McDonell Benedict "Kazuhira (和平)" Miller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
warandpeace) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2017-04-16 08:52 am
warandpeace) wrote in thisavrou_log2017-04-16 08:52 am
(no subject)
Who: Kazuhira Miller | Various
When: April
Where: Wherever labeled
What: General OTA starters for this month
Warnings: Will warn in the title portion of tags.
pax hamburgana.
[Miller comes into his diner almost every day. He's lucky to have workers, really, but he'd still come in alone and work his little heart out if he had to. He would sweep the floors, he would bus tables, he would cook food and do dishes, whatever is necessary to keep things running. The luck of "space age" technology (or rather, very average tech here) is that much of that can be automated as necessary. But the "human element" or the near equivalent when there's such a mix of people requires a face at a bar and at diner booths or a body by the heat of a stove, as far as he's concerned.]
[Today isn't a cooking day, it's a serving day, and he's up front finishing up a wipe down of the bar after a daily shift change rush. He guesses it's Region One's equivalent of the noon lunch around here. A bunch of people get a break at approximately the same time and they come in and get food and either they love it or hate it and he's the one that gets to hear about it]
[Sometimes during the lull and most of the busy work is done, Kaz'll spend those spare moments to practice playing his guitar at a booth, soft acoustic sounds from expert fingers filling the restaurant. Good enough that at one point he could have been a professional so long as he didn't sing as well. Now being original is a trial, songs being difficult to generate on his own. Instead he plucks through ones he made years ago or learned in Costa Rica.]
[Either way, he'll find his way to anyone that comes in to eat.]
EN-Line.
[The worst part of taking up a new project is finding all the paperwork he needs to fill out.]
[One is a broadcasting office. One for him to ask about taxation and licensing because he has no idea how that works here. But it means a lot of walking and a lot of being told to go to another place and a lot more walking. Not long enough to take public transportation, but enough that the runaround gets exasperating (and he's a man that enjoys this sort of thing normally).]
[By the time he gets on the EN-Line to make his way home he's in a seat attempting with all his might to not nod off. A wearying battle that he loses, eventually doing so. That blond head tipping forward some, eyes closed behind his aviators, Kaz starts muttering a little to himself.]
Do you know where Miller is?
[He wakes up with a start from the sound of his own voice and shakes his head. Well, that's fun. He'll just try to find someone to talk and keep himself awake so he doesn't end up falling asleep and riding this thing in a circle.]
band night at a bar.
[It's been a hell of week, and Kaz has not slowed down except to sleep and that sleep is the sort of "decent" sleep that's like a marathon in itself. Check time, confirm time setting, lay down face first without undressing, sprint snooze. This is the first time he's taken some time off just to relax, going to a bar to enjoy himself and listen to some music.]
[But perhaps he should not have.]
[Once the live band hours are over, he's piss drunk. Somewhere along the line Miller forgot he's no longer twenty-eight and the last time he got drunk without strange mantid interference was back on the last birthday he could remember, at a party that Big Boss had thrown for him when they were both aboard the Moira.]
[And that has him ranting at some poor unfortunate soul near him.]
Did you know John put me in a slingshot? He tricked me. [Kaz slurs with spite, making himself mad all over again.] I almost died for a man that put me in a slingshot. You know how far I went? I lost my clipboard.
And his box was too tiny. I had to make him make it bigger. He barely listened to me over his stupid small box, I don't know why I thought he'd listen to me over nukes.
[This all makes sense to him. Even that hiccup that follows that odd assortment of words that are supposed to be a true story. Accurate punctuation.]
When: April
Where: Wherever labeled
What: General OTA starters for this month
Warnings: Will warn in the title portion of tags.
pax hamburgana.
[Miller comes into his diner almost every day. He's lucky to have workers, really, but he'd still come in alone and work his little heart out if he had to. He would sweep the floors, he would bus tables, he would cook food and do dishes, whatever is necessary to keep things running. The luck of "space age" technology (or rather, very average tech here) is that much of that can be automated as necessary. But the "human element" or the near equivalent when there's such a mix of people requires a face at a bar and at diner booths or a body by the heat of a stove, as far as he's concerned.]
[Today isn't a cooking day, it's a serving day, and he's up front finishing up a wipe down of the bar after a daily shift change rush. He guesses it's Region One's equivalent of the noon lunch around here. A bunch of people get a break at approximately the same time and they come in and get food and either they love it or hate it and he's the one that gets to hear about it]
[Sometimes during the lull and most of the busy work is done, Kaz'll spend those spare moments to practice playing his guitar at a booth, soft acoustic sounds from expert fingers filling the restaurant. Good enough that at one point he could have been a professional so long as he didn't sing as well. Now being original is a trial, songs being difficult to generate on his own. Instead he plucks through ones he made years ago or learned in Costa Rica.]
[Either way, he'll find his way to anyone that comes in to eat.]
EN-Line.
[The worst part of taking up a new project is finding all the paperwork he needs to fill out.]
[One is a broadcasting office. One for him to ask about taxation and licensing because he has no idea how that works here. But it means a lot of walking and a lot of being told to go to another place and a lot more walking. Not long enough to take public transportation, but enough that the runaround gets exasperating (and he's a man that enjoys this sort of thing normally).]
[By the time he gets on the EN-Line to make his way home he's in a seat attempting with all his might to not nod off. A wearying battle that he loses, eventually doing so. That blond head tipping forward some, eyes closed behind his aviators, Kaz starts muttering a little to himself.]
Do you know where Miller is?
[He wakes up with a start from the sound of his own voice and shakes his head. Well, that's fun. He'll just try to find someone to talk and keep himself awake so he doesn't end up falling asleep and riding this thing in a circle.]
band night at a bar.
[It's been a hell of week, and Kaz has not slowed down except to sleep and that sleep is the sort of "decent" sleep that's like a marathon in itself. Check time, confirm time setting, lay down face first without undressing, sprint snooze. This is the first time he's taken some time off just to relax, going to a bar to enjoy himself and listen to some music.]
[But perhaps he should not have.]
[Once the live band hours are over, he's piss drunk. Somewhere along the line Miller forgot he's no longer twenty-eight and the last time he got drunk without strange mantid interference was back on the last birthday he could remember, at a party that Big Boss had thrown for him when they were both aboard the Moira.]
[And that has him ranting at some poor unfortunate soul near him.]
Did you know John put me in a slingshot? He tricked me. [Kaz slurs with spite, making himself mad all over again.] I almost died for a man that put me in a slingshot. You know how far I went? I lost my clipboard.
And his box was too tiny. I had to make him make it bigger. He barely listened to me over his stupid small box, I don't know why I thought he'd listen to me over nukes.
[This all makes sense to him. Even that hiccup that follows that odd assortment of words that are supposed to be a true story. Accurate punctuation.]
no subject
It's so damn good to have his magic back. Yes, he definitely thinks of it as his, and not power lent to him by someone, someone who could and very well might take it away at any time.
Nyx gets his beer again and sits back down, that smug smile directed towards his boss.]
Comes in handy, I'll tell you that.
no subject
But just being able to make it...
[There's a sense of wonder to his tone. That people can just decide to make their own defense by will.]
[The drunk and the pretty environment help.]
no subject
Agh! My mom'd be so mad at me. I'm a terrible host. Let me get your coat and hat and gloves and shoes.
[Even as he's saying this he's pushing himself up from his comfy spot on the couch and moving, fully intent on getting a few of those dozen layers off of the man. However, first, he walks to the front door of his apartment and dims the lights.]
And your glasses too, if you want.
no subject
[And then in the most unsexy way imaginable, he squirms out of his coat like a caterpillar, puts his leather gloves in his beret, and holds out a pile of fabric.]
[All of this done while juggling a beer. An old talent he's not had to make a use of in some time.]
Did you live in a place like this in... Insomnia was it?
no subject
He smiles at the question and shakes his head while working on the boots.]
No. I was saving up for my future, I had a tiny place I rented. It was in an immigrant neighborhood where other Galahdians lived, so I was around other immigrants.
I never would have got something like this for myself before. But here? Well...
[Nyx finishes tugging both boots off and he tosses them aside, pulling one leg up underneath him to sit on as he takes a gulp of beer.]
This is sort of my after-life, so I'm splurging on myself. I figure, why not? I never got that future I was saving up for.
no subject
[He repeats as a question, and a realization. An acknowledgement that Nyx is in the same situation as Liquid.]
Ah.
[The thought is sobering even as he takes another drink of beer. Not so much to become more inebriated, to wash down the thought.]
Most of the people that show up in that condition... they didn't have an easy-going end. Sorry to hear that. But yeah, I'd splurge too.
Was it a good neighborhood at least?
[And how long did it take this man to put on his shoes in the morning?]
no subject
[He doesn't make the conversation any drearier by mentioning most of them are dead now. Kaz knows about war, he knows how it goes. Nyx manages a little smile though it doesn't reflect in his eyes]
I miss my King too. Is that strange? I always felt like, that I owed him, I was happy to serve in the Glaive. And I would have fought a hundred more wars if it meant Galahd was safe.
But he was a good man too. I didn't really get that until the very end.
[Nyx sighs and takes the last gulp from his beer and sets the empty bottle aside.]
He was good-looking for an old man, too. [This time when he laughs and smiles it's heartfelt.]
I sure did almost type kink instead of king.
[He hardly considers himself "old" at forty, though apparently everyone around thirty and younger does.]
I've got a pretty good King. [He loosens his tie with only partially opaque fingers. Though he doesn't add "good-looking", Nyx has seen Ahab. He speaks for himself.]
What's your type usually?
*u*
Nyx gets a lot of offers, but he rarely takes anyone up on it. He can be flirtatious if he wants to be again he rarely chooses to be. As a soldier, he thinks it's unfair to get attached or give anyone the chance to attach emotionally to him. He's good, and he knows it, but no one is good enough to outrun bad luck on the battlefield when their time is up.
He gives a thoughtful hum, not letting such dour thoughts get him down. Nyx looks amused as he considers it.]
Someone who's kind, and smart. Preferably funny.
[Nyx knows this is probably not interesting as it's all personality. He tries to think of any certain type of physical traits he goes for and really he can't think of too much.]
I don't know. On guys I like long legs. Is that weird? For girls, I'd say a nice ass.
[He shrugs and laughs at himself for being so noncommittal. He nods towards his boss.]
You?
no subject
[He's glad they can't see him now.]
[He takes another drink of his beer.]
Men? I liked... [He closes his eyes, trying to remember the specifics and continuing to loosely stay aimed at that flowing ceiling.] ...I liked them unstoppable. Unyielding. I liked them blunt and forward. Physically, being strong enough to throw me around a little I didn't complain about.
I'm a little more sensitive now. [Those eyes open back up.] Probably wouldn't take to that as well.
no subject
His expression remains there too, as he hears about his grumpy old boss getting well used by some tough muscular guy.
Nyx has a definite image in his mind and it's enough to get him feeling a little hot under the collar. The flush in his cheeks has nothing to do with the alcohol.]
Huh. So you really did get on tables and take your pants off? I never would have guessed it.
No more wild nights for you?
no subject
[Kaz rubs the bridge of his nose, budging up his glasses as he remembers.]
Luckily I don't anymore.
And the guy I liked most back then was the one who beat the hell out of me to make me stop sleeping around. Shoulda seen him. He was a real knock-out. Sometimes disgusting, but a knock-out. [Which he knows is extra baggage that he carries considering other faces, but resemblances aside, it's still true.]
no subject
Nyx wonders if it's love that makes you put up with someone like that, or if the guy was really that amazing.
More than that, he's still amazed that Kazuhira had such a... colorful history when he was younger! Of course he can plainly see and has noticed before that Kazuhira is a very good looking, but knowing someone is attractive and getting insight into their personal life are worlds apart.
Nyx smirks softly.]
Knock-out: literally. Well, boss, I think you could have some more wild nights if you wanted to. Like I said before you're still handsome.
Or maybe you're not telling me everything, huh? Tell me the truth: you ever do it in the diner?
no subject
[The same way he enjoyed nails digging into his back and across his thighs or teeth at his throat, he enjoyed arms around his throat and throwing punches. But yeah, not something he's into now. He's much more sensitive.]
[He actually barks a laugh at the idea of him in the diner.] No... No the last time was on the Moira. That same knock-out was there for a while. Same guy that put me in the fucking sling shot. We made up for a while and...
Well, to be honest, having him sleep against my back while I played my guitar for him was just as nice. Maybe I am older than I think. [His smile trails off to something somber.]
...And yeah, I'm still good looking. From the neck up anyway. [Yes, he knows. He is a pretty man and he crafts it.]
no subject
[Nyx scratches his cheek and makes a face like he's not really sure what to say to that. However, at the mention of the guitar his expression gets soppy and warm for a moment as he smiles. It sounds nice, that level of intimacy that has nothing to do with sex. Nyx wonders if that's what love is.
The last comment has him making a scoffing noise.]
I can't be the judge of that, I only seen you from the neck up. You always got-- [he motions vaguely to Kazuhira] a million layers on!
no subject
[Kaz shrugs, closing his eyes behind those reflective lenses again.]
Alright. He's a piece of shit much of the time. But he had his moments.
[He doesn't say a word about the layers, but that sort of lingering smile might indicate that's purposeful and again, something he knows. He'll let imaginations do their work.]
no subject
Even if he knows the answer is yes.
Nyx goes to wet his throat with more beer when he realizes he's out and he doesn't even remember finishing it. Without saying anything he moves to the kitchen and gets two new bottles, nice and cold, and hands one off to Kaz even if he's not finished with his first.]
I gave a girl a lap dance once. That's about the craziest thing I've done.
[Since they're sharing and all. Nyx thinks his own sex life has been pretty tame compared to the blond!]
no subject
[He finishes that first beer in a few swallows. The conversation is awkward in a way. There's not many people he talks about this sort of thing with. As Bucky was coming into his sexuality, he made a point of being blunt and honest about his experiences. But Nyx is just... a guy that works for him. And he's just sober enough to wonder if this is appropriate.]
My mother was a prostitute. By the time I was born she owned her own shop so she wasn't exactly "working" anymore, but many of her friends were and they would come in and talk.
So I had a different attitude about it from the start.
[His sex life had a reason to be more tame. Kaz had grown up being annoyed at having to straighten out a grown woman's hosiery when asked.]
no subject
But somehow, he feels really bad for Kaz suddenly. However good Miller's mom, it just doesn't seem right for a kid to be around that from any young age. For some long seconds Nyx is clueless as to what to say. Finally he decides to simply encourage more stories and information from his boss. Maybe it'll get so bright his eyes'll burn right out but for right now, it's just fascinating.]
Was that in Japan? Is prostitution common there?
no subject
She ended up with enough money to get out of it, and for better or worse she ended up with me. She was a strong woman and she did her best. [He doesn't sound judgmental, though.] You don't have to look at me like that.
[Like he pities him for, of all things, having a mother that cared about him. Prostitute or not. Slum or not. Of all the things that went wrong in his life that was probably the one that somehow went the best.]
no subject
Sorry, I... it just sounds like you've been through a lot.
[Nyx takes a gulp of beer and shrugs, not sure what to say. He's trying to stay positive and in a good mood but Mr. Grumpy makes it hard. He tries to think of some way to joke about this but there isn't really. Instead he only shares a small nugget about himself and hopes his boss isn't mad at him.]
My mom did her best too. She was great.
[Then turns the conversation back around to Kaz and maybe something more cheerful.]
I had a sister too, she was even better. Do you have any brothers or sisters?
no subject
My brother died in a war before I had a chance to meet him.
[He knows it's sad.] I don't have many happy stories. That asshole with the boxes and the slingshot took me to the happiest place I ever knew in my life. And after I was done there, Ahab has treated me the best. [He takes another swallow of the new, cold beer, propping his leg up on the arm of the chair lazily.]
Tell me about your sister.