7870/A Dip in the Water

A Dip in the Water
Date of Scene:	18 September 2021
Location:	Robinson Park - Miagani Island
Synopsis:	Killian's a-swimming while the stoat is on the shore, while Nettie Crowe considers she may be lonely nevermore. Of all the nights in Gotham that in Robinson Park be found -- this one would be less squeaky if Kil're on solid ground!
Cast of Characters:	Nettie Crowe, Killian Quinn

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Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Darkness settles around Gotham like a familiar blanket, and the city, at its heart, begins to breathe in earnest, taking on its second life as the creatures that feed in the darkness errupt from their hidey-holes and safehouses.

    Nettie Crowe had determined that a talk with Killian was in order, and in trying to track down the lad and Slink, she had tried to divine from the connection Slink made with that bite on her neck, and had gotten 'roughly here' and 'water' from the cards and crystals.

    So she had climbed up, gotten herself to Robin Park via the West Flower Street Urbarail, and had gone on a big of a walk, every once in a while giving a whistle of Siuil a Run as she does.

Killian Quinn has posed:
    It's probably that vile little stoat that gets noticed first. Slink isn't fond of the water, not one bit. Apparently he's not fond of Killian being *in* the water either. The little critter is bouncing up and down and running back and forth near the water's edge at the Reservoir, right near that willow tree that's back up against the water.

    "But *Killi*, what if there's a sea monster in there? Huh? What if there's a fookin' sea monster? Or a fish big as your head and it sees things danglin' and thinks it's a fookin' worm? Huh. Please come out. KILLI! Where'd you go! Killian!"

    Killian himself is no where to be seen unless a person really strains their eyes in the darkness. He's WAY out there.

    Under the Willow, that old boombox plays 'Shine On' by the Porters.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nettie passes close to the willow, and then draws to the side of the lake, wearing her cloak about her shoulders made of sweatshirt material against the coolness of the later evening, her boots kissing the very edge of the water.

    "I think he'll be fine, wee son. I don't think there's a sea monster in this wee little pond. Not deep enough, I wager." she comments gently to the little critter, offering a hand down to the little creature. "Honestly, I'd be more scared of beer cans slicin' through anything that might dangle. Gotham's not the kindest to our Mother Earth."

Killian Quinn has posed:
    "But it's *dark*," Slink points out, as if that makes some big difference in regards to the existence of sea monsters in the lake. "Can you see him? I can't see him? Fookin' lake." The little guy's just too anxious to be bothered with proffered hands. He bounds and bounces and sidehops all about Nettie's feet, little hackles raised, chuffing and chortling.

    Gotham may not be the kindest to Mother Earth, but it matters not when the matter is the presence of flora. Plants, trees, roots, they're found just about everywhere, even beneath the concrete sidewalks of the city.

    *SPLASH*. It comes out of *nowhere*, that splash of water brought about by plant life pulled up from the bottom of the lake giving the water near Nettie a good 'slap' before retreating again.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Yes, little one, it is dark in this moment." Nettie states, and she taps against her bag, ever-present, and she takes out a bit of crystal. A dab of oil against the crystal, and she gives a quiet plea, and the crystal gives a glow, a bit like a lantern, and she holds it up and aloft. "See, Slink, nothing to worry yourself about. I reckon he's doing a bit of swimm--" she pauses.

    "Did you mention 'dangly bits'?"

Killian Quinn has posed:
    Why yes, yes those were mentioned. It's not but a moment later that Killian is close enough to be seen easily by the little glow from that crystal. It's not but a moment after that? Well, he's close enough to the short to stand. Waist down, he's still submerged, for the moment.

    "Nettie Rose!" he calls out cheerfully.

    "Aye, dangly bits. He left his clothes behind. I don't know why he does that. I mean, I'd never leave my fur behind if I went in there," Slink laments. "What's to protect the sensitive bits without *fur*..." Or clothing.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Human dangly bits are also a fair bit different than stoats's, I'd think." Nettie replies quietly to Slink. And she looks up, holding her thumb to the bottom of the crystal and her fingers curling around the top slightly to hopefully not show that she's blushing just a little.

    "Oi there Killian!" she calls out, "It appears you've forgotton your trunks, lad! What if Gotham's finest were to breeze by and find such a man as you swimming in the lake?"

Killian Quinn has posed:
    "Hit the willow, call the fog," Killian replies before he's striding right on up out of that water, not a hint of modesty to the lad, not one bit. As he gets nearer, it's clear that he did have Nettie's name added to that rose tattoo. It's in flowing script made of vines and thorns to match the whole rose motif.

    There, under the willow, are his clothes and a towel. It's the latter he snatches up first once he reaches it. But damned if the bastard doesn't use it to dry his hair a bit first before wrapping it about his waist.

    Little Slink just collapses on the ground, all flat and pancaked and lets out an audible sigh of relief along with, "No sea monster this time."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nettie has seen plenty of naked men. She's even seen naked men with names tattooed onto them, she's never seen her name tattooed on anyone, though. She felt a little twist of her heart, but she shakes her head, averting her eyes politely the same as if Killian didn't have the dangly bits.

    "I see you've updated your ink. It looks very well-done. Perhaps I should look into updating mine."

Killian Quinn has posed:
    "Always knew I would when I had a name to put to it," Killian replies. He dries off with that towel as if he's standing in his own private bathroom and maybe he might be? Is the air around the tree just a little heavy with dewy fog? Is that something or nothing but the result of being so close to the water as the day's temperature drops?

    He pulls on his shorts commando and asks, "Anything weird happened yet, since the night in the castle?"

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Other than your auntie and uncle in the bar being twats, hard to say." Nettie states, and then her expression flattens. "My life's been weird since I reopened my shop. Have half a mind to close it again an' retire to Lhasa, if it wasn't for the Chinese." she mutters, and she gives a shrug as he tugs his shorts on, and then leans over to poke the stoat in his wee little white belly. "You doing all right then, little man?" she questions.

Killian Quinn has posed:
    There really is nothing cuter in the world than a giggling stoat is there? It can be said for both their natural chuffing sound and, well, the totally unnatural giggle that comes from Slink. Giggles will turn to almost gales of childish laughter should Nettie keep it up. Little guy's ticklish!

    "Aye, 'bout that. Sorry you had to see all it. Don't suppose they would have actually brought me harm, never have before. They just like to toss weight around and put on airs." The words don't quite ring true. Not an outright lie, because he can't do that, but there's a dancing about the meat of it going on for sure.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nettie continues to tickle the stoat, it makes for a nice distraction from the weight on her shoulders otherwise.

    "It's all right. I just... I'm protective I s'pose. Put on my own bit of show that I'm sure they had a laugh at on their way home." she states, her lips curling into a very small, sad smile. "... never cared for the good neighbors, to be honest, 'coz rarely were they powerfule nough to be anything more than nuseances, or they broke the hearts of many friends of mine."

Killian Quinn has posed:
    "They want something out of me that I cant give," Killian offers in way of a little more explanation. "Always do. Usually I make do, not sure this time though. Harness the fuckin' moon, right?" He lets out a little laugh that actually does sound humorous. Nothing but a game.

    He settles down to lean against the trunk of the Willow.

    Slink pees from all the tickling, just whizzes all over the place. "I leaked," he announces amid all that giggling.

    "My Da was a Druid. I was just a wee lad when he passed, taught me to talk to the animals before he died, nothin' more. I'm a regular Doctor Doolittle, but know nothin' of the rest of it." He plucks a hand rolled smoke from a little silver box that instantly makes the area stink like skunk when he lights it. That is some *dank* weed. "... mum was a dryad, is still I suppose. Don't remember her. She dropped me with my Da right after I was born and that was that."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Oi !! -- Slink! Cheeky rude lad!" Nettie states, and she goes to splash the stoat lightly and to wash her hand. Mustlid Urine! What a frightful stench!

    "Lad there is plenty of ways to get around commands like that. Harness the moon, rope yourself with a pretty lady named Diana, go have yourself a conversation with Artermis, who knows what fookin' sorts of bullshittery, take over a tidal energy factory. Those things are ridiculous and harness the moon's movements for the tides to generate electricity." she states, and she gives a sniff of the air, her nose giving an almost unapproving wrinkle.

    "Could be worse." she states, flicking her hand to dry it and sitting down near Killian. "I'm older than I look, thanks to a bit of necromancy gone awry an' quick thinking on my dad's part."

Killian Quinn has posed:
    "Wish it were that simple. I think I have to literally harness the power of the moon to access whatever it is they want," Killian explains. He doesn't seem overly put out by it all, just mildly *annoyed*. Not annoyed enough that he doesn't laugh right out loud at Slink's antics.

    "I guessed on the older than you look thing. Haven't changed since that day." The jukebox cues up something with one of those weird names by Cetic Women, Killian's foot bobs up and down with the music. That urge to get up and dance is pushed back however. Important conversations are happening or something of that nature. "Necromancy though, that's rough. Nasty business, but maybe not so much if it's kept someone so lovely as yourself here." Thing about those sorts of compliments from Killian? He *can't* lie.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Aye, naught that a fourteen-year-old has any business working." she states, and she looks to Killian.

    "It's not often I come across someone who's able to hold my hand without being warded six ways from Sunday. I thought I would have left you with enough nightmares to last a lifetime." she shrugs. Nettie is trying to sound noncomittal, it's working, somewhat.

    "Anyone who touches me gets visions of Death, but I s'pose, with you it's different."

Killian Quinn has posed:
    Killian tilts his head ever so slightly. His tongue pokes out just the littlest bit between his teeth and lips, his eyebrows do this impossible thing where the outsides arch down and the insides slip up, then the right one has the inside slipping down too. It's his thinking face.

    Slink, all sleepy and content now that sea monsters will not be eating Killian, slips into Nettie's lap.

    "Maybe it's because everything I'm made of is life, aye? Dryad, Druid... nature, it's all life." His nose wrinkles slightly, but not like disgust, just more added to the 'thinking face'. "I'm also not human, Nettie, wasn't born here. I was born on the other side of the fog, in Tir na Nog. If stories told be true, what I have inside isn't the same as if I were born here."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Pee on me again, rascal, and you'll be made into an ornament." Nettie threatens with absolutely no teeth or venom behind it as the stoat crawls into her lap. She covers him a bit with some of her cloak, and turns back to Killian.

    "Where as all I am is death and memories." she jokes, "Doomed to wander the Earth and watch all who love on me fade and perish, except for one lad that I managed to squeak to a tree 'fore his friends could call a doctor." she states, and then she smiles. "By all rights, we should hate one another, you know. My family bein' what they were, and you bein' what you are, should run away an' never look back... but I've always had a soft spot for the lost ones."

    Her fingers lightly scritch over the stoat's back quietly in contemplation.

Killian Quinn has posed:
    "Hate like that, it takes too much energy," Killian points out quietly. "It's just hate for the sake of it with no real reason. Life and death, they aren't at odds, aye? They're all part of the same big picture?"

    He reaches out and gently lays a hand over Nettie's before patting it lightly. "Besides, you aren't all death, Nettie Rose. You gave me my life, remember? I'm probably not the only one."

    Slink snuggles in all cuddly and cozy and murmurs, "Sometimes he's not so stupid as he looks."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Yeah, you live long enough, you become familiar with hatred. Has a tendency to take up any spare room in your heart when you don't feel like you can love again..." she states, and she feels the warmth of Killian's hand on her. She purses her lips a moment, and looks over to those dark eyes and the pout of his lips.

    "Aye, that I have. For better or for worse, you're my doin'."

Killian Quinn has posed:
    "Aye, I suppose I am." Killian pushes himself to his feet, but before he does so he leans over to press a kiss to Nettie's cheek, just at the corner of her lips. "Should be goin', have a double tomorrow."

    Slink rouses with a groan and scrambles to his little feet. "Always when I find a fookin' soft bed," he grouses.

    "Love's a curse and a boon, but a heart's never too full up for it. Heart's a bottomless thing, up to us to figure if they're bottomless despair or something else."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Her nose wrinkles, her eyes narrow a moment and those pale cheeks and ears suddenly take up glowing like Christmas lights! "Oi! Such cheek!" she protests at the kiss, and as Nettie stands, she hands Slink over to Killian as she gives a smile. "I must admit, he's a fair shake more pleasant than mine at the moment. Keep a steady eye on him, an' one on yeself, Killian." she replies, but Nettie doesn't comment on the bottomlessness of a heart for love or dispair. Tonight it hits close to home.

Killian Quinn has posed:
    "It's him what needs sittin' not me," Slink points out before crawling his way up to Killian's shoulder.

    The rest of his clothes are snatched up from beneath the willow before he says, "Come swimmin' with me tomorrow, don't think on it, just do it." With that, he blows a kiss from his fingertips and turns to head off. His steps are light, almost a skip and the grass pulls and tugs and dances about his ankles along the way, as if sharing his apparent joy over... just life.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nettie watches Killian leave... and she takes her breath, and goes "... old age has made you dumb, love." she states quietly, and she goes to grab up her backpack and make haste for the nearest urbarail station -- before she changes her mind and follows him home like a puppy.