004 ◉ audio; dated to the 14th

[imaginate]

[ The audio clicks on and there's a long pause. When Kyle speaks, his tone is calm, perfectly controlled. It's his Business Voice, blank save for the barest hint of anger. ]

This is Kyle Rayner of the Green Lantern Corps. I apologise for the inconvenience, but our clinic at EA-3B is currently undergoing repairs and won't be able to take more patients at this time. We'll be temporarily operating a backup at WA-1A. [ He attaches a map, showing where it is. ]

Any and all hands with medical experience or healing abilities are always welcome.

[ Another long pause. ]

And if someone could come collect Avatar Korra, that would be appreciated.

[ There is a brief pause, as though he's debating what more to say, before the audio clicks off. ]

Comments

[jirk]

[Jim gives him a Look. No need to be a smart-ass. God, is this how Bones feels around him? No wonder the man's going gray. Kyle's the one always insisting on yes or no answers.

So Jim shakes his head a little, and then reaches out to clap a hand to Kyle's shoulder.]

Everything's contained, and the building won't keel over for at least an hour if we leave it unsupervised, right?

[imaginate]

[Kyle returns the Look, along with some confusion.]

[Carefully:] What are you trying to do?

[jirk]

Look, I've seen you pissed off enough ['I usually caused it', but that goes without saying] that I know the symptoms. Let's go get some food, I'll give you a hand figuring out where we're getting materials from, you can yell at me about getting around town on this leg, and hopefully you'll feel better afterwards. Deal?

[imaginate]

[A smile finds its way to his face.]

This isn't pissed off. Pray you never see me pissed off.

[He runs a hand through his hair.]

Let's skip to making sure you don't strain your leg, all right? I'm not that hungry, and I have to wait for a few people to show up so I can finalise some contracts.

[jirk]

There's not a lot I pray for, Angel, and trust me when I say that wouldn't be one of them.

[Because the implication there is you couldn't handle it, and that irritates him to no end. Still, it's a manageable irritation, not the sort that leads to them fighting (again) so he just eases his hands in the air.]

Leave a construct that can take a message, because I tell you what, I am starving, and I bet the Doc would be angry with you if you let her star patient wither away to nothing.

[imaginate]

[The look in his eyes is not anger, or irritation at being misinterpreted, it is sadness. Shame, too, and guilt.]

Pray for this.

[For me.]

[He shrugs, and turns, ringing up a construct Kyle to stand guard.]

Let's go eat, then.

[jirk]

[Jim knows Kyle's religious, and he's certain Kyle knows he's not, so he doesn't reply to that. Just gives him a careful look, and then whacks a hand against his shoulder, a follow me as he heads off down the street. There's a cafe that serves - no kidding - the closest thing to Earth-based pancakes he's seen since he got here, and he really is starving.]

[imaginate]

[Kyle follows, utterly silent. Unconsciously, he starts to float, so that he's walking just a few inches above the ground.]

[jirk]

[And without thinking about it, Jim reaches out to pull him back down.]

So what sort of breakfast do you even like, anyway?

[imaginate]

[He stumbles, startled.]

[Rueful:] Pancakes.

[jirk]

This place has great pancakes. Just saying. And if you flirt with the waitress you can even get the local equivalent of strawberries on top. Still working on whipped cream, though.

[Apparently they just don't believe in whipping cream in these parts, g o s h.]

[imaginate]

[There's something about Jim that makes Kyle quiet. He wonders if this is how Connor feels, when the two of them are together. Both have the same substrata (the same rage), and his friend had always been his rock. His first real friend, who could point an arrow at him and both of them wouldn't mean it.]

[Play comes the easiest to him, but for some reason they're out of sync again and he can't play, can't banter. That's shutting him off, making him careful about his words, movements. He withdraws, becomes a force that drags in everything with it, carries it downstream and lets it sink deep into the ocean (Jim is fire, a conflagration. If Kyle wasn't careful they'd both burn).]

[And he's still fighting the thought that everything came too easily to Jim. Fighting it, hard.]

[He follows, nodding and smiling as best he can.]

[jirk]

[He can't help but notice. Jim's a lot of things, but observant is one of them (even when he pretends it isn't, and convinces other people of the same) and Kyle's attitude is back to zero. It's like they're on a sliding scale, and the more time they spend together the closer they are to actual friendship, but any time apart and the number resets.

Be direct? Sure. Watch him. He stops, taking care not to lean too much on his cane.]

Hey. What's up?

[imaginate]

[He lifts one shoulder in a helpless shrug.]

I don't know. We're out of sync again.

[jirk]

Okay. So we fix it. Break it down, what's the catalyst?

[He's got a few ideas, but this one, he thinks, is Kyle's.]

Because I like you, man, but I'm not gluing myself to you 24/7 just so we don't end up at each other's throats.

[imaginate]

[He just looks at Jim, his eyes and shoulders heavy.]

Can we just.. eat, first?

[jirk]

[Jim's in Problem Solving mode, it takes him a couple seconds (and one good look at Kyle's posture) to relent.

There's almost no one alive that can make him back down from anything, but he nods, accepting it from Kyle.]

Sure. You wanna ring up a car or something?

[He tilts his head, smiles a little.]

How about a 1965 Chevy Corvette Stingray? Pop top, the whole nine yards.

[imaginate]

Hm.

[The heaviness leaves, replaced by curiosity.]

Gimme a moment.

[The car forms, slowly, engine first. The gears fit together, then Kyle adds the interior. Steering wheel, upholstery. A small figurine of Hal Jordan. Then he adds the doors, windows, and gestures to Jim to get in to the driver' seat.]

[jirk]

[He wonders if that's something he shouldn't have given away, but the car - even made of the hard-light green - is as beautiful as he remembers. Dad's car, he thinks, and he trails his fingers along the car door.

Normally, he'd jump over the door and settle into the seat, but he's pretty sure that'd be an actual disaster with his leg the way it is, so instead he opens the door and drops down into the passenger's seat with a slight shake of his head to Kyle. It's weird, not to automatically take the lead, want to drive. But it's a manual transmission, and again-- leg.]

So who's the bobble head?

[He points at Hal.]

[imaginate]

[Huh.]

[He takes the driver's seat, getting himself comfortable. It's been a while since he actually drove a car. Once his seatbelt is fastened, he looks towards where Jim is pointing.]

[It's extremely tempting, to spin some grand tale about the only fearless he'd met (but that wasn't true, Guy was fearless, until Kyle had learnt otherwise), or even as a friend, but the truth was... Hal Jordan was the man in whose shadow Kyle stood, and would always stand. It was how legacies worked.]

My predecessor.

[There's warmth, just a little bit, because they're friends, but no other emotion.]

[jirk]

[But Jim hears something about the weight, the burden that the man presents instead, and he tilts his head just a little. Listening for something only he can hear, running his fingers along the dash. It's got none of the 23rd century modifications his dad had installed, but it's... nice, seeing it stock.

(Is that seriously a tape deck?)]

Casts a pretty big shadow, huh.

[imaginate]

Something like that.

[He taps the tape deck.]

Any requests?

[jirk]

Probably nothing you'd know. I was raised on 22nd century rock. It's okay, I don't mind the silence.

[He sprawls a little in the seat, tips his head back. Just enjoying the day. Breathing in.]

[imaginate]

[Kyle considers, and then he turns on the radio. The song plays, and it's sadness, but it's an emotion one can compartmentalise. It's all his burdens and darkness at once, and he packages it carefully, putting it away.]

[When they reach the restaurant, he'll be in a considerably better mood.]

[jirk]

[Well, that's. Macabre. But Jim says nothing, just goes along with it, and stretches when he gets out. He cocks his head, tips his head to the door in an 'after you' gesture.]