Keeping up appearences
And we have fic from the aftermath of the Dirt Player Event, in which Ischarion talked far too much and was under the effects of Desire the entire time.
++++
My thoughts, like my mind, can be fragmented.
Sometimes I can keep the appearance of a normal Winged.
I can smile faintly, tilt my head just a touch, remain neutral, ask questions, do business. Those things are easy. Occasionally I will even chuckle, if you see that you have truly amused me. My expressions and reactions tend to be muted, I do not quite get things like a normal Winged would, or how I imagine a normal winged does anyway.
I lost that a long time ago when my mask became an impenetrable shield, the boy distancing himself from the world behind porcelain.
Esca is the one who smiles and laughs and dances. She is the one who swears and flips people off, she's the one who tells me to get a grip on myself and keep going.
There is no question that I am the core, that I am in control and that we care for each other. But I know that she will always have my back and that I will smooth over her mistakes and let her laugh if she wishes.
Sometimes it is not easy to pretend to be normal. Sometimes I cannot cover the Desire, the River that floods through my veins and roars in my mind. Sometimes my fist clenches, trying to grab someone who isn't there, looking for an outlet, I cannot keep still, heat, Desire. I am River and Wellspring and I strain against these damn bonds that hold me back!
I can hear myself hissing slightly as I breathe out, unable to hold it back, unable to stop, the most I can do to contain it is pace in a circle. My body is not quite mine at that point and as soon as those idiots get back I am going to...
No. Control, restraint, re-tie the ribbon, do not let the storm and flood and fire reach your eyes. Though it is probably that which results in telling him quite so much. I need an outlet, the intellectual conversation with someone who can actually damn well think suffices, who will listen and ask questions and try to see, it does not matter much who.
It is a refreshing break from the press of the Desire and I find myself seeking it often.
This does not mean I will not be finding a more physical outlet for some of this Desire on my return to the Riverstates, but knowing that I can alleviate it with discussion is useful.
Minds are so beautiful, why can people not see intelligence when it dances in someone's eyes? How can people not be attracted to it?
(We really do have a weakness for Corvids, don't we?)
(No shit? I still reckon it's the black and white, and the lighter hair.)
(Esca...)
The Ischarion you know is reserved, calm and distant, that is the mask, painted to match my face, a mask in spirit as well as in physicality. Without my mask...
Without my mask I an undefended, people can see me blush. Without my mask I get confused, I wonder if I have even grown, it is like... It is like I am that boy who lost his dear Cassie again. I do not know how to deal with things though I know I still have my knowledge and experience, that I have not changed, that I simply do not have my grounding, my distance, my shield. That I have no defence against... I am not sure what. My own emotions perhaps.
It can be terrifying if I'm not careful, if I look at people and they look at me, see me, not my mask, see that boy... I cannot cope with it and nearly fumble to reach for contact of the person that has made me feel safe enough to be able to take it off. Everything is too close, too loud, too immediate, my expression too open, everyone can see it, I've nowhere to hide and no time to think and-
I panic and I try to hide. Just a boy, just a boy who cannot cope. I cannot allow that weakness to show in front of others at the parliament. That.. that happens when I do not wear my mask. Cassie never mocked me for it, she let me laugh and relax, she didn't mind me stumbling and liked me to smile.
... I've not thought about her like that for a while. Perhaps it is because I took my mask off.
... I wonder if I can take it off more in front of people.