middaeg | fellas is it gay if you can magically read your best bros thoughts (OPEN)

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fellas is it gay if you can magically read your best bros thoughts (OPEN)

Who: Rich and others
When: Morning and noonish, November 15
Where: Jeremy, Rich, and Michael's home
What: Rich and Jeremy's Bonding ceremony and celebration
Warnings: none

i. Bonding (Closed)

[Jeremy shows up at Rich's door bright and early the next morning. Despite how Rich claimed that suits weren't required, Jeremy still put together the nicest-looking thing in his wardrobe. His hair is slicked back, his skin is clearer than usual (where did he find concealer?), and he's used up a good chunk of his precious deodorant that he brought with him through the mirror.

The SQUIP had a lot of drawbacks, being an evil mind-controlling robot and all, but it taught Jeremy a valuable lesson: Jeremy cleans up good.

When Rich opens the door, Jeremy's waiting expectantly, hands behind his back and bouncing on his toes. It's clear that he's been there a while.]

You ready to go?

ii. Announcement (Open)

[To announce their Bond and to celebrate, Rich and Jeremy have opened the house up for any and everyone who wants to check it out--both quietly not mentioning how empty the space seems with Justine's recent disappearance. At Rich's suggestion, they've sent an open invitation out on the watch network to anyone who wants to drop by and offer congratulations.

Their budget isn't huge, but Jeremy's insistence on hospitality means that they've got enough finger food and drinks for people to try out. There's no alcohol.

Jeremy's still nervous even though the deed is done, so he's bustling around constantly to make sure that everything is perfectly neat, that they've got enough seats, and that nobody needs a refill. In his rush, bringing a hot tray of cookies from the oven straight onto a serving tray, he bumps into you. As he turns around to see who he's plowed over, he rushes to apologize. The niceties run into themselves before he even sees your face.]

Shoot--I'm sorry--thanks for coming!

iii. Wildcard (Open)

[Jeremy and Rich are both available to talk about their new bond with your character. Let me know if you want a specific situation!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[A few cuts are a small price for Myr to pay if it helps. And it does, at least, seem to be helping--

Myr shifts how he's kneeling, letting Rich hold to his one hand as much as he needs while trying to get them arranged a little more comfortably, dragon tucked up against faun. It is, inevitably, awkward and improvised as all these things are, but Myr tries to make as little of it as he can, settling in to rub at Rich's back with his palm.

His level, quiet tone hardly changes, but there's no mistaking a thread of relief in his voice that Rich is--a little better, at least. Not out of the crisis, not by a long shot, but not in the worst choking part of it any longer.]

I know. You've been hurt so long and you've worked so hard, so hard at this. You've been very brave through so much. It's all right you've come to the end of your strength. It is.

[Maker, help me make it be all right for him.

Knowing it matters less by now the exact content of what he's saying and more that he's present, and calm, Myr slips from murmuring into humming.]

[Rich is lost enough that he doesn't object to being shifted around, so long as he has Myr's hand to clutch to as a life preserver. He ends up mostly in Myr's lap, coughing and sniffling childishly.

They aren't at the end of this at all. With Rich reaching the end of his patience and strength, Myr will certainly have a lot to do to offer a decent explanation for his Bond with Linden, his plans if things go awry, if Linden tries to twist things around, if the Bond makes Myr more willing to excuse what's been done to deepen the scars Rich already had. Rich will certainly still be upset, likely untrusting, likely less willing to give Myr a chance when from his position, giving chances only means an opportunity to hurt even deeper.

But maybe that can at least wait until Rich wakes up, as his quiet crying eventually fades into soft breathing.]

Where will you go, little one,
Lost to me in sleep?
Seek truth in a forgotten land
Deep within your heart.

Never fear, little one,
Wherever you shall go
Follow my voice.
I will call you home,
I will call you home.

---

[It's the beginning and not the end of a very hard road, Myr knows, when Rich falls asleep in his arms. He'd thought--naively, childishly--he only had one of those ahead of him and that to walk with L, but it's never the way of the world that problems come singly and cleanly divorced from all their consequences. Choosing to save L instead of walk away and let him immolate himself--and anyone else he'd take down with him--was, as Rich had observed, no neutral act; it makes Myr part-culpable in anything L does from this moment on.

You are responsible for the lives you save.

Where that saved life meant a risk of future harm to someone who had already suffered so much, someone who Myr half-thinks of as an apprentice under his care and charge, the responsibility weighs all the more heavily on his shoulders. Maintaining friendships with two people who couldn't stand each other was already a tightrope walk, and the stakes here are much, much higher than that.

He wonders if he's sufficient to it. He wonders if the Maker can even hear all his pleading for help to bear up under the weight.

He has, at least, sometime to think that through forward and back, as he sits there before the fire with Rich on his lap and the younger man's hand held tightly in his. He's far enough lost in that he scarcely notices the way it gets colder as the fire burns down, or the discomfort of a leg slowly falling asleep, or...much of anything, really, except the fragile precious peace of the boy resting against him. Mage that he is, Myr expects nightmares to follow on an upset like that; for all his ruminating, he's keenly attuned to any change in Rich's condition--the least alteration in the rhythm of his breath, a shift of limbs that seems more deliberate than unconscious.

The faun's quick to snap to full alertness then, though he keeps his voice low,]

Rich?

Edited (added more v important maundering) 2019-12-17 18:10 (UTC)

[Rich sleeps heavily for a while, too exhausted for even his subconscious to manage anything too strenuous for Rich to think about. Eventually, though, the nightmares come as they often do, with the stench of burnt flesh, with a voice in his ear that is familiar and yet not.

His usual mess of jumbled memories about the Halloween party get blended together with recent ones in extremely unpleasant ways, the gasoline bizarrely having ice cubes floating in it, his mother's voice being layered with echoed insults from two men. It's when he backs against the garage door, trying to escape the heat and his own decisions, and he hears a monstrous growling that he finally jerks awake with a soft cry.

His breath is quick for a moment as he tries to register where he is, eyes fixed down at his hand joined with Myr's, while the other runs at his stained cheeks. His chest hurts and he looks down, swears at the blood and torn up shirt, before looking at his held hand with a little more clarity.]

...Myr?

[His voice is hoarse, and he attempts to clear it, while twisting around to look at the faun.]

...you're still here.

[The hand curled around Rich's is spotted with dried blood, stark against the white fur. And yet it really doesn't bother Myr all that much--not enough for him to have let go.]

I'm still here, [he affirms.] And you're awake. How are you feeling?

Miserable.

[He might as well be honest. He's sure by now, Myr has heard more than enough to know if Rich was lying. He shifts back away from Mye, taking his hand away to hug his knees up to his chest.]

...'m sorry about your hand.

It'll mend, never fear. [Much more easily than Rich's emotional state. Myr's hardly surprised by miserable, taking the answer with a certain equanimity.

He pulls his hand back and flexes it to check the depth of the wounds. Murmuring, as he does,] I'm not surprised, sweeting; you'd a lot fall in on you.

I am sorry. [A breath.] Shall we get those wounds cleaned up? And then--we ought to talk.

Or perhaps I ought to just listen, as you do.

Edited 2019-12-19 05:38 (UTC)

... I guess we have stuff in the bathroom. Bandages and that.

[Rich slowly gets up to his feet, trying to be careful and not agitate his cuts too badly as he watches for Myr to stand and then slowly heads over to the stairs.

He doesn't say anything about the idea of talking, not yet, but it's easy to tell from his expression and uncharacteristic silence that he can't think of a worse idea. To him, decisions have already been made, and now, as usual, Rich is just forced to go along with them. It's what his dad and teachers expected, it's what the SQUIP expected... he's supposed to do the same with Myr.

But that's fine. Hopeless and helpless are certainly not new feelings for Rich.]

Lead on, then. [Myr will follow; he's an inkling, from being in a few of them, the cottages are more or less alike and what he knew of navigating one might apply to the others--but assuming as much would no doubt get him rapidly into trouble.

So he follows, trailing fingers along the nearest wall and swallowing down his own uncertainty at the future. It's a glass-fragile situation, apt to shatter; Myr's willingness to try is no substitute, he knows, for experience in these sorts of things. But he can't not try, he can't not listen... Even if he might hear it's better he stay away.

He dearly hopes not; Rich can ill-afford to lose friends. (But L can ill-afford to remain unBonded.)

All that maundering's put away as they reach the bathroom. Myr halts as his fingers catch on the doorframe.]

I don't know how much use I'll be, [he won't be dishonest and pretend the first-aid skills he'd learned while sighted won't be difficult to use now he's blind,] but if you'd like--I do know something of dressing wounds.

[It's hard to tell what Rich feels. He knows as well as Myr does that it's bad for him to lose friends at this moment in time... but he also knows it's a bad idea for him to remain around people that make excuses for the people who seem determined to hurt him. It's why he's struggled so much with Connor, and he would very much hate for his relationship with Myr to end up the same way.

But it's also hard for him to think Myr is that far gone. He's sensible, and able to understand what Rich has been through... that has to be enough. Rich has to have hope that he can actually convince someone to listen to him.

He busies himself with grabbing supplies for a few moments, obviously a bit lost in thought. It takes him a few moments to even acknowledge Myr has spoken, but when he does, he just shakes his head.]

I'm fine. [He's picked up enough to look after himself since he came here, from watching others bandage his wounds. He's not sure how well he can do it himself either... but he feels wary around Myr, remembering the last time he injured himself in a panic. It... doesn't bode well for this upcoming conversation.]

...Do you need help with your hands?

If you've something I can clean them with, that should do. [Monsters did heal faster than Witches--or elves--and it's something Myr's had reason to be grateful of; if the injuries weren't puncture wounds, he'd even be inclined to simply let them be to mend on their own. But these need to be bled against wound rot, and it would be better if he didn't leave blood all over Rich's house in the doing.

Speaking of--his tone takes on a wan humor:] I'm afraid I might've gotten blood on your wall back there.

[This is...still not getting anywhere near the heart of what they need to discuss, but truth be told Myr's still hedging around that one, uncertain as yet of his own strategy for it.

...All right, he's afraid. May as well admit as much. The stakes are high enough to warrant fear for Rich's sake, even if Myr can't allow that to paralyze him.

Time to step off into the dark again. Second time today--]

Might I, [slowly, carefully,] take a guess at the fear eating you?

I have a bit of peroxide in this...

[He holds out a bottle of alcohol for Myr, though he still finds it hard to even look in his direction. At this point, he's starting to wonder if maybe it would be best to just clean their wounds and then send Myr home, cut his losses before Rich has time to register the heartbreak of it.

Unfortunately, Myr doesn't seem to be interested in the easy way out. Rich visibly flinches, but slowly releases a long, mildly agitated sigh.]

You can if you want. Not that knowing anything is going to fix it.

Edited 2019-12-27 01:53 (UTC)

[Far be it from Myr to ever be interested in the easy way out. If he's not taking the hardest path for the sake of sheer stubbornness alone, it's because he feels--in some way--he deserves whatever pain's attendant on the undertaking. (As he does now.)

He's not sure what peroxide is, and the bottle he reaches fumblingly for--guessing at where Rich has got it--doesn't smell like anything astringent enough to clean a wound. He'll give it a try in faith anyway, pouring a little of the oddly cold liquid into his cupped palm and hissing surprise at how it stings. That means it's working, right? That and the faintly alarming scent of a lightning strike it leaves behind.]

On the contrary--there's a lot knowing can do, I think. [A little more of the peroxide stuff in his hand before he offers the bottle back to Rich, not knowing where he might set it down.]

You're afraid I'm going to come out as Linden's advocate against you. That--as I'm Bonded to him, and obviously partial--I've got to take his side in everything as well, even if it means crushing out your complaints and expecting you to be meekly silent about all of it.

[Rich takes the bottle, and nearly drops it when Myr speaks up, partly in surprise, partly in disbelief. There's a part of him that does think that is what he's afraid of... that he's been so worried that Myr has made his choice about which one is more important, and is going to leave him behind...

Still, there's a part that's slightly louder, that's almost appalled that that's what Myr has decided is the issue. That's the part that wins out, letting frustration seep into Rich's tone.]

You're stupid if you think that's what it comes down to. But I guess you were the idiot who bonded to that asshole in the first place. No. If his is the side you're going to end up, I don't really care. Connor made his choice. I'm pissed at him, but it's his own fucking funeral. You've made your choice too... so I don't care anymore.

Then what does it come down to? [Myr replies, patiently, as he rubs his hands dry against each other.] Because it seems me you're concerned that you're not being heard about what kind of beast he is, that I'm choosing him because I don't value you or what you've got to say.

I don't know, basic fucking safety? Not having someone I trusted Bonded to the SQUIP's partner? Maybe not getting betrayed for once in my life by someone who I thought would look out for me?

But hey, when you come down to it, I guess you're right all along. Because if you'd bother listening to me, you would have known that's what I needed!

[Despite his earlier exhaustion, Rich can feel callous anger coming back with a vengeance, determined to make Myr admit which side he's on.]

Wanna play another listening game? Here's something to listen to: I asked you to leave.

You did ask me to leave. [And here he is, who ordinarily prides himself on being so polite, not doing that at all. Myr cants his head to one side, almost birdlike, as if he could study Rich with the eyes he doesn't have any longer.] But I'm not, because I won't see you drive off everyone who loves you out of some mistaken sense you don't deserve us.

[This...is not going to work if they get into another spiraling argument where each presents his best facts on why the other's wrong. Myr bites his tongue before he can go there, lifting his hands briefly to his face and forcing composure with each breath. In, out. In, out...]

You're right, [he says, after a moment. There's nothing grudging in it.] That I haven't been listening, though. How is it you're afraid this will end?

It's not a mistake. Even if you wanna play that game and claim I'm better than I am, does that mean I really deserve to be treated like this?

[He almost moves a hand up to card through his hair before noting his talons. Best to avoid that while he's still so wound up.]

You're still not listening because this already ended. You fucking betrayed me, and I'm done. You can go hang out with someone who wants to see me suffer until you realize I'm just getting what's coming to me. And I'll finally be free of your fake ass concern and condescending.

[Rich looks away then, expecting the conversation to be over. He trusts Myr can find his way to the door.]

[Myr catches his breath in a sharp inhalation, teetering a moment on simply agreeing and storming away to nurse his own hurt feelings because that isn't true, it isn't fair... And none of that has any bearing on why Rich is saying it.

Myr's not any better than his Bonded at conceding a defeat when it matters; his win conditions simply include everyone he cares about.

He breathes out in a helpless, humorless laugh; none of this is funny, but his reflex to laugh in the face of his own helplessness is graven deep. Black humor like that was a lifesaver in a Circle.]

You're right, sweeting, [he says, offering up his wounded hands in a gesture of concession,] I really am the Maker's own idiot. I can't even get being a false friend right and that's supposed to come naturally to men.

[He drops his hands, voice shrinking to a murmur,] Though I s'pose it would be easier if you didn't both expect me to abandon you.

[Why did they have to be so heartbreakingly alike?]

If both of us expect you to, what's stopping you from making a choice? One or the other. That's the way it works now, especially after the SQUIP. So you can stop pretending you can make this work.

[It stings a bit, to admit out loud that Linden is thinking the same thing Rich is. He doesn't want to admit they have anything in common, doesn't want to see his tormentor as someone with weaknesses and fears.

Especially when Linden refuses to acknowledge Rich's own issues as anything other than something to exploit.

He winces softly, folds his knees up to his chest again as his voice comes out with a traitorous quiver.]

Can you please just get this over with? I'm tired of waiting for it to happen. Please just go. It's what we both want anyways.

[Instinctively, Myr hunkers down, reaching a cautious hand toward the sound of Rich's voice where it's gone small and uncertain. How could he just leave in the face of that? How could anyone think he would?

Rich's mention of the SQUIP sparks memory, makes stark just how rapidly Myr and L's positions have been reversed. It is a heartbreaking, artistic irony that hurts too much right now for Myr to appreciate as anything but more punishment.

Except where L had only untried promises to vouchsafe as assurance against the SQUIP's turning monstrous, Myr had proven his conviction in deed and blood.]

I nearly killed him once for your sake. [Bleakly said, but without regret that they'd saved so many from a demon.] Do you not trust I'd do it again, did I truly think he wanted you to suffer?

[He was wrong, earlier: He hadn't refused the choice Rich saw as inevitable.

He'd already made it on his own terms.

The worst part of it was that L had understood and not turned him aside for it.]

[Rich's breath hitches for a moment, confusion and shock clear on his face that Myr still unfortunately cannot view. He huddles a little tighter on himself, his voice hesitant, but maybe hopeful.]

I... thought you changed your mind. I just thought you decided he hadn't deserved anything that happened back then. Which... I mean, I don't even know if I think he does but...

I thought you regretted looking out for me.

[He shivers softly, a chill running through him as he struggles to put together how he feels about Linden. There's a lot he could say about everything he understands and doesn't understand about Linden's journey with the SQUIP, how familiar and how foreign it was, and how his actions now have left Rich torn between his stubborn belief in second chances and his impulse to toss aside what burned him, his self preservation and self destruction warring every time he sees Linden again.]

...I gave him more chances and he still wanted me to suffer. SQUIP or not. What if... he wants the same for you?

[It's all he can manage.]

[Myr slides down to sitting on the floor, knees tucked against him to be out of Rich's way. Have they turned a corner? He can't be sure, but hearing something like hope again in Rich's voice has made him weak-kneed with relief.]

Never. I'd never regret helping you. [He makes a small, troubled noise in the back of his throat--hearing that I don't even know if I think he does--and shakes his head, wincing where his antlers contact some bit of wall or furnishing.] Wish we'd a perfect world where we could've safely contained the demon and no one had to be hurt? Of course.

But never regret it.

[Rich's following question is--a good one, even if it's one Myr hadn't considered for himself. Part of it was knowing (trusting) L so completely and suddenly as he now did; part of it was...he rarely did worry for himself that way, worry that someone else might hurt him. So, slowly, carefully,]

If he did, I think I've so completely misunderstood him that I could do nothing but leave. [Breath in, breath out.] I don't think I have. But it's a wise question to ask.

[His voice grows softer, then:] I don't know it's a matter of wanting anyone to suffer, sweeting. It's that he's so mutilated inside he can only act better than he's learned if someone shows him how. And I'd stand between you and all that, if you'd let me.

So... if he was a danger to either of us... you would do the same? You really would leave?

[He doesn't want to sound... enthused about the idea of Myr leaving L behind, really. It's not really what he wants. But he does want to know that Myr isn't too far gone. His voice takes on a slightly bitter, defensive tone.]

Because he can have reasons, but they can't be excuses for... hurting anyone. Whether it's me or you or someone else. You said I couldn't make myself hurt trying to help him, so that has to count for you.

[He can understand that Linden isn't... all bad. But he knows digging for the goodness in him could backfire spectacularly.]

I would.

[It's a counterfactual case that won't happen, from where Myr's standing, because L isn't the SQUIP. He does not know all his Bonded's secrets--suspects there are some that will break his heart to learn--but he knows that broadest stroke already about L. It grants him a quiet certain confidence that he will not have to walk away.

(Is it hubris on his part to think so? He believes not with every fiber of his being.)]

Should it come to that, he'd lose me. But I don't believe he will. For all that life has made of him, he still wants to be better than he is.

Edited 2019-12-30 06:30 (UTC)

fellas is it gay if you can magically read your best bros thoughts (OPEN)

hmmmm seems suspicious. get lullaby'd on, son.

noooooo it's not his bedtime yet!

TOO LATE

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