~ Tнє Pαяα∂σχ Hσυѕє ~ now back to regularly scheduled chaos

While Orpheus was reluctant to take L’s shirt, they had to admit that L had a good argument. That, and they really were rather chilly. But mostly that L was just as persuasive as Orpheus was, if not moreso. He knew exactly what to say, and he relied on facts and logic. Facts and logic were hard to get around. Emotions could be forced past.
Quietly, Orpheus took the shirt and slipped it over their head, hugging their arms close to their chest in an attempt to hold onto the heat L had infused in the shirt. It was comfortable, if only because it was L’s. If only because L was comforting to Orpheus. A reminder that there was someone out there who was willing to help, even at a person loss to themself. The reasons Orpheus appreciated L were so numerous as to be impossible to count.
“Thank you,” they murmured after a moment, soaking in the warmth from the shirt. It didn’t immediately cut through the chill of the room, but it did a surprisingly good job of it. They let their eyes close for just a moment, then opened them again. They were having a serious conversation. Orpheus wasn’t going to interrupt that with their moment of appreciation (though they were grateful that they were expressive enough with their emotions that L could probably tell how much they appreciated his sacrifice).
If Orpheus had known huddling was an option, they may have mentioned it. They weren’t yet aware of L’s boundaries and limitations when it came to physical touch, and they didn’t want to cross any of those unspoken lines. Besides, if they were going to do it, it was probably less for the getting warm factor than it was for the ability to be close to someone they had come to consider a best friend.
“You… didn’t tell me about the first arena room,” they murmured after a moment.

Nico listened, then gave a sharp nod, grateful for the information. It wasn’t exactly useful outside of this room, but Nico believed that almost every skill was transferrable. Whatever he learned here he could apply to his own powers. He could use to change how he navigated the world. He would take what was helpful to him about Allomancy and apply it to his real powers. Hopefully, some of it would actually end up being transferrable. The good news was that Nico did usually have the power to tweak emotions a little bit. The hard part was that he didn’t actually know how to control the aura of fear and death he exuded. He usually just tried to constrain it within himself so that he wouldn’t be too off-putting to everyone he met. Although… a little off-putting was usually a good thing.
“I see,” he murmured after a moment, then reached for the zinc. He considered Kelsier for a few moments, trying to gauge how he was feeling. Excited to be in a room that didn’t seem dangerous, probably. Curious about it, too… and probably at least a little bit proud. A small smile touched Nico’s lip and he very gently Pulled at Kelsier’s curiosity. If he was delicate enough, would Kelsier be curious enough to try some of Nico’s powers?

Orpheus had to admit they were always a little impressed by the fact L knew how many blinks he’d had. They supposed that it was the sort of thing you didn’t stop counting once you had started. They didn’t know when they had lost track. Perhaps around their fifth or sixth blink? There had been some quick blinks in there, where they hadn’t been there for a whole room or even a whole conversation. They weren’t sure those counted as true blinks, but they had made it difficult to tell exactly how many blinks they’d had. They didn’t think they really minded, though. Counting blinks was something that suited L much more than it suited them. They pushed the thought away, instead curling in on themself and pulling their knees to their chest as they listened to what L had to say. They realized that they were probably still dripping water on the couch from their pants, but they weren’t entirely sure they cared. If the House didn’t want them to drip on its furniture, it shouldn’t have blinked them in soaking wet.
“Some things that happened a very long time ago can still affect you,” Orpheus replied after a moment, remembering the first time they had heard music. It was a much more pleasant situation than whatever the first arena room was, but they had a feeling it was similar in that it had changed how they reacted to things forever.
“You say first… the second arena room, then, that was the one where there was a viewing room, right?” Orpheus had an awful feeling they were right with that guess. Which meant the story they were about to hear was incredibly unpleasant. They would listen to it and be there for L as best they could.

Nico extinguished the zinc, a small smile crossing his expression at Kelsier’s praise. If he were honest, he hadn’t expected to be very good at Allomancy. Not that he’d had much time to form any expectations. It was just that… when he had first been learning to use his own powers, he hadn’t been very good at using them. He hadn’t had as good a mentor as Kelsier, of course, but… he thought that learning most powers was probably like that. There was probably a period of time when it was hard and things weren’t working out exactly how you wanted them to. He pushed the thought away, instead focusing on Kelsier’s expression. The praise hadn’t been forced, it seemed, though Nico was always a little bit suspicious when someone gave him praise. He’d been taught that you really had to earn praise. It always surprised him when it came easily.
“I’m sure I’d love him, too,” Nico replied, crossing his arms and meeting Kelsier’s eyes before he allowed his own to drift to the ground.
“In all seriousness, though… your turn. If you want to try some of my powers, I mean. They aren’t all potentially life-ending. Besides, it’s not like you’ve used any of my powers before. Overuse probably isn’t something you even have to worry about.” He had to admit he wanted to keep playing around with Allomancy, but fair was fair. That, and he really wanted to see what Kelsier would do with his powers. He had a feeling Kelsier would be able to utilize them to their full dramatic potential. It wasn’t something Nico had practiced much other than the occasional well-timed and artfully dramatic entrance.

Orpheus had been through their fair share of rooms that couldn’t exactly be called pleasant. They had been lucky, though. They hadn’t died, even once. They had seen others die, of course. They had watched them come back to life… it appeared that the arena room was both of their first introductions to death in the House, though L’s experience had happened long before Orpheus’. It was hard to imagine L as a newer blinker. It was hard to imagine him without the experience and expertise he had gained through his many, many blinks. Time in the House was weird, but… it had barely been seventy blinks since the first arena room. If a blink was about comparable to a day, that was only two months or so since it had happened. It took much longer to recover from things than that. It was no wonder that L was still feeling the effects of it.
Orpheus listened patiently, not wanting to rush L through it. It was clear he was having a hard time… Orpheus gently rested their hand on top of L’s, trying to make him feel like he was a little bit less alone. He may have been more or less alone when it had actually happened, but right now, L wasn’t’ alone. He wasn’t ever going to be alone again if Orpheus could do anything about it. If they managed to make the House fair… well, there would never be any rooms like that again.
L, in Orpheus’ experience, didn’t tend to go on too many tangents. He wasn’t always perfectly to the point, but he did always get the point, even if his brain didn’t work in a linear fashion. It seemed to work more linearly than Orpheus’, which was why it was a surprise to the poet that L kept going off on tangents now. It must have been hard to remember. Orpheus still remembered what L had told them that very first blink. People died. The House wasn’t fair. L had died. There was no question that was where this story was going.
How much of L’s paranoia could be attributed to Myrnin? How much less did he trust since being killed once, by someone who was acting in a friendly manner? Orpheus bit their lip, doing their best not to cast judgement on Myrnin. They had met Myrnin only once since watching the vampire kill Kelsier, and they had been told that Myrnin wasn’t a bad person. They had a hard time believing that. Orpheus had made a good many acquaintances in the House, but they had really only made a handful of true friends. Myrnin had the blood of two of them on his hands. It was hard not to blame him for that.
“I don’t care about his reasons,” Orpheus murmured after a long moment, giving a firm shake of their head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know if he ever said that to you, but… even if he did, you deserve to hear it said again. That wasn’t right.” It did, however, explain a lot. Primarily L’s reaction to Hook pinning him.
“I… don’t want to believe anything similar will happen again,” they managed, trying to catch L’s gaze, “but if something does… what’s the most helpful thing I can do for you in that situation?”

Nico glanced up, then at Kelsier’s pocket. He was tempted, of course, but… this room wasn’t all about him learning to be Mistborn. This room had given Kelsier his powers for a reason. Which meant that Kelsier should probably have a chance to use them, especially if they were here for a limited time. Nico knew from experience how short blinks could be, and he didn’t want to deprive Kelsier of the change to try some things out. Besides, he was curious how Kelsier would use his powers. Kelsier had only seen Nico trying to conserve his powers, which meant he had no idea the full scale of what Nico could do. Now would be an interesting room to try to push each other’s powers to the limit.
“We can do both if you hurry up and try to do something cool,” Nico retorted, crossing his arms and pointedly not burning any metals. Not that Kelsier would be able to tell, of course. Nico was the one with bronze. Besides… Kelsier had seemed nervous about using Allomancy after the last time. Nico wasn’t sure he was entirely keen on using it if it might hurt Kelsier… although… this might be a good room to do it in. If Nico accidentally took demigod powers away from Kelsier for good, they would just switch back powers as soon as they blinked back anyway.

L Lawliet | Living Room | strider

L glanced down at Orpheus’ hand, noting it in a detached sort of way. He never really knew how to deal with these sorts of things, things that he normally needed to ignore his own feelings about, but in this case, he didn’t. His cases were intense, they all were. Catching criminals may have sounded like a cool job when you were a kid, but once you actually began to pull it off, you quickly came to understand that it wasn’t quite as it seemed in books and movies.
“He did make some good points when we talked about it afterwards,” he admitted, his voice quiet, almost as though he was half hoping Orpheus wouldn’t even hear him. “About me personally, I mean. You’re his exact opposite when it comes to actions, but I think you see the House closer to the way he does than the way I always have. He didn’t see it as a puzzle to be solved, or a case with a solution to be found. He just saw the people and the ways they could be hurt, and he tried to protect them from the House in the only way he could think of.”
He wasn’t meaning to rationalize it or make excuses, especially when Myrnin himself had made such a point of not doing that. But it didn’t feel fair to not give Myrnin’s side of the story too. And he really had been right about the mystery room, which had been directly connected with the first arena room for L…L knew he had made a lot of mistakes there because he’d been too busy worrying about Myrnin to realize he was thinking like a detective instead of a blinker. The vampire had been right to call him out for that. He’d tried to do better, but he knew he still tended to work more towards solving rooms than protecting the blinkers inside them.
He breathed out, letting his shoulders relax, his gaze softening as he observed the poet’s hand. He could see the calluses from playing on the tips of their fingers. He could see where the raw parts had started to heal, though they clearly hadn’t been able to rest their fingers as much as L would have advised.
When he glanced up to meet their eyes again, his mask had faded. It probably wasn’t the first time - when he had been half frozen, when he had fallen asleep after their chess match, when they had come out to each other - but it was perhaps the most intentional one so far. He didn’t want to freeze himself, even if he usually did at this point in any given conversation.
Their question hit him, and he hesitated, eyes widening a little. It was unexpected, even if it shouldn’t have been.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted after a moment, shifting a little closer to them, and not just because he knew it might help warm them up more. “If it happens again while you’re there, you could be in danger too, so…in that case, keep yourself safe first. I also might not be able to speak, at least verbally. I suppose there’s no way you know sign language…”

“That doesn’t mean he did it the right way,” Orpheus replied firmly, their eyes narrowing just a little bit. They weren’t intense in the way a lot of people were. They weren’t necessarily a presence whenever they walked into a room (unless they were playing a song, then it was hard for them not to draw attention to themself), but they were firm in making up their mind and rarely found a reason to change it. They were open to changing it, of course, but it would take a damn good reason to make them reconsider.
The point was, they weren’t sure they agreed with Myrnin in the slightest. Even if the House wasn’t something that could be solved, there was no problem for which killing everyone else was a good solution. Orpheus knew there were some situations where it was kinder to let someone die rather than force them to go through pain, but in their opinion, that decision should always be made by the person whose life was at stake. Not someone who had decided that they knew better than everyone else.
“I’m not questioning that it was a desperate situation. I know that when the world feels like it’s falling apart, there are decisions that have to be made, and they’re not always the easiest ones. But I also believe that killing everyone else was the wrong solution. And… as your friend… I think I have every right to be upset with Myrnin about it. He was wrong to kill you. He was wrong to put you through that, even if he explained himself.” Orpheus didn’t think they would ever truly get along with Myrnin. They didn’t seem to think eye to eye, though their direct contact with Myrnin was incredibly limited. Did Myrnin know that Orpheus didn’t like him very much? Somehow, Orpheus doubted it. Maybe it was because they didn’t know Myrnin… they pushed the thought away. They weren’t changing their mind on this.
“I understand,” they murmured after a moment, “but I hope you know that I won’t leave you vulnerable, if we’re both in danger. Still… I get what you’re saying.” They bit their lip, thinking for a moment before their eyes met L’s again.
“I’ve never heard of sign language,” Orpheus admitted with an uncertain sort of shrug. “But… I would like to learn, if that would help you in situations like that.”

Nico hadn’t meant to set Kelsier up for failure. To be fair, he hadn’t actually told Kelsier how to shadow travel yet. That wasn’t what he was planning on having him try first, but Kelsier being Kelsier… it seemed he misunderstood the difference between pewter and shadow travel. Which, to be fair, was something Nico didn’t quite understand either. Shadow travel was like moving very fast, while you were in the shadows. If you were running when you went in, it felt for a heartbeat like you were running very fast, but you came out the other side in the same stride you had been taking when you went in. It was much, much faster than pewter, even flared pewter. Not that Nico really understood that yet – he hadn’t tried pewter yet. He had seen how Kelsier used it, and he could infer a great deal from how Kelsier used the shadows.
“The skeletons were done well,” he commented, moving forward and holding out a hand for Kelsier to help himself up if he needed. He hoped Kelsier’s pride hadn’t been too crushed by the fall. He would understand if it had been, but… something told Nico that it would take more than a little fall to completely kill Kelsier’s pride. How many times had he fallen when training with Gemmel, after all?
There were similarities and differences between Allomancy and Nico’s powers. Getting to know each other’s powers meant getting to know each other. Getting to know the way they had each been forced to see the world in order to navigate it with their particular skillsets.
“Think of shadow travel like a door, next time,” Nico said after a moment. “You’re really only in the shadows for a moment, maybe two. It’s not more than a heartbeat. You can’t gather momentum when you step through a doorway, you can really only come out of it with the same momentum you went in with. It feels like you’re going fast when you’re in the shadows, but that doesn’t carry over when you become solid again. It’s… a little bit hard to get used to. And the exhaustion that comes after it is pretty bad, too. Sorry. I would’ve warned you if I had known you were going to jump straight into shadow travel.” Would Kelsier tolerate ambrosia in this state? Nico wasn’t entirely certain, but he didn’t want to risk it. They had swapped powers, but that didn’t mean they had swapped cell composition. Neither of them were safe taking ambrosia in this room. It could easily kill either of them if the wrong one took it. Which meant that neither of them could afford to get seriously hurt.
“Are you tired?” Nico asked after a moment, taking a seat beside Kelsier. He wanted to practice with more metals, but after watching Kelsier’s spectacular crash with shadow travelling, he figured it would be best for them both to specifically instruct each other before either of them took a risk like that again. “I passed out for a week after I shadow travelled the first time. But… if you’re tired, that means you can try out another one of my powers. Did you know I can influence dreams?” Nico wasn’t entirely certain Kelsier had been aware of that particular power. Well… he might have a chance to try it out, now. “Not my own, unfortunately. But other people’s.”

Orpheus didn’t know anything about Myrnin beyond what they had observed and what they had been told. They would have to make further judgments when they actually were forced to spend time with him, but until then… they were content to believe that they wouldn’t get along with Myrnin. It would be hypocritical of them to act friendly to Myrnin in situations where they acted similarly, especially when they knew what Myrnin was capable of in the right situation. L had died at Myrnin’s hands. So had Kelsier. It didn’t matter whether either had forgiven him. What mattered was that they had lost their lives, quite possibly for the first time. Orpheus had never died. They didn’t know how that tended to stick with a person, but they did know that it wasn’t something that you could easily just… shake off. Even if Kelsier’s death had been a misunderstanding, L’s was proof that Myrnin could be cruel at times. It proved that he believed he had the right to decide who lived and who died. Even if he thought that everyone he killed was going to come back. L had taught Orpheus that there was no guarantee of that.
“I’m sorry,” Orpheus said after a moment, searching L’s expression. “I know that doesn’t change what happened. I know it doesn’t make it easier. But I am. And… I’m sorry I didn’t know how to help, in that room with Hook. Thank you for telling me. Thank you for making sure I’m able to help you next time.”
They leaned back a little bit, tugging at the sleeves of L’s shirt so as to make the t-shirt equivalent of sweater paws. The shirt was warm and it felt like L. They were tempted to make it as cozy as possible.
“I see,” they murmured, stretching their hands so the sleeves went back to normal before they did their best to replicate the signs L had just made with his hands. “Like that?”

Orpheus couldn’t imagine how difficult it had been for L to live through. Death wasn’t something Orpheus had experienced yet, though they knew it was likely only a matter of time in the House. There were rooms that were specifically formulated to take victims, and luck could only keep you alive for so long. If Orpheus was lucky, they wouldn’t die for a while. They were under no illusions that they’d never die in the House, at least as long as the House persisted in being unfair. So they needed to change it. Not just to save their own skin, but to make sure that fewer people left with mental scars of the kind L had.
Of course… it hadn’t been the House who had killed L. It hadn’t been the House who had strangled L in the most recent room. Orpheus may not have known why Hook became violent as quickly as he had, but they weren’t convinced it was entirely the House’s doing. Hook seemed volatile enough on his own, though Orpheus hadn’t interacted much with the pirate outside of the room. He hadn’t really interacted with the pirate at all outside of the room.
Belaboring the point and talking to L about how unfair it all was didn’t seem the most productive use of time, though. L already knew it was unfair. He had lived through it. He hadn’t told Orpheus just so Orpheus could tell him it wasn’t fair.
“Like this?” Orpheus asked, doing his best to fix their hand placement in the second sign. They let their hand drop to the side when they finished, then gave a small nod. “How do you say ‘any time’ in sign language?”

Orpheus copied the signs once more, though their fingers were rather clumsier than L’s. It was just that they had never practiced such positions before. Fortunately, they already had the required hand flexibility from playing so consistently for their whole life. There were few shapes that would be required in sign that they couldn’t do.
“I mean it,” Orpheus said after a brief pause, searching L’s eyes. “Any time. I will be here to listen and support you, and do everything I can to make things easier in the future. You don’t have enough of it in your world, if you ask me. I know you have Watari, but… I wish I could help there, too. Since I can’t… I need you to know that I will help here as much as I possibly can.” They shifted just a little bit closer to L, hoping the detective wouldn’t mind. L had been the one to shift closer just moments before, so it seemed that the distance between them was land that could be crossed, not a firm border. Orpheus had never really had friends with which to be physically affectionate, but they found they were grateful L was receptive to it.
“I’d like to learn, if you wouldn’t mind teaching me,” Orpheus admitted after a moment, tilting their head just a little. “I would try to learn on my own, but I don’t believe it exists in my world.”

L wasn’t prone to flowery words or dramatic declarations. That was one way Orpheus knew they differed as people. Orpheus spoke almost entirely in metaphor and flowery language, while L was far more straight to the point. It was a combination of how they saw the world and the image that they tried to present to it. L wore a mask much more often than Orpheus did, though Orpheus had found that the man under the mask was very similar to the way L presented himself to the world. The difference was that the mask was colder than L was, truly. The mask pretended it didn’t care. Orpheus knew L well enough to know that he did care. Far more than he wanted others to know.
It wasn’t a surprise, then, that L tried to articulate his feelings now. Orpheus wasn’t expecting anything flowery or metaphoric. They hadn’t really expected anything at all other than perhaps a brief acknowledgement that they were in this together. That they were friends, and that was enough.
Best friends.
Somehow, the term still meant something even when both of them really only had one friend. The number of friends didn’t take away from the meaning of having a best friend.
“I’m glad to know you, too,” Orpheus whispered, lightly nudging L with their shoulder. “I think we both got very lucky. You are… better than even the best friend I could imagine having. And I really do want to be able to help. I think, though, I’d like to learn sign language even if it wasn’t possible it would come in handy. If it was your first language, I mean. I didn’t get to be part of your life when it was. The least I can do is speak your mother tongue.”

L Lawliet | Living Room | strider

It wasn’t exactly a separate identity, the mask. He didn’t tend to fake who he was, or what he thought, not unless it was about things he felt. He didn’t need to hide his mind…that was why anyone cared about his existence in the first place. Masking it wouldn’t do anyone any good. And he didn’t think he’d be all that good at pretending to be someone else, anyway. He had never blended in before, and it wasn’t always for lack of trying.
No…he had to hide his heart. He had to act as though he didn’t feel, as though none of it could really touch him. It was necessary - people he cared for could be in danger because of him, he could be in danger because of them, not to mention the obvious risk of anyone knowing how to get to him even if it had nothing to do with anyone he loved - but it wasn’t always because of that, either.
Sometimes…it was for himself. A sign that he was turning himself off for his own protection, or so he didn’t let small, insignificant things like fear or pain stop him from staying in the game. A way to convince even himself that it hadn’t gotten anywhere near him.
But he did care, here. He cared about Orpheus, and admitting it to himself felt both exhilarating and terrifying, all at once. Caring for someone was frightening, but…maybe this, maybe being cared for just as much in return was worth it.
“I’d like that quite a bit,” he admitted, giving a tiny sigh. “But, if I teach you sign language, then you’ll have to permit me to learn Greek, as well. With the translator, I suppose you can’t teach me, but I can learn it in my own world well enough.”