intangiblekit-blog - Tumblr blog

[intangiblekit-blog]

Kit blinked himself out of thought to find a giant standing in front of him with a gobsmacked expression and talking in shattered sentences. Taking another long blink, Kit parsed through the half-spoken syllables and slowly came to the realization that he was the reason the giant was mentally incapable of speech.

“Oh! Hah--whoops.”

Finishing his path through the wall, he grinned at the giant and took a moment to double-check all his limbs were in place. An unnecessary precaution, considering he wasn’t screaming in pain, but it never hurt to check.

“Would you believe that’s the third time I’ve done that this week?”

Ray had a tendency to get caught up in his work. The kind of caught up where he’d forget to eat or sleep or, well, pretty much do anything but work. That said, even HE wasn’t focused enough to not notice the human being come THROUGH HIS WALL.

      “ Holy shi—–Who…and how? ”

[intangiblekit-blog]

@atcmized

Kit was used to walking through walls, and whatever solid object was in his way, when he was lost in his thoughts. Reading the latest report, he slipped through the hallways, until a particular part of the report caught his attention and he stopped--with half of his body still in the wall.

[intangiblekit-blog]

@atcmized

“Now, be honest, are the big hands and the little feet telling me the story I want to hear--or are you stuck.”

[intangiblekit-blog]

“Is that how it works? That’s kind of cool.”

Kit had heard all of the ‘science’ behind it, but no matter how much the scientists tried to break it down into syllables and equations--Kit could phase through solid objects. That was it.

“I always thought it was magic.”

“Tickled? Having all my atomic bonds temporarily unbonded and fused with inanimate objects, is more like it.”

Yeah, that’s right, he paid attention in the sciences. Not just an art historian after all. 

[intangiblekit-blog]

Kit had lost track of how many days he was stuck over there, slipping from this world to the next trying to find his way back to the one he’d been taken from. After about the second month, he just stopped keeping track--it was hard enough surviving over there, with only his wits and a backpack of goodies he cultivated over the days. Survival had taken precedence over everything else--and he’d been rewarded. He’d made it back. He’d recognize that garish tower anywhere, Big Ben’s clock shining over him as Kit took his first deep breath of smoggy London air in what felt like years.

He should’ve expected the agents to come screaming around the bend, shouting with their guns and their orders, but he was still so relieved to be home that he followed every word they said. Falling to his knees, and lying on his face with the other group of nomads Kit had found and buried himself into in the last world he’d visited. They’d taught him a few useful tips, and been caught in the crossfire when he’d headed towards the first anomaly he’d found in weeks. He didn’t regret bringing them along, London was a much better place than the world they’d come from. Give them time and they’d acclimate, and Kit could finally breathe. The only thing that would make this all better...he would just have to wait and find later.

Tears of excitement and exhaustion littered the ground beneath his face, as the shouting around him grew, until only one voice rose above the rest.

“Pete?”

Kit was on his feet and running to the familiar flop of black hair, ignoring his own looks and the angry men around him, to throw himself into his boyfriend’s arms for the first time in far too long. Kit clung to his form, taking in the familiar scent and feel of Pete in his arms, and let himself finally feel as if he was safe and home.

intangiblekit​

Months. Months he’d been chasing down these damn dimensional rifts. Months he’d spent kindling the dying hope that maybe Kit would be on the other end. So far, nothing but dead ends and creatures determined to complicate his life. Extra-dimensional tourists, mostly, but there were some others with less amicable intentions. 

This last one, for instance. Bunch of bloody anarchists, this, and MI-13 hadn’t seen fit to send anyone but Wisdom. It suited him fine, but he was damn near passed out on his feet when the time came to start cleaning up the mess. Civilians that needed a healthy dose of preventative brainwashing and bodies that needed disposing of. Mostly alien, some civilian, and one that caught his eye. That one, clad in a secondhand modge-podge of colours and fabrics with dark hair that was too long and—

He moved in closer, shooing suits and workers until he was close enough to see the faint rise and fall of breath along the man’s back.

“Bloody hell…Kit?”   

[intangiblekit-blog]

Rolling his eyes, Kit reached across to grab one of the man’s flailing hands and shoved it into the wood of the desk, and through.

“It’s not that bad. Stop freaking out. It’s kind of like being tickled--constantly.”

“Bloody hell.”

It was hard to watch. He was just waiting for the music to turn all dramatic and the wall to seal up with Kit halfway in and halfway out. 

“You’ll get stuck that way if your’e not careful. I’ve seen it before, in a film.” 

Which, of course, was a splendid basis for reality. 

[intangiblekit-blog]

Snorting softly, Kit pulled his hand free and wiggled them in the direction of the awkward Brit.

“I can make you do it too--if you’d like.”

Kit was used to the strange looks he got, slipping through walls, and absentmindedly sticking his head through doors before entering a room, and as much as he liked to pretend it didn’t bother him--he was sure it would never stop.

“Yes. Yes, exactly like that.”

Honestly, he wasn’t sure what Pete saw in him. His personality was ace and all, but that bloody wall-walking … odd.

[intangiblekit-blog]

“What--like this?” 

With a grin, Kit was shoving his hand through the nearest solid object, just to see the other man’s reaction.

                          intangiblekit

“I’m not gonna lie to you; it still gives me the willies  when you do that whole ‘phase through the wall’ thing.”

[intangiblekit-blog]

Kit really, really wanted to be anywhere but here. He really wanted to be where Pete was, no doubt in his apartment, a bottle or two in, and wallowing in a sense of grief and duty that would make even the strongest men shrivel in fear. Pete was one of the strongest men he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting, but even strong men had their moments of weakness. It didn’t make them less, but it made Kit want to wrap him up and keep him safe from all of the monsters out there intent on ripping him apart. Even himself.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m here.”

Digging the heel of his palm into his forehead, he forced himself to stay still and not hurl himself down the nearest hallway to steal a Quinjet, because that wasn’t going to help anything. (But it was definitely staying on the table.)

“Pete, hey--if I know you, you’re focused on the bad parts of what you went through.” Kit himself had gone through enough shit to know how hard it was to see past it, but sometimes--you just had to forget about it to make it to the next day. “But what about the good you did? Think about--think about the people you saved, and the lives you kept whole. Focus on those things, and my voice, okay? Just think about that and--and things’ll get better.”

But he should apologize. He shouldn’t have called Kit like this; there was nothing he could do except worry, and it seemed from the sound of his voice that he was doing more than enough of that. It wasn’t fair to him, and Pete felt the overwhelming urge to just take it all back and hang up the phone. Then he’d only worry more.

“ I just needed to hear you… “

He didn’t want to tell Kit about the things he’d seen. Part of him wanted to protect Kit—he wouldn’t inflict this on anyone, certainly not the man he loved—but another part of him hoped maybe if he didn’t talk about it, then maybe he could just get it out of his head.

It had done sod all for him so far.

“ God…Kit…it was just…bloody hell… ”

[intangiblekit-blog]

✉

[New message: stardork] : IF YOU FIND A SPACE NARWHAL I DEMAND CUSTOD-- [Unsent][New message: stardork] : What sorts or religions have you found up there? Do they believe in Go--    [Unsent][New message: stardork] : CAN I TRY OUT YOUR GRAV BOOT--    [Unsent][New message: stardork] : So can’t sleep and I just...    [Unsent][New message: stardork] : I miss yo--    [Unsent] 

[New message: stardork] : This pic I found of you on the wirld wide webis classic. Who knew you looked so good with pink hair.     [Sent] 

[intangiblekit-blog]

“You did that?” Kit looked back the way he’d come at the way the streets had scattered much faster than he was used to, and couldn’t help but feel impressed. “That’s awesome.” Skipping ahead, he watched the action take place across the street, the few X-Men that had appeared handling the bulk of the fighting, and as much as he wanted to join--he had to help these people first. “Think you can lead them to the bank on Third? It’s got a strong enough facility it should handle the onslaught of the latest baddie’s temper tantrum.”

“One, it doesn’t sound strange. Two, if anything, it sounds like I’m getting kidnapped. Something just went down and I already sent most people on their way.” She replied, though turning to start walking along. “Where to? And by that, I mean, where do I lead the rest of the people?” The question came out as naturally as possible as she doubted he’d ask her anything. 

[intangiblekit-blog]

Pete was not alright. Pete was so not alright.

Kit hadn’t been paying attention before, too many hours working on too many boring things, but now that he did, it only took one syllable for him to know Pete was definitely not alright.

And possibly drunk--a terrible combination.

“Pete, babe, never apologize for calling me, okay?” Kit didn’t want to be here, he wasn’t to be over there with Pete, and not for the first time, he wished there was a way they could be on the same continent for more than a week or two at a time. “Just--can you tell me what happened? Or--I can keep talking. Tell me what you need and-and I can do it. Whatever you need.”

He could hear the panic in Kit’s voice, could practically see him scrambling about like some sort of madman as he strung together some long, near-unintelligible collage of facts and questions and, shit, Pete was too drunk to follow half of it.

Great bloody job, Pete…

“ Kit. Christ, Kit, I’m not—I’m alright. “

Or, at least, more alright than Kit seemed to think. No broken bones or life-threatening wounds. He wasn’t holed up somewhere waiting for somebody with a grudge and a bullet with his name on it. His life wasn’t in danger. He was just…he was hurting, and he was alone, and he was very, very drunk. Guilty and embarrassed were starting to make an appearance on that list too, since, in his drunken bout of self-indulgence, he’d apparently managed to give his boyfriend a near heart attack. So he drew in a sharp breath and willed those traitorous sobs to just stop.

“ Shite…sorry. Shouldn’t have called you like this I just…” Another breath, this time accompanied by a hand scrubbing through his disheveled hair. His voice wouldn’t even out, wavering and breaking as he spoke. “Just had a rough week. “

[intangiblekit-blog]

“Colors? Colors, I can do.”

Embarrassed as he was, Kit wasn’t one to dwell when he’d made a fool of himself, considering he did it so often. It was easier to just move passed it and make sure he didn’t make the mistake again. 

“Okay, so subways. Drab, disgusting places, if I could avoid them, I would, but unfortunately they’re faster, and cheaper, than cabs, and the company I’m working for doesn’t believe in lending out cars to people they feel are ‘reckless’, their word--not mine. But as gross as they are, they have some life--like the people. There’s a woman, at the other end of the car with us, who has the prettiest skin, it almost looks like the night sky, and then she covers it with bright dashes of pinks, and yellows, and reds, which only brings out the beauty in her smile. A guy, two to your left and across--plaid, right? Boring, lumberjack, but he’s amped it up with some silver threads that catch the light and his beard is definitely something to behold.”

       Matt was used to strangers mistaking his sunglasses for regular, well,        sunglasses. No one really knew about his capabilities, about how he        had his own perception of the world and his surroundings. No one needed        to know. With a quiet chuckle, he responded.

             ❛ IT’S FINE, don’t worry about it. I’m from Manhattan.                 You could keep describing them to me, if you want.                 Easier to picture them that way. Tell me more about the                 colours. ❜

[intangiblekit-blog]

ofshxeld

“Okay, lovely as this is, these things are getting really heavy, so could you tell me where they go before my arms fall off? What do we even have file boxes for, that’s so archaic, and I’m going to have to have a talk with you guys about upgrading to digital.”

[intangiblekit-blog]

send me a '✉' for five times my muse didn't text yours, and one time they did.

[intangiblekit-blog]

Icebreaker starters!

"Are you alright?"

"Can you open this for me?"

"Where am I?"

"Who are you?"

"It's freezing out here!"

"Can you show me where the nearest store is?"

"Have you seen my pet anywhere?"

"How did you find me?"

"Can I hide here for a few minutes?"

"What are you making?"

"Help! Someone help me!"

"I'm lost..."

"That smells delicious!"

"I can't do this!"

"I think this is your mail."

"Is that mine? I've been looking everywhere for this!"

"Run!"

"That was close..."

"How did you find this place?"

"Is this yours?"

"I think you dropped this."

"I've been robbed!"

"Thank you so much!"

"Is this your home?"

"Step into the light, so I can see you..."

"It's dark in here!"

"It's so hot outside!"

"Is that fire?"

"Happy Unbirthday!"

"What's that?"

"Why am I here?"

"Can you help me find something?"

[intangiblekit-blog]

Okay, Kit got a laugh, that’s what he’d been aiming for. It was off, too dry around the edges to be really full of mirth but it was better than nothing. Better than the silence that followed--heavy and full of thinking, making Kit want to do nothing more than reach through  the phone and touch Pete to see if he was okay. Kit could do many of things, but apparently, God didn’t want him to have that little trick in his party book and it was really starting to suck.

Especially when the broken sound of a sob cut through the white noise of the phone pressed to his ear. Heart clenched in his chest, Kit was up and seconds from racing from the room, despite having no idea what was going on, or how to help. Plastic digging into his skin, he shut down the rest of his computer and gathered all of his things, intent on heading back to his crappy apartment, (crappy mostly because it didn’t have an ornery Brit attached) because this didn’t seem like a story with a happy ending.

“Pete, oh god, hey Pete, listen to my voice, okay? Can you tell me what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Please, God, don’t let him be hurt when I’m an ocean away from him. “Look, babe. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, but if you don’t want to talk I totally understand that, just grunt once for yes and two for no and I won’t have a panic attack thinking you’re calling me for one of those ‘last phone conversations’ thing. Did you know Stark did that for Pepper when he took that big bomb up into another dimension? Yeah, I know.”

Kit was rambling, but it was better than the absence of anything, and might keep Pete from hanging up, giving him something to latch onto that wasn’t--what was upsetting him.

“If this is one of those ‘last calls’ I’m going to raise your ass from the dead and kick it, okay? You don’t think I can do that, but I so can. I’ve been practicing my mojo, and I can do anything now, you just name it.”

That might’ve been a laugh at Kit’s outlandish story, but it was so dry, so hollow, that it damn near rattled in his chest. He tried to picture it in his head, something fluffy and cute and completely out of place even among a host of things that were, by their nature, out of place.

Then he thought of Mary and the puppies on the backpack they’d found just feet away from her. Would she have liked poodles? Maybe something bigger, or maybe it was just a gift, and she liked kittens better. Try as he might to rein it back in, his mind kept going back to that little girl and her cliched pigtails and pink dress. Not pink—red. Too much red.

He didn’t realize he’d started crying until the first choked sob broke from his chest.