when & where:Ā council chambers - sometime post ancient appearance...
status: open
so many raised voices.
so many wide eyes.
so many angry words.
so much mistrust.
and theyāre angry at the wrong thing.Ā the wrong people.Ā itās all just wrong and aeron has no clue how to put things right.Ā he wasnāt practiced in peace, he was practiced in war.Ā
fingers trail over the back of feiyans seat in the council chamber.Ā those - things - tempting each and every one of them to seize it.Ā heās tempted to take an axe to it and burn the damned thing.Ā perhaps it might just be a signal to whatever it was causing such malice among them that - no - whatever the threats, whatever the consequence, they were stronger than words.Ā they were stronger than hate.Ā hell, they were stronger than magic.Ā and he truly has to believe that... that the humanity inside each and every one of them - morality, loyalty, a sense of right - was stronger than...
...them.Ā those - things... whatever they were.
the thing in the library addressed them asĀ āhumansā - inferring quite plainly thatĀ āitā was not.
I recall who you were many cycles ago.
but perhaps it had no idea who they were now.Ā playing on surface fears, shallow intent, harsh threats to get all to be somehow... obedient.Ā and if that was the case, then perhaps they could just win this after all... because obstinacy, attitude and sheer stubbornness seemed to run thick like treacle through the some of the council.
ā think anyone has grand ideas of -- claiming this seat? ā
an offhand comment as he hears someone enter the room.Ā fingers tapping on that chair loud enough to raise a soft sound.Ā he doesnāt know who it is - but thereās enough in his tone to at least communicate that while aeron was around - that might be a rather bad idea.
the first thing he does when they reach the library is look at the faces around him... wondering where the others are. Ā why are there so few here --
but his question is answered in the words of the glowing spectre. Ā they were the ones who decided not to fall for the temptations of their shades - whoād opposed the words, the promises, the tales of things to come. Ā and after the blatant threat and vanishing of the floaty bitch, he finds himself lingering with bree. Ā whoād already told him that she was as ready to give in to the words of her āother selfā as he was. Ā aka - not at all.
ā is it just me or are these... things... more full of shit than before? ā
heās pacing now. Ā perhaps the movement would still his hand. Ā because he still has his gun and - if he thought it might have done some good, heād have taken a pot shot at floaty mcfloatyface. Ā but he doesnāt know enough yet... not enough to know if a bullet would wound - or kill... and more to the point, he doesnāt know what the potential backlash of such violence would be - not thinking about the consequence to himself so much as he was thinking of the others who had been present in the room with him at the time.
ā one: Ā this isnāt game of fucking thrones. Ā we werenāt called here to be subservient to anyone - feiyan brought us here to be equals. Ā to work together. Ā iām not ābending the kneeā to that rancid cow. ā
( ...if you think he didnāt watch game of thrones... )
ā two: Ā sheās wrong. Ā weāre not resisting a grab for power out of fear. Ā ancient and all powerful my arse. Ā every single thing weāve been taught since we got here is about how to respect magic, to learn from it, to use it with some kind of aforethought to the goddamn consequences and - not - to be an outright dick about it... not to... take it for granted. ā
ā three: Ā if she wantās me to āsuccumb to my fearā sheās going to have to get through my goddamn anger first. ā
ā four: Ā ... ā
okay. Ā heās running out of steam. Ā the small tirade finally ebbing. Ā he just... had to get it off his chest and - poor bree was the unassuming recipient of that outburst. Ā so he just finishes with something of a vague wave of his hand as the words run out - finishing with a heavy breath. Ā just one freaking day without some otherworldly interruption from some freakish thing from where the hell ever dropping threats and words of doom, death and destruction. Ā
and perhaps those words wouldnāt have fallen as freely if heād been with anyone else.Ā thereās something he hopes is at least a commonality there - the fact that they both think the apparitions are liars to say the least.Ā even if thatās the single similarity between them - aeron with his gruff ways, looming and stoic, bree with her forever smile, her quick wits and easy breezy way.Ā why does he say it?Ā because he remembers their last conversation... coming back more vividly now that the red mist is dissipating...Ā andĀ shoes.Ā he remembers the shoes.
finally plonking himself down on the nearest sofa - something to stop that incessant pacing.Ā followed by a quieter voice... an apology for the outburst.Ā
Her father had always said that there was no pain that strength couldnāt overcome.
Danaās never been strong, not strong enough to teachānot strong enough to hold anything together. Always the kind of person that cried in the middle of her arguments, and then again as when she felt her points dissolve under the emotion she canāt keep trapped in her chest. There was no strength in stumbling around, in just barely hobbling her way into another day pretending she still remembers what it means to be The Hierophantāas though she ever knew theright answer.
But her father, she remembers, has never felt the crippling state of insecurity. Heād never broken a bone. Never felt a family tear apart from the inside out. He wouldnāt know the first thing about pain or strength.
Maybe Rose was right to run, maybe some pain is simply too great to try and overcomeābut when Aeron is in her space, laying Lailani on a bed, sheās beyond grateful she doesnāt need to pursue that line of thought further.
Dana moves like a ghost, one slow stride to the bedside. Her eyes ringed with a lack of sleep as she tries to meet Aeronās ( looking up would mean she couldnāt look down, and down was where her eyes wanted to be these days ).
Fix.
Ah, thatās supposed to be her job, isnāt it?
She wants to confess she truly canāt fix anything; she can heal skin but the memories remain and the ghost of ache will still stab and all the pain surrounding this place will never leave and shenot some healer sheās just a woman who happens to heal and itās not fixing itās more likecovering it upābut she doesnāt. Aeron had always struck her as the strong sort, a person that probably doesnāt cry when heās trying to explain politics to his conservative relatives.
āIs sheāare you okay?ā She addresses Aeron first, remembers that thereās a patient and speaks to her. Dana knows itās a dumb question, sheās the doctor. She should know the answer, and if theyāre hereāthe answer is a resounding ānoā. But she asks anyway because she doesnāt feel like much of a doctor anymoreāmuch of anything. āIālittle owl?ā She pauses for a moment, snickers to herself at the choice of words. āI suppose she is..uh..symbolically like an owlāI donāt think Iāve seen Lailani pluck a mouse off the ground in the middle of the night just yet. Iādo you give everyone animal-themed nicknames? What do you call people you donāt like? Geese?ā
When she feels the weight of a moment pass between her words, she remembers thereās areason why theyāre here. āOh, right, sorry, bleedingāā She begins to look over Lailani, the way a doctor would. āAn owlās flight is silent,ā she mumbles, a warm smile directed towards Lailani, āI thought you might like to know that.ā Immediately she presses her palm to the wound, using her other hand to brush away hair from Lailaniās face, the way a mother would. Itās all imitation, itās always been imitation. āThis,ā she reiterates, āI can fix.ā Magic pours from her chest into her hand, warmth bursting from her palm as she goes through the motions.
Keeping her hand and the flow of magic steady, Dana teases with a soft smile, ānow, this is the part where you tell me what happened.ā
For one blissful moment - it is much longer than a moment. but she doesnāt have any concept of that - Lailani sees nothing. Dreams nothing. There is no fear or pain or whirlwind of colors in a vision that was not-
Not what? Sheās not sure while she sleeps. Best be awake to consider those sorts of questions.
Perhaps that is why she jolts awake in a rush of air, flinching against strong arms and looking up to see Aeron. She assumes itās him, anyway. Her vision is a haze of disjointed outlines and colors, still warped from the not-quite-vision. Or, as she reaches up to hold her aching head and discovers crimson, maybe a concussion.Ā āAeron?ā she asks in a voice so wispy he likely doesnāt hear,Ā āwhat- whatās g-going on?ā
It trickles back to her in flashes. The dining room. The vision. Falling because it was wrong, it all felt wrong, and she tried to jerk herself out of it and instead her entire body had gone with her. She canāt remember the blood or being rushed out, but those things tangle with the smoke and ash of her foresight and she quiets again, too dizzy to parse through it herself.
She doesnāt even think to argue because Aeron always knows best, even when he isnāt certain. He could have no idea what he just walked into and she would still trust him to find a way out. Itās the sudden shifting and lack of movement that has her spinning in her own head again, but that stops soon enough, and then Dana is there trying to talk to her, and itās all very confusing.
Nice to know the owl fact, though. She nods. She wants to say she does, indeed, like knowing that, but her tongue is a little thick and her head really hurts now. And the things she saw, all flooding back againā¦
Danaās touch is tender, and so is her smile, and that feels a little odd. Dana usually smiles at her with a barely-suppressed scientific glee, not⦠whatever this is. But sheās not about to call that out. George still has his sweater, things canāt be too strange around the infirmary.Ā
āI-I was⦠I saw,ā she chokes out, nerves getting ahold of her voice and making it tremble.Ā āI saw horrible things, I donāt- It wasnāt like anything Iāve seen before. There was so much red. So much fighting. Everyone⦠We were all fighting like, like animals, no regard for each otherās humanity.ā She reaches for anything solid within grasping distance and her fingers curl intoĀ he first thing she finds. Maybe the edge of her bed, or Aeronās arm, she hardly notices.Ā āThere was this bright light sometimes, above or off to the side, too hard to look right at, but it was never in the focus of the vision anyway⦠Feiyan was there, watching usā¦āĀ
Watching, unable to intervene, as her beloved family tore themselves apart like wolves at meat. That was what had hurt the worst. That was what had scared her right to her bone marrow and made her try to pull away from the vision. A great sucking resistance, like the vision sealed her in and didnāt want to let go. She squeezes her eyes shut.Ā āIt wasnāt normal. Itās not like that, usually. I can- I can stop them if I really want. That one didnāt want me to stop. I wasnāt given a choice. It wasnāt my magic in control.ā The words are weird and flimsy as they come out, because what control did she ever really have? But that is all she knows how to say to two people who, luckily, cannot see into her head.
Her hand flutters up to where Danaās is pressed to her skin, and then away before she makes contact. She wants to sit up, but she doesnāt try. She wants to curl into a ball, actually. Doesnāt try that either.Ā āI donāt remember⦠It hurt.ā Less now that Dana is here, though, or at least the injury does. Her head in general still aches like itās splitting. She gives the doctor a glimmer of a grateful smile, mostly because sheās noticed Dana seems brighter with a little acknowledgement. āI donāt- Aeron saw. I donāt know what happened? From the roomās perspective, I⦠was a little in my own⦠head.ā
heās worried for lani... these visions becoming more imposing, and now violent.Ā the whole situation escalating with each encounter.Ā and heās -- a n g r y -- at whatever it is that played her like a goddamn puppet.Ā invading and taking over.Ā whatever it is that keeps twisting the world into the wrong shape and laying it at their feet to hurt and divide them.Ā whatever it is that was playing magic like a goddamn fiddle out of tune.
however, the snigger from dana at what ere, in effect, words not meant for her just draws a sharp gaze from death.Ā he finds nothing about this situation -- funny.Ā he doesnāt think she does either... not really.Ā this is just an easy distraction from what happened.Ā tension manifesting itself as hysteria... ( at least thatās what heāll assume, because if, in fact she was just laughing while one of them lay injured then... he perhaps wouldnāt look so kindly upon the action ).
do you give everyone animal-themed nicknames?
ā ā no. ā
a short, rough answer.Ā keeping his response clipped to that single word, lest dana be the unfortunate and wholly undeserving recipient of that anger unleashed - and again, heās not angry with her, heās grateful that sheās here, that sheās trying her best to help.
ā ā you got hacked. ā
replying to the question that comes stuttering from laniās lips - thatās about the best way he can describe it, moving one hand to pat the top of lanis gently as she asks what happened.Ā he tries to fill in the gaps, even though the vision sounds an awful lot like the future his own shade had foretold.Ā Ā
ā ā some vision, another one of those foreboding warnings - weāre all doomed apparently. ā
he says it with a light shrug.Ā he never dismisses her power.Ā but he doesnāt believe that a vision is a sign of what will be.Ā only what might be.Ā and there was a shit ton of that around at the moment.Ā visits from supposed future selves.Ā lanis power hijacked to deliver yet another message of doom.Ā Ā
ā ā to be honest, whatever is doing this is using the same tired old schtick over and over.Ā yāthink they might actually be a bit more inventive, huh? ā
he forces a smile with the words.Ā trying to make light of something serious.
ā ā they seem pretty damn set on repeating themselves - over and over... and i reckon hijacking your vision is just another attempt to try to achieve what they clearly havenāt so far... ā
his eyes flick up to dana once more.Ā wondering how muchĀ āimpactā the constant messages were having on the others.Ā were they starting to fall for it?Ā starting to believe?Ā or were they - like him - just getting pissed off with the whole sordid affair.Ā and itās not just lani heās addressing in this - but both of them.
ā ā whatever they are - they need us to start fighting among ourselves.Ā and my guess is, thatās because they arenāt strong enough to do it themselves. ā
nose wrinkles as he wonders if thereās a way to protect her.Ā a way to make sure that foresight couldnāt be used like some kind of wonky tv remote, tweaked until it delivered the right kind of signal.Ā perhaps thereās something in that extensive library.Ā something that might help ward off those unwanted attacks.Ā and he would go and look -- after he was certain that she was okay.Ā that they both were.Ā everyone left at least shaken from the episode.
ā ā think if i made you a tin-foil hat, that would help? ā
āGlitter coveredā¦ā She trailed off, eyeing him with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. He had a point, one Azra definitely understood intimately. Everyone elseās powers manifested easily and without the requirement of mimicry; entering the lair had opened her up to all sorts of incredible things. Nothing was impossible. That had both positive and negative implications, and currently the council stared down the latter
He looked sincere and there were threads of it his voice, but the words caught in her throat anyway. She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again, dark eyes flitting to gaze around him, and then she turned slightly in place to give the garden one last glance before she launched into all of this. Azra ran her fingertips on the rock wall again, tiny mountains that had not yet seen weathering by the elements.Ā āI did this,ā she said finally as she focused on the tiny bit of dirt that fell from the wall following her touch.Ā āI raised the rocks.ā Her hand fell away from the wall and she looked up at him with a frown, a brief pause before she launched into everything else that happened.
āI was out here gardening and⦠um. Trying to plant some flowers and stuff as a surprise for Eve, and then I saw her. ā¦It,ā she corrected, inclining her chin slightly in thought as she did so.Ā āIt looked like me? Kind of⦠I dunno. Disheveled. She was so beautiful, too?ā Her eyebrows arched and knitted. Despite the absolute terror the memory instilled, something like jealousy twisted in her stomach at the easy confidence and beauty her double radiated. Azra wanted that more than anything, but not like that.Ā
āBut she offered me power without mimickingālike I could do what you guys do? Without touching anyone? But likeā¦ā She shrugged and looked at her feet.Ā āYou know when things sound too good to be true. Iāve hurt myself enough with the easy way to know there isnātĀ one, and so I said that. Like, a lot⦠and then she snapped? Like changed?ā The words tumbled out rockslide-quick now and she started gesturing more frantically as she spoke.Ā āShe told me I was helpless and powerless and pathetic and uselessĀ and I couldnātā I canātāāĀ
Tears burned behind her eyes unexpectedly and she snapped her mouth closed, jaw clenched. Sheād started shaking and only noticed it now, and she folded her arms tightly across her torso in a weak attempt to hide it.Ā āI pushed her, just to get her away from me, my hand touchedĀ her skin, and I mimicked something wild. And it told me that wasnāt mine to take, that it was going to show me my power, not let me use itās magic or⦠something⦠I donāt know. It screamed and jumped and I did thisāā She gestured at the wall with a quick jerk of her head.Ā āAnd then I ranāā Finally, she stopped talking, eyes wide and glossy as she gulped a few deep breaths in hopes to settle herself down. Clearly this was still too near to explain properly.
from the faltering start, the words just speed up, until theyāve gathered so much momentum that they arenāt just words anymore - a stone tumbling downhill, but instead of just gathering moss, this brought with it.Ā the raw emotion in the words and the tears brimming in her eyes is enough to move the soldier.Ā a protective nature built into his bones.Ā Ā
ā ā hey, hey...Ā deep breath.Ā sheās not here anymore, itās just you and me. ā
one arm extends and he does offer a quick, gentle squeeze around slender shoulders - easily encompassing her small frame before he lets go.Ā where heād actually found some manner of amusement in their previous predicament ( if annoyingly being stuck as small fuzzy blobs ), this time, he doesnāt laugh.
ā ā you can do what we do.Ā your magic is just as unique and special as anyone elseās and thereās a reason weāve been given what we have... so that we can learn to respect it.Ā so that we can make better choices that thoseĀ āpast selvesā did. ā
he does offer a small nod though at theĀ ātoo good to be trueā.Ā a flicker of relief in his chest when he sees the obvious doubt in her eyes, hears the conviction in her words.Ā heās also annoyed - angry...Ā not at azra, but that these visions are preying on people in the worst of ways.Ā telling them that they willĀ āfailā - that theyāre nothing, useless, impotent - unless they take up the temptation, are lured by those promises ofĀ āgreatnessā, ofĀ āmoreā.
ā ā and you showed her just how strong you are.Ā stronger than her.Ā itās easy to say yes.Ā a lot harder to say no.Ā Ā ā power isnāt just about how much magic you have fizzing at your fingertips.Ā itās about being true to yourself, and she probably got pissed, because in that moment - she could see that you had so much more than her. ā
he doesnāt know if sheās listening.Ā doesnāt know if those words are sinking in or are just bouncing off the wall of emotion that seemed to be flooding from her right now.Ā but he keeps his voice steady and calm, reassuring throughout.Ā that no matter the aftermath of the encounter, he believes everything he says - that she made the right choice.Ā defied the temptation.Ā stood against thatĀ āother selfā and defied it, even with all of the magic it presented.Ā was brave even through her fear.
he finally looks at the broken parts of the garden.Ā itās just another casualty of these... attacks.Ā damage to the wall wasnāt as bad as damage to the mind, or the heart, the play on emotions by toxic visions.
ā ā this is nothing we canāt fix. ā
ā ā and as for āherā - you did good.Ā if she ever comes back, you just give her another reminder of how much stronger you are.Ā let her have another tantrum.Ā and then weāll fix that too. ā
āYeah, yeah Iām fine. She didnāt start off threatening. Just sort of went that way when I wasnāt buying what she was selling.āĀ
Bree took a deep breath, moving forward to stand beside Aeron and lean against the edge of the roof. There was still part of her that wanted to avoid him after the whole catnip thing, but that was childish; they needed to be working together not behaving like children. She glanced up through her eyelashes at him, trying to read his expression and failing.Ā
āShe said a lot of things. Started off by telling me you never get over the whole, uh, catnip incident ā which, by the way, was an honest mistake. I sort of forgot that you were a cat and I figured if Billy found it instead of Balfour that itād be fine. Soā¦you know⦠Iām, uh, sorryā¦about thatā¦you were reallyĀ cute though if that helps. Probably doesnāt. Anyway.ā She cleared her throat, shifting awkwardly and turning to look out over the yard instead of at him.Ā Ā
āBut, yeah. There was a request to go join her in Bermuda. A promise of untold power if I wanted it. Told me I should be in charge, whichā¦please, thatās a disaster waiting to happen. Said that I could have access to all the powers of the entire council if I was willing to risk destroying everyone in the process. Also said that Nadine is minutes away from going nuclear. When I wasnāt reacting how she expected she told me I was tame like a puppy andĀ āmaybe she should take my placeā because she wasĀ āout of her own friends to drownā or something like that. Soā¦that was fun. What did yours say?ā
aerons lips twist into something of a half smile, half grimace as she calls him ācuteā.Ā and she had looked after him in his buzzed up hyper state.
but he puts the words together in his head.Ā Ā āyou never get over the whole, uh, catnip incidentāĀ -- which made it sound like he was going to hold some kind of vehement grudge for life when really, it was just a bit embarrassingĀ to be a punch drunk kitten for a few hours.Ā and then she says sorry.Ā one simple word that makes the whole thing a wash.Ā he hears it so very rarely these days and in that he offers a small nod of acceptance in return...
ā thank you... ā
ā ... i doubt iāll ever forget it - itās not an experience thatās going to fade fast.Ā ā
still paled in comparison to some of the other memories jostling for pole position in his head.Ā in fact, it might just be one of the better ones.
āĀ but thatās not exactly the same as forgiving, is it?Ā at end of the day no one got hurt, no damage, it was an err in judgement on both parts... so... no harm no foul. ā
and in that he shoulders some of the responsibility for the littleĀ āincidentā himself.Ā heās the one whoād been rambling around the lair in his teeny tiny state.Ā heās the one whoād stumbled upon the lure of the catnip.Ā and in the grander scheme of things, with the danger they seemed to be facing with all of these unknowns... it really didnāt matter in the slightest.Ā Ā itās done, put behind them. Ā
and he knows - that for all bree is a little bundle of constant chaos... sheās also sweet and kind and funny.Ā that there was no malice intended... he doubts whether she has a malicious bone in her body.Ā Ā
ā which means that your - double - was wrong about at least one thing.Ā so she could be wrong about the rest too.Ā ā
thereās a moment pause as another, similar tale seeps into the air between them.Ā aeron taking a rather long breath before he turns to look at her -Ā
ā same shit, different face. ā
a quieter mumble of words, mostly to himself before he explains...
ā mine said pretty much the same thing, in a different way.Ā all of these... doubles... seem to be laying down the same schtick... promises of power.Ā urging people to snatch what they can before itās seized by someone else.Ā the whole -Ā ārise to the top or run awayā. ā
and death.Ā of the others - by his hand.Ā of the people they were supposed to call friend or family.Ā that part he keeps locked behind his teeth though.Ā his own shades words of blood still a little too vibrant in his mind.
ā combative or divisive.Ā itās a ploy thatās been used worlds over, bree.Ā wars, battles, always have the same root - and the easiest way to win, is to get yourĀ āenemyā - to fight among themselves.Ā to destroy each other.Ā then you just stroll in and pick up your victory from the ashes they leave behind. ā
ā whatever it is... whatever they are.Ā they onlyĀ āwinā if we let them. ā
the mention of nadine is worrisome though.Ā itās the second time heās heard her name specifically mentioned.Ā was it just another ploy to get the council to target members, to begin that friction?Ā or was it a genuine warning that they were the most likely to fall for the temptations offered...?
Justice, Nadine, Marcella, they need to be checked with it. If you see them dabbling in old ways or dealing with creatures that promise them more, youāve come upon a choice.
he just... doesnāt know what to do.Ā rely on the strength of those around him and their rejection of those temptations.Ā at least bree seemed to think alike... didnāt trustĀ āitā... didnāt believe...Ā hopefully she would help convince others of the same.Ā heās tooĀ āheavyā - tooĀ āseriousā.Ā where sheās lighter and brighter and quite possibly his opposite in every way.Ā so maybe those who wont speak to him, might speak to her.Ā and heās aware that heās damping that light with his words, so thereās something of an effort to try to lift the mood...
ā ...and yāknow - if you want... shoes, itās not exactly hard for me toĀ āacquireā certain goods.Ā helps when you can swap faces yāknow? ā
Oftentimes, it takes some heavy reminding that she didnāt own the monopoly on the space beyond the highest windows, teetering the edge of the roof whether she bathed in the moonlight above or begged for it to come sooner. A reminder that always seemed to come with a flash of hot anger at the sight of anyone else finding purchase in what might have been her only safe haven here. Too many times, sheād bitten her tongue in the quiet quell of such anger; nobody needed to be on the tail end of such unwarranted fire that burnt within her chest for all too little, but much too brightly for any one specific reason. It was perhaps why she simply didnāt ā ever, fly off the handle. There was never an explanation, and the only one she could ever find was one she never wanted to bring to light
Itās a rough sigh, noncommittal and etched to no forcible sense of annoyance, one that blooms and dies within the same breath as she breaches the edge of the windowsil and climbs out as if sheās done it a thousand times before ā a number which would only regard her visits to the rooftop in the past two weeks alone. She can breathe again, the evening air enough to spur the reminder that her time is soon; itās always soon. She never has to wait long, but gods if the days donāt feel like eons.Ā
Sheās rattled; shaken from Balfourās denunciation of the Feiyan thatād seemingly returned to them, itās the tricks and the lies that promise to unfold beyond the possibility of such illusion; where others might have found shock in the things thisĀ Fei had spoken, it was only ever what Jack heard in her mind. Failure.Ā
Golden locks are the only reprieve, at least she knows he wonāt pry; though perhaps it isnāt his turn to ask questions as the glint of silver beckons her forward, Jack pausing atop the shingles of the roof in mild awe as realization drags itself across her spine.Ā āā Unless youāre about to put a bullet between my eyes.. or even your own..ā Nothing, I havenāt seenĀ anything.ā Itās a lie, sheās always lying; she sees more than she ever lets on and even despite her denial, Aeron knows that.Ā āYou expecting to find someone worth using that thing on up here?ā
ā plenty people in my life have tried to kill me.Ā itād be a really shitty irony if i did their job for them. ā
itās true.Ā bullets and bombs.Ā war wasnāt subtle when it was trying to take your life.Ā ( and he has no doubt that sheās seen it.Ā those bloody battles in his dreams.Ā the deafening sounds, the prickle of constant adrenalin and a slice of ice cold fear through the heat of burning bodies - the only fuel to keep him alive ). and in so much as he is -- death -- life is one thing he does have a healthy respect for.Ā including his own.
ā this is for... something else. ā
he doesnāt quite know what yet.Ā or who.Ā but itās something of a solid reassurance to the soldier.Ā perhaps thatās the reason heād picked it up in the first place.Ā to deny the words that came to him from the shade.Ā to remind himself that whatever - war - might be coming, that he wonāt run.Ā he will -- fight.Ā with whatever means he can.Ā mortal or magic or otherwise.
he does know sheās lying.
itās a shame, he thinks... that even now, thereās some kind of need to keep things hidden.Ā especially now.Ā when there are forces at play attempting to tear them apart... a time that they need to join together to stand fast and hold.Ā Ā
itās a shame, he thinks... that of all the people... she, who has seen some of his most intimate fears, the things that plague his nightmares, his hidden secrets... canāt find the freedom... or perhaps the trust... to simply confide in him.
itās a shame, he thinks... that perhaps... those nightmares are once again bleeding into reality.Ā a reality where he may have to act... may have to... kill...Ā a nightmare that she canāt soothe.
āYou expecting to find someone worth using that thing on up here?ā
ā maybe me.Ā other me.Ā few of us have seen... other selves. ā
perhaps it would be a mercy in itself to place a bullet into the forlorn form of the shade.Ā he probably wonāt though.Ā in so much as it had brought words to his ears that he didnāt particularly want to hear -- the shade hadnāt been intent on any actual harm.Ā but it is the reason heās up high - one wan eye on the perimeter, trying to find the flicker of flight that betrays the presence of his crow...
ā and from what i can tell so far, theyāre a bunch of bastards for the most part.Ā whether theyāre actuallyĀ āusā or not, couldnāt say.Ā but they tend not to come with good news or anything kind to say. ā
more like the third ghost from scrooge... in his case, quite accurately so.
āĀ and... if that vision of fei was anything to go by, and the brat-cat says it wasnāt her, then... maybe these arenāt either.Ā ā
Ā the stain - event aftermath:Ā Ā @theninthcardĀ &Ā @danamiri
she feels too light in his arms.Ā as though no weight at all.Ā something ephemeral, ethereal, ascendant... unreal.
but reality was in the blood red streak, slipping down paper skin.Ā leaving a stain in itās wake from a sore and ragged wound.Ā perhaps itās an unconscious magic lending him strength - an unthought shift, a transformation beneath his skin to lend fortitude in the moment he needs it most.
None of us are safe from each other.
he already knows they arenāt safe from him.Ā or so the shade foretold, as though from a state of future unavoidable.Ā Ā but -- he still canāt bring himself to believe that thereās nothing to be changed.Ā he still canāt bring himself to believe that these shades are everything they purport to be.Ā something still so -- wrong -- about the division.Ā the more and more blatant attempts to drive them apart... to take those already fractured pieces and scatter them to the wind... a mirror to glass.Ā glass to sand.
None of us are safe from each other.
bullshit.
they may not be safe, but theyāre only not safe from each other the moment they start buying into that fact.Ā the moment they start believing it to be the truth... a fact not a prophecy.Ā yes, he still has the gun, but now - more than ever, he swears to use it to protect them.Ā against whatever it might be trying to rip them apart.
he didnāt ask for permission to scoop lani into his arms.Ā and perhaps if there was any magic seeping from her into his past, then it would still be less of a terror than whatever it was that had hijacked her power to deliver another message of foreboding.Ā any protest would fall upon deaf ears.Ā in this he was unmovable.Ā he was taking her to the infirmary and she was going to rest and recover and there was -- NO -- argument to be had about that.Ā and if anyone thought to try - they obviously thought better of it...
...only one other on the coat tails of death as he ground the hallways beneath the thud of his boots.Ā one softly stepping, a lilt of something that softly sounded a little like home to his ears in the few words he ever managed to overhear.Ā the one person who might just be able to do something to make reparation where he could not.Ā perhaps thereās a small flutter of gratitude in his chest at her presence.
a gentle but firm press of words to lani as the infirmary flickers bright.Ā stepping over to a bed more comfortable than any emergency room...Ā
ā okay, easy now... this is the part where you donāt argue, little owl. just rest, weāre here and weāre not going to leave you, okay? ā
finally turning to dana with a steady gaze ( a veneer of calm and control that was donned with tantamount ease - it was an expectation, it was the soldier once more arriving to take control )...
ā and this is the part where you fix this. ā
fix it.
fix what?Ā there was too much broken to be repaired with the whim of one magic.Ā but heās not talking about the whole.Ā just this part.Ā this very important part.
ā can you?Ā can you fix this? ā
now, obviously clearer that heās referring to the wound.Ā not the shambles left in the aftermath...
When he says sheās beautiful, her smile returns, small and sad and like a poem for a lostĀ lover. Evelyn isnāt sure she believes him. The vision had been so breathtaking. The night had seemed to shift around her, like she was the moon cutting through the darkness. Evelyn wasnāt like that. Or at least, if Aeron was right, she wasnāt beautiful in that same way. Maybe in the way that daisies were beautiful āā a sweet kind; one that was there but didnāt demand attention. Certainly not the moon.Ā
āThank you,ā she says quietly, sadly.Ā āYouāre kind.ā She doesnāt say anymore about, although a distant part of her wants him to say it again, because it was nice to hear when she felt so twisted about Feiyan and her vision and everything in between.
The smile fades as she listens. Instead, her eyebrows come together and her teeth chew at the inside of her cheek. She doesnāt look at him while he speaks. She lets him have his moment, to say it all aloud, because she doesnāt know if she has yet and she remembers when she told Daniel, she had to hope he didnāt think she was crazy. So she lets Aeron talk to the wind and instead, she looks out at the gardens, at the winding river. The railing of the roof digs into her, uncomfortable, but she doesnāt move.
āWarn you,ā she echoes, voice weary, troubled. It was a far cry from her own. More like Danielās. She takes a moment to think, like sheās stepping back from a puzzle.Ā āYes, I mean, okay. So. Obviously when Feiyan disappearedāāā disappeared. Like a ghost. The word mocks her. But what else to call it? Feiyan hadnāt left. And if she had, she wouldnāt be in pain.Ā āāāwhen Feiyan disappeared, some people wanted to step up. For the good of the council,ā she adds, because it wasnāt fair to talk badly of any of them.Ā āBut⦠there was no real moves to do that. No one has made this wild grab for power.ā
Evelynās gaze shifts to Aeronās to study him again.Ā āI think youāre right, you know, that would not be good if we gave into those temptations. But my double wanted me to. She was very sweet about it and made it all about how I needed to fulfil my potential. But I would have never considered it before she started talking all that shit into my ear, like. Andāāand,ā the words fall over themselves as she starts to become animated as she speaks, as if she had taken a step back to study the full painting and not just the small dots of colour.Ā āDanās double had talked about there being only one solution to⦠something. Theyāre all really vague in the way that they speak. But theyāre obviously trying to pull us apart and convince us each to be on their side. To do⦠what? Manipulate whoever tries to come into power?ā
Evelyn pushes herself off from the railing, turning to face Aeron.Ā āDid yours want you to do something? Or did you just⦠need warning about the rest of us?ā The small bit of hurt creeps into her voice. This is her family. Her family, that she loves with all her hurt. And these things were trying to pull them apart.Ā āMine almost seemed like it came from the past or like it was my first self. But like, Daniel said they shouldnāt be able to do that. I donāt think any of us should be able to walk through time. So I donāt understand what the fuck these things are.ā
she says heās kind.
he begs to differ.
ā no, iām really not. ā
perhaps heās persuaded himself for too long that what he did was kindness.Ā it wasnāt.Ā perhaps heās still letting those words from his shade spin around his head...
The only thing that makes me feel less damned is the hope that they suffered less by my hand than they would have otherwise.
kindness.Ā --he doesnāt see it.Ā so perhaps sheāll just take his words for what they are.Ā not kind.Ā not an attempt at buoying to her self-esteem.Ā just honest.
ā thereās a difference between being the most powerful and being a good leader.Ā not everyone sees that.Ā some people think that once they get into a position of leadership, the only way they can retain it is to take power... and more... and more... and sooner or later, the cost of taking that power no longer matters... ā
at this point, he seems to be talking to his boots.Ā eyes studying the ground.Ā the words not wholly referring to the present, but - more a recollection, a reflection of things heād seen in the past.Ā other battles.Ā other wars.
itās only when that brief silence settles between them again that he seems to realise that he was talking at all.
ā I would have never considered it before she started talking ā
and he has to wonder... is she considering it now?Ā plant the seed.Ā kindle the spark.Ā let something small grow, spread - fester... like a mould... a fungus... a parasite.Ā the question lingers on the back of his teeth... unspoken, for now.Ā Ā
ā Manipulate whoever tries to come into power?Ā ā
ā thatās the crux of it.Ā we shouldnāt be worried about āpowerā - about more magic.Ā we canāt forget that weāre more than just... magic. ā
hence - the gun.Ā not every problem had a magical solution.Ā and magic wasnāt the solution to every problem.Ā not when you were human.Ā not when you were a complex creature capable of so much -- more -- than magic.Ā things like compassion and loyalty...
ā vague isnāt quite the word for it.Ā even my -- double... ā
he almost utters the wordĀ āshadeā - thatās what his mind has named the other him.Ā the foreteller of horrors.Ā the bleak and bloody future that awaited.
ā ...said that he couldnāt tell me more.Ā i donāt know why.Ā but... he gave me options.Ā none of which were enticing to say the least.Ā he said i should leave.Ā or make that grab for power.Ā i have no intention of doing either. iām pretty sure he already knew that. ā
because thatās what the other him had done... stayed.Ā tried to fight.Ā tried to stand for something.Ā was there a potential where he didnāt fail...?Ā where he didnāt have to take lives?Ā or was there just a pre-destined path... so, perhaps soon... he will become the shade.Ā visiting his past self to loop like the snake devouring itself.Ā a never ending spiral of caution followed by death.
ā he said he came from the future... from our future.Ā but i donāt know if they can be trusted.Ā with feiyan gone, who knows what might be leaking into this place - trying to take advantage of us, trying to manipulate. ā
perhaps whatever it was that had taken feiyan was using - her - power to interfere... after all, who knew each and every one of them as well as she did?
ā we already know something is trying to... corrupt magic.Ā the shit that went down with the ley lines for a start.Ā the next logical step is to remove the next barrier - us. ā
The encounter with her double didnāt shake her as much as it probably should have. It was disconcerting, to say the least, but it felt like an elaborate prank. It wasnātĀ her, the other entity was too different, tooā¦bizarre. And it didnāt know the lyrics to Abba. One of Breeās earliest memories was driving to the beach in her dadās pickup, surfboards hanging out the back, windows down singing along to The Album or Waterloo or any of their other hits. There was other music as well, but Abba was a staple.Ā
Somehow all the councilors needed to sit down and talk about what happened, figure out what the hell was going on, but she had no idea how to make that happen. So she was sort of waiting for someone else to initiate. Someone with more authority and a chance of being listened to.Ā
In the meantime, she wandered. Maybe one on one sheād have a chance to talk to a few folks and as a group, they could figure out the next steps. That was how she found herself on the roof. With Aeron. And a gun. Maybe her double was right about him never really getting over the catnip thingā¦
āWhat?ā she asked, her eyes darting up to his face.Ā āWhat do you mean, what did I see? Just now? I saw you looking extra broody, which is sort of an accomplishment, so well done. Uh⦠I saw Azra trying to befriend Balfour. Again. I saw a really cute pair of shoes on my evil twin and she didnāt even have the decency to leave them after threatening me. Iām guessing thatās the one youāre most interested in?ā
he still hasnāt forgiven her for the catnip.
...( sheās also not offered anything that might sound even vaguely like an apology for entertaining herself at his expense, but thatās rather by the by )...
however -- rather than letting a petty grudge ( composed mostly from his own embarrassment ) slam in yet another wedge ( and donāt they just have enough of those between them right now? ), jericho decides to let that one go...Ā
...for now.
he does squint slightly as the words tumble out - trying to make sense of the chaos and multidirectional conversation that seemed to be a staple for bree... a snort as she mentions the obnoxious cat.Ā pain in the arse that it had been since itās arrival and not so much in the way of āhelpfulā.Ā ( ...and... he doesnāt ābroodā... thereās almost a protest about that on his lips ( even if heās completely wrong ), ) but it dies in the wake of her revelation.Ā itās only when she reaches the last part - statingĀ āevil twinā, that he does offer a small nod, turning fully and giving her his full attention.
ā uhuh... thatāll be the one.Ā shoes...? ā
heās not so surprised as those words just keep throwing curveball after curveball... but one brow does lift gracefully into a questioning arc -
ā she threatened you?Ā ā
ā wow, thatās... quite the persuasive tactic.Ā you okay?Ā ā
ā what else... were there promises of power?Ā or perhaps she told you to leave?Ā because that seems to be a pretty common thread.Ā they.... they.... the other, āusā - if thatās what they actually are - seem to be pretty keen on getting everyone of us to pick one or the other... ā
Danielās words still hung around her, like the velvet cloak fastened at the base of her neck in the pictures of her on tarot cards. No. No. I donāt trust her, she whispered ( not that he could hear it ) every time she remembered how his eyebrows had furrowed when she told him about the vision. I shouldnāt have trusted her at all. But the air had tasted of honeysuckle and the hand on her cheek had been real and she had wanted, so badly, for this to be help with finding Feiyan.
And, to be fair, her double had been right about Marcella.
Her double had told her Marcella just needed a little push, that she did share Evelynās feelings. Her double was right. Even in the chaos, the heavy air of the house āā that sense of energy flicking through it right before lightning arched through the sky, a smile curled at the corner of her lips ( hidden, just for her ) at the thought of Marcella.
She couldnāt resent her double for that.
What she did resent, however, was her efforts to drive Evelyn away from the council. That could be the only explanation for why she wanted Eve to take control. Days after Feiyanās disappearance had shown that making a play for power wasnāt right. It wasnāt fair. And it wasnāt fair to try to make Evelyn turn on her fellow councillors when her whole life was the council.Ā
It always had been. And it had been her downfall before, even if she didnāt know it.
As she walked, her fingers curled out while she counted the number of doubleĀ āvisitsā there had been. Lailani and Azra, herself, Dan⦠too many. It only confirmed that her own really hadnāt been an echo from her past. Her visit didnāt make her special.
It was important to remember that.
She wasnāt sure why she was on the roof. Perhaps because, as much as she hid it, it stung to be in her gardens, to apologise over and over to her flowers for all the hurt they had been through āā only to have them trampled and injured again. Iām sorry, she told them, fingers deep in the soil, magic humming in her touch. Iām so sorry. It wonāt happen again. An uncharacteristic edginess made her jump out of her thoughts, shoulders bracing, when she saw Aeron.Ā āOh hey āā sorry āāā a flickering smile over her lips fell for a moment, as did her eyes when they went to his hands. A thought, the worst possible scenario, made her vision blur. The tension bled into her limbs, panic freezing her, heart pounding too hard. What was he about toāāĀ āAeronāāā
His voice though. It was steady. The look on his face was determined. The tension eased, heart rate subsiding. She hadnāt feared her own life. Only his. A deep escaped her, almost like a laugh, relief washing over her. But⦠was he really just standing on the roof with a gun in his hand⦠thinking?
It took a moment, a long one, to register what he was saying.Ā āWhatāāwhat have I seen? Um, I⦠Iāve seen Kian making cookies downstairs and Azra in the gardens, like, but nothing else crazy today.ā Her eyes flickered to the gun again. Like the hand of a clock making it chime suddenly, her understanding snapped into place. She understood why he was on the roof, why he was holding a gun, what he was really asking her.
āOh.ā Empathy, a tug that made her take a step, then two, towards him, hand reaching out like that might comfort him.Ā āYouāve been visited too.ā
The smile, soft and understanding, twisted on her lips again, this time staying. She came closer, patting his arm for a second before bracing herself against the railing of the rooftop, looking out at her gardens, at the river circling around the island.Ā āMine was really, really nice. And beautiful. Like she had this gorgeous crown of flowers and a really beautiful dress and told me to reach my potential and be who I used to be.ā Even now, even with her new understanding of the situation, awe tinged in her voice.Ā āBut that apparently involves taking control of the council and being your Great Leader so⦠you knowā¦. Not sure she had the best of intentions.ā
She turned to look at him, eyes darting up to meet his.Ā āYours? What did you see? Are you okay? After it, I mean.ā
it seems like a long time since heās seen a smile.
no less one that managed to convey such patience and understanding.Ā an empathy that went a little deeper than most liked to portray... something genuine.Ā something real.Ā which is more than can be said about the unreality of things spinning around them on an axis so vastly out of kilter that it was starting to make him dizzy.
she states, rather than asks if heās been visited.Ā and thereās nothing other than a small nod to confirm her words.
what he does, is listen carefully as she answers graciously.Ā honestly.
wonders if her vision meshes with the one his shade brought to him.Ā while hers sounds bright and full of promise and temptation, his was dark, blooded, worn and hollow.Ā is that the difference between those who choose to stand fast and fight, and those who choose temptation over all else.Ā Ā
ā you donāt need a crown and a dress.Ā youāre already beautiful. ā
thatās his own honesty.Ā beauty was in paintings or in flowers or in a sunset... things you could see or smell or touch.Ā but in people, beauty took on more than just a visage.Ā it wasnāt the trimmings.Ā evelyn was already beautiful, outwardly... but it was the inner beauty that made the difference.
Not sure she had the best of intentions.
well... at least he wasnāt the only one who had doubts over the intent of those dopplegangers. Ā whether they were a true version of the future or something else, just trying to trick them onto a path of destruction.
( is he a little relieved at that?Ā that there was at least one other person who was questioning?Ā he doesnāt trust his shade... but he doesnāt wholly disbelieve it either.Ā thereās nothing that it had said that would be so far fantastical that he couldnāt imagine it as the truth...Ā ).
ā thereās a difference between taking control and being given control so... iād stay -- stick with your instincts.Ā mine was... ā
foreboding.Ā tales of death.Ā a fractured, broken creature with haunted eyes and a broken soul.Ā he doesnāt want to go into the specifics... of how it had foretold of his bringing the end to some of them.Ā which ones, he doesnāt know.Ā but he does know the face of a man with the weight of lives on his shoulders...
ā ...here to warn me. ā
perhaps evelyns beautiful vision was from a time in the future before his. Ā before it all turns bad and bloody. Ā or perhaps neither of them were a true aspect of what was to come.Ā Ā
he seems to suddenly remember about the gun... safety is on and he tucks it away into the back of his jeans. Ā why the gun? Ā heās still not sure. Ā perhaps heād take a pot shot at his own crow if he catches sight of it again ( probably not though... ). Ā or perhaps itās because the thing that seems to be the danger here isnāt the magic. Ā itās the people. Ā fallible and fragile and flawed as they all are - including himself. Ā and sometimes... magic wasnāt the solution to everything. Ā
ā about those - temptations.Ā he said that if people give into them... try to start taking more power... then it ends... badly.Ā i donāt know if i believe everything he said... but i think i believe that much.Ā ā
At his attempt at a joke, Azra managed a weak smile that didnāt quite reach her eyes. Not that it matteredāhe wasnāt looking, and soon after, neither was she. For a few long moments, she strained to catch anything out of the ordinary within the garden, a sign that this would happen all over again and sheād be trapped here, this time without a source of magic that exploded to life with every panicked thought that crossed her mind. Even still, nothing happened. It hadnāt since that day, which was both comforting and disconcerting at the same time.
āSomething happened,ā she said, then began to worry her lower lip between her teeth. She walked until she reached a lower portion of the rock wall and carefully stepped over it with one hand atop it to keep herself from losing her balance should she catch her foot. The memory of that sort of power on-demand seared itself into her memory, though the thought wasnāt necessarily a positive one. Sheād ruined Eveās garden again, trashed part of the lair, and nearly hurt both herself and Mitch with it. Not to mention, there was the possibility of what the others might do with that sort of power. She didnāt have a right to decide for them, in her opinion, but she did know that whatever offered it to her wasnāt her friend.
āIf I tell you, do you promise not to⦠not to make fun of me or⦠I donāt know. Iām not crazy,ā she continued carefully, her dark eyes finally returning to meet his.Ā āBut I think itās important.ā There was also the fact that apparently Mitch saw his own duplicateāolder and skinnier, heād explainedāwhich meant perhaps she wasnāt just losing her mind. Or, perhaps all of them were collectively. They didĀ talk to a cat on almost a daily basis.
ā ā az -- a little while ago we were both kittens afraid of getting stoned on breeās catnip.Ā i think itās fair to say that since i came to the lair and met all of you that iāve been pretty good at suspending belief about stuff that would sound, to any other person out there... ā
one hand waves vaguely at toward the boundary of the lair.Ā the city beyond.Ā the people going about their normal, everyday lives - separate from the magic but not wholly apart from it.
ā ā ...like glitter covered whackadoo. ā
he closes the distance with a final few steps.Ā looks down with a small nod and only the slightest hint of a soft smile on his face.Ā his encounter with the shade of himself had left him reeling - not so much from the encounter, but from the implications.Ā of what might be to come... but those things would never manifest... there wouldnāt be the promised, bloodshed... if they managed to halt it in itās tracks... but that wasnāt just on him.Ā it was on all of them.
however - he canāt help but wonder at theĀ āsomething happenedā and the talk of crazy whether something similar might have happened to her.Ā some haunted shade or vision ofĀ āmoreā.
ā ā yes.Ā i promise. ā
and thereās enough sincerity in that that he hopes it comes across.Ā after all, the only way forward - avoiding the vision of the future that heād seen... or at least, the words of it told to him by - himself... is if theyāre honest.Ā if they can somehow figure out how to work together.
the house was too empty and too loud, walls that threatened to trap stretching on for miles, the juxtaposition aching in his molars and itching under his skin. too many reflections for someone who wants to shatter mirrors, opposite and the same and he thinks heās been looking at through the universe through refracted glass.
maybe thatās what he thinks, if he lets himself think, but he doesnāt, just knows that the power, that constant electric hum that sometimes drives him even more mad, is restless in his bones, calls out for an open field and the stars.
he doesnāt know any, unfortunately, so thereās no direction for the static to go, and he flees the echoes of the floorboards to the roof, to the few stars that can be seen through the light pollution.
still, too crowded, too hollow, and aeron is already sat there, turned to face him.
heās human shaped, this time, thankfully. mitch has seen in the corridors, in the brief meetings, refuses to linger for another chat after the world trip fiasco. neither of them had been on their best form, but the memories that had surfaced were refusing to sink back down, every other conversation like a ripping bandaid.Ā
he goes to disappear again, leave the man to brood, but heās already engaged in conversation, so he stills, leans forward to balance on his toes.
āĀ what do you mean?Ā ā he sees too much, refuses to see anything, warped reflections glinting in the corner of his eyes.Ā āĀ what did youĀ see?āĀ
perhaps he doesnāt need the gun.Ā heās half tempted to grab mitch and dangle him over the edge of the parapet ( if he didnāt think that the teleporter wouldnāt just zip off to places other, then he might just actually make a move to do just that ) because its - f r u s t r a t i n g - that even with everything going on, thereās still this precious fucking dance.Ā guarded and cautious and tiptoeing over broken glass and... to be quite honest, aeron is sick of it.
ā what i mean is what i said.Ā what did you see.Ā i know that people have been receivingĀ āvisitorsā - mostly themselves. or a supposed āfuture versionā. ā
itās spoken flatly.
no outward anger in the words.Ā but no humour either.
sure, some of them might be young butĀ ( no matter what his shade may have said ) - theyāre notĀ ākidsā.Ā this isnāt some playground banter with the wholeĀ āi will if you willā orĀ āyou go firstā bullshit.Ā this is important, defining, worrying.Ā and potentially disastrous - or will be, if some of them couldnāt get the fuck over themselvesĀ - actually attempt to be vaguely helpful.
ā i asked you a question. Ā either answer it or donāt. Ā itās that simple. ā
heās half expecting another parroted āwell i asked you a questionā -- but before mitch decides either way, he lays it out...
ā weāre neck deep in shit here.Ā so either we work together to figure it out - to help each other.Ā to survive whatever is coming.Ā or again... we donāt.Ā i get it.Ā youāve got issues.Ā throw a rock in this place and try to hit someone who doesnāt.Ā iām just saying that if we donāt at least - try - to deal with these things together, then nothing gets better...Ā it just gets worse. ā
Location: Lair - The roof
With:Ā OPEN STARTER - @ anyoneĀ
tw: firearms/gun
heās made his way up to the roof of the lair...Ā a vantage point from which to keep watch ( for that damned evasive crow ).Ā though the message from the shade had been clear - it wasnāt necessarilyĀ āoutwardā that he should be looking.Ā whatever was coming their way wouldnāt corrupt from beyond, but from within...Ā
...in which they were suddenly their own worst enemy.Ā Ā
not all.Ā not each individual... but some... the potential to succumb to temptation.Ā to whispered promises - or lies...Ā to glean a glimpse of things that could be - corrupt power - if they just took that step over an invisible, intangible line.
heās still looking for the crow.Ā wondering if it was still there - trapped in a hellish limbo of a torn and blooded future, but thrown into the past to watch as mistakes were repeated.Ā perhaps heād been angry, frustrated, perhaps throwing the lamp at the damn thing ( at the haunted version of himself ) might have been the best option.Ā but he hadnāt been able to bring himself to violence toward those hollow eyes... the eyes of death who had -- once again -- held the bodies of the dying and the dead...Ā who was so familiar with that violence that heād used it... in ways he can barely fathom right now.
however.Ā there is something in his possession currently that he hasnāt picked up for... some time.Ā something heād sorely hoped never to pick up again.Ā a solution to a problem that hadnāt presented yet.Ā a scythe in the hand of the reaper that walked among them.Ā -- a gun.Ā and while the soldier in him is both careful and competent... the human in him knows the complexity of physical ease and moral difficulty that pulling a trigger presents.Ā does he - once again - steep his hands in blood so they donāt have to...?
after all.Ā magic was one thing.
but those who wielded it were still distinctly human and very, very mortal.
itās... just in case.Ā right?
itās a precaution.
itās entirely possible that heās playing into the self same purportedĀ āfutureā that his crow had foretold... by picking this up, events are set into motion - heās already making choices that... he doesnāt want to have to make.
the problem is -- he doesnāt quite know who heās trying to protect... from who... or... what.
so for now - the gun idles in his hand ( with no actual intent, itās simply... there ) as he tries to think his way through an impossible fog of unknowns.Ā safety on.Ā but loaded, oiled, ready...Ā
just.Ā in.Ā case.
itās not until he hears a scuff behind him that heās half turning, a question already in his eyes, no hesitation on his lips... always to the point.
ā what did you see? ā
because, after laniās vision... and then his own āencounterā, with everyone jumping at shadows... heās damn sure heās not the only one...Ā
[ future-self event thread with mods of @arcanacouncilrpĀ - tw: death ]
At first glance, the room is the same as it looked when he left. Clean lines, no surface too cluttered, neatly made bed. For someone as observant as Aeron, though, that isnāt enough to put him at ease. Thereās a presence in the room with him when he enters. If he tries, he can catch the faintest scent of ozone lingering in the air. Perched on a curtain rod half obscured in shadow is a crow with haunted eyes. It watches Aeron carefully, distrustfully, like it knows him but does not anticipate what he will do. After several heartbeats, it opens its beak and speaks in a perfect recreation of Aeronās voice:
āIām here to warn you.ā
heās never been great at birds.
the crow though, is the easiest. Ā perhaps itās something to do with being an omen of ādeathā or⦠some other mystic type shit. Ā this one though, is not a random bird. Ā itās āhisā bird. Ā āhisā form. Ā something he recognises quite intimately. Ā but this version seems⦠polluted. Ā the sleek blue black of those wings looks - greasy - dirty oil slick staining a puddle on a filthy street. Ā like it⦠he⦠has spent his time pecking eyeballs out of corpses.
assessment:
1) Ā itās him. Ā or an apparition of him. Ā or something like that⦠impostor ( irony coming from someone whoās entire basis of magic was changing his appearance ).
2) Ā thereās a flicker of doubt. Ā heās pretty sure this is reality. Ā thereās no gunfire echoing in his ears, no blood that he can see. Ā heās not relapsing or having a flashback.
3) Ā he doesnāt trust it. Ā he doesnāt like it. Ā heās pretty close to throwing the lamp from his nightstand at it.
ā uhuh. ā
shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto the bed, as though the - other him - is nothing more than a blip.  curbing the instinct to act, to react⦠for now ( though the lamp is still a viable option ).
ā very ominous. ā
thereās a hike of brow, tongue pulling over his teeth with a click. Ā if it is ā him ā then he would know that heās not a fan of pissing about. Ā less about pulling punches, more about getting straight to the damn point.
ā soā¦? ā
The crow watches with one beady eye as Aeron absorbs the information. The warning, as it were. If a crow can look indecisive, this one does, but eventually he spreads his wings and descends from the window, dropping neatly to the floor on human legs. Itās a quick transformation, one that speaks of mastery over his talent, though he hasnāt used that apparent skill to hide timeās ravages to his appearance. His eyes are sunken, his face gaunt. Under his ragged black great coat he wears only dark colors, though none of them are dark enough to fully conceal telltale stains splashed across them. He might as well be wearing his old uniform. His hands shake every so slightly. If not for the haunted expression in his eyes, he would be a perfect mirror reflection of Aeron. Time had clearly not been kind to this version.Ā
āWar is coming,ā he says, holding Aeronās eyes with a look that says your suspicions are true.Ā
āLike none youāve seen before. Iām here to warn you, becauseā¦āĀ
He clenches his teeth, a muscle in his jaw jumping.Ā
āI tried to stop it, but I couldnāt. I only made things worse. You deserve to know whatās coming.ā
oh.
so thatās why he was the one to get the death card.
he might not be the traditional apparition of a reaper, but what aeron gazes upon now couldnāt be anything but⦠d e a t h. Ā when the āotherā aeron retakes his human form, itās a cracked reflection through that oil slick shimmer. Ā distorted and fractured. Ā stained and broken. Ā he imagines that if he looks closer, he might even see hairline cracks in his counterparts skin, a porcelain vase filled with nothing more than a haunted, bloody void.
but he got what he wanted. Ā ā straight and to the point.
even if itās not what he actually āwantedā. Ā the soldier who sought nothing but peace. Ā who had seen enough bloodshed to last him more lifetimes than heās had reincarnations. Ā the spectre of himself delivers the one message he doesnāt want to hear ā one that sends a chill down his spine, cutting at each and every nerve along the way.
ā war is always coming. ā
but the words sound weak, even to him. Ā he lacks the one thing he so often relies upon in front of the others ā conviction. Ā but if this is truly him ( and his doubt in that fades with the haunt in the others eyes ), then thereās no need for the soldiers charade. Ā itās one thing to think of a happenstance. Ā itās another entirely to look upon the aftermath of something that hasnāt yet come to be.
ā i donāt deserve anything. Ā i think we both know that. ā
but heās not about to deny whatās in front of his eyes right now. Ā while he might not deserve it, he goddamn wants to know. Ā even if the tremor in the others hand isnāt in his right now - he canāt help but feel that⦠fear⦠a knot deep down. Ā a lifetime of trauma unravelling. Ā
ā¦keep it together.
ā okay. Ā if you made it worse, then tell me how i can make it better. Ā if you came to warn me⦠us⦠then there has to be the possibility to ā change something. Ā otherwise⦠why would you⦠i⦠weā¦? ā
The reflection, if thatās what he really is, averts his eyes when Aeron speaks, instead looking off into some memory of his that renders him visibly nauseous. As if Aeronās as-yet-untarnished situation pains him. Perhaps the pain comes from remnants of hope, or perhaps there are none at all.Ā
āYouāve already seen lines being drawn,ā he says, surety in his voice like he remembers being there in Aeronās place.Ā
āSalma, Daniel, Kian - you know the tension in the air. So much more waits in the wings.āĀ
He clenches and unfurls his fists.Ā
āPlenty of other Councilors have more fight in them than they let on⦠And thatās before the rest comes.āĀ
He looks to Aeron again, his eyes half wild.Ā
āThereās so much to magic you donāt know. We didnāt, either. It tore us apart by picking at our desires and fears. Everyone wanted more. More magic, more power. I tried⦠to reason with them.āĀ
He shakes his head at his own misguided decisions.Ā
āInterfering only made it worse. You canāt fight this war, Aeron. Itās coming no matter what you do, and itās safer for you - for everyone you care about, and so many others besides - if you just⦠Donāt.ā
heād thought, at times. Ā that he was truly ruined. Ā by the things in his nightmares. Ā the flickers of flashbacks in his waking moments. Ā but he isnāt. Ā not compared to the spectre of himself that stands before him now.
āYou canāt fight this war, Aeron
itās all heās ever done. Ā fight. Ā so what does he mean⦠they canāt fight? Ā or they canāt win?
ā when were we ever ā safe? ā
thereās no turning this off. Ā no ānot beingā what he is. Ā
ā and when did we ever just ā not? ā
moments. Ā plenty of them. Ā when he could have walked away. Ā turned his back on people, places, promises. Ā could have shimmered into a crowd and never returned. Ā be somewhere else. Ā become someone else. Ā
but thereās nowhere you can go. Ā
and no one you can be. Ā
to escape yourself.
one hand swipes over his face. Ā almost surprised that he canāt feel the sharpness of his own bones beneath his skin.
ā and if we donāt fight. Ā what then? Ā it happens anyway? Ā people donāt stop just because thereās no one standing in their way. Ā you know this. Ā i know this. Ā youāve seen something - youāve done things. Ā you made choices. Ā and you know that i canāt choose that⦠i canāt just⦠walk away. Ā i wonāt. ā
ā so either - help me - make better choices. Ā help me - understand whatās coming⦠or⦠i guess iāll be here at some point, looking at myself. Ā through your eyes. ā
āIām trying to help you.āĀ
He sighs, all the fight in him long gone. He looks the part of a soldier but the set of his shoulders, the trembling in his fingers, all point to a man made captive.Ā
āThere is no stopping this. Everything is outside your control. The Council arenāt the only ones fighting, and when the others come⦠They will make you choose.āĀ
He shudders. His voice drips with guilt.Ā
āJoin the war, even only to stop it, and you will be forced to pick a side. Some of the Councilors are still barely more than kids. Standing opposite kids in war? The only thing that makes me feel less damned is the hope that they suffered less by my hand than they would have otherwise. All in the name of power and magic beyond their wildest dreams, or some shit.āĀ
He looks at Aeron, broken, beaten, ghostly.Ā
āThereās nothing you can do, Aeron. Just leave while you can. Your only other option is to submit.ā
there⦠in that moment⦠he truly doesnāt recognise the man in front of him
ā itās never been about ācontrolā. Ā itās always been about doing the right thing. ā
a bristle - an anger - something bubbling up inside as the spectre brings up kids at warā¦
ā¦how old were they when they first were sent into battle? Ā sixteen. Ā younger still by almost a decade than most people in the lair. Ā how old were the fighters they came face to face with then? Ā the footsoldiers. Ā the cannon fodder. Ā no older than him. Ā maybe younger. Ā with as much fear and fight in them. Ā and he had killed them. Ā lives cut short with the bloody roar of war in his ears, the screams of the wounded and dying. Ā the subtle silence in the aftermath. Ā only then realising that you were still breathing - hardly believing it⦠the guilt, the terror, the eternal stain on a soul - no matter how old⦠of taking anothers life.
itās a strike - a hand shoved into his gut, grabbing his insides and twisting cruelly to think that heās the one who brings ā d e a t h. Ā to them. Ā the people he might call friend. Ā somehow, he isnāt surprised. Ā
ā you seem to have gotten real good at talking about what i canāt do. Ā not what i can. Ā so if you want to avoid this - if you want to change my future, your past. Ā then tell me whatās coming. donāt tell me to run. Ā donāt tell me to surrender. Ā tell me what the fuck it is and ā S T O P ā ā
ā ā with the fucking pity party. Ā because while you might have given up on yourself - no matter what, what we have to do, what it does to us - we have never - EVER - given up onĀ them. Ā ā
āWhat if the only right thing there is to do is go?ā he asked, a sharper edge to his voice.Ā
āIām not saying itās admirable, or good. Iām not saying anything Iāve done is good. But when your options are that limited? Doing nothing is better than bowing under pressure.āĀ
He clenches his fists at his sides.Ā
āThings not of this world are coming. I canāt tell you much more than that.āĀ
He looks almost apologetic, like he wants to tell. Like he knows it would make all the difference, but the words wonāt come.Ā
āThey know of magic you cannot fathom, and they shared that knowledge with the others - and some took the bait. Fell prey to mistakes our originals made. I didnāt want to give up on them, and truly, I never did. Maybe⦠Well. I have no proof things would go better for you if you did, so I wonāt tell you that.āĀ
He shakes his head again, his eyes darkening under the shadows of his memories.Ā
āRun. Surrender. I donāt know what else there is for you to try. Seize the magic before anyone else, I suppose. Try to fight the fight all on your own. But I donāt see that as anything other than suicide.ā
ā ā what if? Ā uhuh, and āwhat ifā itās not. ā
heās irritated. Ā heās fed up of people not pulling their goddamn weight and right now, the main culprit seems to be himself.
ā ā then whatās the point? Ā really? Ā why are you here? Ā who exactly do you think youāre helping? Ā what do you think youāre changing? Ā because so far youāve given me a grand total of jack-shit to go on. Ā other than ārun awayā. Ā which, if you are me, you know wonāt happen anyway so⦠what. Ā is. Ā the. Ā point. Ā of. Ā this? Ā ā
his tongue clicks across his teeth, he canāt even feel sorry for this supposed other version of himself. Ā because he never has before and he doesnāt understand when the hell that might have started.
ā ā timing is impeccable by the way. Ā you couldnāt have made it a few weeks ago? Ā because if there are things coming. Ā as you say. Ā then now might be just about the perfect opportunity to sow a few seeds. Ā plant a little doubt. Ā start a wheel spinning in a certain direction. ā
less convinced. Ā if this is really a future version of himself then he doesnāt understand the aversion. Ā even with the guilt of death on his hands ( something neither of them are unfamiliar with by this point ), then he would know the only way to plan a counterstrike is with some kind of viable intelligence and so far, thereās nothing⦠concrete. Ā just vague references to horror and war⦠again⦠not unfamiliar.
ā ā if you really want things to be different. Ā then give me ā something. ā
ā¦or take your own advice. Ā and run.
He's silent for several beats, the quiet stretching between them, separating them. They are not the same, that is apparent. This version of Aeron couldn't look any lonelier if he tried, though, and that's probably for the best. Wallowing is not helpful for either of them.Ā
"There's more to magic than just our powers," he says at last.Ā
"Magic is part of this world. Everyone should be able to access it with the right tools. But... The Council can't handle that kind of free power. Justice, Nadine, Marcella, they need to be checked with it. If you see them dabbling in old ways or dealing with creatures that promise them more, you've come upon a choice."Ā
He shrugs one shoulder.Ā
"Stop them. Learn the new magic for yourself. Leave. Whatever you think is best. I couldn't help myself, so... maybe you have a point. I may not be of any use to you."Ā
With that he heads toward the door, his eyes downcast. He's broken, caved to the monster he thinks he is, or to those who attack from the outside - who's the say which is worse? At the door he stops, his voice low.Ā
"I never tried to take charge. Never thought myself worthy of leading or organizing them or, whatever it is they wanted. I doubt you want that. I guess the only other option I see is to try to intervene in the magic yourself, before it can worm its way into their minds and poison them... But it's a tough thing, to work alone."
DATE: July 6th, late afternoon.
LOCATION: The garden
@ anyone
Everything looked the same as it had over two weeks ago, sun-drenched and exploding with life with no parallel on earth. The most beautiful place sheād ever seen with one notable exception: the jagged ridge of solid rock that ripped through the center of the otherwise serene garden, a great scar of brown and grey amid a sea of dazzling, endless color. This was the first time Azra dared visit the place since she spoke to the monster with her face. She feared if she returned on her own, it would appear again, violent and angry with intentions of making her suffer for her misstep.Ā
Azra stood on the edge of the garden, shoulders lifted tensely as she held her breath and waited for an ambush that never happened. Time ticked on but nothing appeared, and so her shoulders dropped and she tentatively stepped closer to the ridge of sharp rocks. Where she managed to mostly repair the damage she did to the lair itself, she couldnāt bring herself to fix this too, and so it remained, a permanent, ugly monument to her own cowardice. She deserved it, in her mind.
Hesitantly, she reached towards the wall and brushed the top ridge of a lower portion with her fingertips. Sharp and rocky, nothing unusual save its very sudden appearance. The last time she was here, frost licked the top in spindly white patterns, and the cold air stung with every inhale. Now with the temperature in the mid-90s and DCās natural humidity, the rocks felt hot to the touch, sun-warmed and absent of any evidence of their frigid beginnings.
A sound behind her caught her attention and she whirled, ready to bolt, only to recognize the approaching figure.Ā āYou scared me,ā she said, her voice weaker than she would have liked.
ā ā i scare a lot of people.Ā canāt for the life of me figure out why. ā
itās spoken with a slightly wry turn to his words - idling at the edge of the garden for a moment, eyes not cast in azraās direction just yet.Ā as though heās looking for something on the periphery
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā --( actually, itās exactly that - considering thatās precisely what heās doing... watching out for that flicker of a shade, a black smudge, oil slick wings - a crow... his crow... and it was probably something that would be considered the height of madness if he wasnāt 100% sure that it had actually happened.Ā )--
everyone seemed more and more on edge.Ā with each passing event, thereās another thing going awry in the world of magic - in the lives of the magicians - in the root of this thing that theyāre all somehow tied to.Ā but he remembers the words of the shade... that power is poison... not the magic, but the temptations that surround it.Ā even the names of those who might be most tempted... names he doesnāt utter, but bares careful mind to.Ā even if he doesnāt know absolutely whatās coming - only the warning that something - is - coming, he darenāt take any chances.
however --
Ā Ā Ā -- thereās nothing on the periphery... no sign ofĀ āanotherā aeron...Ā
...but no - he thinks she might be lying.Ā not outright, but certainly in part.Ā heās not the one who scared her.Ā sheās scared - of that sudden, unannounced presence.Ā as though she might have been expecting another -- less welcome one.
ā ā you sure? ā
a hike of brow as he finally turns to look at her -Ā