Rough Night? [Banjo]

[Kazooie]

It had been quite the late night for Kazooie, and she had looked forward to dreams--they brought her an immeasurable amount of strength during the night and prepared her for the next day's hard work. She had said goodnight to Banjo, and shifted into bird form for the night before plopping into his backpack. It was a hard habit to break. Despite nearly ten years of relative peace for the bear and bird, she was still certain that if she wasn't nestled tight in the rough fabric, she would wake to disaster or, worse, not wake at all.

It's a safe, comfortable place, she thought to herself every night. Truly, it was no safer than walls or holes in the ground, but convincing the bird of this was no easy feat. She was stubborn. If you had asked Kazooie about her fears, she would laugh at you and state that she was long over the trauma. And she was honest, for the most part, but there would always be something inside her that was concerned about everything that went bump in the night.

Perhaps it was the midsummer's bustle that disgruntled her that night. She had managed to fall asleep but her dreams were torturing her for the first time in years. Dark red clouds filled her mind's eye. The witch--now simply animated, living bones--cackled as she threw numerous fireballs towards the bird and her friends. She was out of golden feathers.

Kazooie shook about in the bag, which in turn shook the coat rack on which the backpack was perched with a nasty rattle. She cawed and croaked in fear, unable to protect her friends in the deep dreaming. The rack shook violently before tipping towards Banjo's bed, where the bird tumbled out of the bag. It was evident she was still living in the dream, however, as she fumbled around.

"No, don't--"

[----------]

NOTES ;; First time for everything... here goes nothing. 
MOOD;; Terrified, miserable _{(and yes, she's still asleep)}
OUTFIT ;; [nudist bird]
TAG ;; Banjo
LISTENING TO ;; Final Battle, Grant Kirkhope _{(B-K Soundtrack)}

[Banjo]

It hadn't been an amazing day for Banjo, and he'd thrown himself into his bed that night with few words. Kazooie had given him her best goodnight, and he'd barely managed a grunt of affirmation. It felt like the days were getting rougher and longer, and the nights shorter and more bittersweet. He'd landed face-first in his pillows and had fallen asleep without another word between the two of them.

He wasn't exactly used to waking up when Kazooie had nightmares, not anymore, so it came as a groggy surprise when she fell onto his bed, backpack and all. He sat up, blinking away the sleep, and watched the bird thrash about in the low lighting. It had been years since the last time this had happened, since the last time either of them had woken in a cold sweat because of what they'd experienced together. Kazooie was probably the only one that would ever understand the experience now that Bottles was gone, but... Banjo tried not to think about it and instead focused on the bird in front of him.

"Zooie?" he ventured in a whisper, putting a hand on her wing softly. He'd found out the hard way that disturbing her with force or trying to restrain her would put him on the receiving end of a maneuver they'd called the Rat-a-tat Rap, which involved a lot of pecking that he really didn't want to receive this late at night. "Zooie. I'm here. We're okay." He shook his hand on her wing with as little force as he could manage that he thought would still get the job done. "You're safe, okay? Wake up."

Sometimes, Kazooie's nightmares would require Banjo to be a little rougher in order to wake her up. He really, really hoped tonight was not one of those nights.

words [ 304 ]
mood [ concerned ]
outfit [ why shirts? why ever shirts ]
tag [ Kazooie ]
notes [ will work on post template at a later point in time ]

[Kazooie]

Kazooie felt the pressure on her wing even in her dreams--a shock that made the world around her crumble and brought her back into reality. She woke with a start, her heart pounding, and prepared herself for battle before realising the person touching her was merely Banjo. The shadows became clear, revealing to the bird that she was where she fell asleep... Banjo's room. 

"Holy mother of fuck," she said, taking in her surroundings. The coat rack was lying on the floor, broken again for the first time in a few years, and she had made a complete mess of the backpack she had been sleeping in. It was riddled with holes, and she realised that all of the ripping and pecking she had done to the witch had been taken out on the bag. 

The dream clung to her, the ugly, skeletal visage of the witch they had personally buried haunting her thoughts. She's dead. Long gone. The bile-skinned fucker can't come back to life, not like that... right? Couldn't she? She found herself thinking like the human she once thought she was. With all that had happened in her life, she realised that "couldn't" was a thing of the past. Everything was possible. Magic was real, weres and shapeshifting were all things she'd had first-hand experience with... who was to say necromancy wasn't out of the question? 

A voice of reason came to her then, soothing her a little more. If Gruntilda was going to come back to life, it would have happened by now. It's been ten years of silence on the witch's front. There's nothing to fear. Besides, you could beat the living shit out of her bag of bones body if push came to shove. You're a big kid now.

It was late; possibly three or four in the morning, not early enough for the birds outside to be awake but too late for much excitement in the street. She looked back up to Banjo, hoping she hadn't hurt him in her desperation. "Sorry about the rack. You okay, fuzzy? I didn't give you a Beak Barge, did I?" 

[----------]

NOTES ;; I just realised I left the entire last post in italics whoops
MOOD;; Startled, still a little frightened but her pride refuses to show it
OUTFIT ;; [ still in her birdthday suit ]
TAG ;; Banjo
LISTENING TO ;; silence
WORDS ;; ~350

[Banjo]

Banjo shook his head. "Nope. I'm fine. The rack can be fixed. The bag..." He looked at the holes in the backpack, shaking his head. "Can be fixed. We can fix all this stuff. You're not an inanimate object, though. Are you okay?" His eyebrows drew together in the low light, tightening his grip on her wing. "If you're not, well, I'm a bear and that means I am a professional cuddler." She hadn't taken him up on it for... well, ever, but it was worth a shot. "And if you are, that's great. I'm just... I want to make sure." He nodded, as if to confirm it for himself as well.

Truth be told, Banjo had woken to several nightmares of his own recently, but he hadn't wanted to talk about them for fear of putting Kazooie back in a bad place mentally. They'd been doing so well, and then out of the blue he'd found himself tossing and turning in the middle of the night trying to escape from contaminated water, making it even harder for him to get up the courage to get himself back into swimming. He knew it was irrational, but he always expected the water to be so foul it stole breath from his lungs just for being around it. Grunty had messed both of them up pretty bad.

"I wonder what happened to Clanker," he murmured, more to himself than her.

Shaking his head, Banjo focused back on Kazooie. "Sorry. Is there anything I can do? I want to help if there is. Even if it's making you food at..." He glanced at his clock. "3:15 in the morning. Really, anything. I've got the day off tomorrow, and... we can do anything you want to do. Promise. I want you to feel better, if there's anything that I can do about it."

words [ 310 ]
mood [ really concerned, also a little flashbacky ]
outfit [ shirts, more like worst ]
tag [ Kazooie ]
notes [ still planning to work on post template later, probably tomorrow ]

[Kazooie]

The mention of Clanker caught her off guard. The old part-mechanical whale had dealt with so much, and yet he was possibly the kindest of the beings she had met. She didn't want to think of what would happen to him now that his... owner? Caretaker?--well, after Grunty had gone. "I'm sure he's okay, Banjo. And I'm fine, really. Had a rough day at work yesterday with a couple of war vets. That's probably what did me in. I'll buy you a new bag, it's my bed anyway." Kazooie was a great liar, but Banjo always seemed to catch the smallest hints when it came to her emotional state. It was likely that he would still catch the fear in her still-racing heart, but this was a matter of pride. She hadn't fought her way through everything just to be deemed weak or easily harmed, and if there was a chance that he was thinking so she had to deny it. 

Of course he's not thinking you're weak. You literally fought most of his battles.

Well, her thoughts had more sense than her pride did. "I wouldn't mind cuddles, actually... but we need to talk about something a bit more serious, I think," she said. She loosened Banjo's grip on her wing and allowed her feathers to retract, her legs to flesh out, her beak to return to a normal face, and quickly she was human again. Completely naked, sure, but human. "I think we need to get out. Leave. Explore what the world has to offer besides witches and nasty ports. It'd be good for both of us."

Everything around them was better now, certainly, but Kazooie would be lying if she didn't notice that Banjo had been looking a bit more weary than usual in the mornings before they both left for work. She had guessed that nightmares were plaguing him, but he also had some amount of pride. The nightmares may have even been her fault. After all, she had been coaxing him back into swimming as the temperatures started to climb. Anyone would react to their triggers to some extent, and the bear had been putting on too good a poker face. There was a sickly moment of regret and silence.

She brought her mind back to the conversation. This would be good for the both of them, that much she was certain. "The house will be fine. We'll lock up. Or, we could hire someone to house sit or let your sister live back here for the summer or something, if she wants. Maybe we could find the Skullkid and ask him to teleport us somewhere. He could probably do that? Well, maybe. I guess the fucker only really showed us he was good at transforming things."

NOTES ;; ~[If you want me to make artstuffs for your post I can but it'll take some time. Seeing as we're running Scion tomorrow, it definitely won't be done by then.]~
MOOD;; ~[slightly rattled, but adventurous, especially for three in the morning.]~
OUTFIT ;; ~[Now human. Still completely nude.]~
TAG ;; ~[Banjo]~
LISTENING TO ;; ~[Royals, but in Irish.]~
WORDS ;; ~[approx. 460]~

[Banjo]

Banjo nodded sympathetically at the mention of the veterans, then shook his head. "No. I'll just patch it up. I don't want to toss it, even if it is really old. It's got too much attached to it." He let her shift back into her human form, putting his hand on her bare shoulder after her feathers had disappeared. Banjo stayed quiet as he listened to her, taking in the advice and nodding slightly. "Yeah. That's... that's probably a good idea. I just don't know where we'll go. England is... all I've ever known, really. And the world's still sort of at war, or at least in conflict. This is one of the few places where our people are on top, where we know we're not going to get dragged asunder on accident if things go wrong."

Banjo took a deep breath, clearing his mind of the fear he'd been succumbing to all too much lately. "But to hell with it. Tooty is old enough to take care of the house while we're away, and some fresh air would do us both some real good. She's been driving for a little while and I think this is closer to her temp job than the place she's staying. I think she's got a roommate, maybe we can let her live there too? Let them stay here for free so long as they keep the place clean enough to live in. We can... we can take the summer off. You've got some money, we can tell our employers we're taking an extended leave of absence and we'll be back in the fall, assuming the war doesn't blow up and that we don't get too caught up in what's happening."

He scratched the back of his head, then let his hand rest on the side of his neck. "We could try to find Mumbo. I don't know where he's off to, but... we could try. It's worth a shot, at least, and getting him to get us somewhere would definitely be cheaper than a plane ticket into possibly hostile territory."

The werebear was not as fond of adventuring as Kazooie was, not by a longshot, but he had started to feel a bit cooped up in the apartment. "Adventure. But first, cuddles."

words [ 379 ]
mood [ tired, but pretty ok ]
outfit [ shirts are dumb ]
tag [ Kazooie ]
notes [ today went by too fast hfdasjkfdlsa ]

[Kazooie]

Kazooie considered the war--it was something she'd never really thought about since their battle, and a particular hiccup in the "escape plan" if she was honest. It was true, she supposed, that the peace was tense at best, but thanks to the five were clans that had taken up London, she had never really felt concerned about the conflict. Of course, she could go to a human stronghold and not have much a problem, but Banjo and the full moon meant that was out of the question. She nuzzled up next to Banjo (his hand still on her right shoulder) and pulled the blankets over her. As always she was careful that her left shoulder wouldn't be rubbed as she scooted into the comfort of a bear hug she hadn't felt in a while.

This, of course, was slightly arousing.
What wasn't, for Kazooie?

"We could go to Australia, or New Orleans, or maybe even San Francisco," she offered. "I know there are packs in Sydney, and San Fran is a haven for the Pluses, who probably aren't all that bad... though I've never met one before." She thought about it a bit more. A big city might not be the best option for getting over the fear of water, and going to a place where witches were everywhere and uncontrolled was not necessarily a good choice either, so New Orleans was actually probably a poor idea. But it gave her such joy to think of all the excitement that occurred there year round. Sure, they'd miss the Mardi Gras season... so maybe not as much of a party city when they were there. And there were hurricanes. "Nevermind. Not New Orleans. But, the point is," she yawned, "that we go SOMEWHERE. Maybe Mumbo Dumbo can find us a safe enough place, though I wouldn't really trust the bonehead. Anyway... I'll put in my leave notice Wednesday."

NOTES ;; ~[she's so short in comparison to him, there's like a foot of difference and that makes cuddling SO CUTE]~
MOOD;; ~[sleepy, but excited for a change in pace.]~
OUTFIT ;; ~[clothes suck]~
TAG ;; ~[Banjo]~
LISTENING TO ;; ~[Cantina Song, Star Wars]~
WORDS ;; ~[~320]~

[Banjo]

"Uh," Banjo started, "I think San Francisco first. Just so we can get acquainted to the new atmosphere. I've met one in my work and they're pretty... chill, I think. Just want rights. Not all that bad." He yawned, then thought about it a little. "I trust that Mumbo can find somewhere that we could go, if we needed his help. I think I'll pop mine in then too." He nodded, yawning again and tightening his arm slightly around Kazooie, holding her just a little closer than he'd done before. "If you want, tomorrow night we can have a going-away... escapade." His nose rubbed against the back of her neck. "We should probably talk to people starting tomorrow, see what we can do. I'm actually pretty fond of this idea. Even though I haven't been in the past. And... you know, I'm kind of looking forward to it. Things have gotten a bit old around here, and I'd like to at least travel a little bit since we haven't really gone anywhere in the last ten years."

He looked up at the ceiling, nodding to steel his resolve. "Yeah. This sounds good for the both of us. Let's get that going, and then... well, we'll see where we go from there. Night, Zooie." With that, Banjo let his eyes close and took a few deep breaths to get himself back to sleep. Feeling Kazooie next to him wasn't familiar, at least it hadn't been for a very long time, but it was soothing to know that she was there with him, someone who had experienced the same things in the same bed with him and able to help if things got too bad for him just like he would if she experienced nightmares.

That was his final thought before he drifted off to sleep.

words [ 304 ]
mood [ asleep ]
outfit [ no shirts ever forever ]
tag [ Kazooie ]
notes [ after kazooie falls asleep we can skip to the next part or call this thread done i'm good either way ]

[Kazooie]

Banjo's breathing soon returned to a slow and steady rise, fall, rise, fall--each breath caressing her neck as they had moved closer--and Kazooie realised that she missed her window of opportunity to speak again. She sighed. It was both comforting and disconcerting at the same time to be here in Banjo's bed again. Sure, she was thankful for what amounted to completely protection against nightmares for the rest of the night, but it meant that a good deal of the work she had done to make herself feel okay again was for naught.

Of course, the bear had also offered a good deal for tomorrow. There was enough context for Kazooie to piece together the Jiggies, so to speak, on the "Going-Away Escapade." There was a nuzzle here, a grip there, and enough inflection to kill any doubt in the bird's mind about what he had intended. She almost felt guilty for how excited she was, but he had been the one to offer.

Still doesn't seem like him, but I don't want to look the gift horse in the mouth. I'll make sure beforehand, and if he's still for it...

This was the one trouble with their friendship. Kazooie was extremely sexual, to the point where everyone she met was sexually attractive in one way or another, and Banjo was... not, really. But at the same time, he was not really not, either, or so he said, and he did feel the urge from time to time. 

I just hope it didn't happen today out of a feeling of necessity.

Goddammit, she was over-thinking it again. She could not have found a better way to kill a moment than her own mental monologue. The concern for consent was important, but she had done nothing to warrant her concern over "pushing it," and those were the facts. She focused on pushing the thoughts out of her head for the next thirty minutes or so, and then the night took her calmly.

There were no more nightmares that morning. 

NOTES ;; ~[Finally wrote it. Sorry it's been about 2 days :\ ]~
MOOD;; ~[asleep]~
OUTFIT ;; ~[nothin but skin]~
TAG ;; ~[Banjo (yay we're done with this thread)]~
LISTENING TO ;; ~[Rain]~
WORDS ;; ~[~340]~