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Yesterday was not a bad day for Ziv, but it ended -- weirdly. They're aware enough to know that they're feeling -- unsettled. Not okay. Muddled. Thankfully not hallucinating or totally disconnected, but:
I'm feeling weird. Had a bad moment last night. Can I meet you somewhere?
And after sending that text, Ziv waits.
Of course. Where did you have in mind?, comes the eventual reply.
I haven't been to the museum. There's only one museum which would be the museum to Ziv.
Yep. And it's catty corner to where Aaron awoke. So that's going to be fun.
Haven't been there since my arrest. But I think it might do us both some good. I can be there in about a half hour?
The things that people don't know, right?
Oof. If you're okay with that. <3 Meet you there. Love you.
It's fine. I'll try not to hit any cops this time. See you soon. xoxo
A little distracted, a little out of sorts, but still essentially themself. Not staring off into space disconnected from reality: this is how Ziv waits outside the National Museum of American Jewish History, right off of Independence Mall. It is, in fact, literally right across the street from where Aaron punched out a cop. They've got their backpack over both shoulders, and they're leaning against the corner of the building next to the door. Today's shirt is relatively tame -- a light blue button-down with cartoony otters and other sea life -- and their shorts aren't super short. It's as dressy as Ziv gets on this devil's-ass-crack-hot Summer day.
Sometimes, you just want to make a fucking point.
Aaron hops off at the 8th and Market station and ascends into the sunlight. He's sporting his big rainbow yarmulke, hand made so stylishly by Lux. Then he's wearing a black fitted t-shirt featuring the blazoned circle 'GOOD NIGHT ALT-RIGHT' with the curb stomping already in progress. From beneath that dangle the tzit-tzit of his garment style tallis. Jeans and his hiking boots complete the look. His go bag is on his shoulder as he progresses down the block.
Past the cop cars that loiter near the Mall.
Past the coffee shops and commercial areas where the tourist flock and gather.
Past the Independence Hall itself, even. Not a sideways glance. Let them say something first, if they're going to.
Aaron just saunters up towards Ziv with a beard he's now starting to let grow in. Because why not? "Shalom, Ziv."
The subtle details of the point that Aaron's making may be lost on Ziv, but the broad strokes aren't. When the rainbow beacon of the Homosexual Menace's yarmulke comes bobbing over the crowds of Independence Mall, Ziv lights up -- quite literally, if one could see their Mien, which Aaron can't right now, so he'll just have to see their hazel eyes sparkling as they roll up to their toes, raising a hand in greeting so the short Darkling can be seen over the crowd.
As he gets closer, and the whole of that outfit comes into focus, there's a momentary bite on their lower lip before that lit up expression turns into a broad grin. "Shalom, Aaron." Their face tips up, and they push up onto their toes again. Whether they kiss his scruffy cheek or his mouth is up to him.
They kiss his mouth, because of course. If you're out to tick some boxes, tick the fuck out of them in #2 pencil. Aaron loops his arm around Ziv's shoulders and tucks them in against his side as he moves to pull open the door, holding it for an elderly couple who receive a warm smile and a dip of the head, "Welcome." Once the couple are in, Aaron ushers Ziv in ahead of himself and pulls up the rear. He's smiling, too, if a bit more subdued than Ziv is under the circumstances.
"Hi," Ziv greets the couple, too, politely, and is tucked in against Aaron's side with a very content expression, their incandescent delight fading to a much more gentle happiness. One noodle-thin arm wraps around his waist, and they follow along with him. "I used to go to the Jewish Museum in Portland a lot," they explain. Of course they did -- an easy way to engage their Touchstone which didn't require anyone else. "But I haven't been here. The website says they extended their exhibit on Ruth Bader Ginsberg." Because there is no exhibit right now IRL so we'll go with the earlier exhibit.
"It's pretty intense, Ziv. Not going to lie. But the gift shop is lovely, and they have a good deal of books, too. A cafe, too. Which I quite like, actually. So if you decide you want a nosh, we can head there." Aaron steps up to the counter once the older couple have their tickets. He flashes his member ID and gets his wrist band and one for Ziv, slipping it onto their wrist and clipping it into place. There. "Thank you," he says to the desk staff before heading in and gesturing Ziv about. "Where to? I've seen it all, so."
"It's always intense. But it's a centering sort of intense," they answer, extending their wrist so that they can have their wrist band secured. The smile they give him is a little rueful. "I appreciate it. The number of books I have is -- very few. So, a new one or two wouldn't hurt me." And might, in fact, be very helpful, all things considered. They step through the metal detector, pass their backpack through the scanner, and wait for Aaron on the other side, tucking themself in against his side once more. "Let's go see the new exhibit, and then maybe the permanent exhibits? I don't know which families donated things here." Which is to say, maybe theirs.(edited)
"I'm here for you, Ziv. So lead on." Aaron's backpack contains a whole lot of eye raising but also perfectly legal things. It's an urban survival go-bag. He gets the bag back, offers the guard a smile, and shoulders the bag again, following along after Ziv. "Let's go explore the life and times of the Notorious RBG, then. The last bastion of sanity in a world gone mad." He heads towards the elevator. Yesterday was leg day, okay? He leans down to give the top of Ziv's keppie a smooch while waiting on the elevator.
The elevator is a fine and wonderful thing for a Ziv, if only because they are a noodle. Also, once the doors close, there's a period of about thirty seconds wherein they're pretty sure that no one can hear them. "I got -- startled, let's call it -- last night by someone who probably should know better. Kind of knocked me off my game. So I appreciate it." Their smile is a little weak, but the kiss to the top of the head brightens it again. It's annoying, being able to have your sanity knocked off center relatively easily, but such is Clarity.
"I'm sorry that happened to you," Aaron offers with a slight jostle of his arm around Ziv's shoulders. "And I'm glad you called me to include me in your recovery. I know Rieko is trying to learn enough to be able to help you out when this happens. You might talk to her about that, too. I think she's maybe a bit hesitant to bring it up. Because it's a lot, you know. And she might not feel up to trying to learn in the face of it, with me right here. And I don't want her to feel like she can't access that part of you."
They pull in a breath, and let it out. "I will," they assure him, turning their head to kiss the round of his shoulder when he jostles them. "I didn't want to -- uhh -- in this specific instance, I didn't want to make a big deal out of the fact that I had gotten bothered, partially because she was there, and she hadn't? So I didn't want her to feel like -- " One hand raised to scratch at the back of their head as they look for words. "She gets guilty about stuff. We all do, I mean, but it might bug her that she didn't get bothered by what Johnnie did? It was a stupid prank, really, but it just -- hit me wrong, because of how I am, versus how she is. We're fragile to different things."
They puff out their cheeks. "But in general, yes." The elevator door opens, and they step out to the top floor.
"I invited her to Intro to Judaism. And to meet my Sensei. So. I think I'm doing metamour right." Aaron steps out of the elevator and into the exhibit, removing his arm from around Ziv's shoulders so that they can guide the tour from here on out. He slips his bag onto both of his shoulders so he can hook his thumbs in his bag straps and have something to do with his hands for the time being. He sort of ghosts along after Ziv, not quite looming, but never quite letting them out of his sight in this space. Being this near the mall always gives him the willies anymore.
"For someone who says they're totally untrained and not very good at polyamory, you're doing much better than ... well, a lot of people who've been at it a lot longer. You are definitely doing metamour right." They step out into the exhibit, trailing through it. They pause in front of one of the pictures, looking back and forth to make sure that no one's standing near them when they murmur quietly, "She's three years younger than I am."
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