything else done - but the screeching violins are a bit much, and Kit yelps and claps its hands to its ears, heedless of the phone still gripped in one hand.

This is - well, honestly, Kit's not sure it this is more than it can handle period, because it will be the first to admit that it has a marked tendency to adopt people and in the course of said adopting it's willing to put up with quite a bit, but this is definitely more than it can handle while standing around in an unfamiliar alleyway.

It realizes, almost belatedly, that the sound has stopped, and gingerly lowers its hands. "Look, do you maybe want to head somewhere that isn't a public alleyway right next to an active hedge access?" it suggests, a little hesitantly.

[bloodand]

Does he want to get out of the cold night which he is currently standing in barefoot wrapped in a giant scarf? Yes, yes he does. His nod in response is firm, but still probably a little out of it - the music hasn't started back up again, at least.

He'll follow Kit out of the alleyway, eyes constantly shifting around and sometimes adjusting the scarf so it doesn't fall and trip him or reveal anything Not For Public View, but even the shifting of cloth and his footsteps are silent.

[technobek]

"Right. Ok. My place isn't too far away. It's a bit of a walk but it's not too bad. Maybe like half a mile?" Kit says, babbling a little; the sudden absence of sound, along with the nerves of not really being sure what to do, seems to create a vacuum it can't help but try to fill with words. "I'm, uh, Kit, by the way. Kit September."

[bloodand]

A nod - he's not too sure of his own name, yet; it's his again, if he can recall it, but still blurred out in his head. He might have had more than one; that would explain why he's not quite sure what he should expect to hear in his memories.

The music starts again after a couple blocks, at least, contemplative and slow; it brings back the sounds of the rest of him, too, footsteps and shifting fabric and his voice absently humming along with the melody.

[technobek]

The walk is fairly uneventful; they have to cross a couple of busy streets, but otherwise Kit avoids populated areas as much as possible - partly because it seems wisest with Mr. Doens't Know When To Stop Toga-ing in tow, partly because Kit just plain tends to stick to more sparsely populated streets when given a choice.

The apartment building is a little shabby, with worn, buckling linoleum in the narrow hallways; Kit opts to herd them up the stairs rather than wait for the ancient and extremely slow elevator. The apartment itself is smallish and untidy, but the deadbolt is sturdy, and the place is warm. Kit holds the door open and waves the other changeling in. "This is it. Make yourself at home, I guess."

[bloodand]

The redhead is at least distracted from his problems by the amount of things there are in the city. He can't help the sigh of relief at arriving at Kit's (warm, probably safe) apartment, though; if nothing else, walking barefoot on the streets of New York is never really a good idea.

Kit's apartment is nearly as equally full of things, but for now, he'll start with sinking into the couch. The melody's a bit more stable around him now, and quieter. "Do you have any tea?"

Did they even drink tea here, in whatever place he'd managed to get himself?

[technobek]

"Yeah," Kit replies, dropping its bag on the kitchen table. The living/dining room isn't as messy as it could be - no thanks to Kit's own housekeeping standards, and entirely thanks to the fact that the mess hasn't yet drifted into the space left by having a large volume of miscellaneous power cords organized by one of Kit's friends - so although Kit does feel the slightest pang of embarrassment over the state of the room, at least there is plenty of open space on the couch for the musically-inclined changeling to sit on.

Kit tops off the kettle and goes to poke around in the cupboard. "I mean, I don't have anything fancy, but it's ok quality. You like green or black? Or I think I have some chamomile somewhere..."

--MIDNIGHT-- 3AM TAGATHON

[bloodand]

The pile of cords gets mostly a curious inspection while Kit goes to root around in the kitchen - though the concept of cords is familiar, this is a changeling who has never seen a plastic before in his life, so really just about everything plastic in the apartment is getting a bit of an inspection. Or at least, what he can reach from the couch.

"Black," he answers almost immediately, voice and melody with something like relief, "And sweet." That second is a bit embarrassing, though he can't for the life of him figure out the root of it.

Oh well. It will come - it feels like it will come, at least, a crack in the block in his head. He tilts his head back, closes his eyes. Names. Names would be the most helpful thing right now. He plays back the memories he has, the sound around him shifting - not music, but the splatter of heavy rain.

LUKE! A voice familiar; a name screamed at the boy who shared his face, who shared his name, who looked ready to lose his stomach once their blades separated. It's a name that was his, but now...

The rain fades back to music, quiet and conflicted.

I had to go look up what the current Red Rose figurine assortment was for this

[technobek]

"Yeah, sure," Kit replies, pulling the box of unwrapped teabags from the shelf - Red Rose isn't the best tea money can buy, but Kit thinks it's palatable and the box came with the little porcelain seagull that's currently balanced on top of Kit's microwave. Two mugs, a tea bag in each, and the water doesn't take long to boil. It's still watching the other changeling out of the corner of its eye as it works, although with Kit's solid black eyes this might be a little difficult to determine for certain. Not mistrustful, exactly; maybe not even more than passingly concerned for the boy, but certainly curious. It's never heard of anyone who flat out didn't recognize earth, and while it isn't sure what the implications of that are, if this guy isn't just confused, there's certainly something interesting going on.

Whether or not he's just confused, though, the guy does seem more than a little disoriented. Kit fishes the tea bags out and dumps a couple of spoonfuls of sugar into one of the cups, and comes over to pass the sweetened mug to the guy on the couch.

"How you holding up?" it asks, a little hesitantly. It's not really certain what it's supposed to do now, honestly.

I had no idea there was even tea that came with figures

[bloodand]

He's not really paying enough attention to notice if Kit's watching him or not; he doesn't even open his eyes until Kit arrives with a hot mug of tea. "Thanks," he says a little awkwardly, taking it and blowing on it until it cools a bit more. The sugar isn't quite the same as the taste he's expecting, and the tea's a little different blend, but it does the job.

He has to think about the answer, and takes a sip to cover the pause. It doesn't help him make any progress. "About as well as I can be," he finally says.

He wants to go home. It's a feeling part of him recognizes as new, because he didn't want to go home before, he wanted to be anywhere but there, but... There's a sense of being finished that he can't explain, the music winding down as he just sips quietly from his mug for a few minutes. The urge to go charging back into the Hedge until he gets to the right place is strong, but...

What's his hurry? He needs time to (recover and resupply) figure out what's going on in his own head before he tries to go anywhere else.

"I can adapt," he says into the teacup, not sure that he wants to.

[technobek]

Kit nods. "There's folks around who can help you settle in," it points out. "Other changelings. The support network's not quite as conprehensive as it was before Owain- as it was when I got out of the hedge, but we tend to stick together pretty well."

It comes over and sits at the other end of the couch, or rather, it kicks off its shoes and climbs up to sit on the arm of the couch with its feet on the cushions. "I'll be honest, I haven't ever heard of anyone coming out of the hedge into the wrong world, but I've only been home a few months myself and lemme tell you, the Autumn Court is totally chock full of nerds. I can ask around and see if anyone knows anything?" It laughs a little, a self-deprecating kind of chuckle. "I'm kind of intrigued, myself, really."

[bloodand]

He nods; really, he's grateful for the offer, but he's not exactly sure how to articulate the gratitude. It's probably something he hasn't had to do much.

"It wouldn't be the strangest thing about that place," he says, then represses a shiver and sticks his face back into the mug, tilting it a little to damn near chug a bit of the still-near-scalding tea. It's somehow satisfying. "Even if I'm the only one, knowing anything would be helpful about now."

That's the closest he's going to come to admitting how ignorant he is, though Kit's probably already caught on, given the way he boggled at things like smartphones, streetlights, and plastic, not to mention the fact that he's still wrapped in a giant ridiculous scarf instead of clothes.