WHAT. Chill downtime for two sad goths. WHERE. The Barns WHEN. 2032ish, during a quiet time. WARNINGS. Sad thoughts, about losing people and friends and bleak times. STATUS. Complete!
Morpheus often knew when Kenzi was about to return. Not due to intuition as much as it was the kaw of a raven overhead. He was thankful that Matthew had taken it upon himself to protect someone who held Morpheus’ heart all the same as he protected Morpheus.
He would also probably get more details about what she was up from a chatty Matthew than he would Kenzi, but Morpheus was not one to push. Matthew had told Kenzi where he would be, and he knew that she would return to him, as she always did.
The Barns was quiet. It was eerie now, where before the magic of this place was a beacon in his mind, full of dreamed things and power. Now, the magic was barely there. A hum in the back of his mind constantly, though it was louder when Ronan and little Nora were nearby. But right now, it was quiet. He knew Cabeswater was there, in the background, but he didn’t touch on it now or any time Ronan wasn’t near.
Instead he sat quietly, now, with a small stack of books he was sorting through, enough space left free on their bed for Kenzi to flop down upon her return, as she was prone to doing. He set aside a few books for his own reading, a few he thought Kenzi would like, others he would take to the Outpost in a day or two. All of which gave him something to focus when he couldn’t slip into The Dreaming.
Surviving had always been Kenzi’s thing. Figuring out her place in a shitty environment, where resources were scarce and dangers lurked – very similar to growing up as a homeless street kid, but the situation was on mega steroids compared to that. With the whole evil puppeting things, and fallen city thing, and monsters thing, and the rampant…
Death thing.
But she adapted. Adapting meant staying alive, although staying alive also required the involvement of some risky situations. Kenzi went out frequently, sticking to the shadows, waiting and observing - she’d run into others and lend a hand with a mission or two, scavenge what she could find. Loot some bodies and abandoned posts for desirable items to trade. People would do anything for the sake of indulging in old comforts; cigarettes, alcohol, oreos, high-quality mascara, dry shampoo.
She slit a throat or two on occasion. Maybe three. Maybe four. Maybe a lot. Snitches get stitches, you know.
Kenzi always made sure to come back home, though. Her footwear at this age was tragically practical - same with her clothes - but she did her best to keep it a little stylish, a little edgy. She’d worry about getting comfortable later. The most she did was slip off the messenger bag off her shoulders to sit on the floor before, predictably, flopping onto the bed.
“‘Sup,” she greeted tiredly, taking a moment to close her eyes and let out a deep exhale. “I got good news for Nora, and bad news for you.”
“Hello,” Morpheus’ reply was soft and warm. Even with as chaotic and busy as things could get around here, he missed her when they were apart. Morpheus had never been particularly good at touch, a very mortal thing that most of them required, but he had learned over the years.
It was a practiced move now, to brush her hair slightly to the side, to let that hand trail down to rest gently on the side of her cheek. Bad news didn’t often actually come from that kind of setup. Real bad news these days involved losing more of their numbers. Numbers that they could not afford to lose. “Is it that you found nail polish but not books?” Which would likely mean he would end up with painted nails, if that was the case. Morpheus was not very good at telling Nora, or any of the other small children, no.
“Not just nail polish,” Kenzi told him, a grin slowly spreading across her face as her eyes cracked open. His hand on her cheek was a reason for that too – any touch from Morpheus was intimate, even the small ones. “Found some pretty intact eyeshadow and a blush pad. She might need to practice on you before she tries some on herself.”
It wasn’t anything name brand. There was an old house that had sat abandoned for too long that she searched through, and at some point a little girl must have lived there; it was part of some glittery unicorn set.
Propping her head up with her elbow, she looked up at him with a little mischief. The jokes had been… toned down over the years. She was a lot less weird these days, but sometimes there were moments. “There’s a shade of hot pink that'll look good on you.”
Morpheus snorted quietly. “So this is what it has come to, hmm? It will be like 18th century Versailles all over again.” He had always enjoyed blending in with mortals and walking among them - it allowed him to understand them better. To watch them. To pull things from their lives that did not quite reach their dreams. That always involved the latest trends.
“I would not have complained if you had found black eyeliner, but I would not have wanted to fight you for it.” They always had the kohl trick he’d learned hundreds of years before, but there was something to be said for the invention of waterproof eyeliner. “She will enjoy that, however, and it will torture Ronan even more. So perhaps it is not all bad.”
It might even put a smile on Ronan’s face if Nora went heavyhanded, and that kind of enjoyment was a rarity.
“Ronan’s going to haaaaate it,” she drawled, forcing herself to sit up with a slight grimace – her bones ached, and she always came back a bit bruised but never anything life-threatening, knock on wood – to reach for her bag. “Which means he’s going to secretly love it.”
Kenzi rummaged through the goods to pull out the little makeup kit, a handful of perfectly intact cigarettes (a very sought-out after item, good for trades), toiletries (it’s important to have soft things to wipe your ass with), and a few other things (like a surprisingly non-expired bottle of ibuprofen), but the most important thing wasssss…
“Found Cookie Crisp cereal,” she snorted, shaking the box. “Expired but unopened. Figured it could be a good treat. I followed a lead for Evie that led me to jackshit, but someone left behind a stash of crap and – behold. What are you reading, anyway?”
Morpheus wasn’t one for eating, even though he could feel hunger after enough time passed. But it wasn’t a priority, and he had more often than not passed along his rations and food to the others around him. But he did know the value of a treat. An entire pack of “swiss rolls” had gotten him a bottle of wine, a bar of chocolate, and rose-scented bodywash for Kenzi in just the year before. “I have never heard of that. That does not seem healthy.”
He held up a book from the top of the pile he’d made for her, Frankly In Love boldly written on the cover. “It is about fake dating. You may read it first before it goes into the library, if you would like.” He always gave her what was commonly referred to as “dibs”, but it was also a good measure of what others might enjoy, as Morpheus read everything that passed through his hands no matter if it was good or terrible.
“Unhealthy treats are the best,” Kenzi countered, tearing open the cardboard flaps and popping open the plastic bag that held the treasure. Tiny bite-sized cookies. There was no point in looking to see if they had fresh, cold milk stocked up anywhere - she was running on the assumption that they didn’t, anyway - but she was still pretty pleased about this whole thing.
It’s the simple things in a shit world.
After fishing one out for him to try, she leaned into Morpheus and held it up to his mouth. “I’ll give it a go - it sounds like it might be trashy.” There was comfort in trashy reads, though, and Kenzi herself used to read dumb shit like smutty pirate novels with some ripped shirtless dude on the cover.
“I dislike that word. Trashy. All books have their place. The only ones that belong in the trash are political.” Mind you, he was a judgemental asshole at times, so it didn’t hold much weight for his nose to wrinkle up. But he had a small cookie shoved at his face and that also earned a face wrinkle. It was only a three second pause (barely) before he gave in and opened his mouth to accept the offering.
After one crunch, then two, he had to admit it wasn’t bad. The slight aftertaste of cardboard and processed chocolate ruminate around in his mouth and he tilted his head in thought. “It is certainly not grapes and cheese being hand-fed to one during ancient roman times. But I have had worse.”
“Mmm, grapes and cheese are too fancy for this shithole world,” Kenzi smirked, narrowing her stare into what was more of an impish look than anything else. “During the apocalypse? We get past-the-expiration-date Cookie Crisp, baby.”
Turns out it was stale Cookie Crisp. Having the box be unopened meant nothing. Too much time had passed, but it was… edible, she discovered, as she ate them with a slight grimace. Oh well. Beggars couldn’t be choosers and it’s not, like, fresh cookies were much of a thing anymore. (If they were, she was tempted to sell a tit for it.)
“Anyway,” she continued, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to his cheek. “Missed you. Missed this bed too but–mostly you.”
Morpheus hummed in return, quietly ruminating on that statement. He had seen many civilizations fall, had lived through a hundred years of imprisonment, had his empire fall and rebuilt it. There had been apocalypses and destruction in the past. But he had never been quite as vulnerable as he was here, against Interitus.
“I will feed you grapes and cheese in the future,” that was a promise, and said with firm conviction. They would recover eventually, or they would die trying and end up in the afterlife. But he would go nowhere without her. Morpheus wrapped an arm around her hip and pulled her close to his side. “I am glad to have you returned to my arms once more. The world is ever more bleak while you are away.”
Kenzi didn’t have much hope for the future. She’d argue it was more realism than cynicism; Vallo was falling apart, the magic was almost dead, so many people were just dead. Bo was gone when it should have been her.
That killing blow wasn’t Bo’s to take, but she just had to take it for her, didn’t she – had to go down all sacrificial and heroic and just ugh. She tried the hero thing with her, tried fighting to lend a hand and do her part and all she got was a dead best friend to show for it. Choke on a nut, Vallo.
But then Morpheus would talk like he was making a promise, and she wanted to let herself believe that it was a fantasy that might just actually be real one day. He never said anything he didn’t mean. Kenzi found comfort in that. “Love that you can still romance me with words even during the dark ages,” she chuckled, abandoning the stale cereal in favor of cuddling and snatching his chin in between her fingers. “I’ve got no immediate scouting plans unless someone hits me up for a job, so. All yours, Morphy. I’m really wanting to stay holed up here for a while and play house.”
It was the only thing she looked forward to these days.
“I have lived through many dark ages, and rarely have they had your brand of light.” It was no hardship to continue with words he hoped she would appreciate, and it even made the corner of his mouth curve up just slightly in a self-satisfied smirk.
“I believe we have the house to ourselves for the day.” Or longer, depending on how Ronan’s trip went, but Morpheus knew that the Dreamer did not like being away from Adam’s prison for long, if he could help it. And Morpheus was not particularly fond of Ronan being too far away from him, if he could help it. Keeping tabs on people in the apocalypse had become infinitely more difficult, even with the ravens.
His hand came up to push Kenzi’s hair off of her neck. “Do you wish to nap?”
Kenzi was, like, really into that smirk, and she showed her appreciation for it by running her thumb across his lips. If it weren’t for Morpheus – well, shit, sticking around during the apocalypse wouldn’t seem as appealing. She was stubborn and scrappy, and knew how to sneak and make an escape. Surviving was what she was good at. Having someone to live for made the difference.
“I mean, suuuure,” she snickered, bumping their noses together so she could kiss him. “But there’s a more fun way to put me to sleep, and since we have the house to ourselves…”
Well. She doubted she’d need to wiggle her eyebrows at him to make a point.