June 22nd, 1894

[temsikspirit]

It was a particularly dark evening, one without any moon to cast its glow. The streets downtown at least were lit well enough for pedestrians still straggling home but it was of no concern to the man in the overcoat. Not when a simple slip into the world of the dead would negate the need for light at all.

Nor is he on his way to any particular place. For the moment, he's contented himself with leaning back against a wall, watching the occasional person stroll down the street. To them he might as well not be there at all. Today would have been just as uneventful as any other were it not for his earlier meeting with a couple acquaintances of the blue-skinned variety. Weren't many of them around here and they sure stuck out like a sore thumb but the influx of immigrants lately brings many surprises to this land of opportunity. The thought alone would make him smirk had he less motor control.

It was business as usual, more discussions, more requests of proof. Yomiel was happy to oblige but it was starting to feel like they were making him go through the mill for this. It was going to take them a heck of a lot longer to make arrangements at this pace but the truth was...he could wait, if he had to. It'd all pan out in the end.

The thought strikes him that he should probably head home soon but there isn't much reason for it. There's no urgency to his existence, hardly a reason for any adherence to time save for a horse who might need him. The queerness of that thought immediately turns his mood for worse. Maybe he'll drop his body and possess some sap tonight for fun.

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[temsikspirit]

Yomiel follows the staggering deputy, watching his footing and prepared to try grabbing him if it should come down to it. However the worry proves unnecessary once Apollo makes his way outside without taking any nosedives. Standing beside him out here, hands in his pockets, he finds himself briefly wishing he could feel the night, the temperature, the breeze. But it seems so long ago that it strikes him he might not even be recalling it correctly. It's then when Apollo asks about the stars and startles him enough to prompt a blank and calculating stare.

"....sure we can," he drawls, brightening considerably with the white flash of his exaggerated grin. "Got all the time in the world if you do, partner. Just lead the way then, will ya?"

He lets a gloved hand drop on Apollo's shoulder, partially to help support him and partly because he sure seems strangely compelled to find the occasional excuse to touch this guy. He doesn't think much of it, but the fact of the matter is he's been without friendly contact with another human being (though he's admittedly unsure if he qualifies as human anymore) for the better part of six years. Sure, he might be unable to really feel it but the complexities and mental stimulation accompanying this amiable kind of interaction is something it turns out he sorely missed. Sour reminders of the past and current predicament aside, running into Justice tonight had done a number on the terrible mood he walked in here with. It was the kind of mood that would have taken some undue behavior to vent, and yet here he is about to go godsdamn stargazing instead. What a night.