the traveling man | the man on the move

summary [because i jump right into the story with no explanation and it doesn't make a lot of sense so] :: kipling can’t stop running away. he’s been to every place on the map—more than once, and he still continues. there’s nothing left for him to see, there are no ways for him to die. he’s immortal, a traveler, and he can’t stop. but one day he meets avalon. again. but will he be able to stay?

also :: kip is not only immortal, he also lives in a house that’s kinda like the tardis (i don’t actually know what the tardis is but it seemed similar so). the house doesn’t time travel, but it moves location every night so he’s always waking up in a different place

alSO :: inspiration for this story is based off of a short animation that i saw on youtube but don’t remember the name to so disclaimer 

aLSO :: avalon’s nickname is based of ma lil friend avi bc babe

The sky was gold. Clouds unfolded into shining ribbons that stretched across the horizon. Out of all the things that left, only this stayed. Constant; immortal. Kip supposed that was the only thing the earth and him had in common.

__

"Réveillez-vous!” 

Kip rolled over, pulling his arm away from his face and dashing it across his jaw. Sunlight blinked through his blinds, sending creases of light across his chest. He sat up, twisting away from his sheets which wrapped tightly around his ankles, and stumbled to the door. The voice he heard earlier was shouting again, this time joined by a pounding. 

"Réveillez-vous! Wake up!”

The accent sounded slightly slanted, perhaps a little pretentious. Kipling lunged for the door, finally shaking away the last bit of drowsiness from his head. Fingers connected with the handle, he jerked it back. A short man, thin and frowning, peered up at him, pushing a finger into his chest. 

“Bonjour,” he sniffed.

“Bon—uh, hello,” Kip stammered. “Look, I’m sorry if I landed on your roof, or your garage, or your boathouse or something. I really can’t help it.”

The Frenchman looked confused. “Eh? Non, non, you must go.”

Kipling shrugged, pushing past the man and into the street. He was standing in the middle of a market place, rustic cobblestones underneath his feet. The sky was still pink, the sun reaching to hang itself up in the middle of the sky. He sighed, shaking himself as it stretched into a yawn, and hopped back inside. Sweater, keys, backpack—where were his shoes? Kipling ducked under the bed and pulled them out. Then, passing the man at his door again, he stepped back into the street. Gesturing back to his house, he nodded apologetically. 

“It’ll be gone in a couple hours. So sorry about that. I really can’t help it.”

__

Kip peered blurrily across his pillow and stretched, rolling onto his back. No ‘good morning’ from a Frenchman today. Well, that was alright. It was better to be woken up by silence than from a woman screaming that he had planted his house in her birdbath. Hunching forward in bed, Kip rested a hand on his chin and scratched at the week-old stubble. Time to trim it again. But first, coffee. Then, maybe, he’d explore his new home-for-the-day. Or perhaps just read a book. Mug in hand, Kip tried to pull a white shirt over his head. It caught on his ear, and then came free with such a jerk that a dark stain slowly spread across the front from his cup. Kip growled, dabbing at it with a rag as he made for the door. It opened with a fierce shove—he’d have to fix that, too. The first thought that came to mind as he glanced outside was ‘cold'. He’d need a sweater. Then he noticed the black gulls flying overhead, the spray caught up by the wind as waves thundered against the rocks. His house was perched on a rocky cliff at the edge of a coast. Flat beds of stone provided a neat staircase down to the water, where a handful of scarlet starfish were clinging desperately to each rock, trying to keep themselves from being pulled back into the ocean. The sky was shrouded by mist. East coast? Kip thought. Perhaps someplace like Massachusetts, maybe Nova Scotia? He blinked the dust from his eyes, leaning heavily against the doorframe. What did it matter—the places were all blurring together anyway, he had seen them all before. Yes, maybe he would just stay inside today. There were no people to watch, just a couple of sea creatures and gulls. Better to stay inside.

__

The sky was blue, cheery. The landscape was familiar, again, but this time less foreboding. Kip felt a worn-out smile tug at his mouth. This place he remembered all to well. He sighed and turned away from the window. Kip reached his closet, dragging the old-century doors open to let a scattering of mothballs, bowler hats, coattails, and a bomber jacket drop out. He shuddered as he picked up the tails, thankful he would never have to wear these again. They were so last-century. Dragging a flannel jacket over his shirt, he flung a tuque over his ruffled hair and straightened his shoulders. He wanted to see people today, so he might as well put in a little effort. Rubbing a hand over his jaw, he wished he would have shaven it earlier. The front door no longer creaked as it opened, but the porch sagged as he stepped out.

Vancouver.

Home.

“Tell him it’s Kipling, he’ll see me.”

The foreman frowned, spitting out a spray of cigarette ash.

“Wait here,” he muttered, turning into the office.

A moment later a broad-shouldered man barrelled out of the building.

“Kip!” he bellowed, crushing him in a hug. 

Kip chuckled, pulling free. “Darrell, it’s good to see you.”

The big man nodded, slapping a hand onto Kip’s shoulder.

“Are you here to stay? Just passing through? There’s always work if ya need it.”

“I do,” Kip nodded. “But I’m just here for the day.”

“The Lady Victoria could use some help, I hear,” Darrell bobbed his head. “But it’s’a real shame, son, a real shame. Wish ya could’a stayed longer.”

Kip shrugged, flashing a grin. “Thanks. See you around.”

The captain of the Lady Victoria grunted and tossed Kip a knife. 

“Fish need skinnin’,” he growled.

Kip nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

It was a hard job, and cold. Kip’s fingers turned numb so that he could hardly grip the knife. But still he worked, slitting, skinning, and piling the fish. Finally the captain passed by, doing a double-take when he saw him.

“What—you still here, boy?” he growled. “Go on, get yourself som’n to eat.”

Kip nodded gratefully and straightened. Instinct led his shivering body to Mike’s Diner. Hunger led him to order the biggest burger on the menu. And shock led him to reply with a yes when the woman asked him if she could use the chairs across from him for her and her son.

“I’m Hachi,” the boy piped, crawling into the chair. He pulled the red tuque from his head, revealing a mop of black curls. He was about four, Kipling guessed. Four would make sense. He nodded, still reeling from surprise, and smiled, glancing nervously at the woman across from him. She leaned over to place her purse on the floor, straightening to smile directly at him.

“I’m Avalon,” she said brightly, shrugging off her coat. Then, turning to the boy, she tugged off his as well. “Hachi, sit still.”

Hachi refused, jumping to his feet on the chair and leaning his body over the table.

“Do you wanna see sum’tin cool?” he begged, a freckle dancing on his chin.

“Sure,” Kip shrugged, putting down his coffee.

“Look!” Hachi ruffled through his pocket, dragging out a scrap of paper. He laid it out on the table, flattening it as best he could. “I’s a map!”

“Hachi,” Avalon murmured warningly. “Don’t bother the man.”

“It’s alright,” Kip assured, hand in the air. “I don’t mind kids.”

She smiled again, warmer now, before Hachi bumped himself between them.
“Do you know why i’s a map?” he demanded, offering the answer before Kip could respond. “’S ‘cause I’m an explorer. I’m gonna travel the whole world and find lots of new things so I’ll be famous.”

Kip smiled, leaning forward and crossing his arms. “There’s not a whole lot of the world that needs exploring still, little man.”

“That’s okay,” the boy replied. “I’ll find sumt’in.” He glanced curiously through his curls at Kip. “But how d’you know? You seen the whole world?”

“He could have just looked it up,” Avalon said gently, pulling Hachi back into his seat.

“I didn’t though,” Kip shrugged, leaning back and hunching over his mug. 

“So you travelled the whole world?” Hachi demanded, jumping forward from his mother.

“If I go to Spain once more, I’ll have done it four times.”

Avalon laughed, arms reaching above her head to fix her ponytail.

“The whole world!” Hachi exclaimed.

“The whole thing,” Kip chuckled, turning the little map so that it faced him. “And it’s a lot bigger than this.”

“Have you seen croc’diles?”

“Yes, and man-eating snakes. I’ve even seen an avalanche.”

“Mum says av’lanches can kill people.” 

Kip nodded. “They can. But it’s pretty hard to get rid of me, trust me.”

“Have you ever found treasure? That’s what explors' do.”

“Once,” Kip nodded. “But probably not the kind of treasure you’re thinking of.”

Avalon caught her breath and looked at him sharply, her arms dropping. Kip stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back from the table so fast it toppled over. 

“I should go,” he muttered. “Have a good one, little man.” He reached over to ruffle Hachi’s curls before grabbing his pack and turning to leave.

“Wait a moment,” Avalon breathed. “You never told us your name.”

Kip hesitated, his back to them. His mouth twisted in a rueful smile as he spun back.

“It’s me, Avi,” he said softly.

Shock, then anger chased each other across Avalon’s face. Then both were driven away by a new expression—one Kip couldn’t quite place. She staggered to her feet, leaning on the table, tripping over her purse to stand in front of him. She smiled, but it wiped away, her mouth slightly parted in a silent gasp. Kipling stayed frozen, not daring to move, as she reached up to cup his cheek.

“Kip?”

yup. sweet. sudden endings are my specialty yo. but i might write a sequel to this if i feel like it, idk