ph_logs | Part Two: The Partner

The inside of Arthur's apartment is a modest affair, mostly a lounge with a hallway and some smaller offshoot rooms; but the dominant item in the lounge, besides a small bureau, is an upright piano pushed into the corner, bracketing a huge window overlooking the downtown square.

"It's not much, but." He looks back at John with a soft smile. "Get comfortable, make yourself at home. Feel free to do whatever you want here."

John will look around curiously, the piano getting an obvious double look before he pointedly doesn't look at Arthur. Then he'll start peering through the doorways, though he stays in the hallway.

"Like what?"

"I don't know, er- look around, familiarise yourself with it." He steps into the room fully, tugging John in a little more. "You live here now, so you can explore every inch of it. If you find- I-I don't know, items you like, or, or a hobby you want to pursue, we can make space for it."

John floats in, but it's clear he doesn't... know what he's supposed to do.

He lives here now? What does that mean? Items? He doesn't have anything. Hobbies?

"Do you... I-is there a bookshelf?"

"Oh, er- yes, I dragged it into my bedroom, actually, it was easier with the lamp there."

And true to his word there's a few scrapes on the floor leading from the lounge into the hallway, and Arthur leads him to the furthest bedroom. It's small and tight, moreso with the waist-high shelves tucked into the corner, and admittedly it's a little sparse.

"There's not much just yet, unfortunately, b-but I'm friends with the man who owns the print shop here, so we can certainly go and get more later."

"All right," he says, still clearly off kilter. Arthur is clearly being hospitable but it's all...

"The print shop makes... books. Right. And there's one just downstairs." He looks back at the door. "Do you have a detective partner?"

"Ah- no no, no." He moves past John to sit on the bed, so he doesn't feel like he's forbidden from coming in and poking around. "But then, I also didn't have my partner, either. Didn't quite feel right doing it with anyone else. You know I don't trust easily."

John has no idea what he's allowed. It's never been an issue. Where Arthur went, he went. He was where Arthur's body was. Everything's confused now.

...he's not even sure if Arthur's talking about him or Parker. He hates that. And he's not sure he wants to ask.

"Oh. Um. Well, if you need any help. I, uh... I do... i-intend to get a job. The mayor said that they needed people."

...perhaps that was too subtle. In John's defence, he wasn't much less overwhelmed when he arrived first, either.

"John, I meant you." He shifts up the bed. "Look, come and have a seat for a moment. I can't imagine how much this all must be for you."

As soon as he's invited, he sits on the bed, the tentacles and smoke splaying out along the ground. One might gently coil towards his foot but draw back when he realizes what he's doing. Then he looks to Arthur and nods.

"R-right. Of course! Yes. We're partners. I'm your partner." He sounds a little more solid now. "I'm just-"

He shakes his head.

"I don't... know how to do this. Any of this. Having... a job. A-and hobbies." A pause. "...I don't suppose they have films here."

"Unfortunately we predate them a little here."

He can see the way John's layers of coils keep pulling away from him, so he decides to just - bridge the gap, and he lifts a hand to take John's.

His right in John's left.

"We'll work it out," he says softly. "I'll teach you. W-whatever you need to know, everything you're curious about. Just like always." And he squeezes his hand gently.

The hand is clawed but it is, at least, a hand. The pure black fingers make Arthur's look pale in comparison, but the size difference isn't that bad. Arthur has pianist's hands, after all.

He nods. Then nods again, determined.

"A-and I'm going to help. I'm going to be useful." Not a parasite. And not... not a problem. No more lying to Arthur. No more- none of that shit. No more.

"Is there- I mean, is there work to do now?"

"Not at the moment, no. Currently I've just been gathering data on the beings in charge of the barrier, anything I can learn about the people in charge of this place, that sort of thing. Trying to get the bigger picture."

John's hand is so strange, and he holds it in both hands while he's talking, just curiously exploring it as a distraction.

"I actually finished my other job earlier today, it's- the reason I can afford this apartment, mostly, I've- been here for nearly a month now, actually."

If anything, telling him about all the facets of his life at once is a refreshing change of pace back to what he's used to: namely several factors going on at once making for an overall crisis. This whole 'regular food and water, place to sleep, employment' is weird and new and John's not sure what he's supposed to do while no one's hunting them down or trying to murder them actively.

...and he likes Arthur playing with his hand. It's nice.

"Your other job? So... I should have two?"

"Christ no, er- let's get you used to having a body before you go about trying more than one job."

His hands still as he takes a breath.

"My other job, it doesn't pay, er. Consistently. So I'm- I'm hoping that investigating might fill the gaps, as it were. I'm..."

He can't quite bring himself to look at John. "I'm a pianist, f-for now."

Oooh.

John's eyes flicker over to the piano.

"Maybe I can help fill the gaps," he says slowly. "If you can help me figure out what job I should take. I-I know you didn't want me to rush into things but I want to help."

He starts fidgeting with John's hand again, mostly thoughtlessly while his mind goes on other tracks.

"Right. Alright, yes. We can- I know there's a few farms on the outskirts of town, apparently they get something of a food allowance as well so you wouldn't have to pay for your portions, since you're helping grow it. Or you can join one of the businesses around town, here, there's plenty of options."

"Farming?" he asks, not quite frowning but there's definitely a feeling of 'frown' to it. "I'm not sure I'd like to be that far away. Hmm. What do you think I'd be suited for in town?"

He hums thoughtfully.

"Certainly not fishing or the mines, then," he muses, "they're both long hours out of town. And despite the wonderful job you did on me," he adds dryly, "I don't think working with any of the doctors will be quite up your alley. So in town, that leaves being a guard, or... an artisan. A creator, of- physical objects, mostly. Art or furniture and such."

Arthur will get to watch him visibly perk up at the mention of an 'artisan', of being a creator: eyes glowing brighter, tentacles shifting, the whole ten yards. If there is one thing that's clear, it's that John definitely shouldn't be the one playing any poker games.

"An artisan? I could- I could... make things?"

God, is this what he looks like when he's a mass of excited bubbles in the back of Arthur's brain? It's fucking adorable.

"Exactly that! You'd probably have to dedicate yourself to one specific kind of crafting - to start with, at least, but- yeah. Jewelry, weaving to make fabrics, sewing and tailoring clothes, smithing, there's plenty of options in town for that sort of thing."

"O-obviously, right, yes," but he still looks so. excited. The golden eyes widen again as he's clearly thinking going through the options, intrigued by all of them. To make jewelry, rings and bracelets and necklaces, beautiful golden things with jewels. Or weaving! He could weave Arthur a blanket, or the fabric for a suit, make him new clothes just how he'd like them! A-and smithing! He's not even sure what that would do, but he could smith! It's probably important.

"What do you think I'd be good at?"

"I don't know, how well can you control all these yet?" he asks, leaning forward to watch the tentacles and smoke react as he gently nudges his foot into them. "Smithing involves a lot of fire and heavy machinery, I don't want you getting hurt like that."

A couple of them slide on either side of his foot but don't coil, and John wonders at the strange feeling in his chest that blooms when Arthur says 'I don't want you getting hurt' that he doesn't entirely understand. But he does understand that it feels nice and warm and has him wanting to wrap all his tentacles around Arthur again just to have him securely.

He doesn't, but the feeling is noted. Instead, he clears his throat.

"So not smithing," because he doesn't- he doesn't want to work somewhere that will worry Arthur. "But I don't really know what you mean by that. I can change their shape and size. How many of them I reach out. It's like using your hand."

But better.

"But better."

Wait.

"More natural. To me. I mean."

"Well- I don't know, it's not like I've ever had tentacles before!" he protests playfully, looking back at John's face. It's odd, seeing the mask-like features, oddly reminiscent of the one they carried on them for so long. "And you'd be appalled how easy it is for humans to get distraction or have a moment of clumsiness and lose a few fingers, o-or an entire hand to it."

He smiles warmly. "For tonight, let's focus on getting you settled. We're safe, we're sheltered with food - tomorrow we can focus on all that job bother."

Part Two: The Partner

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