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who: Undertaker and whoever wants to bump into him
what: Adjusting to a life this new isn't easy
when: Night of the 15th
where: Various places around the city, ending on a random bench
warnings: A slightly uncharacteristically grumpy Undertaker. Give him a break, he's exhausted.

The one thing he appreciates about this place, other than the awkward reprieve that it's given him from the events of his own life back home, is that at night, it quiets down like the rest of his home once did - perhaps still does, even without him. It becomes a little easier to bear during the witching hours, when he abandons his communal bunk to walk unfamiliar streets, explore strange alleys, look into the windows of stores and shops that might well have come out of a novel. Silence does it for him, or at least, it does it for him for a while.

He still isn't used to it all, though he has been trying to learn. The technology, the way of the people, the nature of their problems. Not for the first time, more so recently than when he had first arrived, he wonders if this city pulled him into its confines because it felt he wanted out of his then-current life, what would happen with him now that his sense of displacement had been amplified exponentially? Probably nothing. Likely nothing. It had done nothing for him so far, short of leave him to struggle to get up to speed with a place that hadn't just jumped forward in time, it had lunged. The small, black device in his pocket was proof enough of that. Only recently had he learned how to properly use it, or otherwise shut the damn thing up if he didn't want to hear it.

He might have to start cutting his nails again to help him with that, but he had thus far refused. This place had taken so much from him, he needed the little things now to keep him grounded. His research. His experiments. All of it, gone in an instant, replaced with uncertainty and caution and suspicion. What could he really pick up again here, if he wanted to continue in his curiosity? Where could he step, how far could he push the boundaries before people picked up on what he was doing and then decided to do something about it? Not that many opportunities had presented themselves thus far to allow him to continue. The dead here were few and far in between.

And his solitude. That had been the hardest loss, and the reason for which he now wandered the streets at night, willing himself to exhaustion so that lying on one of the benches scattered throughout the city in some secluded area or a nice rooftop wouldn't seem so bad a bed. The first night was rough, until he figured out where he could go to escape his roommates. He didn't know them, didn't know if he wanted to know them right off, but he was amicable enough around them. He couldn't yet afford to make enemies, but after spending decades alone, to suddenly be pushed into a place surrounded by what amounted to strangers, he found it near impossible to sleep while they were near. Thus, the nightly walk around the city had begun and turned into a habit.

Habit was good. Habit gave him routine, something to latch onto while work was slow, gave him something to do. But it was slow, and restlessness was a constant, only ending abruptly when exhaustion hit him in the face. It was starting to affect him, with as little as he now slept. It was starting to affect his mood, his energy levels, and it was slowly getting worse. The last thing he needed was to start acting out and bring attention to himself out in the open.

As he walked, still willing exhaustion to take him, listening to the steady sounds of his boots over the ground, he considered his options. He needed something else to do. He needed a new place to stay, somewhere where he could be alone again, where he could rest in peace, and he needed to find a way to earn a little more income to get it. He needed to sort out his place among these people; the research team was a good place to start but it wouldn't last forever. He needed, he needed, he needed so many things.

His head spun. He lifted a hand to pull down his hat and run the other back through his hair before replacing it. Weariness had taken hold and become too much at last, and he knew it had happened when his thoughts started to chase each other in circles and he lost track of where he had been. A small mercy, he had come back into the present to find a bench not far from where he was. He beelined to it, dropped down to the hard seat and stretched out on his back a little more carefully than he'd seated himself. The sky in what he had assumed was the east had already begun to fade to purple and he shifted his hat over his face to hide his eyes from the light - it would wake him again sooner than he wanted, if the sounds of the city waking around him didn't do that first. Just a few hours, he thought to himself. Just a few hours' rest and he could start over again. Maybe look for new work, maybe look for something else to do.

He had been through worse. Right now, it was just the sleep deprivation talking.

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Shiro had decided he needed a break from his apartment as well this evening. Because of his own issues, he often had trouble sleeping and he didn't really feel the need to bother his roommates about it. It was way too much information that he didn't necessarily want them all to know. He already didn't wear his jacket upstairs so they had seen his arm.

So, needing a break for the night, Shiro had grabbed his jacket to hide his arm and headed out. He had paused at the door to the floor where Keith lived then decided he wasn't going to bother him either. After continuing the remaining floors down, he stepped out into the darkness.

He didn't have anywhere he was planning on going; he just needed to go somewhere. In the quiet, his boots seemed to make far too much noise. One of those things where one wished they could turn it off, but you couldn't.

But as he wandered outside, he did spot someone further up the way sitting on a bench. He couldn't tell if he was asleep or if he was sitting outside this late at night.

He must have dozed off at some point, oblivious to the world around him for a blessed time, however short it was. It seemed that all he had done was to close his eyes, and when he opened them again, there were footsteps and his knee ached terribly, thanks in no small part to the position in which he had chosen to lie, one leg crossed over the other at an angle over the opposite arm of the bench.

The hat over his face hid the light outside, but he could feel it was still cool out. The sun hadn't yet poked its bright face over the horizon, or he was lying in a shadow. Either way, he wanted for sleep still. His eyes didn't want to open, still heavy with weariness, yet the footsteps approached. Annoying. He wouldn't be able to sleep again until they had passed him and were gone, but if one person had awakened and made their way here, others could as well. None of that thought did him any favors.

Begrudgingly, he shifted one foot up to free the other and slowly bent the knee, foot resting on the bench seat, to let it rest and relax again. If it was early enough, he might return to his apartment and see about another hour so for a nap.

Shiro wasn't necessarily the best person to judge time by, though the other didn't really have anyway of knowing that. He could be put at odd hours for any number of reasons, including his personal desire to check on things (which was significantly harder in city of this size) or because his thoughts wouldn't let him sleep or threatened him with dreams he'd rather not have if he did.

As he did get closer, he noticed that the other person shift on the bench, trying to get comfortable again. So he had been asleep. Seemed to be an odd place to sleep, but who was he to judge. If he was tired enough he could fall asleep anywhere. Whether he stayed asleep or not was another question.

"Everything alright?"

With the hat pulled down over his face, Shiro couldn't tell that this was someone he had spoken to previously. All he could really see was that he was sleeping on the bench.

Edited (icon change) 2017-07-20 02:54 (UTC)

Whoever it was, they were getting closer, so as much as sleep called to him then, self preservation called to him louder. The ache in his knee still held on, loosening its tendrils on him slowly but surely, and he let it as his attention turned more focus to the footsteps and the person who owned them, wondering at their intention.

What would it be? Their own curiosity? An opportunity they thought they might have found, for good or ill will? It was sure to happen one day or another, he groused mentally to himself. It was a city, larger and grander than any he had ever seen, and people were everywhere in it. He had taken risks in wearing himself out on his nightly walks and then allowing himself to pass out on the nearest public place. He should have gone to a rooftop again. It was less comfortable and the sun hit him sooner than he would have wanted to wake him up, but people didn't normally vault to the roofs as soon as they left their homes.

But it was the first time he had been disturbed. Maybe he should count himself lucky.

Giving in, he stretched one arm back and over the bench arm nearest to his head. "Aye," he groaned, shifting to stretch a little more with the movement now that it had induced a stretch fest all down his torso. "Just fine."

Well he would have been right; Shiro wouldn't have vaulted to the roof. At least not without a reason. Walking along the ground was so much easier when that option was there. Granted his communal floor was close to the roof of their building so he could have gone that way, but that would have been weird. That would have seemed very suspicious to him if he had seen someone else doing it.

At least Shiro was only disturbing him to make sure he was alright, since falling asleep on a park bench seemed really weird to him. He had no ill-will towards the other person. It wasn't his style to go after someone had encountered on the street.

"Good. Glad to hear it. Just wasn't expecting someone to be sleeping out here." Since didn't everyone at least have a bed on a communal floor. Even if they didn't have the money to go anywhere else, they did have that.

It certainly wasn't ideal, but he had little choice but to humor the man until he either decided to leave or until he woke up a little more. One or the other would happen. It was only a matter of time, and he was still fighting himself on sleep or consciousness.

He flipped his hat up briefly, showing a wide grin until it flopped clumsily back over his face. "Bed didn't feel right." It was a pitiful excuse, even for him, when he thought back on what he'd said a moment later. Was that really the best he could come up with? He really did need the rest. "I'm used to something a little harder."

Shiro was still standing enough of a distance away, not directly next to the bench. Honestly, if Undertaker had told him to leave him alone, Shiro would have left. He was used to rather blunt teenagers. Unfortunately the other didn't know that part.

When the other flipped up his hat even that much, he could see that smile. He recognize it as Undertaker, one of the people he had spoken to recently. He recognized it as a flimsy excuse. There were other options, including the bed in his own apartment. So it seemed there was another reason.

"A shame that you would need something harder."

Not motivated to leave in the least, he lie there, considering his options and whether or not he wanted to try to wake up and be all the worse for it or if he wanted to stay as he was and risk drifting off to sleep again, even with his acquaintance so near. Shiro didn't seem to be too intent on leaving or keeping quiet, and that left another option he didn't want to bother with at this time of the morning.

So he made a decision and left his hat where it was while he was at it. "That it is. I've heard it's easier the other way, but never got used to it."

A lie. The bench hurt, and he would have preferred his own bedding back home, but the one provided to him worked well enough. When he could comfortably sleep in it with roommates around.

Well if Undertaker really seemed that determined to sleep on the bench, that was his decision. The reasoning didn't sound right, but it could be possible that he actually did.

"Are you sure the bench is a better option?"

Also...

"If you want me to leave, tell me."

He shifted his leg again, testing his knee to see if it really wanted to move it around and attempt to walk home rather than just a quick step. It protested his checking on it and settled it back in place. Just a little while longer, then. "Honestly, it hurts."

Sure. He could be truthful about that, at least. He was too weary for any real shenanigans, whether or not he wanted to be. "I'd prefer sleep, if it's all the same to you." He considered elaborating on that, but held off on it for the time being. Maybe he could avoid that altogether.

Well, Shiro was right about that. He hadn't thought that bench would be very comfortable. He knew about being able to fall asleep almost anywhere, but he still preferred when he could sleep to do so in a bed. Compared to before, that was much better.

At the comment, that he would prefer sleep, Shiro nodded. "Then I won't keep from going back to sleep. Take care of yourself."

Both because he was outside sleeping on a bench and because sleeping outside in the open wasn't exactly the safest thing to do.

He shifted his legs around, frowned lightly at the ache in his knee, though it had dulled considerably, and left it as it was. If Shiro left now, he could try to sneak in another hour or so of rest. Not nearly enough, but it would have to do for now.

Maybe luck was with him. It seemed like the man was looking to do just that. "You as well." He hadn't started to step away just yet, but already Undertaker felt the muscles in him starting to go lax again, despite the ache here and there from his choice of bedding for the morning. An afterthought, he added, "Thanks for the concern."

Shiro understood better than most people having trouble sleeping and if he said he wanted to sleep there, that was enough for him to go on his way, maybe try and get to back to sleep himself before he had to be up.

"Thank you."

He nodded in response to the last, turning and heading off, letting the other attempt some more sleep.

That, it seemed, was that. For what he could, he felt the rest of him go lax as well as Shiro moved on, and he let his eyes slide closed again under the hat to try and get what rest he could. It wouldn't be much, as uncomfortable as things had become for him there on that bench, but he couldn't manage to make himself sit up and move on himself. In response, he flopped a sleeve and let it fall to rest back over his stomach and was still. Maybe he would sleep, maybe he would drowse. Maybe.

Where Undertaker had been up very late, Akihiko was actually up very early. He'd been jolting awake in a sweat more often than not, nightmares of his home gripping him. And, when he caught up with himself, the reality wasn't much better. The nervous energy of not wanting to have any kind of meltdown in a shared sleeping space got him out of bed, stepping into some sweats and grabbing his sneakers. Soon enough he was trotting down the stairs and out the building before his thoughts could keep up with him.

A little bleary eyed still, he tried to blink it away as his jog took him on a relatively aimless path as the city only barely began to stir, employees slipping into shops to start getting ready to open and dawn starting to trace color into the sky. His biggest plan was to maybe find a cafe to grab a smoothie at before thinking about starting his day.

He didn't immediately pause as he registered the person reclined on the bench, initially not even thinking about it. But.. from everything he'd been told in orientation, there wasn't so much an issue with housing- if you were in need you wouldn't be out of luck. So he slowed as he approached, gaze more critical as he tried to see if the person was injured or something. Wait, was that a tophat...

The recognition came as a bit of a surprise, and Akihiko hesitated about bothering the other. However, concern came before manners, so after hovering a few feet away he stepped a little closer, hand going out to pat the man's knee but not immediately touching him.

"Um. Are you alright?"

Already bothered once, and still unwilling to move, he had stayed on the bench in hopes of just a few more hours' sleep. He couldn't have had more than half an hour at best already, but it wasn't enough. Not hardly, but it was enough to leave him groggy and irritable with a little less restraint than he would have liked. Footsteps came again, approaching him, and it woke him a little easier this time, now that he had already been disturbed once. But he lie still and silent, hoping this one would go away.

When whoever it was didn't, he tried to reason with himself, seeing his mood for what it was and attempting a reign on it. Maybe it was unusual to see people resting out in the open like this. Did this world have no homeless or people milling about in the streets without direction? Surely he couldn't have been the first. So much had been built up, he couldn't fathom that in all that time, a plain street bench wouldn't have been used for a bed ever, at any point in their history.

Or that of whoever it was, for that matter.

He could more feel the other getting that much closer - to check on him or try to rob him? - than he could see it from under his hat, though at this distance it would have been clear to him. The half asleep, mischievous part of his mind briefly considered yanking his hat off his face and jerking up at the person to shout "Boo!" at them, fingers curled, grinning without mirth. But he hadn't the energy for it, nor any real motivation. The voice sounded vaguely familiar and, hidden from view, he frowned.

Frowned, then relaxed. His mind put a face to the voice, and soon after the name. "Aye."

At the confirmation, he did give one relieved pat to the man's knee, shifting his weight a half step away.

"You scared me, Undertaker-sa... Undertaker," He clears his throat with zero grace in the middle as he cuts off the honorifics that he still hasn't shaken since arriving in Riverview. Akihiko crosses an arm over himself a little self consciously as he looks out over the street, free hand picking at the bandage on his cheek. "I almost didn't stop before I recognized you,"

He turned an amused side eye to the other, not able to glean much of anything from the unmoving black brim of the man's hat staring back at him. "Didn't you say you were on floor, uhh, 2 of communal living with me? If this is your assigned bed I'd definitely complain to. Whoever's in charge of housing." While his tone is light, it's not hard to catch the carefully but poorly veiled concern as he tries to test the waters to see if Undertaker would prefer not to actually talk about whatever adventure had led him here. But god, if Akihiko wasn't an easily concerned person, and someone on the streets when they didn't necessarily have to be... it hit a little close to home.

The touch didn't bother him at all, though it did surprise him enough to get one eye open under the hat. The other opened a bit at having heard that he had scared the man. Really? By just lying here in the open? Huh. He tried for a short sound of amusement at that. "They say strange creatures roam this world. Must be I'm one of them."

And was that... Ah, yes. More conversation. Seemed he wasn't meant to sleep any longer out here. With a groan and a sigh all at once, he lifted a hand and rubbed under the rim of his hat at his face, trying to will himself to come out of his groggy haze just a little more. He had a walk ahead of him if Akihiko was going to go on and fuss over him like this. He could always just vanish away. That was an option left to him, to be sure, but a part of him that was a little more awake than the rest said that wouldn't be the best idea, not in front of someone he hardly knew.

"Floor 2, yes. One of the beds there, same as everyone else who lives in that place."

He hummed a short laugh of his own. "While I would not doubt that, don't worry; you're not the strangest I've seen by far." Akihiko paused at the groan, though, watching sidelong as Undertaker shifted before shifting his attention back to the edge of the sidewalk ahead of him.

"Not used to dorming with others, then?" It wasn't hard to pick up on the distaste in how Undertaker strung the sentence. Which he guessed he could understand- he was used to dorms, so while he'd never been in such a large communal space it didn't bother him too much. Judging entirely by looks, though, he could imagine that Undertaker most surely did not have to share space back home.

He paused, kicking out his foot so he could kick his heel on the ground, toe pointed skyward, before tilting his head towards the man. "..But, I didn't mean to bother you, if you'd prefer to continue napping. The cafe next door is about to open though, just a warning." And with it, one could assume the foot traffic would only increase as commuters started to get ready for their days.

It was getting lighter out, he reasoned with himself. Of course it was. He'd seen the sky turning purple when he found the bench to settle in and try for sleep, but he hadn't been in the best mind to make the best decision. Why he had expected that he might have a little time to get in a few hours of rest where he'd put himself was really the question of the ages. It wasn't like him to make bad decisions like this, but he still had a chance to correct it.

Starting with sitting himself up. His body immediately protested, letting him know in no uncertain terms just where it had not appreciated him lying down for any hope of sleep. He bit back another groan, taking the hint about the coffee shop for what it was, and continued rubbing his face, accepting that he had to move. With luck, his roommates would be gone and he could plant himself in his bed now. "Not at all. You don't catch many these days comfortable enough with their own mortality to sleep in a room full of coffins."

"Ah- a room full of coffins?" His tone was just a little sharp for the conversation, startled before he connected the man's name to the reference. Of course it was not a description of the dorm. It was hard not to laugh, though- wouldn't Undertaker be amused to see the Dark Hour, where that would apply to his current boarding situation. He cleared his throat instead, knuckles covering a smile.

"Most people do get pretty queasy about death. You stayed at your funeral parlor?"

His hat tipped and he reached up to pull it down before it toppled to the ground. He then looked up at the other's comment, briefly, but in it his bangs had parted enough to show one bright green eye through a part. It was quickly noticed, and he ducked his head again, shaking his bangs back into place, and did his best to ignore it. Really, he was too tired for conversation, but he needed the distraction. "That I did. It's not so unusual to find people living with their work, not where I'm from."

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