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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Apr 1, 2020 0:08:46 GMT -5
Orpheus wasn’t sure what to expect when it came to staying with L. He had spent the better part of the last several years travelling, trying to find a way, somehow, to save Eurydice. Trying to keep himself sane. He had tried to avoid staying in one place for too long, but L’s offer had been too good to pass up. Besides, even with his music it felt that the longer time went on, the more zombies they were and the harder they were to ward against. Maybe, if L was right, they could find a way to fix it all. Orpheus’ music, whatever fascinating ideas L had wrapped up in his head. It was before dawn, and Orpheus hadn’t been able to sleep well. What lay ahead wasn’t all hidden cans of peaches and the taste of something sweeter than he’d had in months. What lay ahead wasn’t L’s smile when he had offered to have Orpheus stay, when they had decided to work together. Even when Orpheus had decided to make it fun. He could try, but he wasn’t a fool. What lay ahead was difficult and it would likely end in disappointment. The poet stared out the window, watching the sun rise. There was a time when he would have held a steaming hot mug of tea and watched the same thing, bent over a blank sheet half scribbled with notes and words when he should have been doing schoolwork. Things were simpler then, and Orpheus almost wished he could go back. He tried not to have regrets, but he did have doubts. Things he wished he had done better, things he never deserved to have that he should have appreciated more. Perhaps the sunrise made him maudlin. Perhaps it was the knowledge that they had a long path ahead of them. They could make it better – of that Orpheus was sure – but he wasn’t sure he was ready to discover what it cost. Orpheus shook his head. He would pay the price, and he would make the world better. He and L together. Maybe it was arrogant, but he knew he could do it. Maybe he’d get away without having to pay for it, too. Maybe he and L could take back what had been taken from them – from all of humanity. A smile flitted across Orpheus’ face, and he pulled out the pencil he tended to carry with him, itching to jot something down. He already had ideas. It may have just been the notes that did the trick, maybe just the instrument, but in Orpheus’ mind the words had to mean something too. The words had to be worthy of saving the world.
If Noah had known what Ronan was thinking, he would have told him he was wrong. He would have told him that no matter how hard Ronan pretended, he wasn’t what other people thought he was. Weapons didn’t look at their old friend and give sharp smiles that promised more than they took away. Weapons didn’t have places so full of life to retire to, because they had turned their back on life. Weapons didn’t fight for their friends, they only fought for themselves. Even if Ronan thought that last part was true for himself, Noah would have told him he was wrong. That sometimes an outside perspective will tell your exactly when you’re being stupid, when you’re so blinded by what other people think of you that you can’t see the truth. In much the same way that Noah was blind to many of his own assets, he could see Ronan’s extraordinarily well. Ronan would have flayed him alive for even daring to think it, but Noah knew Ronan was a softie, deep down. Like a sour patch kid that had been deep fried in melted warheads. Frightening on the outside, a trait he purposefully exaggerated and amplified, but kind and loyal and warm on the inside. Noah hasn’t appreciated that about Ronan until he’d been with Whelk. Ronan was what a best friend was supposed to be, though he looked like the type to push his friends down in front of zombies. Looks could be deceiving, Noah mused. The light was entrancing. The light promised something Noah hadn’t let himself think about in ages. He didn’t want to see it alone, he was so grateful Ronan was there besides him. And then Ronan’s hand was in his, warm against Noah’s cold. He hadn’t been able to get the circulation flowing normally since the bite, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud. He was just grateful for the grounding force that was Ronan. As often as he could fly off the rails, be reckless and dangerous, he wasn’t always that. While Noah was air, always air, always seconds away from drifting away entirely, Ronan could be either fire or earth. Sometimes they stoked each other, flames rising higher and higher, fed by the inexhaustible air around them, sometimes Ronan anchored Noah. Now was one of those times. He trusted Ronan not to let go. Not to let him drift away. Shock spread across Noah’s features as his eyes adjusted to the light. Of course he had known that in the absence of humanity the Earth had started to reclaim itself, but this… he hadn’t been prepared to see it. It was like Noah stopped breathing, afraid that even that tiny sound, that tiny motion, would disrupt the paradise they now found themselves in. His gaze drifted up, then, and he had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep from gasping. Even that couldn’t hide the grin that had spread across his face. “I dreamed about something like this, once,” Noah murmured, not knowing what those words might mean to Ronan. Thousands of birds flying across the sky, wings eclipsing the sun before they passed, swirling in the air and circling around again. The sunlight dappling the ground below them, creating patterns that never stopped shifting. Noah was pretty certain he was going to cry. Noah’s grip had tightened around Ronan’s hand, and by the time he managed to tear his gaze away and meet Ronan’s blue eyes – not ice anymore, but something softer – there was water glistening in his own eyes. No, the boy who had shown him this, who had taken him here of all places, was no more a weapon than Noah himself was. “I didn’t think anything like this existed,” he admitted quietly. Selfishly, a thought only for himself, he wished that if he got to choose where and when he turned for good, he would choose here. Not now, of course. But eventually. He wanted his last human memory to be light and birdsong.
“I would’ve tried to leave by now if I was just going to waste your time like that,” Crutchie replied, as though that should have been obvious. Why would he stick around if he was just going to be a drain on Sherlock’s resources? Besides, he doubted he would have stayed with Sherlock after their first conversation if he didn’t actually have a reason to. He had a feeling it would take a while to warm to the detective. “No tingling or numbness yet,” he replied, then reconsidered. “They are a little bit cold, I guess.” It wasn’t that he expected Sherlock to list every single possible side effect, just that he hoped Sherlock would at least mention some of the big, possibly long term things so Crutchie would at least know what he was getting into. The good news was that Sherlock at the very least seemed reasonable. Things that were common decency to Crutchie didn’t even seem to cross Sherlock’s mind, but when they were brought up the detective wasn’t cruel about them. He was almost understanding. Almost. A little bit of tingling in his fingers would be tolerable. Potentially permanent blindness was a thought that terrified him, but that he’d be willing to shoulder once they were close enough to a cure – or the type of poison Sherlock was looking for – that it would actually make a difference rather than just being a shot in the dark. “Let’s just hope I don’t sneeze, then,” Crutchie replied wryly, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. It seemed ridiculous to end up with a broken rib just from sneezing, but Crutchie supposed the human body was weird and it was probably for the best not to question it. “I’d ask if you had a medical degree, but I don’t think that really matters anymore.” Not that the doctors Crutchie remembered from when he was young had been much help. They’d barricaded him in with his parents as they were turning, and it was only once they realized he had actually recovered that they let him back out. Sherlock was a good deal more competent than those doctors had been. “No sh*t,” Crutchie said, raising an eyebrow. “Doesn’t matter of you’re the test subject or not. You’re still human and you should definitely eat the other half of this.” Crutchie wasn’t keen on giving the other half up, but he’d rather that than deal with Sherlock starving himself accidentally. If Sherlock died, any chance they had at fixing this all was gone with him. And if Sherlock was keen on not eating, or if he forgot often… that wasn’t a risk Crutchie was willing to take.
It was becoming increasingly apparent that of all of the people – however many were left – that could have wandered into the convenience store where Nico had gotten trapped, Kelsier was undoubtedly the best possible option. Any other kid would have been incredibly grateful, any other kid would have grown to trust Kelsier and live the rest of their lives with him until they were separated by fate or one of them died. As happy an ending as someone could hope for in this new world. Nico wasn’t just any kid, though. If Kelsier was the best person to have come into the convenience store, Nico was the worst person who could have been lying in wait for him. Nico knew for sure, in that moment, that Kelsier was going to save his life, and he was going to return the favor by destroying Kelsier’s. Unless he acted fast. Unless he denied that he was starting to care, unless he ran before he got attached, ran before Kelsier could get hurt. Maybe Kelsier would give him a moment’s thought every now and again, wonder where he was, how he was doing. That was more than Nico deserved. “I do,” he murmured, as though he could convince himself as well as Kelsier. He couldn’t afford to listen to Kelsier, he really couldn’t. But the man’s words wormed their way into Nico’s head, each of them striking true. He barely just managed to avoid cringing away from the truth of them, because he didn’t want Kelsier to think he had been hurt by the words. They were just… too true to deal with in the moment. Somehow, he managed not to look away. Alone had been one thing before all of this. Alone had meant he could just be in his room and maybe he could doodle things, or play games, or all sorts of fun things, before he had destroyed his own childhood. Who was he to resent himself for that? Who was he to regret that loss when he had stolen it from countless kids at the exact same time? “Being alone is safer.” Hidden in those words was the knowledge that even if staying with Kelsier was safer for Nico, it put Kelsier in so much more danger. Yes, he wanted to shout, Yes, I’ll stay with you and follow your stupid idealistic dream of a world where people are kind and life doesn’t have to be lived in fear. Instead, he bit his tongue and kept quiet. For everything in him, Nico couldn’t see how anyone could betray Kelsier. Well, he knew what humanity was like, so he could see, but it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Kelsier had been betrayed in the first place, and it wasn’t fair that he had come through the betrayal so strong, with his smiles and jokes and persistent truth, and the ability to care so deeply. Nico had been reckless with his heart when he was too young to know better, now he didn’t know how to deal with it. Now he could barely summon up the strength to care about his own life. Yet here he was, halfway to just handing Kelsier his heart on a platter. “I don’t deserve your trust,” he admitted quietly. “And I won’t give you mine. You know that already. I just…” he took a deep breath, as if asking himself if he was really about to do this. “I can’t promise I won’t leave. I can’t promise you won’t wake up alone. I can’t even promise you won’t wake up with a knife in your back, but I do promise that no matter what, I won’t be the one who put it there.” He knew it technically meant nothing, but it meant everything to him. Even if he could get around the promise by making someone else stab Kelsier in the back. He knew himself well enough to know he wouldn’t do that. Couldn’t do that. That was the promise he made to himself, the unspoken one. That as long as he had anything to say about it, Kelsier wouldn’t come to harm because of him. Well.. any more harm than he had already come to because of Nico. Nico’s eyes widened, almost imperceptibly. To save or to burn. Nico didn’t want that sort of responsibility, even if it was metaphorical. “Control or freedom,” he murmured, because that was what it came down to. In the air, up high, things could turn on a dime. You could fall, and maybe you were free int hat moment of weightlessness, but you were far from in control. The birds may have seemed like they were in control, but one wrong move, one sudden updraft and they could be pulled from flight. They were too exposed, so much open air around them that they couldn’t constantly keep an eye on. That was the last feeling Nico wanted, even if that was freedom. Even if that was what it felt like to live life untethered by a past you couldn’t erase. “I think I’d rather have control.” One day, he told Kelsier in his thoughts, words he didn’t dare let escape out loud, One day I promise you I will try freedom out for myself. And I’ll wish you could be there with me. Hopefully I’ll be long gone by then. “I think they’re birds. I think they’re as tied to this mess as we are, they’re just lucky enough to not be aware of it.” It was a cynical view, but it was true. The birds didn’t care. They didn’t feel freedom, they didn’t know what it was like to be trapped. Even if they could understand it, they wouldn’t understand the magnitude of the gift they held. “You’re right, though,” he murmured, so quiet his words were almost inaudible. They were far less captive than humanity was. Nico dwelled on that thought for a while longer, even as he stood there, even as he avoided looking directly at Kelsier. And then, suddenly, his thoughts snapped to the sound of his name on Kelsier’s lips and he froze. As strange as his name had been to say out loud, nothing compared to how odd it was to hear spoken aloud. To hear it coming from someone else. He felt vulnerable, exposed, but also known. Seen. Unbidden, tears welled up in his dark eyes and he turned before Kelsier could see them, slamming a fist down on the countertop area. The bowl he had been using almost fell over, but managed to stay upright at the last second. He couldn’t break down here. It had been years since anyone had said his name out loud. Nico didn’t realize how much power it could hold over him, how much he wanted to hear it again, how desperately he wanted to stay. Yearning was a simple word for what he felt. Yearning for a chance to stay and be someone he had long ago ceased being. All he could do was stand there, back to Kelsier and tears streaming down his face. Kelsier was right. The last thing he wanted was to be entirely alone. The last thing he wanted was to go years without anyone saying his name again. “It’s nice to meet you too, Kelsier,” Nico choked out, the words quiet and muffled. That smile.. that smile, like Nico had done something right, like he had given Kelsier something precious but unexpected, like Kelsier would cherish it… that smile was seared into his mind. He should have left before he got entangled.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Apr 28, 2020 21:21:51 GMT -5
(Making sure this doesn’t get locked. More to come!)
L hadn’t slept at all. If someone had asked him whether that was because he couldn’t, or because he didn’t want to, he wouldn’t have been able to answer them. He was thinking, about Orpheus, about the music, and the chance that they could fix this. He didn’t know how likely it was that they would succeed, but he estimated it to be around 7%. Not that he was going to tell Orpheus that, not unless he asked of course. L wasn’t going to keep secrets from Orpheus if he could help it, not even about things he thought Orpheus might not want to know. That didn’t mean he would necessarily volunteer information, but if he was asked, he would try not to lie. He knew this was going to be hard. He also knew it probably wasn’t going to work, but they had to try, didn’t they? He shifted in place, wondering whether this was wise, whether he really wanted to risk this. It wasn’t too late to slip away and let Orpheus wonder what had happened to the man with the peaches. He knew he could do it, and yet he sat still, staring at the wall, biting his nails. No, he wouldn’t leave. He wasn’t going to leave the only person he’d run into for what felt like years. L fidgeted. The sun was breaking over the horizon now, and light touched the sky and seemed to catch it on fire. It reminded him of the past, the way it continued to turn from night to day as though nothing had ever gone wrong. As though life as they knew it hadn’t ended. He realized there was no reason for it to have changed, but it still managed to surprise him, somehow. He wanted to go see how Orpheus was fairing, but he didn’t just yet. He didn’t know whether the man was awake yet, after all. How late did people sleep, anyway? Since he rarely slept and only then at odd times during the day or night equally, he didn’t have any idea what a normal sleep schedule was. Maybe Orpheus would come to him. Finally, he stood up, unable to keep still any longer. He could always go out. They hadn’t exactly posted anyone as a guard, after all, though now that L thought about it that might have been a good idea. But he felt, somehow, that leaving Orpheus asleep and undefended was a bad idea under the circumstances. Eventually, he decided to go see whether his new guest was awake. Padding lightly on his bare feet, L turned and carefully approached the room where Orpheus has slept, peering in before he entered.
Noah was right. Ronan would never admit it in a million years, but Noah was right and they both knew it deep down. Maybe Ronan wasn’t as dangerous as he pretended to be, maybe he was softer even than Noah was. He loved so strongly and felt so deeply, and it hurt. It hurt to feel everything as deeply as he did. It hurt to watch his friends be torn away from him and be powerless to stop it. It hurt to be Ronan Lynch, who should have been able to protect the people he loved, but couldn’t. Who had failed his real family in every way that mattered. Did he blame himself? Of course he did. He should have been there, for Noah, for Gansey, Adam, Blue...hell, even Henry deserved better. So he was a weapon. So what, if he wasn’t sharp enough to scare the bad guys away? What good was a weapon that didn’t defend those it belonged to? And Ronan belonged to his friends - family - completely. He knew Noah didn’t see himself. Not really. He didn’t see that he was one of them as deeply as anyone was. That he was important, that he mattered. Ronan would have told him that the things he told himself sometimes, when he didn’t believe he was worth their fierce love were, they weren’t true. But how could he admit that the reason he knew was because he understood? He couldn’t tell Noah that. He couldn’t tell Noah that he wasn’t the only one who doubted himself more often than not. Maybe that made him less of a good friend than he could have been, but he was trying. He was really trying. Even if he pretended he wasn’t. When they entered the light, hand in hand, Ronan didn’t let go. He could feel, somehow, that Noah needed him, though he didn’t know why. He didn’t know all the reasons Noah was hurting, he didn’t even know the biggest one there was. All he knew was that as Noah’s friend, he was also Noah’s protector, a job he took very seriously. No one could have been prepared to see this, he thought. It was like home at The Barns. It was like being safe when you hadn’t been for a very long time, and Ronan didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to lose this magic, he didn’t want to break this spell they found themselves under. His favorite spot. It seemed like such a cheap word for what this was to him. It didn’t do this place justice. He looked at Noah. The other boy’s reaction was everything he could have hoped for. Shocked and delighted and awed at the sight of this paradise, this gentle wonderland where there was peace and beauty instead of blood and horror. It was like a different world entirely, and Noah was one of the only people Ronan would have ever shared it with. This hidden part of him. “Me too.” He said softly, then looked away, down at the gentle grass and flowers he loved so much. He had to be careful. He had to make sure he didn’t go too far. “In my dream, they came and destroyed everything.” He continued, his voice taking on a harder edge now. Noah had to know what he was getting himself into. “Every f*cking flower. Dead. Like everywhere else in this whole godd*mn world.” He let go of Noah’s hand and took a step away, crossing his arms over his chest as though protecting himself from an attack. “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a dream, right? And they don’t know where this is. They don’t know.” He looked back at Noah, and he felt his heart shatter. His best friend looked so serious, so...something. There was a word for the expression on Noah’s face, but Ronan didn’t know it. Gansey would have supplied the perfect synonym for it. Adam would have called him pretentious, and then Ronan would have said something rude and Blue would have laughed at them all, because they deserved to be laughed at for their shenanigans. But now it was just the two of them. How could they ever be enough for each other?
“Good.” Sherlock said approvingly, looking at Crutchie with a half-smile on his face. “I would hate to waste my time. There’s precious little of that nowadays, isn’t there? Enough to be getting on with, but not nearly enough to waste a single second.” He rubbed his hands together, completely unaware of what Crutchie was thinking at that moment. He was simply excited to try this out, and thrilled that Crutchie was returning to normal so quickly. He could already see a bit of light! Why wouldn’t he be excited? “Cold. Very good.” He said brightly, scribbling it down in his journal. He didn’t mean to be as irritating as he sometimes was. He didn’t mean to not tell Crutchie that he was going to go temporarily blind, he was just not used to dealing with other people. And of course, he knew that there were side effects. So theoretically he shouldn’t have to tell anyone else, right? That was not how it worked in the slightest, but that was okay. The boy didn’t seem too upset, considering what he’d been through. Possibly he was just hiding it. The fact that Crutchie was a very giving person didn’t cross Sherlock’s mind. “Medical degree.” He snorted. “Please. I never would have needed that. I know that I know what I’m doing, I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me that. I’ve saved people’s lives before, you know. I know CPR.” He blinked, clearly taken aback by the boy’s insistence that he eat. He was busy. He had definitely eaten at some point in the last couple of days, right? He wasn’t too dizzy. He was fine. “Why are you giving me your food?” He asked, genuinely confused. “Aren’t you hungry? There might not be enough for you to eat more later, you know. Besides, you’re younger and you have a faster metabolism than I do, so you need it more. If you don’t eat enough you’ll have all sorts of nasty side effects and no doubt you haven’t eaten much at all in the last few days. I’m not eating half, you have it.” He wasn’t being generous, he was just being sensible. He couldn’t work with a test subject that was passing out all the time from hunger, could he?
Kelsier didn’t know Nico, but he thought he knew something about him. One thing, just one thing that he thought he knew for sure. Nico was a good person, a boy who cared a little too much and tried a little too hard. Nico was everything that Kelsier swore for protect from this cruel version of the world, these monsters that wandered day and night, looking for innocent flesh. It wasn’t fair, he thought, that the world was trying to break him. It wasn’t fair, but that wasn’t even the monsters’ fault, really. The world had never been fair. He didn’t know what Nico had done. He knew it was bad, though. What Nico didn’t know was that Kelsier too had done bad things, hurt people, killed them, even. Kelsier was far from the innocent, perfect human being Nico might think he was, because no one was actually perfect. The older survivor was capable of believing there were good people while still also believing that no one was completely innocent. He also knew that Nico wanted to run. He just hoped he was enough to stop the boy from acting on it. He didn’t. Nico didn’t want to be alone. Did anyone want to be truly, completely alone? Kelsier didn’t think so, because it wasn’t human nature to be alone. There were people who preferred it sometimes, sure, people who unlike Kelsier didn’t live for the attention they could get from others, even strangers. But no one wanted to be alone. And that was why Kelsier promised himself he would never leave Nico, never abandon him. Not even if death itself threatened him. He smiled a little. He’d never thought he was good around kids, but he supposed he was about to find out just how bad he was. He met Nico’s eyes, seeing the way the boy struggled with himself. The conflict inside of him. He wished he knew what this kid had gone through, so he could begin to help him heal. He wished he knew the details, even if they were going to hurt him as badly as he thought they were. He wanted to know anyway. He was willing to share Nico’s burden, if only the boy would let him. “Perhaps.” He conceded, letting his smile stay, even as he allowed it. “Perhaps it is safer. But what about rewarding? Is being safe worth it? Because you can’t ever be completely safe. I think that sometimes, being in more danger can be worth the reward.” He didn’t regret telling Nico about Mare’s betrayal, because if anything, it was to make this easier. This space in between trust and fear, this moment in between what they had been and what they would be. He wanted Nico to know that he wasn’t alone, and that Kelsier wasn’t like this because he was stupid and naive, but because he looked death in the face and he laughed. Because he chose to smile in spite of everything. Because that was who he was. How could anyone betray him? It was simple. He trusted, and because he trusted, there was always the possibility that someone would take advantage of him. Because of that, it only took one wrong decision for Kelsier to get knocked flat on his back with the rug pulled out from under him. It took one wrong move to get the air knocked from his chest. The real question was why he kept on trusting anyway. And the answer to that was because he thought it was worth it. He listened to Nico, and he nodded, because he knew that and he knew it was the best he was going to get. Was it enough? Yes it was. “That’s all I ask.” He said, dipping his head and closing his eyes for just a moment. He was still smiling, as though they were discussing nothing but the weather. “I hope I don’t wake up alone. I hope you’ll see that you’re welcome here for as long as you like, and though I can’t promise you safety, I can promise that I’ll share whatever it is I do have. I can promise you that I won’t lie to you and I will never betray you. Even if you leave.” His smile deepened then. “But I think you do deserve my trust. You deserve it for the very simple reason that I chose to give it to you, and it’s mine to give. You don’t have to do anything to earn it. It belongs to you, and you can do with it as you please.” Control or freedom. Nico was right, that was really what it was about. Kelsier knew which one he would pick every time, but his gut told him Nico wouldn’t agree with him, not yet at least. The less you could control, the more you craved control itself, over anything at all. It was the same way with freedom, but perhaps it was simply more subtle. Or perhaps, Nico simply preferred control overall. Could Kelsier really blame him? Could anyone blame him for wanting that? “I would rather fly.” Kelsier murmured, but he didn’t argue with Nico’s answer. “I would rather fall.” Because you couldn’t have one without the other, and he accepted that. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t fight gravity itself, of course. Who would he be if he submitted, even to the laws of the universe itself? But he would rather hold freedom in his own hands than and accept the risk than play on the safe side. All he could hope was that Nico would taste true freedom one day. All he could hope was that Nico would take that chance, and that it would pay off. Nico wasn’t wrong. The birds didn’t know what they’d been given, they didn’t know they were free. But they could still fly. And Kelsier would have been willing to give a great deal to join them in the sky. Maybe he wouldn’t have sacrificed his knowledge, or his awareness of the situation, maybe he wouldn’t actually have chosen to be anything but human if he’d been given the chance, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to be envious of them. The way they dipped and soared like leaves in a current, only they chose their own direction, and up was an option. Kelsier couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help craving freedom, even though he knew he couldn’t have it, not really. But then, what was hope if it crumbled in the face of obstacles? Then he said Nico’s name, and the boy turned away, and emotion slammed into him like a train. He didn’t see the tears in Nico’s eyes but he might as well have, because the way the boy turned away from him and hit the counter was more than enough to tell him it had been far too long since anyone had said Nico’s name. At least, said it in a way that wasn’t angry or hostile, or even unpredictable. There was so much in a name, so much meaning in that one word...so much power. Kelsier had been given something precious and rare, something beautiful and powerful and even deadly to exactly one person. And that person, the older survivor decided right then and there, would never regret what he had just done. Kelsier wouldn’t make him regret the choice to stay, stay as long as Kelsier could convince him to. Please stay. He wanted to give Nico a hug. He wanted to walk over there and wrap his arms around him and hold him as he cried, because that was clearly why he wouldn’t look at the older man. He wanted to tell Nico that it would be okay, that it wasn’t safe but that they could stay together and they would be okay. He would have given anything to swear to Nico that things would work out, and mean it. He would have given his wings if it meant Nico would fly untouched by whatever weighed him down now. But he was no god. He was just a survivor of the same terrible tragedy that had hurt everyone else, good and bad alike. And all he could promise was to tell the truth. He wasn’t hungry anymore. Somehow, the soup just didn’t look good to him anymore. He pushed the bowl aside but he didn’t approach Nico, giving him space, trying to be open in case the boy came to him first. Which wasn’t likely, but he was there if Nico needed someone. Even if it was just a shoulder to cry on. And he would keep smiling. That was the one thing he could keep giving without any cost. That was the one thing that he could use to prove he was still himself.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on May 13, 2020 21:44:06 GMT -5
Certainty was a luxury Orpheus had rarely been afforded in his life, but he knew there had been times when he had been far more sure than he was now. You couldn’t survive this long in an apocalypse without some self-preservation instinct. Orpheus had tried not to be hardened by the situation, had tried to always see the best in people, but even he knew that trusting someone you just met wasn’t always the best idea. More often than not people were willing to give him a pass because he played for them and gave them something they hadn’t had in a long time, but there were still people who were antagonistic and violent. They couldn’t be entirely avoided, no matter how much Orpheus wanted to pretend that everyone was good at heart. He did truly believe that. People started out good, and they could become good again. But these people had been pushed so far beyond their limits that it might take a while to unlearn the fear and the confidence in isolation. Somehow, though, Orpheus didn’t believe L was one of the violent ones. He trusted him. After all, in a world such as theirs there was no need for manipulation anymore. People tended to be upfront about their motives, and L had shared his peaches. If he decided to turn back now, to keep to safety in isolation, Orpheus wouldn’t have blamed him. But he didn’t think L would attack under any circumstances. It took him a moment to realize that L was looking into the room, and once he did he smiled softly and stepped aside so L could join him by the window, if he wished. The world looked so different now, but there were so many signs of what it had been, once. He didn’t know what to say. He could thank L again for letting him stay, for giving him a safe place to spend the night, but ‘thank you’ didn’t cut it. “I miss sunrises over the ocean,” he commented quietly, not wanting to disturb the quiet of the morning. But it wasn’t quiet, not really. The birds still sung, and the world continued on like it would have regardless of whether or not people were dying en masse every day. Orpheus had been stranded in America when the apocalypse had hit, but he didn’t think it would have been any different had he still been at home. By that point, America was home. It had Eurydice, it had notebooks full of song lyrics… and now he had none of that. But he could get it back, eventually. He had to believe that. The man’s gaze flicked back to L, wondering what he was thinking. In the old days he may have asked him how he slept, but that answer never changed for anyone now.
Maybe, Noah thought, if he told Ronan the truth here, it wouldn’t count. Maybe it would just be a half remembered secret and they could move on and Noah’s wound would heal and this all would be behind them. Or maybe it would just ruin the only good place Ronan had found, the one beautiful place where Ronan was the soft side of himself, not just the weapon. Noah remembered sunny afternoons at the Barns, when he and Ronan had been best friends and had nothing more to worry about than bullies on the playground. When Noah was picked on, he could always depend on Blue or Ronan to stand up for him, to push the bully back and tell them to back off. The thought made Noah sad, for some reason. It was a happy memory, but those had more weight now than any bad memories did. Nothing had changed, not really. Noah still needed Ronan’s strength to keep himself standing. He still needed Ronan there to push back the bullies, only this time the bully was going to kill him and he couldn’t even tell Ronan who it was. This time, Noah couldn’t be saved. Noah slowly knelt down, running a hand through the soft grass. It was only after he’d done it that he realized his mistake. Could the virus infect plants? Noah didn’t know, but he pulled his hand back after a few moments for fear that he would kill it all. If Ronan was a weapon, then Noah had become one unintentionally. Ronan could be aimed, Ronan would protect the people he cared about. Noah couldn’t do that. The only thing left that Noah could do was kill. He didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to be the reason anyone else lost themselves. “No,” he whispered, the horror of Ronan’s dream hitting too close. “No, they can’t get to this place.” It was barely a whisper, and there was fear in it, but also confidence. He wouldn’t let anyone take this away from Ronan. When Noah was gone, it would be all Ronan had left. If I can control where I go when I lose myself, he thought, looking around at the new world Ronan had taken him to, I will come here and I will protect it with whatever is left of my life. If he believed it enough, he could make it come true, right? He straightened up, meeting Ronan’s gaze for a long moment. “Nobody but you would’ve found it.” That was true. Nobody would go into dark tunnels anymore, they were too likely to be filled with zombies, even if there was something rewarding like this on the other end. Only Ronan, who seemed to have so little care for his own life at times, would have made it this far in. Standing there, keeping the only secret he’d ever kept from Ronan, felt like breathing without lungs. And existing without Gansey and Adam and Blue? That was so much worse. They were one being, together. Gansey at their head, guiding them which way to go, Adam and Ronan their arms, one always willing to throw a punch and the other doing everything else they could possibly have needed. And they had stood on Noah and Blue’s shoulders, Blue’s stubbornness keeping them grounded and Noah’s reckless nature propelling them forward. Without the others, Ronan and Noah were off kilter, unable to take a step forward, unable to see where they were going. Losing the others was the pain of losing a part of themselves. “There have to be more places like this,” Noah murmured, letting his eyes close for a moment. “There have to be. They’re not all destroyed.” His voice was small, but he believed it. “And maybe Gansey and Blue are standing somewhere very similar, and they’re wondering where we are. Maybe Adam found a place like this and he walked away because he didn’t feel like he deserved it.” It was wishful thinking, and it hurt, but it was better than thinking about anything else. “Maybe we won’t ever find them, but maybe they’re still out there.” If any place in the world was magic, it was this place. If there was anywhere where Noah could just… speak things into existence, like so many pretentious teachers at Aglionby had told them to do once, it was here.
As time went on, Crutchie might start to get excited about side effects wearing off, but he wasn’t there yet. For the first poison, it was terrible. He’d come to realize later that it wasn’t the worst one by a long shot, but there would be others that were easier to recover from. For now, though, they were setting a precedent, and Crutchie didn’t want to get excited prematurely. He was still very far from back to normal. There were going to have to be ground rules set in place, and if Sherlock didn’t like that… well, too bad. Crutchie didn’t like almost going blind. But it seemed they were both incredibly stubborn people who also… could be reasonable when it suited their purposes. As far as Crutchie was concerned, being reasonable would be the only way the two of them could survive more than one day working together. Fortunately for Sherlock, however, Crutchie wasn’t one to hide his emotions. If he was angry, someone was going to know about it. He didn’t tend to get angry often, but Sherlock had already been exposed to it. He needn’t have worried that Crutchie was hiding anything. Even if he were the type to hide anything more than his past, there would be no reason to here. It would just make whatever was going to happen even more impossible than it already seemed. “CPR is a long way away from being able to perform surgery and do medical things,” Crutchie replied, voice dry. He let a hint of a smile etch itself onto his lips right after. He didn’t mind, not really. Sherlock was still the best shot Crutchie had found at making himself useful. Medical degree or not, Crutchie wasn’t going to turn back now. What was going to be a problem, on the other hand, was the fact that Sherlock didn’t seem to be particularly good at taking care of himself. “Sure I’m hungry, but I’ve gotten used to not eating for extended periods of time. I might be a few inches shorter than I could’ve been, but other than that it hasn’t been an issue. And it does us even less good if you pass out from starvation. I won’t eat the other half of this, so either you eat it or it goes to waste.” They both knew that wasting food was one of the worst things they could do. Which made it an incredibly childish move on Crutchie’s part, but in his defense, he was a child.
Even if Nico knew every bad thing that Kelsier had ever done, he would have still seen Kelsier as he did. The last good person, that wasn’t going to change. Because Kelsier had carried him home and made him soup and hadn’t sold him up for ransom… because he was willing to stand by Nico now, when he was terrified of trusting anyone, because he didn’t need Nico to promise things he couldn’t keep. Because he himself had promised not to lie. The last good person, because he said he didn’t care what Nico had done, that it didn’t change anything. Nico knew it did, knew it always would matter, but the sentiment was nice. The fact that he believed that nothing bad could dissuade him from being there for Nico. No, nothing would be able to change Nico’s mind about Kelsier now, nor his conviction that the sooner he left the better for both of them. But Nico was a selfish person at heart, and even though he knew what the consequences would inevitably be… he wanted to stay. He wanted to believe that if he just stayed, Kelsier could protect him and they would never be in any more danger than the rest of humanity was. If he had known Kelsier a little bit better, he would have asked if it was selfish to not want to be alone. If that made him a bad person, because he was so tired of being alone. He was so tired of being the only one looking for security cameras or staying up for nights on end because he couldn’t afford to lose focus and sleep. He was so tired of living in fear, and though he was convinced he deserved it, he wanted to stay with Kelsier. He just… couldn’t let Kelsier know that. If Kelsier knew what he really wanted, he would make it so much harder to leave. As it was, Nico wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to. Unless danger struck and knocked some sense into him. If Nico knew the promises Kelsier made himself, he would have told him not to. He would have told him he was being foolish, wasting his promises on someone who didn’t deserve it. Making promises he would be forced to break later. But he didn’t know, so he couldn’t say it. It was so simple, meeting Kelsier’s gaze. So simple, letting himself believe the kindness he saw there, the honesty. It was so simple it scared him, and he wanted to look away, to back out of this, but it was too late. “You can survive alone.” It was a weak argument. He had been surviving for so long that he didn’t remember any other way of existing. Had forgotten that there were people who didn’t make it to the end of the day and collapse and pick themselves back off the floor to do it all over again the next day. “Everything hurts more when you aren’t alone,” he admitted, very quietly. “When you aren’t alone you get attached, and then they get hurt, and then you’re alone again only this time you remember what it was like to not be alone. And it hurts more until it gets numb again. Is that worth it? Is that really worth it?” He was asking himself as much as he was Kelsier. Trying to convince his foolhardy heart that it was making the wrong decision. Trying to prevent heartbreak before it even happened. And yet. And yet he was drawn in by Kelsier’s words, by the promises he made out loud. The promises that etched themselves onto Nico’s being, because those were the promises he’d cling to for the rest of his life, whether he knew it or not. “I believe you.” The words left his lips unbidden. He believed Kelsier with every fiber of his being, which was what made this so hard. If he had doubted him, maybe he could have saved them both a lot of heartache later on. But he didn’t. “But I don’t have anything to offer you. You can offer all that, you can promise to share what you have, but I don’t have anything to share with you. And if I stay, the chances of me being caught go down, because they’re looking for me alone. But if I stay, then the chances of you getting caught in the middle go up. Is that a risk you’re willing to take? I’m not being followed by people who will be dissuaded by your presence. They’ll just take you too. And if that happens, you’ll remember this conversation, and you’ll hate me for not being honest with you about everything, and I’m sorry, but I can’t..” Of course, the words revealed more than he expected them to. They revealed that he cared about Kelsier, that he didn’t want him to be in danger, that he wasn’t sure he was willing to trade his own safety for Kelsier’s. If Kelsier was to be believed, staying with him would mean he was safer, not in more danger. And Nico believed him. “You’ve already given me your trust,” he murmured. “You’re offering so much more than that, and I can’t even give you that.” He believed him, but he didn’t trust him. Even Nico wasn’t sure what that meant, or where it left him. He let the silence surround them for just a moment before he focused on Kelsier’s words. If Kelsier wanted to fall, then Nico couldn’t stop him. It was just that the last thing he wanted was to be the reason Kelsier’s wings were cut. The last thing he wanted to do was be the one to deprive this brave, wonderful man the freedom he deserved. Nico was like an anchor dragging a body down to the bottom of the ocean. As far away as one could get from the sky Kelsier spoke of so fondly. The rest of it faded away from Nico’s mind, however, as the sound of his name on Kelsier’s lips rocked through him. He couldn’t face him, could barely even wipe the tears from his cheeks without being obvious about it, because he wouldn’t have given Kelsier his name if he hadn’t intended on staying. It was just a name, but it wasn’t. Because it was a decision. It was a promise that he would stay as long as he could, it was everything he had told Kelsier he couldn’t give him. It wouldn’t have been hard for Kelsier to decide to find the people who were looking for Nico, and his name would make it so much easier. Nico sucked in a breath and he didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t know why he had shared it, or why it hurt so much to hear, or why he wanted to hear it again and again and again, because that was him. That was the only proof he existed here, other than the state of the world. It was the only thing tying him to humanity, and now that someone – someone good – knew it, it felt like a weight off of Nico’s shoulders. It felt like flying, like taking something back for himself that he had been denied for so, so long. It would be so easy to just wipe away his tears and pretend it hadn’t impacted him like it did, but that wouldn’t be fair to either of them. Instead, Nico turned around and took one unsteady step towards Kelsier. He met his eyes, dark and tearstained catching on hazel and smiling. What was this feeling? This warmth in the pit of his stomach, the way he couldn’t help the sobs that rose in his throat, the way he wanted, for some reason, to run to Kelsier and let the survivor hold him. But he was still like a wild animal, learning, little by little to trust. Approaching Kelsier cautiously, but too easily scared away by sudden movements or any attempt to initiate contact. What he didn’t understand was why, even as he stood rooted to the spot, holding Kelsier’s gaze felt a lot like what he imagined coming home would feel like if home were someplace nice. If home were what other people associated it with rather than what Nico had come to know. He didn’t know why his heart felt like it was about to escape his chest, and he didn’t know why he trusted Kelsier not to hurt him here. “I don’t want to be alone,” he admitted, the whisper so quiet it almost dissipated into the air around him. In spite of everything he’d tried to convince Kelsier, he didn’t. And he hoped the words would reach Kelsier, and he hoped he wouldn’t hear him at all, and was this what it was like to fall and hope that someone would be there to catch him?
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on May 20, 2020 5:19:52 GMT -5
L knew better than anyone what it was like to live a chaotic, ever-changing life. His life had never been simple. From the moment he was born up until now, there had always been something, something keeping him on his toes and dancing out of reach. It was just a game, a dangerous game he knew how to play too well. Life was a game with no reset button, meaning everyone was playing on level ground. Life wasn’t fair, not like death was, but that was okay. People weren’t fair, either. He understood that some people had something to give. Something that made people leave them alone, something that made them as safe as they were going to get. He didn’t have that. Oh, he had gifts, and he had a lot to give, he knew that. But his talents went to waste with the world broken. No one wanted someone who could catch criminals by tracking them down and narrowing the options down to one, but who couldn’t hunt. Who couldn’t fight, not as well as most people could. Who may have been stronger than he looked, but wasn’t nearly strong enough. He knew that, and that was why he had avoided people altogether. They wouldn’t want him around, and he wasn’t going to put anyone at risk to take care of him. Not when he could do that on his own. Orpheus was right about one thing, though. He wouldn’t hurt him. If Orpheus decided to try his luck elsewhere, that was a sensible move, but L wouldn’t hurt him. He watched Orpheus for a moment longer, than quietly joined him at the window, his bare feet soundless against the floor. The world was surprisingly similar to what it had been before, really. Birds still sang and dipped and soared overhead. The sun still rose and fell in time to the shadows moving over the ground. The wind still blew and rain still fell and L was still alone. Because he didn’t delude himself for a second, thinking that Orpheus was going to stay. It simply wasn’t the practical option. “You lived by the ocean?” He replies just as quietly, but not because he didn’t want to shatter this moment. Because he didn’t know Orpheus. Because he matched people’s tones when he didn’t know them, in case they didn’t like the way he naturally spoke. It wasn’t something he did often, but maybe...maybe he didn’t want Orpheus to leave anymore than Orpheus himself did. Maybe he was trying to make himself less annoying just in case that helped. If that was what he was doing, it was subconscious. But the fact remained the same. “Did you sleep?” He continued, his dark eyes flicking to Orpheus. Because it wasn’t a matter of how anymore. It was a matter of if.
A secret between them. It was unheard of, and the fact that Ronan was aware of its existence didn’t make it better. He knew there was something Noah wasn’t telling him. He knew it like a knife in his heart, twisting cruelly. But he couldn’t make Noah tell him the truth and he didn’t want to force him, and Noah hadn’t lied. He’d simply omitted something. Was that better? Ronan hoped it was, because otherwise he was no better than a liar himself. He didn’t lie, but he didn’t always tell the truth, either. He missed being kids. God he missed that. He missed the sun on his back as he ran around the barns with his brothers and, more importantly now, his friends. He missed getting into fights he didn’t have to win. He missed sprawling out on the grass and he missed the only friends he’d ever had. The raven boys, and blue. Who was he without them? He was nothing but a restless heart, searching, always searching and never satisfied with what it found. He could stay alive, that was the easy part. But what was the point when he couldn’t go home? He watched Noah touch the grass, then pull his hand back. He didn’t join him. He wanted to, he did, but even here he knew they weren’t safe. Even here he had to protect Noah, and he wouldn’t let even this soft moment come between him and that goal. He looked at Noah, and he instantly regretted telling him about the dream. He shouldn’t have brought that here. This place...it was closer to home than anywhere else was. It made him wonder what the Barns looked like now. He wished he could see them, he wished he could go there and lie in the barn like he used to, surrounded by the smell of home. But he couldn’t. He could never do that again. He wanted to tell Noah they couldn’t get to this place. But he didn’t tell lies. He shrugged. Maybe Noah was right. Maybe you needed to be foolish and careless and reckless to find this place, maybe you needed to walk down dark tunnels with no reason to believe you would ever come out. Maybe you needed to be Ronan, with so little care for your own safety. “I was looking for them.” He said it softly, so softly it was almost lost in the birdsong. “Adam and Gansey and the others. I thought I saw someone who looked like you slip in here, and I followed them. I thought I’d finally found you guys, and I was going to surprise you by showing up right at your camp and making Gansey scream like a girl. I thought...oh hell, what does it matter what I thought? I was wrong. It was just a f*cking zombie, and I killed it, and then I found this place.” He didn’t tell Noah that he’d lay on the soft grass and cried for the first time since the apocalypse began. He didn’t tell Noah that he’d yelled at the birds to shut up, just shut up because why were they singing? What the hell was there left worth singing about? He looked at Noah, silent as the other boy spoke. “Maybe.” He said, but he didn’t believe it. Because it was more likely they were dead, and he didn’t like false hope. He hated the feeling of being broken, but that was what he was without the rest of them. He was a weapon with no one left to hold him. He was a sword without a sheath, and that meant whoever touched him now would cut themselves on his edges. He wanted to believe Noah. He wanted to believe there was a chance he was right about the others, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. That, or what he really thought. He lay down on the grass and closed his eyes instead. “I just want to do something.” He said, and his tone was low, serious now. “I just want to fight this somehow. I hate this so much.”
Sherlock was still busy, even if his current subject wasn’t back on his feet yet. He had equations to write out and reactions to study, and he couldn’t stop now, not when he was so close to figuring this out. Not when he was so close to reaching an answer. Which, he wasn’t actually particularly close. But that was okay. He was making progress, and that was the important thing. He busted himself with the work, scribbling things down and muttering to himself. Crutchie didn’t seem to be his primary interest anymore. This was mostly because he was nearing a breakthrough in his math and didn’t want to be interrupted, but that wasn’t really a great excuse to be ignoring the kid you just blinded. Reasonable. Sherlock could be reasonable. Occasionally. He had no idea how they were going to get along, but he needed a subject, and Crutchie had offered himself up willingly. Which was quite unusual, to be sure. Sherlock didn’t tend to think he was wrong. And he was, sometimes, very wrong. But when he looked at Crutchie, he didn’t see the sort of person who hid their emotions. Still, it was prudent to take everything into consideration, which meant for Sherlock that he had to be careful not to start trusting his new subject too much. Assuming he knew everything was going to get him killed, and he knew it, deep down somewhere past his desire to be right. “Surgery.” He snorted, as though he couldn’t believe Crutchie was counting that as something worth studying. “I could do surgery. I’ve seen in done, I’d remember how.” That was definitely how it worked. Right? He eyed the sandwich as Crutchie spoke. “That means you need more food, not less.” He pointed out, though he didn’t sound particularly confident that Crutchie was going to listen to him. “I’m not going to pass out. I’m not even hungry. I’m sure I’ve eaten something in the last couple of days, at any rate.” He stared at the sandwicl the sighed and picked it up, taking a careless bite out of the center. “Happy?”
Kelsier, a good person. Kelsier, perhaps the last good person there was. Was that true? Or was Kelsier simply a person, like everyone else? A man trying his best in a world determined to do its worst? Maybe there wasn’t a difference between the two. Maybe Kelsier was a good person, simply because he tried. It wasn’t easy, trying. It wasn’t easy, not giving up even when the worst was threatening to suffocate you in its depths. He truly meant what he said to Nico. He wouldn’t lie. He wouldn’t abandon Nico, no matter what. Because whatever he had done, whatever he was keeping close to his heart, Kelsier wouldn’t judge him for it. Whatever it was, he had made up his mind to trust Nico, and that meant he opened his heart to the chance that it would break. He was strong, because he was fragile. He was strong because he let himself be vulnerable. He watched Nico, watched the way he stood there, and he promised himself that he would do everything in his power to make this kid want to stay. To make him stay with someone who cared about him, even if it meant risking his heart. Because Kelsier promised himself he would never break that trust. He promised himself that he would rather die. If Nico had asked, Kelsier would have looked at him and he would have told him that being selfish wasn’t always a bad thing. Being selfish sometimes meant taking care of yourself first, and that was okay. He may have sacrificed himself to save everyone else, but that didn’t mean he, too, wasn’t just a little bit selfish at times. And he didn’t want to be alone either. He didn’t have to go through the same things as Nico did, it was true, but the things he had gone through...Mare’s betrayal, and all it carried with it...well. He didn’t want to be alone. Was it selfish? Perhaps. But maybe that wasn’t a bad thing, in the end. Maybe that was okay. He kept making himself promises. Maybe that was a good idea, and maybe it wasn’t, but he was doing it anyway. Because Nico deserved the promises Kelsier made, he deserved the trust he gave. Nico was enough, even if he didn’t know it. If only it were easier to be kind. Then maybe everyone would do it. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to find people willing to try, people who could do the right thing even if it was hard. Kelsier knew he was far from perfect himself, and he had done things that could be considered unforgivable. He was, perhaps, undeserving of the title Nico had granted him. But that didn’t mean he didn’t try. Nico was right, of course. Being alone was safer, far safer. Kelsier nodded, his eyes gentle as he watched Nico, the way the boy spoke. “Is survival enough?” He asked, careful, so careful. He didn’t want to push too hard. He just had to push enough for Nico to see that running wasn’t the only option. Running wasn’t the only way to keep going. It wasn’t even the best way. Was it worth it? Kelsier wished he could answer that question. And he had to answer it, and he had to be honest, because he wasn’t going to lie to Nico. He considered it quietly for a couple minutes, and nodded, his eyes betraying the truthfulness behind his words. “Yes, it’s worth the risk. Caring about someone, that’s always risky. Even before the world ended. Caring about someone means opening yourself up to being hurt, and sometimes that’s exactly what happens. But I think the risk is worth it. Because the gain is so much more. Caring about someone, not being alone...that’s living. That’s so much more than surviving.” Nico believed him. That meant so much more to him than he was willing to let on just yet. Nico believed him, believed the promises he made, and even wanted to give something back. He didn’t know how much that meant to the man who had nothing since Mare died. The man surviving alone and wanting to find something that mattered. The man who, instead of revenge, found solace in solitude and survival, who still wanted to avenge his wife’s death but knew he couldn’t. Who was still trying anyway. “You can stay.” He said, before he could stop himself. “You don’t have to run. You could stay and give this a chance. You could try it and see what happens.” He smiled. “You don’t have to make any promises, or give anything back. You don’t have to do anything. Trust isn’t a deal, it isn’t a bargain. It’s a way of life, one that I’ve chosen to follow. Not for anything I’m going to get out of it, but for what I can give. And the benefits of giving it.” He nodded, still smiling. “I’ll take that risk.” He said, and he meant it. “I’m not asking you to trust me. I’m asking you to stay, just for a little bit. Just enough to give me a chance. I’m asking a lot of you, I suppose, and even if you choose to leave, I’ll still give you my trust. But whoever is after you...well. They haven’t met me yet.” He was being overconfident and he knew it. But there was a certain joy to being confident, to being in control and even a little bit cocky. Kelsier was willing to risk everything for this boy he barely knew. Was that confidence, or foolishness? Perhaps there wasn’t much of a line between the two after all. If Nico didn’t want to be the reason Kelsier fell, then leaving was the last thing he should do. Because Kelsier would try to let him go. He would try not to follow, and he would try, and he would fail because he cared too much. He would follow Nico and he would keep an eye on him, and he would try not to invade his space but it would be impossible to let him die. So he would interfere. He would interfere in Nico’s life, and he would save him, and Nico might not thank him for it. Because Nico might want to be left alone, and Kelsier probably wouldn’t be able to do that. He watched Nico, and he realized the boy was crying, though he was doing a good job of hiding it. Because a name meant so much to them both. It was a gift, it was a promise, it was everything Nico didn’t think he could give. It was proof that there was hope, even if Nico didn’t think there was. It was proof that they could be more. And it was trust, despite everything Nico had said. It was trust, because Kelsier had the power to destroy him, and Nico trusted him not to. Kelsier could have said it again. He could have said the name on his lips over and over again but he didn’t, because he thought Nico needed to handle having heard it once first, before he heard it again. Kelsier could feel the emotions rolling off Nico, like a tangible wind tugging at his hair and clothes, but he didn’t move. Nico needed to make the first move, that much was incredibly clear to him. And he did. Nico took a step towards him, and Kelsier didn’t move, though he wanted to catch him in a hug and hold him close and tell him it would be okay. He wanted to protect him, but first, he had to win his trust. First he had to prove himself, and he could only do that slowly. He met the boy’s eyes, and there was no judgement for the tears he saw on the boy’s face in them. No judgement for anything at all. He didn’t say anything. Take it slow, take it slow, take it slow. Slower than slow. Kelsier wouldn’t break what they had between them, this tenuous connection they’d made. When he hadn’t killed Nico, when he’d carried the boy to safety and made him soup and said his name. When Nico had given his name, and so much more than that. They weren’t strangers anymore. They were…. “Me neither.” The older survivor agreed, his voice as soft as a breeze touching the window. “I don’t want to be alone either.” He knew what this was. He knew that he trusted Nico, and he knew that was his gift to give, without asking for anything in return. But looking at Nico, looking at the boy he wanted to defend to his last breath, even though he barely knew him...he didn’t know. He didn’t know what he expected to happen. All he knew was that he’d given his trust already and if Nico wanted to break it, that was his decision. He would still be there to catch him if he fell.
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on May 24, 2020 18:04:11 GMT -5
L might have known a good deal about humanity, but Orpheus was, for all intents and purposes, an outlier. He had a good deal to offer humanity because it seemed he was one of the few people that had chosen to hang onto music when the rest of the world had chosen to leave it behind, but he didn’t care about that. He played to keep the zombies away, sure, but he also played because he needed to. Because it brought smiles to people’s faces, because who was Orpheus without his guitar and a song? It was the only thing he’d been good at before, and if he could do nothing else useful in the aftermath, he might as well remind people that art didn’t die with civilization. That even in times of uncertainty, music could help, just a little bit. L was wrong about Orpheus, because he wasn’t going to leave. He didn’t care what was practical, he didn’t care if L had nothing to offer, because he didn’t stay based on what other people could offer him. He hadn’t stayed with anybody in years, but that was only because he had never been invited. Sure, people enjoyed his music for brief periods of time, but nobody wanted to care for the man who couldn’t hunt or defend himself. Nobody wanted that burden. And even if they didn’t mind caring for him, some days he couldn’t even string sentences together properly, sometimes he just sat and he wrote and he didn’t get up, didn’t even notice the world going on around him just like it normally did. Orpheus had turned his attention back to the window, and though he could see L out of his periphery, he hadn’t actually heard him approach. He was grateful he had. He was grateful L hadn’t changed his mind about letting Orpheus stay. Orpheus didn’t want to admit it, but he was lonely. He was lonely and he was losing hope and finding someone who didn’t mind his presence… well, that was just what he needed. “Yes,” he murmured in response, not picking up on the fact that L was matching his tone. He wouldn’t have minded L’s normal speaking patterns, but he couldn’t say that out loud. He didn’t know it was even in question. “I lived in Greece until a year before this all happened. Just off the coast, where you could hear the seabirds in the morning.” He knew he would never get back to Greece. The thought still hurt, but he could move past it. He had something keeping him here, after all. Eurydice. His goal was to save Eurydice, somehow. Orpheus was silent for a few moments, considering L’s question. “Does anyone really sleep anymore?” he asked, voice still soft. Perhaps that was just how he spoke, his tone as gentle as the songs he sang. He was built for a world that wasn’t as hard as this one. “But I haven’t had anything close to a bed in weeks, months maybe. I… I slept as much as can be expected. Thank you for letting me stay the night.” He had gone to bed optimistic, but now he wondered if L would just kick him out. It was safer to be alone, that was what most people felt. It never changed the fact that Orpheus didn’t agree. You were always stronger in numbers.
It felt an awful lot like lying to Ronan, and Noah hated it. He had never been one to feel hatred so acutely it hurt. Noah, of all of them, was the one who smiled at strangers and made friends easily, even if people didn’t like him very much because he could be annoying and reckless and a bit too much of a pushover. He looked at the universe like it was a friend, even when it spurned him in return. It had never mattered, because he’d had Ronan and Gansey and Adam and Blue. But now, he hated. He hated the way the world was, he hated Whelk for pushing him, and he hated himself for not telling Ronan the truth. If Ronan hated false hope, Noah himself was false hope. Because he was dying. Because he wasn’t just dying, but he was going to take people with him unless someone stopped him in time. How could he ask that of Ronan? How could he stay with him, let him think his best friend was alive, only to pull the rug out from under him and not even be human enough at that point to apologize? It was a good think Ronan wasn’t looking at Noah when he told the story of how he had found the place. It was a good thing he didn’t see the way Noah cringed away from his description of the zombie. That was all Noah would be, probably sooner rather than later. It had been years since he’d been bitten, but still. Nobody survived a bite, and Noah wasn’t stupid enough to believe he’d be the first. It was different from the original virus. There were people that were immune, who couldn’t be turned into zombies because they’d survived the initial outbreak, but that wasn’t Noah. Noah was silent for several moments, reflecting on that. “Do you think Glendower could fix this, if we found him now?” His voice was quiet, as though he didn’t really want the answer. Glendower had been Gansey’s dream, and they’d all followed along, enamored by their friend and his idea, and the promise of a wish. A wish that they all spent days arguing about what to do with, and in the end it hadn’t mattered. In the end, the only ones left alive were Noah and Ronan, and eventually it would just be Ronan. Noah wanted to punch something. He wanted to find Glendower and scream at him to end this all, to make it so it had never happened. He wanted his friends back. He wanted his own life back. He grit his teeth, trying to stop himself from crying, because he was close. He was so close to just breaking down at the unfairness of it all, and Ronan didn’t need that. He didn’t need to worry about Noah any more than he already did. Noah’s hand drifted up to his cheek, rubbing at the now healed over bite mark. He was lucky – if you didn’t know what it was, it would be almost impossible to tell. But sometimes he swore he could feel the virus festering in there, waiting to take over his mind. He didn’t know why it hadn’t already done so. Sometimes he just wished it would get on with it. Noah glanced down at his friend as he lay on the grass, wishing he could join him. Wishing he didn’t feel so much like the entire thing might fall apart if he made one wrong move. “Me too,” he murmured, staring up at the sky. “I hate it too.” He could ask. He could ask Ronan to kill him, when he eventually turned. But he didn’t want to, he didn’t want to force Ronan to do that. Noah Czerny was selfish, at heart. He was selfish and he hated the world that had made him into this thing, and he wanted to hold tight to Ronan as he was drowning even if that meant both of them went down instead of just him. But he wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t. “We’ll just have to find the assholes that did this and punch them in the face,” Noah mused softly, glancing down at Ronan. It was better than nothing.
Crutchie didn’t mind not being the primary interest. It meant he would have to find something else to do when Sherlock was busy on equations and things, but he hadn’t had time to do anything but survive in… ages. Surely there would be something interesting to do. Some hobby he could pick up when Sherlock was doing the actually important work. Or maybe Sherlock would even let him help beyond just being a test subject. Not that he had received a great education before the virus had struck, but… he could learn. He was awfully quick at picking things up. He would just have to prove that to Sherlock somehow until he let him help. The good news was, Crutchie was very good at being stubborn, even if he didn’t always get what he wanted. This time, he just had to stubborn enough to persuade Sherlock. Still, the boy cocked an eyebrow at that. “Yes, sure I believe you can pick up how to perform surgery just by watching someone else do it,” he replied, unable to stop the sarcasm from seeping into his voice. Nobody could be that good, even if they had a photographic memory. “Maybe you know how to do one specific surgery, but even that’s doubtful.” He didn’t mean to be rude by implying that Sherlock was wrong but… well, Sherlock was wrong. And if he expected Sherlock to be honest with him, he might as well be honest with his new companion as well. Even if honesty sometimes meant he was being quite blunt. He tried not to hurt feelings, but he felt that a few possible hurt feelings were allowed after he’d been literally blinded. Not that he was intentionally being antagonistic… probably. “If I could see what you’d done, maybe I would be happy,” Crutchie deadpanned, finishing off his own half. “I get the feeling you did something incredibly petty like tearing off the crust and just eating that, though, so no. I’m probably not happy.”
Nico knew deep in his heart that he didn’t deserve everything that Kelsier was offering to him. He didn’t deserve these promises, he didn’t even deserve Kelsier telling him the truth, agreeing to look after him… Kelsier could say all he wanted that he didn’t care what he had done, but Nico knew the truth. Nico knew that what he did was unforgiveable. Yet he still evaded his father, made his father’s men work harder to catch him, because he valued his own life. He hoped that somehow, by some miracle, he could make up for what he had done. And that was a task he knew he couldn’t accomplish in his father’s house. But dragging Kelsier, dragging a good man into this mess? That was one more mistake he would have to remedy. It was one more terrible thing he should have stopped before it started. But it was too late now. If Kelsier’s goal was to make Nico want to stay, he had succeeded. The last thing Nico wanted to do was leave, but that was exactly what he would have to do if he wanted to protect Kelsier. As it turned out, though, whatever promises Nico had made to himself, he wasn’t good at being a good person. He wasn’t good at putting others first, because he was going to stay. He was going to stay for as long as he could, and he told himself he would leave as soon as it was dangerous for Kelsier, but if he couldn’t leave now… what were the chances he’d be able to leave then? Kelsier was harboring more than just an underfed, exhausted boy. He was harboring a fugitive, the boy who had brought on the end of the world. Nico was taking advantage of the fact that Kelsier trusted him. If it made him feel guilty, it wasn’t guilty enough to completely stop him. The way Kelsier spoke about living versus surviving… hurt. Nico wanted to live, he wanted to have a normal life with friends and a family, he wanted to care. He wanted to trust people. The thing was, though, he didn’t deserve the trust that people gave in return. He didn’t deserve the lack of hatred, he didn’t deserve to be surrounded by anyone who cared, because how many countless people had he deprived of that chance? There wasn’t a single person alive who hadn’t watched some of their friends or family die, so who was Nico to sweep in and make himself a family amongst the broken pieces of families he killed? “What were you before all of this?” Nico asked, his voice barely audible. “A lawyer? You’re damn persuasive.” It wasn’t sarcastic. He wouldn’t have been surprised at all if that was the case, though he didn’t let on that Kelsier had actually succeeded in his persuasion. If he knew, then he might never let Nico go. He might get both of them killed, when only one of them would have to die. Kelsier might proclaim that he was unbreakable, but Nico knew the truth. Hades could break anyone, if he wanted. And if he found out someone had been sheltering Nico, he might be angry enough to try. The last thing Nico wanted was to watch Kelsier shatter to pieces. So why was he so determined to stay? Why not just… run? “The only way this has a happy ending is if we both go our separate ways right now,” Nico murmured, but they both knew that wasn’t what he wanted. They both knew that being alone hurt, and you could only survive so long before you fell and had nobody there to pick you up. But dying alone was much better, in Nico’s opinion, then leaving someone behind to mourn you. Dying alone meant there was nobody in pain at your death, and wouldn’t that be a good thing? Just a little less pain in a world that was nothing but pain? “But I could stay,” Nico agreed quietly. “We could see how this works, and then one of us dies and the other has to deal with that, or the people who are after me catch up and then we both suffer, or maybe we live through this nightmare and then what?” Nico tried not to think about the future. He tried to take things day by day by day, and that didn’t always work. Sometimes it hurt far more than it helped. Could he take things day by day with this stranger? With this man who was willing to let him stay, who was offering his trust, and his time? “I’ll stay,” Nico whispered, wishing the tone of his voice didn’t betray how much saying that meant to him. “I’ll stay, but we take it day by day. And if you’re serious that you don’t expect trust or anything else or even any promises… then I’ll stay. For now.” He didn’t say that they would need to get moving, soon. Kelsier’s way of life would probably have to change drastically if they wanted to avoid the people that were after Nico. “No more promises,” he murmured after a moment. “I’ll accept that you won’t lie, but don’t promise not to leave. Don’t promise that anything will be okay, or that you don’t care what I’ve done. I don’t care what you believe, or how confident you are, there’s no room for anything but broken promises now.” What Nico didn’t say was that he didn’t think his heart could handle any more broken promises. He didn’t think he could survive it. Nico tensed as Kelsier finished, turning his head to stare at him for a long moment. “I know you’re confident,” he murmured, voice low. “I know you think you’re unbreakable, but don’t tempt fate. Even if you don’t believe in it, just… don’t.” Did Nico believe in fate? Perhaps. Perhaps just because it made it easier. Perhaps because if he was written as the villain, there was a reason this all had happened. It meant it wasn’t his fault for being the way he was, for doing the things he did. It meant it was inevitable. Believing in fate made it possible to sleep at night. Even if it was his fault, there were no other options if it had been fate. And if it was fate, maybe there was a chance that there was still something he could do to make up for it. Not that Nico was holding his breath for that. Nico met Kelsier’s eyes, holding on to that moment for as long as he needed. He wanted to run forward and hug him, he wanted to accept this new role he had taken on, unintentionally. He wanted Kelsier to hold him the way Bianca had held him when the world was going up in flames, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t, because that would be a promise to Kelsier that he would stay. That would be a guarantee that he believed Kelsier could protect him, and he couldn’t make either of those promises, even if they set Kelsier’s mind at ease. He couldn’t put that much of himself on the line here, couldn’t grant himself that much of a luxury. Did Nico trust Kelsier? Yes, he did. But not enough for the truth. Not enough that it made any difference at all. He stayed where he was, holding Kelsier’s gaze and wishing he could hold onto something more solid. Something that wouldn’t be broken merely by closing his eyes. His heart was beating so loudly he thought he could hear it in the near silent room. Every argument Nico had already said beat against the back of his head, but he stayed silent. This was when he had to choose. He had already told Kelsier that he would stay, but this was his time to actually make that decision. To make a promise to himself, regardless of whether or not he could keep it. He could take another step forward and hug Kelsier, could bridge that gap and let himself move forward, let himself be something other than the boy who started the apocalypse. But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t move on from that, he couldn’t tell such a huge lie to Kelsier when Kelsier had promised to tell him none at all. The logical next step was to run forward and accept his home in Kelsier’s arms. Which meant that somehow or another, Nico had to break this moment. He just wasn’t sure he was ready to do that yet. He could pretend, for just a little bit longer.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 23, 2020 2:14:19 GMT -5
Orpheus wasn’t like most other people, it seemed. L could have anticipated most people’s actions, he could have guessed what most people would do in a given situation, but not Orpheus. No, he didn’t know what the other man was going to do from moment to moment. All he knew was that he wanted to find out, he wanted to figure out this puzzle of a human being. He wanted to solve him. First, of course, he was going to have to get to know him a little bit better. He barely knew him at all at the moment, besides the fact that he could sing, and he liked canned peaches. Or, no, he didn’t know that, he knew he’d eaten canned peaches. That was not the same thing as liking them. He could have been desperate. He could have even been being polite, though that seemed wildly unlikely. People weren’t “polite” anymore. They were survivors, and they either got tough or they died. There didn’t seem to be room for anything else. And so L was wrong. For the first time in a while, actually. Orpheus seemed to do that to him, surprise him when most people couldn’t if they tried. He thought he’d seen it all, and in reality he hadn’t seen anything of Orpheus, he didn’t know this man, couldn’t predict his movements. Because Orpheus was quiet and gentle and alive. Living proof that L’s theory was wrong, so very wrong. Living proof that you didn’t have to be a horrible person to keep breathing, even if that was the excuse so many people gave for their actions. L stopped near Orpheus, gazing out the window. It was true that the sunrise over an ocean would have been even more dazzling, though L hadn’t seen many of those in his life. A few, but enough to stick out in his mind when Orpheus mentioned them. He looked at the other survivor, and even though he didn’t smile, there was something soft and warm in his dark eyes. “Greece.” He repeated, as though tasting the word. “I’ve been there, though not in a long time. I suppose it’s different now...I suppose everywhere is different now.” It hurt. But he supposed there was nothing he could really do about it, besides keep trying to stay alive. He could do that. He had to. He didn’t know what kept Orpheus going, but he knew everyone had something. Him, he was living off the need to fix this, to make it right. Justice wasn’t thriving at the moment, but he would help it all he could, because that was what he did. He fought the bad guys. Even if the bad guys happened to be dead in this case. Orpheus had to have something too, right? L didn’t know what it was, but he would find out eventually, if they stuck together for any amount of time. “Good point.” He agreed seriously. “I haven’t slept in 51 hours. But then, that isn’t so unusual.” For him, anyway, it wasn’t. “You’re welcome.” He continued, just as seriously. “I don’t have much to offer you, but perhaps if we work together, we can find something for breakfast. Unless of course you’ve changed your mind about wanting to stay? In which case, I wish you well.” His voice had gotten slightly more awkward, and he glanced away, not sure whether he should have said that. Oh well. It was out there now.
Ronan was used to anger, used to feeling hate so strong it seemed to poison him from the inside out. He hated the people responsible for his father’s death, he hated the world for falling apart and stealing the few friends he had. He hated himself sometimes, too, for letting it all happen. For not finding a way to stop it. But he had never and would never hate Noah. He couldn’t do that. His friends were everything to him, and more. His friends mattered more than he could ever explain to anyone, because he couldn’t even explain it to himself. If he’d known about Whelk...it wouldn’t have been pretty. He would kill Whelk, plain and simple, if he ever saw him. No one hurt Ronan Lynch’s friends and got away with it. Not before, and certainly not now. Maybe that was selfish. Maybe it was because Ronan was so very tired of being alone. Or maybe he just cared a lot more than he was willing to let on. Ronan wasn’t paying enough attention. He didn’t notice Noah cringing away from his description, and even if he had, he wouldn’t have questioned it. Maybe that was a mistake on his part. Maybe he should have wondered. But he didn’t. He was too blinded by the fact that he had his friend back. He didn’t know how fragile, how temporary it all was. He should probably have known. But then, it wasn’t that shocking that he was trying to hold onto the one good thing he had left now. He glanced at Noah, and he snorted. “Who cares?” He answered, a little too harshly. “Glendower...I don’t know. Maybe. But we didn’t find him, and now not even Gansey had time to look. We’re stuck, Noah. We’re stuck with this stupid rotten world, and dreams aren’t going to save us.” He sighed, dropping his hand to his side. He wanted to think there was hope for a magical cure, he really did. But the thing about magic was, it was rarely there when you needed it most. It hadn’t been there for Niall Lynch, had it? No point in crying, he supposed, even as the tears burned in the back of his head. He knew himself well enough to know they wouldn’t fall. He knew there was no outward sign of them, either. That was who he was, harsh and cold and bitter. Why the hell did Noah stay. Stop that, he told himself firmly, and sat up in the grass, shaking his head to clear it. He was moping, and it was stupid, and he ordered himself to stop it. He looked at Noah. He could read the boy well enough to see the tears in his expression. He watched at Noah rubbed the smudge on his cheek, and he didn’t say anything, because he wasn’t sure there was anything to say. He knew they were in dangerous ground, here, and he knew there wasn’t any point in pretending they weren’t. Things could go so badly wrong at any second. And yet, Ronan wanted to believe that it wouldn’t. He wanted to believe that things could be okay. He waited, but Noah didn’t join him. He tried not to be disappointed, because it would have been fun to lay there together. He didn’t completely succeed. He could see something in Noah’s eyes, he just didn’t know what it was.he watched the other boy, his head tilted up so that the sunlight hit his face, and he waited. For what, he didn’t know. “Yeah.” He agreed, his voice taking on a darker edge. “Whoever they are. They really deserve a good punch in the face.” He eyed Noah a moment longer, then got to his feet, brushing himself off. “So that’s what I’ve been up to.” He said. “What about you?”
Would Sherlock let Crutchie help? Perhaps. He had been alone for a while now, and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to change that, but maybe it was for the best that he had someone who cared about his work around. Maybe he needed that more than he thought he did. He didn’t expect Crutchie to want to help. He expected Crutchie to do what he needed to do to take advantage of Sherlock’s supplies. It wasn’t a bad trade, really, and he didn’t expect the boy to want anything else from him. He was going to be surprised when he actually got to know Crutchie as a person. They were both very good at being stubborn. It had kept them both alive, after all. Well, technically it was more luck that had kept Sherlock alive this long, considering how rarely he remembered to eat even when he did have food. Taking care of himself was, perhaps, not high on his top ten list of skills. “I can.” He insisted, a defensive note creeping into his tone. “It’s easy. I’ve seen it done and I remember the steps perfectly. The only things that could go wrong are the regular complications, nothing more.” He looked mutinous, as though somehow he had been personally insulted by Crutchie’s lack of faith in his abilities. He snorted, but he was definitely annoyed. “Obviously I’ve seen more than one, so I know how to do multiple types. Honestly, think about what you say before you say it and stop embarrassing yourself.” He looked down at the empty plate. He should have thought of eating only the crusts. He cleared his throat awkwardly, then picked up the plate and slid it where Crutchie wouldn’t knock in onto the floor by accident. He was still blind, after all. “Yes, that’s what I did.” He confirmed, deadpan. “I suppose we’ll have to throw the rest away.”
The thing was, Kelsier didn’t agree. He knew Nico did deserve that, and more, he knew Nico was a much better person than he was letting on. He also knew Nico wasn’t aware of that, and it wasn’t his fault. He could tell it had been hammered into the poor boy’s head for a long time now. At least he was still protecting himself. That meant he still had a survival instinct, he still had the will to live, even if it was being battered by guilt. Was it because he thought he could make up for whatever he’d done? Or did he even know why he still ran? Either way, he was alive, and that meant there was hope. Hope for a future, one where they weren’t running. Maybe even one where the dead stayed dead. Maybe they were both selfish. Maybe Kelsier wasn’t as kind as he seemed, maybe he was only asking Nico to stay because he was tired of being alone. Maybe he wasn’t a good person after all, and Nico had got him all wrong. Did he think that? He wasn’t sure. He thought it was a lot more possible than he often let on, anyway. Mare would have known the answer, he mused. She would have told him, and she wouldn’t have been afraid to put it as bluntly as she needed to. God he missed her. Even now, even after all this time...he missed her like a limb. Like half his heart was missing. Looking at Nico reminded him of all the reasons he had refused to quit after he’d lost her. Looking at Nico was like looking at the embodiment of everyone Kelsier wanted so badly to protect. If Nico felt guilty for staying, then Kelsier felt just as guilty for making him stay when he wasn’t sure of his own motives. He knew it was harder than it seemed, trust. He knew it wasn’t easy, and he knew there were plenty of reasons against it, but he didn’t care, because he had all the reasons for it that he needed. He was going to trust, and he was going to care. He wasn’t going to let the world take that away from him, no matter what. He already trusted Nico. If the boy thought he didn’t deserve that, that was too bad, because Kelsier had decided that he did. Maybe he didn’t know everything. Maybe he didn’t know exactly what Nico had done, why people wanted him dead. But he didn’t have to know everything yet, just to trust him. Kelsier actually laughed at that. “Not a lawyer.” He said, hazel eyes bright in the dim light. “And I’ll try not to be too offended that you thought I was. I suppose I do have some things in common with them, after all. Persuasiveness is definitely one of my top qualities, along with intellect and agility. Maybe I’m even better than a lawyer.” Did that mean he’d succeeded? Maybe. He wasn’t sure yet, but it was a good start. If Nico thought he was pursuasive, than he probably also thought his arguments were good, and that meant they were well on their way to figuring out how to stick together. And maybe, Nico even wanted to stay. Kelsier hoped so. He didn’t want to force Nico to do anything, he just wanted to protect him. “You don’t know that.” Kelsier said softly. They didn’t know that. Maybe they could have a happy ending together. Maybe that was possible, maybe they could actually beat the odds. Kelsier was good at trying that, anyway. Even if he didn’t always succeed, he had to try, right? Dying alone may have eased the burden of others when you did die, but that didn’t mean it was the best solution. Kelsier believed that loving someone, caring about them...it was worth it. It meant you were willing to risk your heart being broken. It meant you were willing to give your power away, your power to be protected. “You don’t know that will happen.” He pointed out, just as quietly. “Well, I suppose we’ll both die eventually. But you don’t know when, and you don’t know how, and we may well be happy long before then. Maybe they’ll catch up, and maybe we’ll fight them off. You don’t know the future, Nico. Don’t pretend you do.” His tone was extremely gentle, in order to take any edge off his words. You could take things day by day if you wanted to, you could even pretend there was no future at all, but at the end of each day you might find that you’re craving more. Kelsier did, anyway. But taking things day by day had its perks, too. It meant there was less that could go horribly wrong. It was just one day in approximately 29,200, give or take a few thousand. He nodded. He barely dared move as Nico agreed to stay, but he nodded, and he understood how much it meant. It meant the entire world for the two of them, because it meant they were no longer alone. It meant they didn’t have to go through this alone. For now, anyway. “I told you. I won’t lie.” He said quietly, and offered a small, genuine smile. “I’m serious. I don’t expect anything in return. After all, I don’t want to be alone, either. So you can think of me as selfish in this matter, if you like.” He hesitated, then nodded again. “I won’t promise not to make any more promises,” he said, and an eyebrow raised. The humor of his answer hadn’t escaped him. “But I understand. I don’t need any more broken promises in my life, either.” And he couldn’t promise everything would be okay. He knew that. He wasn’t even going to try. He stopped, because Nico was serious about not tempting fate. Could he truthfully promise he wouldn’t? His life was built on tempting fate, taunting it, daring it to come and get him. Did he believe in fate? That was a question he wasn’t prepared to answer, realized. If he did, why did it play with fire? If he didn’t, why did he always expect it to come back and bite him in the end? “I can’t promise that.” He said finally, and he kept his smile. “Fate hasn’t done much for me, truthfully. Whether I believe in it or not, I’m not its friend, and I prefer not to pretend I am. However, I only tease people I like, so I promise I won’t tease it.” If he believed in fate, that meant everything happened for a reason. It meant Mare had betrayed him for a reason, had died for a reason. Why did that thought hurt? Would he really rather it was all meaningless, in a world full of other meaningless things? When their eyes met, Kelsier knew he’d made the right decision. He could see the longing in Nico’s eyes, the way he desperately wanted to be loved like he should have been. The way he wanted to be a kid. But this world - no - *Hades* had stolen that from him, and that was, in every way, unforgivable. He didn’t need Nico to promise him anything. He didn’t need to know that Nico even trusted him, even didn’t hate him. He just needed Nico to stay. Because if Nico didn’t stay...anything could happen to him. The people after him could catch up, the dead could catch him off guard. as simple as starvation could easily be his undoing. Kelsier wouldn’t let those things happen. He would sooner offer his own arm for a feast than let Nico go hungry. That didn’t mean he didn’t want to know the truth, of course. He did. But he wasn’t going to let anything he did depend on getting it, and he didn’t expect Nico to volunteer the information, at least not for a long time. He watched the boy, wondering what he would do. He had said he’d stay, but that didn’t mean much for the future. And he could have easily said that just to get Kelsier off his back. Lull him into a false sense of security. Not that Kelsier necessarily believed that, but it was possible. Did Nico really plan to stay? And if so...how long would it last? He didn’t expect anything in return for his protection, his food, his trust. He had said that, and he meant it. But Nico had no reason to believe that. He had no reason to believe Kelsier wouldn’t demand payment later, and he had every reason to believe it was possible. So how could he blame him for being careful? No, he did more than not blame him. “You’re right to be careful.” He added finally, breaking the silence between them. “What’s the word of a stranger worth? I’m not lying, and I won’t lie, but you’re right to be cautious with your trust. Especially now, of all times.”
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 29, 2020 15:26:07 GMT -5
Orpheus wasn’t looking at L, instead focusing on the view out the window. It could have been any morning. Orpheus could be nursing a cup of coffee he didn’t much care for the taste of and getting ready to attend classes he was fascinated by, but never managed to do “well” in. He could be waiting for Eurydice to round the corner and make a sarcastic comment. Or he could be facing the end of the world with a man he had met the day before, who he knew absolutely nothing about. Suddenly, Orpheus felt very, very empty. There weren’t any zombies in sight, and the rest of the world felt like it was sleeping. As though it would wake up in a few hours and life would continue on as it always had before. Orpheus swallowed, staring just below the sun for a few moments as he tried to clear his head of the thoughts. Pretending this could be a normal morning was wrong, and even Orpheus wasn’t immune to the effect the end of the world had on the mind. He might have been more impacted by it, actually – he just showed it differently. Other people got violent. Orpheus delved into his music like it was a lifeline. Finally, he wrenched his gaze away from the sky and turned to look at L. The man was hard to read, that was for sure, though Orpheus had the impression he had a kind face. Perhaps his view was tinted by the fact that L had fed him and allowed him to stay the night – to potentially stay longer. That was a kind thing to do. “You’re probably right,” Orpheus murmured, just a few seconds too late after L had spoken. “It’s probably different.” The thought settled like a rock in the pit of Orpheus’ stomach. It was difficult to imagine his hometown as destroyed and ravaged as his surroundings were. It was difficult to wonder whether Mr. Hermes had made it out alright, or if he was dead, or worse. “I believe I took travel for granted before,” he admitted under his breath. He may not have done much of it before the apocalypse had brought everything down, but he’d done enough. Enough to feel caged when he’d been stranded, wishing there were someone, anyone around to speak his native language with. He’d started moving, then, going from town to town and facing harsh nights on his own when he had to. Orpheus almost jolted out of his thoughts when he heard L give a number. “Insomnia?” he asked gently, though he knew there were times when he was like that and it had nothing to do with insomnia. It had to do with the ideas that were building and building inside of him and threatened to dissolve if he didn’t get them down immediately. It had to do with lyrics and melodies burning to get out and days and days on end spent getting them just right. It was a luxury he’d been afforded more often when he hadn’t also needed to try to watch out for zombies. Surprise filled Orpheus’ gaze almost immediately afterwards, and he shook his head on reflex. “You don’t need to offer me anything. I’m here on your hospitality, please don’t worry about it.” He was halfway through trying to make it clear that he was grateful to L and needed nothing in return when he fell silent and the rest of what L had said clicked. “If you’ll still have me, I still would like to stay. I may not understand much of your research and it’s possible I won’t understand any of the conclusions you reach, but… I’m happy to stay and play for you or let you study the notes that impact the zombies or whatever you need… for as long as you don’t mind the company.” He had turned his attention fully away from the sunset, instead focusing on L entirely and meeting his dark, unreadable gaze with his own – lighter and as open as a picture book.
Noah wanted to tell Ronan everything. He wanted their friendship to be simple and uncomplicated, just like it had been when they were kids, but they had grown up. They had been molded by the world, and though Noah may not have been accustomed to feeling anger, he couldn’t get away from it now. No matter how much Noah longed for the days when he could run his fingers along the top of Ronan’s buzzed hair and giggle at the spiky feeling, those were behind them now. A whole generation of kids had been forced to grow up too fast, and Noah was so tired of it. A tiny, selfish part of him wished he had succumbed to the bite a long time ago. Wished he hadn’t seen Ronan again, because he didn’t want to live with the knowledge that he was going to destroy his best friend just by staying with him. Four years was a long time to spend wondering if you would even wake up in the morning, or if something wearing your skin would be the one to open your eyes. It was a long time to fight fear and uncertainty and the dread that lived in the pit of your stomach. Noah wanted to hold onto the pieces of himself he’d been so certain of before life had become living hell. He was so close to shattering, and he didn’t know how to hold on. Ronan was like an anchor, but what happened to the anchor when the ship sunk? It rotted away just the same. Four years of that kind of desperation was bound to drive anyone to look for a miracle. Noah wanted to find Glendower, wanted to beg him to let him live. Praying to every god he’d ever heard of only did so much, and Noah still felt so unbelievably alone. “Can you believe I wanted to wish for cool skateboarding skills and Gansey just wanted infinite books?” He gave a small huff of amusement. The world had changed so much since then. None of them had lost anything important to them, none of them had been taught yet how fragile life was, and what it meant to hold onto it. Selfishly, Noah was fairly certain he was one of the few people in the world who knew exactly how much life mattered. How every day was a triumph, because he was doomed to die. Every day was a miracle for Noah – was it really that far-fetched to believe there might be another miracle out there? Noah needed Ronan’s strength. He needed the ability to look at the worst of situations, give it the middle finger and a particularly good punch, and then walk away unscathed. He needed the way Ronan looked intimidating and scary to hide the soft heart underneath, because Noah himself was soft all the way through and he could hide under Ronan’s shell just as surely as Ronan himself could. In the simplest of terms, Noah stayed because he loved Ronan, and love made him need him. If he was going to die, it was only right the universe give him a last couple of days with his best friend. He caught the disappointment in Ronan’s gaze as the other boy sat up, and he pushed away the feeling of shame. He would not ruin this place for Ronan, even by accident. He absolutely refused to. “I… I’ve been wandering,” Noah admitted truthfully, his hand drifting back down to his side. “Whelk and his buddies – do you remember them? Picked me up on their way out of Henrietta, and I stayed with them for a bit. We…” he threw me to the zombies and left me there to die. He ran and used me as his sacrifice to save his own skin. He never cared. You don’t have to outrun the zombies if you can outrun Noah. “We got separated,” he managed, voice quiet. “I’ve been alone for four years now, and I was trying to find my way back to Henrietta but there aren’t exactly updated maps now. In truth, I didn’t know which way to go."
Crutchie didn’t give a damn about Sherlock’s supplies. Obviously it was nice to have the assurance that he wouldn’t starve to death or die of dehydration here, but he didn’t care about that. If he wanted to make a life with someone a little more pleasant to be around, he would have kept going. It wouldn’t have been particularly difficult, as the bar was low. What Crutchie did care about was the cure. The chance to help Sherlock find it, if possible. The secret was hidden somewhere in his DNA and even if it was near impossible to decode, Sherlock was brilliant if the poison had been any indication. Brilliant, but not particularly sensitive to the fact that other living, breathing human beings existed. “People used to go to medical school for years to do it properly,” Crutchie retorted, shaking his head. He supposed if it came down to the need to have surgery he would rather have someone who had at least seen it done rather than someone who had absolutely no idea what they were doing, but he didn’t expect he would wake up in either situation. “Maybe if you stop thinking you’re better than everyone else and smarter than everyone else just by virtue of the fact you’ve got a good memory or whatever it is, you’ll stop embarrassing yourself.” It wasn’t mean spirited, but he wasn’t teasing either. Sherlock had a way of getting under his skin, and if possible, Crutchie wanted to shut that down as soon as possible. He wasn’t offended by Sherlock’s assertion that he could perform surgery, but it certainly was indicative of Sherlock’s mindset. Crutchie was fairly certain it was only the fact that he needed to be alive for Sherlock to run his experiments that kept him from ending up dead in front of Sherlock because his life mattered less in Sherlock’s eyes than the detective’s own. He didn’t seem to be able to see the value in other people, which was… concerning. “Your food to waste, not mine,” Crutchie replied airily, though in truth the idea of throwing away food made him angrier than he cared to admit. It was like Sherlock just didn’t care that what he had thrown away was probably enough to keep someone alive for another couple of days. Throwing it away was more than wasteful, it was a slap in the face of everyone trying to survive. Not that Crutchie could say that, because he’d been the one to suggest it in the first place. It was just that he had thought Sherlock wouldn’t be dumb enough to actually go for that option out of pure stubbornness.
Nico wished more than anything that he knew the right thing to do. He wished there were promises he could make to Kelsier, wished he was a normal kid who had the power to say he was going to stay. He wished he didn’t have to feel guilty about wanting to be near other people, to feel the companionship he had once felt that led to the entire world going up in metaphorical flames. Every instinct he had was telling him to run now, but he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t give in to that impulse, though he couldn’t quite explain why. He blamed Kelsier. He blamed Kelsier for being kind and carrying him here and letting him rest and making food – actual food – and for all of his stupid promises that Nico, in spite of himself, actually believed. H was setting himself up for heartbreak, but the part of him that was still a kid, the part that wanted comfort and friendship, didn’t care. It was selfish, and not in the way Kelsier was claiming his own intentions were. “Good,” Nico murmured under his breath, looking up at Kelsier carefully. “Lawyers are the worst.” At first, Nico and Bianca had been placed in the care of a lawyer as Hades tried to sort out the whole situation, lest his kids become targets of the people who were angry at Hades for what he had caused. Nico knew that that the only reason he’d been kept safe was because Bianca had refused to go without him. Bianca had saved his life, and he’d done nothing at all to save hers. The thought clawed at him, reminding him once again how bad an idea it was to get attached to anyone. Especially because everything could repeat itself. Kelsier was promising to keep Nico safe, and if Nico’s past caught up to him there was absolutely nothing he could do to return the favor. Kelsier could die, or worse, and there would be nothing Nico could do other than hear about it later, or maybe even never learn the truth. “No, I don’t know,” Nico admitted after a long moment, watching Kelsier to see if he’d manage to catch him in a lie, to find something that didn’t line up in what he was saying, but he was left empty handed. “But given the way the world is going,” he continued, still holding Kelsier’s gaze, “I don’t think it’s unfair to assume that things could go horribly wrong.” There were dangers Kelsier didn’t understand, and Nico couldn’t explain them to him without either putting him in more danger or risking the loss of the only ally he’d managed to find since striking out on his own. If he betrayed Kelsier’s trust, if Kelsier found out who he was… perhaps that was the end of the last good person. Nico didn’t want that kind of weight on his shoulders, not when he already had the whole apocalypse to bear. “I don’t understand,” Nico began softly, shaking his head, “How you can be so optimistic about the future when everything in the past is just begging to prove you wrong.” It wasn’t that Nico was a pessimist. He didn’t want to see the world as a dying thing, giving its last gasps as humanity struggled to stay alive. He didn’t want to believe he was the reason this world existed as it did. It was just that believing anything else was bound to fall through at some point. There were no happy endings, if there ever had been. Believing that he was responsible for all of it was also easier than admitting that his father could be wrong. It was easier than seeing the monster in Hades, because he was still Nico’s father. He couldn’t have caused this. Nico’s dark eyes searched Kelsier’s, asking a thousand questions he couldn’t give voice to, a thousand tentative hopes that he was scared to admit he had. Kelsier was hope as far as Nico was concerned, and he didn’t want to shatter that. He looked away after several long seconds, cracking a tiny smile. “You know, if the world weren’t in the middle of ending, I’m pretty sure that’s a textbook example of ‘if an adult says that to you, run.’” He gave a soft huff of amusement, though he knew it wasn’t the right time to be joking about anything serious. He was trying to think of reasons to back away and go on living his own life. He was trying to convince himself that leaving made more sense, but he knew it wasn’t true. He was so tired of being alone, and as long as he left before Kelsier was in danger… it would be okay, right? Because the thought of Kelsier walking through the door and not coming back out was more terrifying than Nico was willing to admit. He didn’t need anyone. He’d never needed anyone. But he wanted to accept Kelsier’s offer, and there was no reason not to. Unless, of course, he was lying when he promised not to. Nico took in a deep breath, twisting his ring around and around on his finger. “That’s why I can’t promise you anything,” he murmured, looking up at Kelsier again for another few moments. “I’m tired of broken promises.” It was a broken promise that had caused everything to go wrong. If Kelsier broke one of his promises, even accidentally, especially after Nico had warned him… well, that would be as good a reason as any to leave and save them both a lot of heartbreak. Or it would cause some heartbreak. Either way, it was better than most of the ways Nico saw this potential friendship ending. Either way, Nico knew deep down that they had to stop this before it became a friendship – there was far too much on the line. “You don’t have to be fate’s friend to avoid baiting it,” Nico mumbled, though he understood where Kelsier was coming from. He knew that if fate was real, he already had a massive target on his back, and he didn’t want to paint it neon yellow and cast out a dozen arrows pointing directly to them. Still, there was something brave and defiant about being happy in spite of everything. Kelsier knew how to fight fate far better than Nico did, and if they stayed together… maybe Nico would allow himself to learn a little bit. He was bone-tired of being afraid of what might happen. He was tired of surviving when there was a whole life he could be living. He could already tell Kelsier was going to be a bad influence, when it came to staying safe. The thing was… he might just be a good influence when it came to everything else. That was the danger here. Nico trusted him, wanted to believe him, wanted to stay. Nico was a curse, a bad luck charm. He didn’t know if he was strong enough not to pull Kelsier down with him. The things Kelsier was promising… god, they were tempting. Nico wanted so badly to give in. Convenience, he reminded himself, though he knew that wasn’t the truth. He knew it was more than that. “You don’t make much sense,” Nico said, his words careful and measured. “You’re so free with your own trust and you don’t expect any in return. I don’t… I don’t get it,” he admitted. Trying to wrap his head around it was near impossible. “It only makes sense if you’re lying, if you want something, but…” he shook his head. He couldn’t finish that thought. He couldn’t’ admit out loud, not yet, that he trusted Kelsier. That somehow this man had convinced him to listen to his heart instead of his head. That he’d reminded him he had a heart in the first place.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 5, 2020 10:34:58 GMT -5
L was watching Orpheus. He knew the world outside was beautiful, and he understood that the sunset lit it up, making it open and wild and free. But that would have meant looking away from Orpheus, and he didn’t yet trust him enough to do that. So he watched the other man, wide, dark eyes intensely focused. They were very alone. The whole world seemed to have gone to sleep, aside from some morning birds just beginning to sing their songs. Orpheus reminded L of those birds; up at dawn, song probably already in his head. Because L may not have known him for very long, but he could already tell that songs were a very important part of his life. He still wondered whether Orpheus was as passive as he seemed. He could have been anyone, after all, and there were not a lot of good people left now. He could be anyone that it served him well to be, and he chose this. He chose to be alive. L understood. He, too, had chosen to be alive, and to not kill, not unless he absolutely had to. He hadn’t had to yet. He truly hoped it would stay that way, because the last thing he wanted was blood on his hands. He met Orpheus’ eyes as the other man turned to him, and he didn’t smile - not yet - but did tilt his head slightly, acknowledging him. Had he done what he did out of kindness, or something else? Maybe he was just selfishly lonely. No, he shook that thought away, he wasn’t lonely, because he had always been alone. Well, aside from Watari. He hadn’t meant to remind Orpheus that things were different now, but that was what he had done. He couldn’t take it back, either. He just had to hope the memories weren’t as bad as some were, and hope that Orpheus didn’t think he’d done it on purpose. “Yes. So did I.” He agreed in a low voice, looking away at last. His dark eyes flicked to the window, the sunrise drawing his attention like moths. “I could always go somewhere new if I didn’t like where I was. I can’t do that anymore. It’s...distressing, I suppose.” He hesitated. When was it insomnia, and when was it something else? He wasn’t actually sure. Yes, he’d been awake, and yes, he probably couldn’t have slept if he’d tried, but the point was that he hadn’t tried. He hadn’t gotten tired. His body probably needed rest, if every doctor he’d ever spoken to was to be believed, but was he going to start sleeping more? He knew he wasn’t. “Not insomnia.” He decided out loud. “I just don’t sleep much.” He raised his eyebrows slightly. “I don’t mind.” He told him. “If you help me find food, it’s only fair that you help me consume it as well, don’t you think? I would be remiss if I asked for your help and then turned you away when you were hungry. I’m not going to do that.” He made it sound as simple as anything, as simple as if people could just share their food without starving to death. As though the world still worked like that. He looked back at Orpheus, surprise flickering over his intense gaze. “You want to stay?” He asked, his voice low and hesitant. He hadn’t really expected that. He had thought….well, he had assumed Orpheus would eat what food he had, and then go. He had prepared himself for that, and now that is wasn’t happening, he felt he needed to find a reason Orpheus might want to stay. Perhaps he thought this was his best chance at getting more food. Or perhaps… Perhaps he was lonely. If so, L was sorry for him already. He knew he wasn’t the company Orpheus probably wanted. But he met Orpheus’ eyes. And what he saw convinced him that the rest was true. Orpheus wanted to stay, and he was even willing to help, willing to offer his music up to be studied. “Thank you.” He said sincerely, dipping his head slightly. “I’m grateful. Your music is fascinating, and I would like to study its effects more, if you’ll allow it.” He hesitated, gazing into the other survivor’s open eyes. Then he turned away, heading for the door. “We should get going. Early morning is the best time to look for food.”
Nothing was simple anymore. Ronan knew that, perhaps better than most. He remembered when they were little, when Niall Lynch had been alive, and he knew those times would never come again, not ever. He knew Noah was his friend still, at least, but things were different now. They were all alone, the gang had split up, and the last song had been sung. It was time for what came next. Only Ronan didn’t know what that was. He had no idea what he was doing in this situation. He had no way of knowing that the rules were, now, and he didn’t think he was going to be able to find out any way but the hard way. He didn’t know what it was Noah couldn’t seem to tell him. He wished the trust that they’d had between them hadn’t broken so easily. He wished there was a way to go back, somehow, go back to the way things were, but that was wishful thinking and neither of them had the time for that now. Maybe they didn’t even have time to be friends anymore. Screw that. Ronan looked at his best friend, closer than a brother, and he told the apocalypse to f*ck right off. He was Noah’s friend, now and always, and the end of the world wouldn’t take that away from him. He wouldn’t let it. Maybe if he’d known the truth, he would have made a different decision. Or maybe that was just the decision he had to make, as Ronan Lynch, destroyer and friend, walking contradiction. Maybe nothing would change that. Was that wishful thinking? No. Wishful thinking was hoping for Glendower, hoping for a miracle. Even thinking a miracle could exist. Gansey might have believed they could find him, might have thought they had to even, but Ronan had always been in it for his friends, in the end. And himself, of course. But mostly his friends. Mostly because it brought them all closer together to have something to do, something to focus on. And god knew Ronan needed that. He snorted. “For the record, that was dumb even before the apocalypse.” He told Noah, grinning in spite of himself. He didn’t say what he had been going to wish for. He didn’t want to ruin the mood. Noah may not have known it, but the last thing he probably needed was Ronan. Ronan was broken; Ronan was bent out of shape, but not shattered, not yet. Of all the things he was, Ronan was not conductive to healing, because he himself had long ago forgotten how to do that exact thing. He loved Noah. But he wasn’t good for him, or so he assumed. He knew he was reckless and he knew he wasn’t easy to be friends with. He also knew that Noah deserved a friend who wasn’t so risky to be around. He would never, ever admit it to anyone, not even himself. But he knew he didn’t deserve Noah. He got to his feet, ignoring the feeling that he’d just been rejected. That was stupid. Noah hadn’t rejected him, he’d just...well, Ronan wasn’t entirely sure what he’d done. He didn’t really understand this new Noah. How was he the same as the old Noah? How was he different? It was so hard to tell. It was so hard to know where the boys stopped and the apocalypse began. “Yeah, I remember him.” Ronan nodded, confirming what he’d just said. Whelk seemed friendly enough, which of course meant that Ronan didn’t trust him. But if he’d been there for Noah, then he couldn’t be too bad, right? If they’d looked out for Noah, then they were more than okay in Ronan’s books, and that was saying something. “That sucks.” He said, instead of all the things he could have said. Like I’m sorry or why wasn’t I there for you? “Well, now you’re stuck with me.” He added, forcing a lighter tone. “And we’re gonna find Henrietta if it kills us. The others have got to be out there somewhere, and if they aren’t dead, we’ll find them. I promise.” Ronan Lynch did not make promises lightly. But looking into Noah’s eyes, his own gaze hardened, and he wasn’t lying. He meant exactly what he said.
Oh, these two were stubborn. Sherlock wasn’t entirely sure what Crutchie was doing, or why he was here, or what he wanted. He seemed...oddly selfless, for a survivor of the apocalypse. Sherlock couldn’t help but feel unsettled about that, because no one was supposed to be selfless, not before, and certainly not now. Oh well. Crutchie probably had some terrible secret he was hiding, anyway. If Sherlock never solved that particular mystery, then he would still be able to live with himself. It wasn’t really his most pressing concern. The cure mattered more than anything else did, now. Sherlock didn’t think of it as a selfless endeavor - he was doing it for himself after all, to satisfy his own curiosity - but it would help other people. He knew that, he just didn’t think about it that much. He was too busy trying to figure out how the virus worked. “I’m not ‘people’.” He snapped, definitely irritated now. “I’m smarter than the majority of humanity. I can remember anything I choose to, and I chose to remember that, and if you ever need surgery in this damn apocalypse, I’m your best bet by far!” He shouldn’t let Crutchie get under his skin. He knew that. But at the same time, he wasn’t very good at stopping him, either. So maybe that was just something they were going to have to live with. He scowled. “I’m not embarrassing myself by telling the truth.” He said, his tone dark. “Maybe you should shut your mouth and think before you open it again. You’re jealous because you know I’m right.” Which was an extremely childish thing to say, and he knew it. He wasn’t taking it back, though. He glared at Crutchie for a moment longer, than turned away and glared at his chemical set instead, as though it too had offended him. “Yes, it is.” He agreed, and it was almost a snap. Almost. “So please be grateful that I fed you at all, and stop bothering me before I throw you out and find a new, quieter subject. You’re annoying.” He turned and stalked over to his chemistry set, and began to tweak it, tossing words over his shoulder as he did. “Your sight would be returning at any time, now. Tell me any other side effects you have immediately. If you don’t, you could combust or something, this is all very new territory.” The chances of Critchie spontaneously combusting were astronomically low. But he was still angry, and he didn’t feel like pointed that particular bit of information out.
The right thing. How was anyone supposed to know the right thing to do? Kelsier sure as hell didn’t. Well, he did know that letting Nico stay, convincing him he should, he knew that was the right thing to do, but he wasn’t so sure about everything else. At least Nico had given him something to be sure about. He was grateful for that. Even if he knew it was the same thing Nico was so unsure about. He hoped Nico didn’t run. He really hoped that. But at the same time, he knew he’d understand if he did, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to blame him for it. How could he blame the boy for something he did while trying to keep himself alive? Self-preservation was a good instinct to have these days. And though Kelsier knew he wasn’t a threat, there was no way for Nico to know that. He laughed lightly. “Yes, they are.” He agreed, having had plenty of run-ins with lawyers in the past. Of course, they’d usually been hired to defend him, but that didn’t mean he had to like them, right? He supposed he could tell Nico what he’d really been before. But it might be more fun to leave it a secret for now. A mystery, to be solved, or answered, at a later date. He didn’t know all of Nico’s secrets, not by a long shot. All he really knew about this kid was that he was being chased by someone, or multiple someone’s, and that he’d done something he wasn’t proud of doing. Should that have scared him away? Maybe, but it didn’t. It made him want to protect this kid, defend him, until he felt safe enough to talk about what he’d done, and even afterwards. Maybe even forever, or as long as Kelsier himself lasted. At least Nico admitted he didn’t know. Some people would pretend they knew things they had no way of knowing, or act like they couldn’t possibly be wrong. Not Nico. He tried to act confident, yes, but he didn’t seem to lie. Honestly seemed to be important to him, which was why that was what Kelsier was offering. Honestly. And something else, too. “You’re not wrong.” He admitted, because he had promised honestly, and he wasn’t about to get called out this early in the game. “Things could always go horribly wrong, but that was true before, too. Maybe not to the extent that it is now, but really, all that’s changed is what’s dangerous. You aren’t likely to die from car crashes anymore, for example.” He smiled, hoping to offer something like safety to the boy on the run. Hoping it was enough to bridge the gap between them, and if not, hoping it was a start. His choices shouldn’t have been another weight for Nico to bear. It should have been a refuge, a place to hide when the whole world went to hell, and there seemed to be nothing left. That was what Kelsier intended, anyway. “It’s not always easy.” He admitted, leaning back. He was still smiling the same gentle smile he’d worn before, but there was a crease between his eyes that hadn’t been there before that betrayed him. He was deep in thought, wondering what the best way forward was, and he wanted to answer as honestly as he could. But at the same time, did he know how he could be so optimistic? Did he really understand anymore than Nico did? Maybe not. Maybe he was flying at blind as the boy was, maybe they were flying blind together. And maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t such a bad thing. Kelsier believed in happy endings. He believed in the sun and he believed in warm summer days and cool evenings and sunsets and sunrises and cycles of the moon and constellations scattered across the sky like spilled rice. Was that wrong? He didn’t think it was. He thought it was beautiful, how the world kept moving even though humanity was shattered like a mirror. If Kelsier was hope, then didn’t he need to share that? Didn’t he need to give it to someone else, someone who needed it? That was his philosophy, anyway. He grinned, his gentle smile giving way to something far more boyish. “Probably.” He agreed lightly. As though he wasn’t encouraging Nico to run away from him. “But since the world is in the middle of ending, or beginning, or whatever it thinks it’s doing, I think it’s probably alright. Don’t you?” Maybe now was the perfect time to joke about something serious. After all, jokes could keep you going when nothing else could. Kelsier had learned the hard way that sometimes, humor was all you had, so you better cling to it like a rope to a drowning man. Like Kelsier had when Mare has betrayed him, and then again when she’d died. It would be okay. It had to be okay. Kelsier knew Nico could be the death of him, but he discovered he didn’t really care. He wanted Nico to stay, he wanted to protect him, and he wasn’t going to change his mind. He wouldn’t leave, not unless Nico really actually wanted him to. And maybe, maybe not even then. Kelsier nodded. He understood, he really did. He may not have feared broken promises as much as Nico did, but Mare’s betrayal had taken something from him. He now knew more about broken promises than he’d ever wanted to, and he knew what they could take from a person. He didn’t want that for Nico. He wanted to be the one thing in this screwed up world that Nico didn’t have to worry about. He didn’t knows whether that was possible, but he was going to try. “That’s okay.” He said, and a small smile touched his hawk-like features. “I’d rather you didn’t promise me anything, rather than you having to break those promises. But I’m making the promises I make because I know I won’t break them. Nothing this world can do to me can take that away from me.” He was confident, maybe too confident. But he really did believe what he was saying. “No, you don’t.” He agreed, raising a finger, still smiling. “But I’m not afraid of fate. I’m not afraid of what might happen to me if I bait it. It can do its damn worst to me, and see if I care. I’ve been through worse.” He was a target already. What was the worst that could happen? That it would get angry with him, strike him down, put him in his place? Been there, done that. It had taken Mare away from him, if he decided he believed it existed at all. He didn’t have anything left for it to steal away, besides his life. And that, he promised grimly, it would have a hell of a time taking from him. No, he chose to be happy, in spite of the awful circumstances. In spite of everything, he still chose to smile. To encourage. To give hope. that was what he chose, and that was what no one could take from him. Nico may have believed in bad luck, but Kelsier believed in good luck, too. He believed that good things could still happen. And he wanted Nico to believe that, too. That was why he was really here. Not to put them in danger, not even because he was tired of being alone. Because Nico was lonely, and Kelsier didn’t want to leave him defenseless against the world that knew how to break people into shards of sharp, colorful glass. Convenience may have had something to do with it, but Kelsier did think it had much. Because really, they were inconvenient to each other, survival-wise. So it had to be something else, right? “My trust is one of the few gifts I have left to give.” The older survivor explained, inclining his head slightly to one side as he spoke, a hint of his smile still clinging to the edges of his lips. “What use is it if I keep it to myself? That would be like refusing to give you your birthday present because I was afraid you might break it. It would be sad if you did, but nothing is more sad to me than trust that remains in a person’s pocket, safe but unused. Useless.” He looked down at the uneaten soup on the table between them. “If you think I’m lying, that’s entirely your decision. I respect that. But if you stay, you get to find out I’m not. Deal?”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 13, 2020 19:09:20 GMT -5
Despite everything, Orpheus didn’t know what it was like not to trust. He didn’t trust zombies, of course, but nobody did. Orpheus gave his whole heart to the strangers he encountered when he travelled. If they let him play for them, if they gave him a campfire around which to spend the night, if they went so far as to spare some of their food for him… Orpheus trusted them. He knew when he wasn’t wanted anymore, he knew when it was time to move on, when he was more of a burden than anything else. He was good at telling when it was time to move on, but he wasn’t good at distrusting the people around him. He knew there weren’t very many people who entirely trusted him, but there was something about the music that had a tendency to make people believe the best of him, and Orpheus had a tendency to return the favor. He could have been stabbed and left for dead so many times, and nobody would have cared. It was something about the music that drew people in, reminded them of what humanity was supposed to be, and served as something of a suit of armor around Orpheus. It was because of Orpheus’ music that he was never truly lonely. He could make friends wherever he went, and he held their names in his heart long after they had journeyed on and either forgotten him, died, or somehow lived on. He wondered how many of the people he’d played for still lived. He wondered if he’d ever see them again. Still, there was only one person he was fighting for. One person he stayed alive for, day after day when it would be so much easier to just give in. He was going to get Eurydice back. That was all that mattered. She had been turned because of him. The thought made Orpheus’ jaw tighten and his brow knit closer together. He drew his attention away from the sky – which no longer looked like it was on fire and had instead settled down into the warm yellow of early morning – and towards L. He listened, giving a slight nod. “I could never afford to travel all that much, but it was nice when I could. I… I had been saving, before all this happened. I had university mostly paid for, but I was working so I could go somewhere afterwards. I wanted to…” he trailed off, his throat clogging up with emotion. These weren’t the sort of things he’d meant to tell a stranger, but L just felt easy to share with. He didn’t quite finish the thought though. He had wanted to take Eurydice home, to Greece. He had wanted to show her his home, let her see where he’d grown up. He had wanted to propose to her in front of the little waterfall where he’d written his first song and gotten upset because the water had gotten into his guitar when he set it down, completely ignoring the fact that waterfalls had a tendency to spray water. That was never going to happen, now, and it was too raw to share. It had happened a few years before, but still. Time didn’t tend to heal wounds when you forced them open every day and reminded yourself that you promised you wouldn’t die until those wounds healed. He sighed, glancing down at the windowsill. It was reflecting a little bit of the sunlight, just beyond the horizon where some of the burst of color had been the most concentrated. One day, he might ask L where his favorite place to go had been. For now, he didn’t feel as though he knew the detective well enough, and he didn’t want to ruin something that could be good just by being a little bit too forward and invasive. “Oh,” he murmured, meeting L’s eyes. “I… I get that,” he replied quietly, though he couldn’t manage lasting as long as L seemed to be able to without sleep. “You’re kinder than most people,” Orpheus observed, laughing lightly to himself. “Most people decide they want at least a song or two before breakfast. I’m not complaining, really, more often than not they have some food they’re willing to spare, but I’m sure you’ve noticed, people tend to be a little bit possessive.” He stretched, settling his guitar back into a comfortable position on his back, and turned back to L. “You’ve been kinder than I deserve,” he added after a few moments, “Even if I do manage to help you find food. Besides, I’ll be playing anyone, no matter where I go. I’d rather have a roof over my head and someone interested in the notes I managed to affix to the guitar.” It took him a moment to follow L, but it was more a moment of thought than reluctance. He had a feeling this arrangement wouldn’t last long, but he could hope. “Anywhere nearby you think might be stocked?”
Noah straightened up, listening to the bird song for a few more moments and allowing himself – just for a second – to smile. This was truly a beautiful place, but he couldn’t help but feel it was also a lie. This wasn’t what the real world was like, it was just a promise that couldn’t be kept anywhere but here. Just like Noah himself was a lie. He could pretend all he wanted that he was human, that he still knew what it meant to be human, but he wasn’t. Or, if he still was, he wasn’t going to be for much longer. It was a harsh reality to face, the knowledge that he could hide the disease from Ronan for as long as he wanted, but ultimately he was being selfish. He just couldn’t bite him, that was all it meant… right? Ronan would be safe if he left before the danger made itself evident. Or maybe, maybe this wasn’t a lie at all. Maybe Noah would stay human, maybe this place was what the world was actually supposed to look like, maybe. Maybe that was wishful thinking. It would be so easy to just tell Ronan the truth. It would be easy to watch Ronan’s sharp smile turn into a weapon, to feel the weight of Ronan on top of him as he went for the kill. Maybe telling him now would be better than letting him find out later. He was supposed to trust Ronan. That was part of being best friends. But to trust him also meant to hurt him, and Noah wasn’t sure he was capable of doing that consciously. He should have run when Ronan said not to. He should have dealt with the consequences then. “We were kids looking for something to do,” Noah retorted, raising an eyebrow. “It wasn’t that dumb!” Except for the part where he’d believed wholeheartedly that they’d get a wish. The part where they had been naïve enough to believe that the world would be willing to give them anything. The world wasn’t like that. It wasn’t kind. It didn’t care. Still, it was nice to think of the past they shared. The one where they could believe that there might be kings with wishes for them, if only they looked in the right place. Part of Noah, the small, naïve part that still equated skateboarding with flying, still believed that Glendower could be out there. That they could find them, and put this whole apocalypse business to rest. He was so tired of being afraid. He even would have been willing to die if it meant that nobody else had to face what he did. “If I remember correctly, you didn’t like him much,” Noah teased slightly, but he didn’t say that Ronan was a better judge of character than he was. He didn’t say that he shared that opinion now. He didn’t acknowledge what happened, because he didn’t want to die. Selfishly, he just wanted to feel alive. He wanted to breathe without the worry that when he inhaled he would be someone fundamentally different from who he wanted to be. Noah nodded, almost laughing. “Yeah, it does suck.” He didn’t like acknowledging his own suffering to other people. He didn’t like talking about his issues unless they were brought up, and he knew Ronan didn’t like talking about his at all. Yeah, he could complain all he wanted, but he didn’t want to talk about what really mattered. Maybe that’s why it felt so easy to keep this secret. “Stuck with you?” Noah protested, giving a full smile that almost felt entirely genuine. “I wouldn’t trade you for anything else in the world.” He paused, pretending to consider. “Except maybe a room full of glittery snow globes. Then I’d have to reconsider.” His expression grew slightly more serious as he met Ronan’s gaze and nodded. “You really think we can? I… don’t even know where we are now,” he admitted, though it seemed Ronan had been here for some time. He was more likely to know than Noah was. “I was always pretty shit at geography.” He fell silent, though, as Ronan made his promise. He knew what a promise meant from Ronan. He didn’t quite feel like he deserved one. “Okay,” he murmured, giving a small nod. “Let’s do it.”
It seemed to Crutchie as though Sherlock oscillated between difficult to work with and downright impossible. This was going to be a long couple of months, assuming Crutchie even survived that long. Given the first “experiment,” that didn’t seem very likely. Maybe Sherlock wasn’t always willing to take that many risks, but Crutchie found it much more likely that Sherlock just thought himself the only human being in the world who mattered. The rest were expendable. If looking for the cure hadn’t been interesting to Sherlock, Crutchie found he doubted the detective would even put the effort in. He pursed his lips, crossing his arms and wishing he could glare at Sherlock. He probably could try, but the effort would seem laughable if he didn’t even look in the right area. “Yeah, smart enough to get your head bashed in by a blind fourteen-year-old because you don’t know when to shut up,” Crutchie retorted, almost as though he hadn’t intended Sherlock to hear. He knew he was going to, though, and his only regret was that he wouldn’t be able to see Sherlock’s reaction. “If I need a surgery, fine. But only because you’re the only one I know who’d be willing to try, not because you’re better than everyone else.” He just rolled his eyes at Sherlocks next statement, knowing that would be far more effective than trying to glare. Sherlock was being childish, and Crutchie knew how to deal with children. Usually. Except usually, he was the one in a position of power, and when he gave a child a stern look, they usually understood what they had done wrong. They usually apologized. Sherlock didn’t seem the type to do that, so Crutchie just refused to dignify him with an answer. He wasn’t going to be baited in to that argument. “I think,” Crutchie deadpanned, “You forget that I’m doing you a huge favor by being here. Good luck waiting a couple of decades for your next willing test subject.” He shut his mouth almost immediately as Sherlock’s next words processed. Combustion didn’t seem likely, but then again neither had blindness before it had happened. Really, anything seemed like it could be in the realm of possibility when it came to Sherlock, which was extraordinarily annoying. “You’re enjoying this,” he accused, crossing his arms. “It’d be one thing if it was just an experiment to you, but you’re genuinely enjoying not giving me all the information. Aren’t you?” If he was, it seemed like one more reason to dislike Sherlock. Not that he was short on those, but… if it kept up like this he might have to reevaluate how worth it it was to stay.
Nico watched Kelsier very carefully, eyes fixed on the now abandoned soup can he’d been eating from. If it had been poisoned, it would have taken effect by now. If Kelsier had wanted to do away with him and reap whatever rewards his father was offering, he’d had multiple chances to do so. Yet he hadn’t, and that felt like an important point in his favor. But Nico had already let himself believe that Kelsier was telling the truth, that he was a good person, it was just that it was so much easier to give him a hard time than it was to accept that. To let Kelsier know he believed him. It was easier to present Kelsier with all of the arguments Nico’s logic was making against him, and force Kelsier to give those answers rather than having to figure them out for himself. It was probably good practice anyway to know exactly what Kelsier would do if he thought himself distrusted. And he was still distrusted, there was no question about that. Nico may have liked him, he may have even believed him, but he didn’t trust him. He thought him likely to break his promises, and in Nico’s eyes, that was just about the worst thing someone could do. Besides destroy the entire world. “I’d take car crashes over zombies any day of the week,” Nico admitted, shaking his head. “At least car crashes can’t follow you everywhere. And they’re over pretty quickly.” If cars could still run, if there was enough gasoline to start up any of the pieces of junk that were so commonly walked past, then maybe there would have been a way to get away. To find somewhere safe. Assuming there was even one place that wasn’t entirely devastated. “Things could go horribly wrong before, but at least there were systems in place before that were meant to protect against that,” Nico added, shaking his head. “If something goes wrong now, nobody cares. You have to face it alone.” He really needed to stop letting his personal experiences seep into his responses, but it seemed a part of him did trust Kelsier, at least enough to share things under the guise of hypotheticals. They were both smart enough to know that things with that sort of weight weren’t usually hypothetical. The thing was, Nico was so tired of running, of being alone, of not being able to trust anyone, and what Kelsier was offering… that was Nico’s idea of paradise. The only issue was he didn’t feel like he deserved it, and he didn’t want to put Kelsier at risk. He didn’t want to put a target over Kelsier’s head, because he knew Hades couldn’t help but use every single target during shooting practice. Why did it feel so easy, then, to accept Kelsier’s offer? To believe that he could be happy and safe with Kelsier, to believe that he could be protected from the things he feared most? Why did he want that so badly when he knew he was the last person in the world to deserve it? Nico noticed the crease in Kelsier’s forehead, and he felt the sudden wish to be able to read the man better than he currently could. He wanted to know what he was thinking, and why, and he wanted to wake up every morning to something being cooked, or at least the ability to eat a meal with someone other than himself. Was that too much to ask of the universe? Just to honor this little bit of good fortune? Nico was a kid, he knew that, and he knew he could take care of himself, he knew he didn’t need anybody’s help. But he wanted it. He wanted it so badly he ached. He hadn’t lied when he said he didn’t want to be alone anymore. He didn’t want to fight for every meal, he didn’t want to stay awake for nights on end because he needed to protect what few resources he had managed to gather. He couldn’t promise Kelsier he would stay, but he also couldn’t promise himself he wouldn’t. Nothing was that simple, even if Nico wanted it to be. “I think I’ve already broken every other rule in the book when it comes to that sort of stuff.” He shrugged. “Why not take candy from the man in the white van?” He gave a thin smile, not sure why he felt comfortable enough with Kelsier to joke. It was like Kelsier had managed to cast a spell on him, one Nico could have thrown off if he’d really wanted to, but the point was that he didn’t. Neither of them knew how the future was going to go, but Nico found he much preferred Kelsier’s thoughts about it to his own. Kelsier’s unrealistic, idealistic thoughts. He really was a sucker, drawn in so easily by promises that were just falsehoods in disguise. That was inevitable, because those weren’t the sort of promises that could be kept. Nico knew that, yet he still wanted to believe in them. It seemed almost as though Kelsier’s confidence was infectious. Kelsier believed in himself so much that Nico wanted to believe in him too. “How do you know that? How can you possibly know that there’s nothing that can make you break your promises?” It was a challenge, almost, because he knew the kinds of things the world could do to people who challenged it. He knew the way the world liked to pick at the promises people made to each other until they were torn apart. Or maybe that was just the promises people made to Nico. Maybe that was even just the promises he made to himself. “There’s always worse,” he added quietly. His whole life had been a series of circumstances that seemed like the worst possible thing. And then, as soon as it was over, he’d been hit by something worse, something more crushing. He was afraid of the world. He didn’t trust it when it reached out its hand and offered to help him to his feet. He had learned that as bad as he thought it was, it could get a whole lot worse. So he’d stopped letting himself consider each new situation the worst. He’d just learned to exist knowing that he was on a very long staircase heading down, and every step led to something he couldn’t even begin to imagine. It wasn’t a very nice way to live, but it kept him alive. “You think you’re above it all, don’t you?” he murmured quietly. “You think you’ll make it through no matter what happens.” It wasn’t a question. And what if he did? What if he managed to make it through, what if he did end up happy? Nico wanted to be a part of that. He wanted to believe it was possible, he wanted to stop worrying. It was about time he gave in. “If I gave you my trust,” he murmured quietly, as though it was a perfectly harmless theoretical, “what would you do with it?” He let that hang in the air before considering Kelsier’s proposal. Deals could so often go wrong when you didn’t read the fine print. But wasn’t that what this whole conversation was? Nico clearing up what the fine print could be? The truth was, he had no idea what he was agreeing to. He had no idea what it would end up meaning to him. “Deal,” he said before he could think better of it. “But you better not be lying.”
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 11, 2020 21:17:31 GMT -5
L was good at not trusting anyone. He was good at not giving his heart, not even a piece of it. He was good at staying away, and he knew he could be alone forever if he chose that. Did he choose that? Did he want that? It would be safer, he mused, much safer that way. So why was he letting Orpheus stay? Maybe he didn’t care about being safe. No, that wasn’t true. He cared a lot about being safe. So what was it? Maybe it was something about Orpheus himself. The way the other man held himself, the music he offered, everything about him that said he was worth trusting. Not that L trusted him yet, of course, not that he was even close to doing that. But he felt like, maybe, he could. Somehow, he has survived. What had he done to make that a reality? What had he been forced to do? L didn’t know. He supposed he might never know. He looked at Orpheus. The other man seemed to be lost in thought. Thinking about what? All the people he had probably been forced to hurt? Or something else? Maybe he was thinking about why he was still alive. L was still alive because he’d been lucky. That was it, really. He wasn’t special. He was just a man who had once had something to give, and now only took. He looked away. Who was he to judge Orpheus? He couldn’t judge him. He had no leg to stand on. L listened, taking note of the way Orpheus was talking. It was interesting, the way he seemed to be lost in thought a lot. It was likely just who he was naturally, but that didn’t make it any less interesting. Orpheus had a story, that much was clear. What it was, that was the question. L had no idea. He might never find out, either. He didn’t share his own story. He simply watched and listened, and he saw the emotion choke Orpheus. He saw the way he seemed to almost be in pain. His own story involved Watari. It was the reason he was now alone. He wouldn’t share it and he didn’t even want to think about it, because he hadn’t been good enough, he hadn’t tried hard enough, he hadn’t…. It was safe to say he understood where Orpheus was coming from, as far as having secrets went. He wasn’t ready to talk, either. He didn’t pry. He just watched and waited as the other survivor seemed to come out of his trance. Maybe they would get to know each other. Maybe one of them would die in two hours. L didn’t pretend to have any idea of what might happen. He didn’t pretend to know. “Yes.” He said finally, still not breaking his long stare. “I suppose you do.” He wasn’t sure what else to say, really. He was mostly just trying to figure Orpheus out. L considered that. He didn’t, however, see the need for a song. He supposed people wanted one mostly because they could get away with it. He knew people would usually get everything they could, and then protect it with everything they had. It was human nature, apparently, to be possessive and get everything you could get your hands on. “Oh, yes, I’ve certainly noticed that.” He agreed, nodding. Then he blinked, surprised by the compliment. “I wouldn’t say that.” He said simply. “You seem quite kind, yourself. I think you probably deserve the same from other people, yes?” He fell silent for a moment, thinking it over. He supposed that was true enough. He was glad to be able to study the notes, however. “Possibly.” He said, considering the question. “Although most places are out of supplies. Perhaps we could walk around and see what we can find.”
Ronan watched his best friend smile. It had been a while since he had see that...seen the look on Noah’s face when he actually smiled, when he meant it. When he didn’t realize anyone could see him. It was like that now. It was like Noah had forgotten Ronan was watching him, and he had just let himself...be. That was one of the best experiences there were, in Ronan’s opinion. Rare, but worth it. He didn’t know what Noah was thinking about. He had no idea, he just knew that for a moment, his friend looked happy, and that was more than reward enough for coming here. He had hoped that Noah would find the same inner peace he did while he was here, and it seemed like he’d been right to think he might. He didn’t know the secret Noah held, all he knew was that his friend needed protecting and he’d be damned if anything happened to his best friend. Ronan shook himself off, getting the rest of the leaves off of him as he stood up. The quiet birdsong spread through the air, touching everything with a soft glow that seemed almost impossible, unreal. Did he believe it? Did he think it was real? Anywhere but here...he knew it wasn’t. He knew deep down that this was stupid and he shouldn’t have even brought Noah, because it was a lie and he hated lies. This wasn’t real. What was real was pain and loss and death. Zombies. It was stupid to pretend otherwise. He shook his head, sharp blue eyes focusing on Noah. The other boy seemed...Ronan didn’t actually know how to describe it. “It was pretty dumb.” He answered, but he grinned to let Noah know that it wasn’t serious. “I mean, we were so sure that we were getting that wish.” It seemed ridiculous now to look back on that, and realize that they couldn’t ever have gotten a wish. It was almost sad to think how confident they had been. Ronan knew now that the world was harsh and it didn’t give you an inch, and that was okay because he didn’t give it an inch, either. They would just have to fight and see who won. And yet a part of Ronan didn’t want to fight. The part he wouldn’t allow himself to think about. The part he pretended didn’t exist, even to himself. The part that still believed in Glendower, in the end, because why not? They deserved a little fantasy in their lives after all the shit they’d been through, didn’t they? “Yeah, well…” Ronan knew that that was true, but still. Rude to point it out now, wasn’t it? He stared at Noah, trying to read the expression on his best friend’s face, but he found that he couldn’t. He frowned, but he didn’t push it. “I might have been wrong.” He admitted gingerly, like he wasn’t used to the words. He wasn’t. Then he pointed at Noah, a wicked grin coming over his harsh features. “If you ever so much as [hint[/i] that I said that, I will kill you. Got it?” He dropped his hand, still grinning. “Yeah, you got it.” He said, satisfied. They weren’t going to talk about everything they’d been through, they just weren’t. Why bring stuff up? Why mention it at all? It was all in the past now, where it safely couldn’t do shit to them anymore, so he wasn’t going to talk about it, and neither would Noah. Nope. Not even a little. Then Noah smiled again and it felt like the entire world made sense again. “Aww.” He said, grinning at his friend and lightly bumping his shoulder against Noah’s. “That was almost cute.” His grin faded a little as they continued, then came back even stronger. “Yeah, I think we can.” He said seriously. He meant it. If he had found Noah, then why not the others? If they could find each other out of all the rest, then...well, he wasn’t an optimist, but he would make do with stubbornness. “And who cares what the name of this place was? It doesn’t matter, we’re here and that’s the only important thing. We can call this place whatever the hell we want.” “Good.” He said when Noah agreed. “Good. Then let’s get out of here.”
Sherlock was...well. Crutchie wasn’t wrong. He was trying to find a cure, yes, but not to save humanity. He was doing it because he was bored of surviving, he was bored of keeping his physical needs in check every day, he needed to think, dammit. He could feel his brain rotting away to nothing and he needed a puzzle to solve, he needed something to keep himself occupied or he’d go mad. This happened to be the most obvious thing to try and solve, so that was what he’d do with himself. It was simple, obvious to anyone, and he would be surprised if Crutchie hadn’t realized it by now. He wasn’t a hero. He was just bored. He snorted. “You can’t even see me.” He pointed out. “Good luck with that. I’m not worried.” He really wasn’t, though if Crutchie had been able to see...no, he still wouldn’t have been worried. He probably should have been, but he didn’t think Crutchie was the sort to kill out of irritation, so he wasn’t. He considered the boy for a moment before he continued. “I would try.” He said simply. “So relax. You’re not actually going to die anytime soon.” He waited for Crutchie to respond, then frowned as the kid rolled his eyes instead. “Boring.” He muttered, disappointed. A good argument would have been interesting, and it seemed that it wasn’t going to happen. Oh well. He had plenty to work with as it was. He bounced over to one of his vials, peering at it curiously instead of paying attention to the child. “Oh?” He said, turning to look at the boy again. “Are you now?” He frowned, then continued at a slightly faster pace. “I suppose you are, in fact, here of your own free will, that’s unusual, why would you do this in the first place? Very odd. Why are you here, anyway?” He slowly grinned as Crutchie continued. “Yes.” He said slowly. “I am.” It was no good pretending otherwise, was it? He tapped his foot impatiently, staring at the kid as he continued, then folded his arms across his chest and sighed. “You aren’t actually going to combust.” There. An olive branch of sorts. Sort of.
Kelsier knew that any poison would have taken effect already, but he still didn’t expect Nico to trust him. It was only fair that he wouldn’t, after all, because he didn’t know Kelsier, he didn’t know him and he had no reason to believe he was a good person. He didn’t know that Kelsier wasn't going to hurt him. He didn’t know that Kelsier had already decided more than never to hurt him. He didn’t know that Kelsier had decided to protect him. He was willing to answer all the questions Nico had for him. He was willing to do what he needed to do to help him trust, and even if he never trusted the older survivor it was okay. Kelsier would protect him regardless. He wasn’t actually doing this for recognition, for once, he was doing it for Nico, because the kid deserved to be able to trust someone and to be able to be safe. The world was not fair or kind, but Kelsier was going to do his damn best to make sure Nico knew that people could be. Kelsier was going to be hope, if that was what Nico needed. And Kel wasn’t going to give up just because it was a little bit hard to answer a fair question. He wouldn’t give up no matter what happened. “Okay, fair point.” He admitted, smiling a little at that. “But the point is, bad things have always happened. Not zombies, necessarily. But maybe this isn’t the end of the world after all, maybe it’s just something else we can deal with. And I do mean deal with, not just survive, not just live another day through. I haven’t lost hope that humanity can come back from this, just like it always does.” He listened, and he knew that to an extent, Nico was right. Things were worse now than before, of course they were, he wasn’t denying that. He also could tell that Nico was speaking from personal experience, which made him wonder whether the kid was beginning to trust him, or whether it wasn’t intentional. If it wasn’t intentional, then he was probably not used to talking to people anymore, and so he wasn’t used to filtering what he said. That made sense. Kelsier watched the boy for a moment, then continued. “I’m not pretending the world isn’t a whole lot worse now than it was before this all happened.” He explained. “I’m saying that it isn’t the end. As long as we breathed, it isn’t the end. That’s all.” He was offering protection. No, he was offering hope. There was a difference. For one thing, he knew Nico was very capable of protecting himself, so offering protection was slightly redundant. Oh, he was going to defend the kid alright, with his life if need be, but he wasn’t going to pretend that Nico was helpless here. That would just be rude. He didn’t know what Nico had done, of course he didn’t. But he also didn’t care. He had done bad things, too, it didn’t mean he wasn’t worth good things. He wanted to prove that Nico could be happy. He wanted to prove they both could be happy. Kelsier could see that Nico was trying. He could tell that the kid was really, really trying here, and he respected him so much for it. He couldn’t yet read him very well, but he could tell that Nico was tired, and he could tell that the cost of staying alive was more than the boy let on. Kelsier wanted to make this work. He wanted to protect Nico, yes, but he also wanted to prove that the world could be okay again. That the sun still rose every morning, and that the smell of pancakes and bacon could still tease out a smile early in the morning, and thst the beauty of a sunset could be bittersweet but worth it. He didn’t yet know what Nico wanted. He didn’t yet know whether he would stay. All he knew was that he wanted to give this kid hope again, and he wanted to do it right. Nothing was simple. That was very true. But even if nothing was simple, they could deal with it. Kelsier kept smiling, every day he fought back and he won because the mere act of fighting back was enough. Every day he won because he was still alive, and still smiling, and he wanted to show Nico how to smile again, too. Was that really too much to ask? The survivor laughed lightly, shaking his head at the comparison. “Still wouldn’t advocate for that, I’m afraid.” He said, smiling at Nico. In truth, he was glad that Nico was joking with him. It was like he had already proven what he wanted to prove, it was like he had shown the kid how to smile, just a little bit. He wanted to keep going, he discovered. He wanted to continue on and show Nico that it was okay, it was okay to hope and still get up after every fight, and it was okay to be vulnerable sometimes. Because being vulnerable was being strong. Being open and trusting and smiling...they made you so much stronger, in the end. And wasn’t that worth something? He looked at Nico, raising an eyebrow slightly at the question. “I don’t know what’s going to happen.” He admitted. Then he smiled. “But I do know myself. I don’t break my promises, and I’m not going to start. If I did, then I wouldn’t really be me anymore, would I? And since I don’t plan on becoming someone else, I know that I won’t break my promise. See? That’s logic. Easy.” If it was a challenge, then he would meet it head on. That was what he did, after all. He faced the world and he told it to go to hell, because he refused to bend to its demands. He was insane, perhaps, and he was the first to admit that. But he was also happy, and not just because the world demanded him to be. He actually meant the smiles he gave. They were genuine. Kelsier let a moment pass before he answered that, because well...it was true, wasn’t it? There was always worse, there was always something else that could go wrong, and a pessimist would have said that in that case, it pile eventually go wrong. But Kel was not a pessimist. “You’re forgetting something.” He said lightly. “That means that it can always get better, as well. If there’s always something worse, then there is always something better and we’re always on the middle. Down is not the only direction there is.” Kelsier existed believing that things could be better. He could, in fact, imagine living like Nico, believing that everything that could go wrong, would. But he refused to let himself live like that. He refused to miss that many opportunities. “Maybe I do.” He agreed, letting that answer hang for a moment before he continued. “Maybe I know that I will make it through. Maybe I’m sure that no matter what, I can come out on top. It’s not a bad thing to believe in yourself, right? Otherwise you’re going to have a whole lot of angry parents suing kids tv shows. So just...be prepared for that.” A much more serious expression came over his face as he heard the next words, and he considered it carefully, weighing his answers in his head before answering. “I would protect it.” He said finally. “With whatever means necessary.” Was that too forward? Perhaps. But he meant it, and Nico was the one who had asked, so he should have been ready for any answer, right? He smiled when Nico accepted his deal. “Excellent.” He said cheerfully. “I’m not lying, but that hardly means anything when you think that I might be. So, you get to find out for yourself, instead. I won’t ask anything of you, and I expect nothing from you in return. You’re free to dislike me and mistrust me as long as you see fit.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Dec 7, 2020 4:10:16 GMT -5
Orpheus couldn’t read L. Not that he could read people easily anyway, but it was harder than usual with L. He had a feeling that there were things L wasn’t saying. Things L didn’t want to say. Which made sense. There were plenty of things that Orpheus himself didn’t want to talk about. What was humanity other than a bundle of secrets and not enough trust between them? Well, Orpheus answered himself silently, humanity was hope. Was that not what L was? Who would let a musician stay with them, who would take interest in the music he played unless they had some suspicion that there might be a world somewhere that needed music? Belief in a world like that required hope. More hope than Orpheus was capable of, sometimes. Sometimes he thought the only reason he kept playing was because it was the only thing keeping him awake. And yet… he played even when it didn’t. Even when there was nobody, not even zombies, around to listen. He believed in hope. He believed that there was a world out there somewhere that needed music. Or… perhaps he just believed that this world needed music as much as the world did before everything fell apart. He knew L was looking at him. He knew there were things he needed to say, explanations he should give about what he was thinking about, but… surely L was thinking about things, too. There seemed to be some sort of understanding that whatever they were thinking wasn’t suspicious or dangerous. That whatever they were thinking was allowed to be kept inside. Orpheus was hardly used to having anything to himself, even his thoughts. People didn’t trust easily. Evidently L didn’t either, but… well, at least he didn’t interrogate Orpheus about what he was thinking. “You were kind first,” he pointed out quietly, a smile pulling at the edges of his lips. “You didn’t know anything about me other than that I could play music, and you offered me peaches.” It seemed important. It seemed important that L know he was kind, even if he thought he wasn’t. If Orpheus knew the future… would he change anything about what he was doing now? If he knew how much pain it could cause him to get closer to L? If he knew what it was like to fall in love again? If he knew that if he stayed with L now, he could never turn back? No, he wouldn’t. Not that it mattered. He had no way of knowing the future. All he knew was that he wasn’t ready to give up human connection yet. He wasn’t ready to turn his back on the possibility of friendship, even if he’d never really had it before. Even if it was based on two people who could potentially be useful to each other. After all, people didn’t stay together now because they had shared interests or anything. They stayed together because that was the best way they could see to survive. Orpheus was tired of just surviving. He wanted to find Eurydice, and he wanted to live. If he found friends before then? Great. He just… wasn’t expecting L to be a friend. They had just met, after all. It was incredibly likely that L was going to send him on his way as soon as he realized how useless Orpheus truly was. How incapable he was of even killing zombies. There was a part of him that still saw him as people. That still believed that deep down, they could be reasoned with. They could be saved. “Maybe we can find someplace nobody else has looted,” he commented, trying to offer a smile. He knew it was a long shot. The apocalypse had been going on for so long that any easy source of supplies was sure to be depleted by now. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t look. “We can go further out if there are two of us,” he added, shifting awkwardly. “It means that at the very least, it doesn’t just have to be a day trip.” That was, of course, assuming L trusted him enough to keep watch at night, if they went somewhere far away enough to require it. He doubted L trusted him that much yet. He doubted he ever would. But he thought he’d mention it. Just in case. Nonetheless, he followed, curious to see where L thought they might find some, if any, supplies.
“I could use with a wish right about now,” Noah admitted, looking up at Ronan. He didn’t say why. He didn’t mention why he would do almost anything to get that wish from Glendower. He didn’t mention how selfish it was of him to even want it. The truth was… he wanted to survive. He wanted to find more places like this, and he wanted to know that humanity was going to be okay. He wanted to be alive for long enough to see humanity through to the other side. He didn’t want to succumb to the wound on his cheek. He wanted to go back in time and push Whelk in front of the zombies instead. A dark expression crossed his face, but he quickly pushed it away. Ronan had showed this place to his best friend, not the monster in place of who his best friend used to be. Noah could be Noah for just a little bit longer. Not Czerny, as he’d been with Whelk. Not the monster he was convinced he was going to become at any moment. Some days he thought he would be okay. He thought the wound was healing, the smudge on his cheek going away. Other days it was like he could practically see it festering. What would Ronan do if he saw that? What would he do if he learned that his best friend wasn’t going to be his best friend for very long? Noah wasn’t so sure he wanted to find out. Hence… the wish. “I still want to believe that there are wishes out there,” he added softly, staring down at the ground and closing his eyes for just a moment to listen to the birdsong. He was still content here – more content than he’d been for a very long time – but it didn’t get rid of the fear. Nothing could. Nothing could change the fact that one day Noah was going to go to sleep, and what woke up with his body wouldn’t be him. Nothing could change the fact that he couldn’t tell Ronan, because his friend had already dealt with more than enough. Nothing could change the fact that Noah Czerny was, above anything else, a coward who wanted a few days with his best friend, even if that meant putting his best friend at risk. Was it contagious? Would Ronan turn before Noah ever could? Noah didn’t know, and he didn’t want to find out. And yet… he couldn’t bring himself to leave. No, he was more than cowardly. He was cruel, and he knew it. There was a point when the two of them could read each other better than anyone else. Better than Gansey, or Adam, or even Blue, who tended to be very, very good at reading people so long as she didn’t hate them. Could Noah still read Ronan? He couldn’t tell. He doubted that Ronan could read him. If he could… well, then Noah was fairly certain he’d already be dead. And he wouldn’t have been able to blame Ronan for that decision. “Wrong is a matter of opinion,” he replied tersely, his tone harsher than it was usually. He didn’t want to talk about Whelk. He didn’t want Ronan even implying that he deserved praise for keeping Noah alive. Because he didn’t. He had… he had used him, and then he had discarded him when it was convenient. When he was just a piece that needed to be sacrifice. In life, Noah was meant to be a pawn. Other people – Ronan, Whelk, Gansey – they were the players. Noah shook his head of the thought, forcing a tiny smile. “That is to say, your secret’s safe with me.” He gave a soft huff of laughter, almost throwing his arm around Ronan before thinking better of it. Whatever had been usual before… well, it was different now. And Noah didn’t want to make any mistakes that would drive Ronan away from him. Instead, he reached down, grasped his hand for a short moment, and squeezed it before letting go almost immediately. He was still smiling, but it was becoming more genuine now. “If anyone can find them, then it’s us, yeah?” He wanted Ronan to say yes. No… he needed Ronan to say yes. He needed some hope that when he eventually had to leave Ronan, he wasn’t leaving him alone. He stepped back, looking at the place one last time. “We… we should give it a name. A place like this doesn’t deserve to be nameless.” He searched Ronan’s expression, hoping he agreed. “Even if we don’t tell anyone else, it deserves to… to exist. Didn’t Gansey say with his whole Glendower thing that names have power or something?”
Crutchie didn’t need a hero. He didn’t need good motives. All he needed were results and, if he had his way, a hand in achieving them. He was more or less a scientific miracle, after all. He’d had the virus, and it had paralyzed him, but he was still alive. How many others had survived? Crutchie couldn’t recall hearing of any others who had contracted it and lived to tell the tale, but by the time he was conscious of his surroundings again the news stations had shut off. Sherlock was, however, right about the fact that Crutchie was far from violence prone. He may not have liked Sherlock very much, but he wasn’t going to kill him out of annoyance, no matter what he said. He had, however, learned that sometimes threatening, even in a joking way, was something that could keep you alive better than actual fighting skills could. Not against zombies, of course. But against regular humans, who more often than not would try to save their own skin rather than risk it. Even if their opponent didn’t appear to be able to cause much damage. Crutchie had found that treating his crutch as a weapon, even if he never used it that way, was quite effective. He blinked, surprised to find that more of the light seemed to penetrate now. Would it be petty not to tell Sherlock? Yes. Would it be justified? Also yes. The only downside he could think of was that if he didn’t tell Sherlock how the recovery was going for this poison, it might be worse next time. Still… it felt like a quiet victory to keep this to himself. Let Sherlock try to puzzle it out on his own without someone willing to cooperate fully. “I’m here because I think that, if you find a cure, I’ll have made a difference, somehow,” he responded honestly, swinging his good leg where he sat. He hoped there wasn’t anything breakable in front of him. If, however, he happened to kick something valuable, it couldn’t be held against him. He couldn’t see. Much. “Why?” he asked after a moment, allowing himself to process the relief that came with knowing he wasn’t going to combust. “Are you hoping I’ll just figure everything out without you telling me? Or do you just like toying with me?” he sounded annoyed. Good. He was annoyed, and he wanted Sherlock to know it.
Nico took a deep breath, gaze skimming over Kelsier for just a moment as he looked around. This was a safe place. He had chosen it because it would be hard to breach, because nobody would be able to find him here. And yet he’d led Kelsier straight here. And yet here he was, standing across from Kelsier and watching him like he wasn’t about to strike, like there was no danger of him taking Nico down here and now just because he could. There had been plenty of opportunities for Kelsier to kill Nico. When he had stumbled and fallen. When he was asleep. Poisoning the food. Nico was still alive and breathing. Despite the tiny voice in the back of his head saying that Kelsier could be playing some kind of long game to win his trust now only to betray him later, this seemed a little too elaborate. If Kelsier were working for his father and wanted to take Nico in after all of this… well, then let him. He had dedicated an awful lot to conning Nico if that was the case, and Nico had to respect it, even if it was all a lie. Truthfully, he didn’t think it was. He was a realist, but perhaps… perhaps just this once he could be optimistic. Was Kelsier right? Could they deal with this? Was it even possible, or were they destined to just barely survive? Believing Kelsier was right meant hoping for more than he deserved. If Kelsier was right, if there was a way to deal with this rather than just… survive it… then maybe Nico hadn’t doomed humanity. Maybe, just maybe, there was still hope. Did he deserve to believe in hope? Did he deserve to let himself have it when so many were bereft of it? Did he deserve to do more than survive when he was aware that so much of humanity was failing to do to the exact same thing and it was all his fault. “I want to believe you,” he murmured softly, fiddling with the ring he wore on his right hand. “But why do we deserve to deal with it when so many others can’t?” It wasn’t the question he wanted to ask, wasn’t the one that was burning him up from the inside out, but it was close enough. If Kelsier had a good enough answer, it might be enough to assuage some of the guilt swirling around the pit of Nico’s stomach. There was something about Kelsier that relaxed Nico, that encouraged him to believe that maybe things would be okay if he let his guard down just this once. If he let himself joke with a stranger, if he let himself live in a world where things could still be funny. It was unrealistic. It was cruel to all of the people he had hurt. But Nico wanted the option to live like this so badly. He wanted to feel that he had a right to smile, if he wanted to. That maybe, believing things could be alright wasn’t enough to condemn him. Deep down, he believed he’d deserved the string of misfortune that had befallen him. He had created this mess. It was his fault. Why shouldn’t he suffer for it? But there was Kelsier, telling him that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to. “Saying you don’t want to do something and therefore there’s no situation in which you won’t isn’t really logic,” Nico protested, but his heart wasn’t in it. He wanted to believe in Kelsier so bad it hurt. He wanted to let himself have this, to let himself believe, to let someone else take the burden for a while. That was selfish, he knew it was. But maybe he wanted an excuse to be selfish, just once in his life. He watched Kelsier for another few moments, desperately trying to read his expression. Trying to figure out how genuine he was, whether he actually believed what he was saying. He was a fool, if he did. Optimism got you killed. It let people take advantage of you. And most importantly, it hurt when it went wrong. Nico didn’t want to deal with that anymore. He had tried optimism. He had tried believing that situations could work out. And where had it gotten him? “What if you’re wrong?” Nico’s voice was quiet as he examined Kelsier’s expression. “What if there really is only one way to go? When you fall from a cliff, you keep falling. It’s not like a staircase. You can’t just… choose to fight your way back up.” He hugged his arms to his chest, glaring at Kelsier for a long moment as he tried to appraise the situation. As he tried to appraise what Kelsier really believed. “What if you’re wrong, and there’s always another enemy to fight, and what if you’re wrong that you can beat-” he broke off, eyes immediately flickering towards the door at the sound of something outside. He hesitated for a long moment, glancing at Kelsier for just a moment. It had only been one thump. It could have been anything. Nico was just… paranoid. On edge. He turned his gaze back towards Kel after a few moments, satisfied that the sound outside had just been a fluke. Nothing to worry about. His eyes widened as he heard Kelsier’s answer to his question, and suddenly any worry about something happening outside disappeared. Why? he wanted to ask, but hadn’t they spent this entire conversation establishing exactly why Kelsier would want to preserve the trust of a stranger? To protect it like it was something valuable and fragile? Nico sighed. Did he dislike Kelsier? The answer to that was a resounding no. But he still couldn’t trust him. He was about to say as much when the sound occurred again, this time much louder. Nico jumped back, edging deeper into the bunker. There was a safety door above, if they could get out, but Nico wasn’t tall enough, and whether or not he distrusted Kelsier, he wasn’t going to just leave him there. The sounds were getting louder. Somehow… somehow, they’d been found. Somehow, the monsters outside knew that here was the best place around to get a meal. Two fresh, tasty humans. Nico didn’t have a weapon, but he grabbed a steak knife from the kitchen like he thought it would make any difference at all against the zombies. Maybe it would, but he didn’t know how to use it, and for someone as small as him, something that would allow him a bit more reach was preferable. Still… they had to make due with what they had. The thumping had turned into groaning, and Nico edged backwards again, dark eyes locked on the door. “Do you think it will hold?” he asked Kelsier, horror dripping into his words. Had anyone even thought to lock it? Well, he supposed, they were about to find out.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Feb 26, 2021 21:11:05 GMT -5
L had always been difficult to read. He didn’t know why exactly...was it on purpose? Was or just who he was? He thought it might be a simple result of who he was and what he’d been through. Being hard to read was much safer, after all, than being an open book. He didn’t know if he had hope. How could he? He didn’t know if he could hope for something he wasn’t sure was possible anymore. He was, perhaps, a pessimist at heart. Unable to believe the best when the worst refused to stop poking its nose around the corner. Orpheus seemed to believe in hope. It was...a rare quality, especially nowadays. L was the more common of the two, his pessimism the safer option. Hope hurt. Hope was the most painful thing there was, and L wasn’t ready for it. He didn’t know if he ever would be. Orpheus had been playing before he’d known L was there. What do that say about him? That he believed in music? In people? In hope? He didn’t expect to be told Orpheus’ secrets. Truthfully, he didn’t expect to ever know him, or learn his story. Orpheus could keep his thoughts to himself. His words could be lies, anyway. He didn’t need to interrogate him. Just as Orpheus didn’t need to interrogate L, it seemed. Well...he would accept that, for now. Maybe if it seemed like Orpheus was more dangerous at some point, there would be questions. He hesitated, unsure. “Oh,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck uncertainly. “I..suppose I did do that.” He couldn’t seem to think of anything else to say. He hadn’t gotten a compliment in...how long now? A long time. A very long time. If L had known the future, what this meeting would mean to him, what would he have done? Turned back? Protected his heart? Told Orpheus to leave? No. Because, as difficult as it was for him to admit, love wasn’t as stupid as he made it out to be. Why was he doing this? Was it possible the detective wanted connection, too? Or was this merely practical? A way to survive? Yet, it wasn’t like Orpheus had a lot to offer on the fighting department. L could tell that much just from looking at him. So, why? Was he really so stupid as to think he could make a friend here? He knew better than that. He knew better than to think he could be befriended, even before the end of the world. But he could have turned Orpheus away, and he hadn’t. If he’d been going to do it, he would have done it already. He didn’t know what Orpheus thought of the zombies, though. If he had...would he have changed his mind? Perhaps, soon, he would find out. Hopefully not too soon. He was not in the mood to try and survive a zombie attack. He looked up as Orpheus spoke. A place no one had looted yet? Was that a possibility? He wasn’t sure it was realistic to think that way. Maybe it was a better idea to think of a place that might have food other people had missed. He hesitated a moment later. Did Orpheus expect him to trust him enough to sleep? Of course...if they stayed together, he was going to have to, eventually, but...already? He didn’t trust him yet. He didn’t know if he ever would. He headed out, sticking to the shadows, eyes scanning constantly, in case of people and zombies alike. “I don’t know where food might be…” he admitted quietly, glancing back at Orpheus. If you have any suggestions…?”
“Yeah, me too.” Ronan sighed, looking at the place, the trees and birds and bright colors. “I guess we all could.” He didn’t know. He didn’t know that this was temporary. He didn’t know that Noah wasn’t telling him everything. He didn’t know that things were different, irreparably different. He didn’t know anything. All he knew what that his best friend was finally here, and he didn’t want to lose a single moment at his side. He was tired of being alone, of surviving. And he was good at it, very good at it, he knew exactly how he could make it work, but this...his sharp features softened. He’d missed this. Not being alone. More than that, he’d missed Noah, more than he could ever say. Not that he was going to, of course, but...it still mattered. It still mattered that they weren’t apart anymore. They were different now, so different, and Ronan missed how they’d been before. He missed the feeling of them knowing each other better than anyone else, being able to read each other’s minds, practically. Now...it was different. Ronan didn’t know why, he didn’t understand why that was, what had changed, but he found he wanted to. He didn’t want to lose his best friend, not when he didn’t even understand what had changed. Besides the end of the world, anyway. Was that all it was? He looked at Noah, trying to read him. He’d missed the dark expression that had flitted across his face. Was it just the strain of losing the others, of everything that had happened? He met Noah’s eyes, frowning a little at the harsh tone. He didn’t understand. Yet another thing he didn’t know. What had he said to make Noah angry? Not that people being angry with him was uncommon, far from it, but not usually Noah. And usually, he knew what he’d done. He shook his head. He wanted to be able to read Noah again, but wanting something didn’t give it to you. You could only give it to yourself, he knew that. Then Noah laughed a little and he grinned, because maybe, maybe that meant things were okay, maybe that meant he could still read Noah. Maybe… He looked at their hands, then back up, meeting Orpheus’ eyes. “‘Course we can.” He confirmed, and his tone was confident. “We know them best, and we’ve been looking for Glendower. We’ll find them.” If he’d known the reason for Noah’s question, he might have tackled him and tried to make him see reason, tried to convince him he was wrong, that he wouldn’t die. But he didn’t know. He hesitated, looking at Noah for a long moment. Then he shrugged. “Fine,” he said it like it didn’t matter much to him, but his eyes betrayed him, lingering on the place behind them. They might never come here again, after all. He knew that it was possible that they would never see this place again. “Name it,” he added, looking at Noah. It had been his idea, after all.
Results were something Sherlock was good at. He’s never heard of someone surviving before, he didn’t know if there’s was anyone else, but if there wasn’t, it was absolutely crucial that Crutchie survive. He was hard to get along with, he knew, but at least Crutchie had come right to him. It was probably less effective to threaten Sherlock than it was with most people, he could tell, usually, when you were bluffing, after all. But he was also not keen on getting hit with a crutch, lethal or not. That wasn’t the point, the point was that humans would always do whatever they thought was necessary, and for Crutchie, that might soon become making Sherlock be quiet. He pretended not to be concerned, but that was a lie. He didn’t know how likely Crutchie was to attack. He only hoped it wasn’t too likely. He noticed the blink at the light. Was he improving? Probably. He wrote it down, eyes moving from Crutchie to the paper as he did. He couldn’t tell that the boy wasn’t telling him everything, but he also didn’t assume anything. He was aware that Crutchie could easily lie. It wouldn’t be in his best interest to do that, but he still was capable of it. He grunted as Crutchie’s swinging leg hit him and hopped backwards, scowling. “Careful!” He protested, narrowing his eyes. But, then, Crutchie couldn’t see, so… He hoped it would come back soon, this was annoying to deal with. “I’d be able to figure it out in your place,” he added, turning back to his bubbling chemistry set. “Apologies for hoping you weren’t an idiot. It’s one of the few mistakes I keep making, assuming the rest of you aren’t morons.”
The thing was, Kelsier wasn’t going to hurt Nico. He just wasn’t. This was Nico’s hiding place, and he was here, and he wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize the trust that had taken. Nico may have claimed not to trust Kel at all, but he actions seemed to say otherwise, since they were here now. Still...Kelsier wouldn’t question it too much. If Nico wanted to take his time, then that was fine with Kelsier. He wouldn’t push it. If this had been a lie, he’d have been awfully invested in it. Not that it wasn’t something he’d have done. He was just about that stubborn. He was an optimist to the core, and he knew Nico wasn’t, but it didn’t bother him. He was good at inspiring people, and maybe, just maybe...he could do the same here. Was that stupid? Probably. But he wasn’t going to stop. He was good at being stupid. They would survive. Kelsier knew they’d handle it. He was a survivor more than anything else. He was a survivor first and foremost. And he didn’t plan on giving that up. And now he had someone to protect, too. Nico deserved someone watching his back, someone to keep an eye on him and make sure he was taking care of himself and eating and sleeping. Not that those were things you often got, now, but...he would do his best. Kelsier smiled a little. “We’re not taking hope away from anyone else by having it,” he answered. “We deserve it because everyone deserves it. And if we have it, maybe, maybe someone else will have it too. And if someone else has it too it’ll spread like wildfire.” His eyes shined as he spoke of it, and he meant it. He believed in people, in how they could survive and hope and even live. “We deserve it,” he added firmly, meeting Nico’s eyes. He believed Nico deserved it. He didn’t care what had happened in his past. Didn’t care, because Nico deserved to live and hope and dream and eat good food and get enough sleep and have someone there who cared for him. “You deserve to smile,” he added softly, looking directly at Nico. “You deserve to have good things in your life. I swear you do.” He meant it. He didn’t know if it would help, but he meant it completely. If he’d known the truth? He wouldn’t have changed his mind. He wouldn’t have changed a single word. Whatever had happened, it was not Nico’s fault, not even a little bit. “It absolutely is,” he said earnestly, smiling. “I’m great at logic.” He was joking, clearly, but he thought Nico could probably use a lot more humor in his life at the moment. And, if he was going to stay around Kel? He’d have to get used to it. He believed his own words, though, and he wasn’t completely joking. He considered himself unbreakable. He considered himself indestructible. Was that stupid? Add it to the pile of stupid things he continued to unashamedly do. Optimism...yes, it hurt. Of course it did. But it was also worth it, hope was always worth it, in the end. Did Nico know that? Maybe, if he stayed with Kel, he would believe it, someday. “Maybe,” he agreed, voice soft. He wasn’t joking now. “Maybe. But, Nico...what if I’m right? What if I can fly and I never know because I was too afraid to try it? Freedom is terrifying. Freedom is messing up, being wrong, falling. But it’s worth it to fly. I can promise you it’s worth it to fly.” He listened, then tensed a little when Nico looked at the door, and he looked too. A thump. Just a thump. It wasn’t a guarantee of anything at all. He was ready, though, for it to be something more. He was always ready for that, as optimistic as he was, he knew better than to be unprepared. And then it happened again and he tensed, turning toward the door, eyes narrowed. So, they’d been found, then. Well...Kelsier wasn’t going to let that happen, not today, he wasn’t going to die today, and neither was Nico. The monsters would have to deal. He needed a weapon. He needed something, anything to fight with, anything to let him protect Nico. What would it take? He’d fight them all if he had to, but he wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t going to give up on finding another way out of this. That wasn’t how he worked. How they’d found this was irrelevant now. What mattered was that they wouldn’t be able to get in right away. So...there was time, then. To do what? Come up with a plan, a good plan that would save them both and leave the monsters far behind them. Okay,..what did he need to do? “We might...have to do something you aren’t going to like,” he murmured, glancing at Nico. Would he agree to it? Hopefully, because if he didn’t….no, Kelsier didn’t want to think about if he didn’t. “It...might involve guts.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Feb 27, 2021 4:42:36 GMT -5
Orpheus didn’t really know what to expect from this. He knew he had outstayed his welcome before. He had misread the hints people had given him, had stayed until they were forced to either abandon him without his knowledge, or, in one particularly memorable case, until they had physically chased him away, guns blazing. L didn’t seem the sort to shoot at him if he stayed longer than he was meant to. He seemed the type who would be honest about it. Then again… Orpheus didn’t know if he was the best judge of character. He tended to give people the benefit of the doubt more often than he strictly should have. He believed that people were, at heart, good. He had learned that that wasn’t always strictly true. There were plenty of people who were just… selfish. Who did what they did because they thought their lives mattered more than anything else. With the world how it was, how could Orpheus blame those people? He couldn’t blame anyone in the world for wanting to survive. Orpheus wanted to survive, too. The difference was… he believed that people could be good. He believed that every person had it in them. And maybe people were right to chase him away. He was a liability. He couldn’t fight. All he had to offer was music – all he had was one night of entertainment, of reminiscing about the good old days, or remembering concerts and CDs and playlists given as gifts. Once he’d done that… what good was he? He breathed out, shaking away the memory. If L wanted him gone, he would kick him out, and that would be that. For now, though, they were travelling companions. Or perhaps just… companions. He didn’t know if they would be doing any travelling. What they did hinged entirely on what L wanted, because he was the one who actually had something to offer to their partnership. Orpheus found it a welcome change from being alone, even if it was temporary. “Sorry,” Orpheus murmured, brow furrowing a bit. He hadn’t meant to make L feel uncomfortable. Compliments… were finicky. They often seemed ingenuine if given at the wrong time. Was that how his had seemed, or was it just that L wasn’t used to receiving compliments? Orpheus shook that thought away, too. He was overthinking this. Orpheus wanted friends. He wanted companionship. He wanted to meet someone he could stay with for more than a day. But… he knew how unlikely that was. He knew L would be annoyed with him eventually. Maybe they’d run into zombies and Orpheus would be able to ward them off a bit, but he wouldn’t be able to contribute to the actual fighting. He knew at some point he would need to learn how to fight, but he didn’t know if he was capable of killing, even if his life was in danger. He’d avoided fighting at all, so far. “I saw a few buildings out the way we’re heading,” Orpheus explained softly, doing his best to follow in L’s footsteps. He was good at being quiet when he had to be, but he hadn’t ever tried to walk in the shadows. He had never been afraid of running into humans. And when it came to zombies… they would find you whether you were in light or in shadow. Orpheus was used to leaving himself a way to escape, if he needed it. He could play a few chords on his guitar and then flee out his pre-planned escape route. It wasn’t perfect, but it had kept him alive. It was just… very different from how L interacted with the world. “I didn’t think there was anyone in those buildings, but… they might have food.” Or zombies. He left that part out. L would figure it out for himself – he almost certainly already knew the risk.
Noah couldn’t help but wonder if they’d ever be able to get near the way things were before. If they would ever be as close as they had been when they were younger, when they hadn’t had the end of the world to worry about. He supposed… as long as he had this secret… Ronan would never be able to read him like he used to. As long as Ronan didn’t know he was dying, he was no better than a liar. And he knew how Ronan felt about liars. It was uncomfortable and unfair. Maybe… maybe one day, his body would fight the disease off. Maybe it would be as simple as that. He closed his eyes, as though wishing for it could make it happen. In a place like this… maybe it could. Maybe, just maybe, his wish could come true. He was going about this wrong… he had said the wrong things, he… he wasn’t the boy he was when this had all started. He wanted to go back to how it used to be. He wanted to stand on the playground and watch as Ronan took his bullies down one by one. The biggest bully was the one neither of them had known about. The biggest bully was the person Ronan probably thought well of now, because Noah couldn’t’ tell him the truth of what happened. He wanted to. He wanted to tell Ronan he was a dead thing, wanted to look into his eyes and beg him to help him stay human. But he couldn’t do that to Ronan. Not here. Maybe not anywhere else, either. Ronan deserved better than him. He always had. Ronan was fire, and Noah… Noah had always been nothingness. Nobody would miss him if he disappeared, except Ronan. Except Ronan and the people they were going to start searching for. They had to find them. Noah couldn’t leave Ronan alone. “Good,” Noah whispered, glancing around at his surroundings one more time. “Good, we have to find them.” He believed Ronan, in that moment. Believed the confidence in his tone, the sharp smile on his lips. If he didn’t have to leave his best friend alone, then maybe dying wouldn’t hurt so much. His finger traced its way up to his cheek, rubbing at the spot that he knew would never come out. The spot that would claim his life, if it kept festering. How deeply had it rooted itself? Why had it taken him so long to turn? Some days… some days he could even pretend like he wasn’t going to. “You can’t just ask me to name it!” Noah squeaked in protest, glancing behind one last time. “It’s your place. We should at least name it together.” Still… he considered for a moment, trying to think of a name befitting of a place so magical. “Adytum?” he asked in a soft voice, looking to Ronan. “I mean… you’ve always been better in Latin than I was, so you’d know better than me if it fits, but… I think we should give it a Latin name. It’s mysterious and cool enough to deserve it.”
Crutchie wasn’t actually going to attack. Probably. And if he was going to, he would be certain to give plenty of warning first. He wouldn’t do it unless Sherlock absolutely deserved it, and even if he was being an asshole, he didn’t deserve it. Yet. The “yet” was the key word. Crutchie shook the word away, blinking a little bit as more of the light started to penetrate. He still couldn’t see, but he thought he might be starting to make out silhouettes. It was like peering through squinted eyes first thing in the morning. Not particularly clear, but hey. At least he could see. Even if motion was a little bit blurry. “Oops.” He felt his leg hit something solid, then heard Sherlock’s disgruntled protest a few moments later. His ‘oops’ sounded genuine (mostly). He might not have liked Sherlock very much, but he hadn’t intentionally kicked him. “Sorry,” he said after a few moments, at least having the decency to sound like he meant it. “I didn’t know you were right there.” He gave a small sigh, tilting his head towards where he thought he could see Sherlock’s silhouette. It could very easily have been the silhouette of a coat rack, however. Just because he could sort of see didn’t mean he could figure out what the vague shapes were. “You’re an ass,” he told Sherlock, but without malice. “Just because I don’t think the same way you do doesn’t mean I’m an idiot.” He crossed his arms, staring at the ground. “I’m just trying to help people. Would it really kill you to explain things instead of flat out insulting me?” In truth… he didn’t care how rude Sherlock was. It was going to take a lot more than insults and incivility to get him to run away.
Nico couldn’t see the future. He didn’t know how much Kelsier would end up hurting him. He didn’t, however, know how safe and comforted he’d feel anyway. Kelsier was scarcely more than a stranger, and yet he’d managed to win Nico over. Did that mean Nico’s walls were shorter and less sturdy than he had thought them, or did that mean Kelsier was a wrecking ball? Nico didn’t know, and he found he didn’t care. He was trying so hard not to get sucked into Kelsier’s words, trying so hard not to believe his promises. If he stayed with Nico, he would get hurt. And yet… Nico knew even now that leaving Kelsier was going to be near impossible. He wanted to believe him. Wanted to trust him. Wanted to escape the life of being chased for the worst crime in the world. This is all my fault! he almost shouted. Maybe Kelsier would see then. Maybe he would understand why Nico couldn’t have hope. Maybe he would understand why Nico couldn’t take a risk, why he couldn’t trust anyone, why he couldn’t let himself get close, because he had destroyed the entire world. Hades would destroy anyone Nico cared about in return. He could already tell that Kelsier was going to try to protect him. As suspicious as he was, nobody spying for his father would have gone this far. And nobody else in the world knew who he was. So like it or not, Kelsier was genuine. Nico couldn’t explain why he wished he hadn’t been. Perhaps it was just that it would be much easier to believe the world was cruel than it was to admit that people like Kelsier existed. A world filled with cruel people made more sense. A world filled with Kelsiers? It just reminded Nico how much harm he had caused. And to people who didn’t deserve it. “So…” he whispered, searching Kelsier’s gaze as he continued to swivel the ring around his finger, “You’re saying that hope is… is like the virus? That if we have it, then we might be able to infect someone else with it, and then… eventually more people will have hope?” He wasn’t sure he quite believed that. “But you have to convince someone to have hope. What if you can’t?” He still felt selfish for letting himself consider having hope. Then again… if hope let him fix the damage he had caused, maybe it was worth it. It would take an awful lot of hope to undo everything that had been done. No… that was the wrong word. None of it could ever be undone. Nico knew that better than anyone. But if Kelsier was right, there was the possibility of a better future. Kelsier was going to have to try harder if he wanted him to smile. It had been… a very long time since Nico had last cracked a smile. But… hadn’t he already gotten Nico to smile? It had been about something stupid, and Nico wasn’t sure it counted, but… well, it meant something. And it had earned Kelsier Nico’s loyalty, if not his trust yet. He would follow him anywhere. He just… couldn’t let him trust him. Or care too much. Eventually, the people tracking Nico would catch up, no matter how hard he and Kelsier both tried to avoid them. If Nico could tell Kelsier who they were, maybe they would be able to avoid them better. But Nico couldn’t risk that. The thumping was getting louder. “We can talk about flying after we finish not dying,” Nico hissed to Kelsier, unable to hide his panic. This place was supposed to be safe. Yet… they’d been found. He couldn’t blame Kelsier for this one. The noises above were very definitely inhuman, and nobody, no matter how cold they were, would risk their own life surrounding themselves with zombies, even if they were trying to hurt someone. Nico didn’t have any weapons. He had fought zombies before, but the guns he had used had run out of bullets, and though he had tried with knives, he’d never been very skilled. He needed a midrange weapon, something he could use without getting too close, but while also leveraging his smaller size and athleticism. Knives didn’t do it for him, though they were found practically everywhere. He had a swiss army knife, but… it hadn’t been very effective against zombies. If you got close enough to stab one with something that small, they’d be close enough to bite. Nico shook the thought off. He frowned, then reappeared a few moments later with a piece of pipe he had managed to tear off the wall. “Did you say you had weapons?” he asked Kelsier, eyes wide. Perhaps that was the first thing they would need to do the moment they got out of here. Acquire weapons, somehow. It took a few moments for Kelsier’s words to process. “…Guts?” He asked, brow furrowed. There wasn’t enough time to protest. The door was shaking – they didn’t have much time if they wanted to survive. “Whatever, fine, as long as it gets us out of here alive.” Some hypocrite he was. Claiming he didn’t trust Kelsier and then immediately believing the first plan he came up with? But just like everyone else, he wanted to survive. Kelsier’s plan seemed like the best way to do that at the moment.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 19, 2021 23:03:26 GMT -5
L wasn’t one to give secretive hints. He wasn’t going to be hard to read, and he definitely wasn’t going to blame Orpheus for not getting something he never even said directly. L was a very direct person most of the time...he didn’t say things he didn’t mean unless he was specifically trying to be deceptive, and if he wasn’t trying to be deceptive, he was extremely blunt. If he wanted Orpheus to leave, he would tell him to leave. It was that simple for him. It had gotten him into a lot of trouble in the past, he knew. But he wasn’t worried about that now. People had a lot more to worry about than a rude man, and he probably wasn’t the most blunt person in any given room anymore. People tended to give up niceties in the apocalypse, he’d discovered. Orpheus was probably wrong that he didn’t have much to offer. L couldn’t say for sire, because he didn’t know him, but he’d found that safety in numbers didn’t come with any particular skill set. Having someone with him, watching his back...well. He’d have liked that. He didn’t yet trust Orpheus with that, but it was possible he wanted it more than he was willing to admit, even to himself. He was going to ask Orpheus for his opinion, at least. He was going to do his best to include him, and be friendly, and do the things that nice people did, not necessarily because he himself was nice, but because he wanted to. Orpheus seemed like someone who deserved that much, at least. He shook his head a little, dismissing the awkwardness from the compliment. He wasn’t used to them...he didn’t think anyone in the world was used to compliments anymore. That wasn’t how the world worked now. He wasn’t upset about it. He was just unsure how to react. Orpheus had skills. He didn’t seem to think he did, but...he had his music. L wanted to study it, to see how it worked. How it had its effects. He was curious, and he wanted to know if it might help his cure. He didn’t see how it would, but he wasn’t going to leave any stone unturned as long as he could keep looking. “Mm…” he replied softly, moving carefully along the shadows, trusting Orpheus to keep up. He was pretty sure most people didn’t like walking in broad daylight, so it didn’t occur to him that Orpheus might not be used to sticking to the shadows, or staying out of sight. It didn’t even cross his mind that this wasn’t how everyone interacted with the work, now. It was the physical version of how he has existed before. Maybe that was why he had no trouble with it. “Food would be good,” he agreed, keeping his voice quiet. He glanced quickly back at Orpheus, making sure he was still visible and non threatening before he continued, moving towards the buildings. There would probably be zombies. He didn’t say that, though. He wasn’t used to needing to speak his mind.
Ronan didn’t like this...was it distance? Between them. He hated that he didn’t know what Noah was thinking. He wished he could turn back time, somehow, even if things had been far from perfect then, too. Even if he’d still had nightmares and Gansey had been hellbent on getting him though his exams and Adam had been Adam and Blue...she’d grown on him since their first meeting. He hadn’t liked her much when she’d first joined them, but the truth was that she wasn’t as bad as she’d seemed. She was at least a little bit like him, actually, which was something he never planned to say out loud. He missed getting so many flavors of gelato that there was no room on the table. He missed their insane search for Glendower, the light in Gansey’s eyes whenever they found a clue, the way he transformed into a completely different person when he was with them and no one else. He missed street racing. He missed Adam’s voice. Hell, he even missed long insomnia nights when he and Gansey existed in the same space without interacting. He didn’t know what had happened to Noah. He had no idea what he’d been through, or who had done it. Whelk’s crime continued to go unpunished and unknown, and Ronan couldn’t protect Noah, couldn’t make this better. He didn’t even know what it was. He looked at his friend, arms folded, narrow shoulders set as he watched him. He did know something had changed. He didn’t think it was him. He felt the same, anyway...he didn’t know if it was Noah, or something else. Or maybe nothing had changed at all and they were fine. How could he tell? They’d find the others. They had to...he promised himself they would. Maybe, once they did, they could continue their search for Glendower and pretend the world hadn’t ended. At least they ought to all agree on a wish now, he thought grimly. He shot Noah a sharp smile, his expression settling a little as his friend thought. “Adytum,” he repeated, tasting the word, it felt...right. He could tell immediately that it was the correct name. “Voco te Adytum.” He waited another long second, half expecting an answer. But the trees stayed silent. “Bastard,” he added, for good measure, and he was back, shaking his head and turning away. It was pretty, and peaceful, and it had a name. But it couldn’t solve anything. Gansey and Adam and Blue were still missing. The world had still ended. He turned, heading out without looking back.
Sherlock glared, but he was painfully aware of what little good that did. It wasn’t like the intended recipient could even see him. Crutchie hadn’t intended to kick him, that much was obvious to Sherlock, but he was still annoyed by it, and he wanted the boy to know it. He thought the kid was probably getting his eyesight back by now, anyway. So really, what excuse did he have? “I know. You can’t see,” he replied, still sounding annoyed, even if he had just acknowledged that he had no reason to be. Besides, he was well aware by now fear Crutchie could sort of see. It was obvious, as he was looking in Sherlock’s general direction. “Yes, yes, so I’ve been told,” he replied carelessly. “And you don’t think at all. You have thoughts, you interact with the world, but you don’t think. It’s infuriating. Humanity wouldn’t even be in this mess if half of them could use their heads.” He moved, bouncing over to one of his experiments, which was bubbling cheerfully away. “Look. You’re average, at best. I can’t waste time explaining everything, it would take ages and we’d never get anywhere at all. Just trust me. I’m the one who can actually use my brain.” He moved back to Crutchie and waved a hand in front of his face, testing for any change in eye movement.
Kelsier had no way of knowing how much he would end up hurting Nico. How badly he would end up messing this up...he couldn’t possibly know that. He didn’t know about Hades. He didn’t know even know what had happened to make Nico believe this was his fault. But he saw Nico. He saw a boy who didn’t deserve to be alone. He saw a boy who had gone through absolute hell, most likely, and was still here. He saw a boy who was going to make it, as long as Kel had anything to say about it. The las thing he was going to allow to happen was losing this kid, now that he had met him. It wouldn’t have made any difference if Nico has shouted. If he’d tried to make Kelsier leave by pushing telling the truth, all he would have done was make him more determined to stay. He didn’t want to push Nico out of his comfort zone, of course he didn’t, but he was going to do everything in his power to make this work. To show the kid that he didn’t have to be alone. To prove that, yes, the world was cruel, the world didn’t care, but people did. People cared more than he could possibly know. He wasn’t going to give in. He couldn’t give up, he couldn’t let himself think that this wouldn’t work. As long as he tried, as long as he made it his goal to protect this kid, he had a purpose, didn’t he? He needed a purpose. Was that selfish? He thought, possibly, it was. But he wasn’t going to stop. “Yes. I’m saying hope is like the virus, and if we try, we can spread it. We can help them all have it, too. The only difference is, it’s a cure, not a disease. It’s an antidote. All we have to do is have it, and we can give it away to more people, and help them have it, too.” He knew how it sounded. Idealistic, probably. But he believed it, and it showed in his voice, intense and soft at once. He believed it, because he knew they needed hope. They all needed hope. And he could give it to them. He knew he could do it. If this wasn’t how he could get him to smile...if it would take more than that, then he’d find a way. He was determined, not to save this kid, because he didn’t need saving, but to show him that survival wasn’t the end of the story. Survival was important. Survival was incredible. But you could live, too. You could find a way to live, after you’d survived. And maybe even at the same time. But the noises were getting louder. Kelsier couldn’t ignore them, and he wasn’t going to try. He wasn’t stupid. He knew how very wrong this could go, if he made one wrong move. He wasn’t going to get Nico killed, that was just a fact. He wasn’t going rp make this any worse than it already was. Were they surrounded? It was beginning to sound that way… He nodded, eyes moving to the door. “I have weapons,” he confirmed, his voice calm and steady. “But they won’t help against a herd. We need a way to blend in. We need to wait until…” He moved towards the door, pulling a knife free as he went. The door was shaking...he knew opening it was a really, really bad idea, but he just needed one zombie for his plan. “I’m going to open the door just a little,” he said finally, looking back at Nico. “And pull one inside. Then we’re going to need to get it shut again, which...won’t be easy.”
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jun 20, 2021 2:53:17 GMT -5
Music wasn’t a survival skill. Orpheus was painfully aware of this fact. His only relevant skill was keeping the zombies at bay. He didn’t know anything about fighting, and he often got so focused on his music that he didn’t realize when others had left to go get supplies. If L was studying his music, though… it meant that he would at least have L to remind him to stop playing when they needed to go out and get supplies. Hopefully, he could learn from his past mistakes. He wouldn’t lose this partnership (even if it was temporary) the way he had lost Eurydice. The thought brought a sharp pain to his stomach, and he did his best to push it away. Now wasn’t a good time to be thinking about everything he had lost. Orpheus had never had to move in the shadows. He had never needed to be afraid of attracting the attention of zombies, and he trusted his ability to talk down any humans who got a little bit trigger happy. Everyone needed a little bit of music. He was, therefore, rather clumsy in his attempts to follow L into the shadows. He wasn’t nearly as quick or as graceful, but he followed, eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out how not to get left behind. He didn’t think L’s speed was an attempt to ditch him, just an aptitude he had practiced that Orpheus had never had occasion to. He gave a quick nod, following to the best of his abilities as L made his way towards the buildings. He had lived in this new version of the world long enough to be aware of the potential threats… there were likely to be zombies and depending on where they were… Orpheus’ music might be next to useless. The noise might attract more of them, in the wrong situation, and… well, the last thing they wanted to was to get themselves walled up in a building that could easily be penetrated. “Have you explored this area?” he asked L, his voice scarcely more than a whisper. He was doing his best not to draw attention now that it was more than his own life on the line.
It was good to have Ronan back. That was the thought that kept playing over and over in Noah’s head, no matter how many times he tried to silence it. It was good to have Ronan back, even though he was endangering his best friend by staying. It was good to have Ronan back, even though he was going to have to break his heart eventually. The trip back from Adytum had been uneventful. No zombie encounters, though that didn’t mean much other than that they had managed to get lucky. No sign of Blue or Gansey or Adam, but they had only been looking for about an hour. Somehow, it seemed easier to find a dead Welsh king than it did to find the people Noah thought of as his best friends in the entire world. At least people left clues about where a not dead king was hidden. Nobody left clues about where three teenagers from Henrietta, Virginia had disappeared to. Noah was determined not to lose hope. They were going to find them. And when they did, that was when Noah was going to leave. Ronan wouldn’t be alone, and Noah wouldn’t be putting all of his friends in danger. “Maybe we should find a place to settle down for the night,” Noah suggested after a long moment, glancing nervously at where the sun had just gone down over the horizon. It was going to get dark soon, and though Noah enjoyed nighttime, he didn’t want to be trying to figure out an ages old map just by starlight. It would be best to find somewhere to sleep and attack the map with renewed vigor in the morning. “The best thing we could try would be to go back to Henrietta, right?” he asked, folding up his old map. They had been trying to figure out where they were for the last two hours at least. There were no signs or landmarks that could help them. It was one thing to have a goal. It was quite another to have a plan that you could actually put into motion. They couldn’t even really come up with a plan until they knew where they were starting from.
Sherlock was really, really getting on Crutchie’s nerves. He knew he wasn’t particularly intelligent, but that didn’t mean that Sherlock had to say it in such a derogatory way. He bit his tongue, doing his best from snapping at Sherlock right then and there. He had a quick temper, but most of the time he kept it under control by surrounding himself with people he wanted to be kind to. People who deserved him doing a few things for them on the side just because he could. Sherlock was most definitively not that kind of person. “There’s nothing wrong with being average,” he managed after a long moment, barely managing to keep the venom out of his tone. “You realize that if whatever you’re figuring out works, you’re going to have to talk average people like me through how it works, right? Because not everyone is as genius as you are.” Any attempt to keep sarcasm out of his tone failed. In Crutchie’s mind, average was a stupid concept. People learned and thought in different ways. So what if Sherlock was observant and detail oriented? So what if he noticed things other people didn’t? Crutchie’s genius usually lay in his ability to be kind to everyone around him, even when they didn’t necessarily deserve. Sherlock was really, really pushing that bar. “Look, just try. Maybe I’ll surprise you. I read something once about how in the old days, computer programmers used to talk to rubber ducks when they ran into things they couldn’t fix. I can be your… your stupid little rubber duck.”
Nico wasn’t sure he really appreciated the analogy of hope being like the virus that had caused this issue in the first place, but… well, hopefully it would be just as contagious. Nico had tried for so long to give up hope. Everything hurt more when you let yourself hope that things might be okay. That maybe, must maybe, you were redeemable. That maybe the terrible situation they were all in was fixable. Nico knew better than most that it really wasn’t that fixable, unless you could talk to Hades about it. Still, Kelsier had managed to infect Nico with hope after knowing him for less than a day. Either hope really was terribly contagious, or Kelsier was just… magic. Nico was inclined to believe it might be a little bit of both. Hope wouldn’t be quite so contagious if Kelsier didn’t seem so adamant that there was still a future out there beyond the life Nico had been living. “I wish the real antidote were that easy to find and spread,” he whispered under his breath, shaking his head a little bit. It wasn’t. Hope was part of a solution, but it wouldn’t actually fix the problem. It would just… make it a little bit easier to move on. They needed to stop ignoring the sound from outside. The conversation they were having had been all well and good when there wasn’t an immediate threat, but the threat was becoming more and more immediate. And Nico didn’t really want to go along with Kelsier’s plan, but it seemed like the best way to stay alive when they were surrounded… he didn’t have to like it for it to be a good idea. He wanted a weapon. He wanted something he could use to defend himself in case the situation went South, as he was almost positive it was bound to do. Any encounter with zombies was bound to go wrong, you just had to hope that it wouldn’t go wrong in a way that would cost anyone’s life. Nico’s eyes locked on Kelsier’s knife, and he almost asked if he could borrow one, but he didn’t want to distract Kelsier. He had a plan, and if he said anything… well, if he said something and it distracted Kelsier enough that either of them got hurt, Nico would never forgive himself. He would add it to the list of tragedies that were undoubtedly his fault, no matter what anyone said. At the top of the list was the apocalypse and everything that had happened as a result of it. “Are you insane?” Nico squeaked, Kelsier’s plan finally penetrating his thoughts. “I mean… you’re going to let one in here?” Nico shrank back, eyes narrowing as he looked at the door. It wouldn’t hold for very long… fear rose in his stomach as he stared at it, then surged forward, pressing the whole of his weight on it. “As soon as one is inside, I’ll slam it closed as hard as I can.” The idea was far from foolproof. Zombies were notoriously strong, and there were an awful lot of them outside. Nico weighed maybe seventy pounds dripping wet. He might not be able to slam the door shut before others got in. It didn’t mean he wasn’t going to give it his all, though. “What are you going to do once it’s inside?” Nico asked, still bracing his weight against the door. He was waiting for the go-ahead to let it open just enough to let one zombie through.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jun 30, 2021 20:31:22 GMT -5
Keeping the zombies at bay was perhaps more relevant to survival than Orpheus seemed to realize. Okay, so he couldn’t fight them. That was a bit of a problem, true. But not an insurmountable one. He couldn’t fix the past. For either of them. He could only continue forwards. He didn’t know if the partnership they had now would last. He doubted it. Truthfully, he wasn’t all that good of a team player, most of the time. He was good at hiding and good at fighting, but he wasn’t great at protecting. He didn’t know how. He glanced back. He could tell immediately that Orpheus wasn’t great at traveling silently. Or hiding in general. That would be a problem...but one to solve another day. He didn’t need to make this perfect immediately, he understood that it would take time if they were going to get used to each other. He did slow down a little once he realized Orpheus wasn’t quite keeping up, through, as he didn’t want to leave him behind, and it would probably be easier for him to be stealthy if he wasn’t also working on being fast. “Yes,” he confirmed as Orpheus spoke, his voice soft and hard to actually hear. “I’ve been here several times to scout the place out. I haven’t actually tried to go in a building yet, however. It’s just been for information before.” Which was probably why he was always last to try and get food. He was too cautious, he didn’t take enough initiative. He should have raided this place to begin with, but he hadn’t, because he had been afraid of being caught. Now, he was probably going to pay the price. He moved forward, towards a building, which thankfully had its door in the shade. He peered through the window...he didn’t see anyone. Or anything. But he didn’t know if that was a good indication of safety.
Ronan couldn’t quite get over the thrill of having Noah by his side again. The entire world had been shattered before, when he’d been alone. There hadn’t been much hope left, though he’d tried to look, tried to find them all in this garbage that was the remains of the universe. He had had time to think as they walked, but he wasn’t sure it had done any good. So he hadn’t spoken his thoughts out loud. Still, though, they sped through his brain. Tried to take him over. He’d found Noah. Or...rather, they’d found each other. So it was possible. It had to be possible, he couldn’t bear it if it wasn’t possible. And thinking of the way Noah could easily be stolen away again was torture. He tried not to dwell. Tried his best not to ler his brain latch onto that. He didn’t know Noah’s plan. If he had...he would have told him, in no uncertain tone, no. No, he wouldn’t leave. No, he couldn’t just decide Ronan would be okay if he did. No, no, no, Ronan wouldn’t let him be lost again so easily, because he was his head friend and it was like asking him to accept a death that hadn’t happened. He couldn’t do it. But he didn’t have a clue what Noah was thinking, so he didn’t say a word. He looked up at the sky, eyes finding the horizon as Noah spoke. He was right, of course. Trying to navigate in the dark was a bad idea. Ronan wasn’t sure he wanted to try sleeping, though. His jaw tightened a little at the thought and he shook it off, turning to look at Noah instead. “Right,” he replied, with certainty. “That’s where they’d be expecting to meet up again. And Gansey wouldn’t have wanted to leave it, even after the world ended.” Gansey was odd that way, but Ronan was confident he was right. He glanced around, looking for a place to stay, that wouldn’t be overly dangerous. Naturally, he didn’t see much safety anymore.
“Of course not,” Sherlock agreed, as though he’d said it already. “Nothing at all wrong with being average. Most people are, obviously. Anyway, you can do plenty of things, I’m sure, you’ve stayed alive so far and all that, it’s just not what’s needed here, in this moment, at this specific thing.” He shook his head a little, exasperated. Clearly, he’d offended Crutchie. Well, that was alright. He couldn’t make everyone happy, could he? It wasn’t like he really tried anyway. He knew he wa s smarter. He knew he was much smarter than this kid. Much smarter than most people. He didn’t need them to confirm what he already knew, and he didn’t care if Crutchie didn’t agree, because it didn’t matter at the end of the day. He was just bored. This seemed like the most time efficient way to stop being bored. He frowned a little, staring at Crutchie, his interest catching at last as the boy continued. “Rubber duck?” He repeated in a different tone entirely. “Yes. I used to have a skull. It worked well enough for that. Yes...yes. Alright, then.” He could agree to that. Crutchie would make an excellent skull. “Any change in your eyesight?” He added, with less restlessness this time. “It ought to be improving by now.”
It was true that everything was much worse when you were imagining it might actually be okay, and then it wasn’t. It was true that at the end of the day, there was a certain safety in hopelessness. But that wasn’t the end of the story. Without hope, you were going to give up, and miss the opportunities that actually did come along. Without hope, you were going to be blind to the good parts that still existed, even if they were few and far between. It was giving up on happiness, and giving up on the possibility that you could make it better, even if it wasn’t going to do it on its own. And Kelsier refused to do that. He wouldn’t give up. Even if the whole world beat him down, he’d just get up once again. Even if he was betrayed by everyone he’d ever known, he’d just meet new people and trust them, because the past was not always an indication of the future, and one betrayal didn’t mean everyone else was more likely to follow suit. It was like saying you were actually in more danger after you watched a horror movie, just because you felt like you were. But the concept of hope could be debated later. For now...the sound mattered a little but more pressingly. Though he was of course determined not to think it actually mattered more. The threat was more time sensitive, that was all. He was aware that this was dangerous. He was even more aware that if it failed he would never, ever forgive himself. But what other options did they have? None. They had no other options, not that he knew of. And Nico didn’t seem like he had any surprise tricks up his sleeve, either. He didn’t like to think of his chances of failure here. He didn’t want to imagine Nico, bitten, or Nico, torn apart. So he didn’t. There was only one thing he could do, and that was to move forwards as best he could. “I might be,” he admitted, testing the door’s strength. It wouldn’t hold long, but he thought they could open and close it if they had to. Which they definitely did. He turned the knife over in his hand, thinking hard, then glanced at Nico as he pressed against the door, giving the boy a searching look. He shook his head a little bit. “How are you with a knife?” He asked, meeting his eyes. His hazel ones careful. “I’m probably the better person to close the door. I have a much better chance of actually getting it shut, but...I won’t leave you not fight a zombie if you aren’t comfortable with that. Actually, if you want to try and stay back, that would work. I can always pull one in and shut the door, then kill it myself.” Which answered Nico’s second question. They needed to kill it. And then...maybe it was better not to think that far ahead. He hoped Nico wasn’t squeamish. Or hemophobic.
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 1, 2021 23:43:57 GMT -5
Orpheus had never really practiced being stealthy before. He had never needed to. His instrument was usually enough to deal with both zombies and other survivors. But he was much better at it when he didn’t have to fight to keep up with L. He dipped his head appreciatively at the slower pace, aware that L had to change how he was going about this just to suit him. For now, they were partners. If Orpheus started to be a burden, they might not be. That wasn’t ideal, but Orpheus would understand if that was how this ended. He just… hoped that it didn’t. He wanted to stay with someone for more than a few nights. He wanted friends, though he knew how unlikely it was that he would make those sorts of connections here, at the end of the world. He had never been good at friends beforehand, either. There were dozens of people he was friendly with, acquaintances who knew his name and his music but little else. Perhaps it was wishful thinking to imagine that he could travel with someone. To imagine that he would be welcome with someone for long enough to become friends. “I suppose we try to go in now, then,” Orpheus replied, looking up at the building. “It’s probably a little bit safer with two people rather than one. That way you have someone to watch your back while you take food.” Orpheus had seen plenty of supermarket raids before. He had been invited on a few when he was traveling with others for a day or two, providing music before they parted on a good note, the message clear: it was nice to meet him, but he wasn’t helpful enough to keep around. They hoped that he found somewhere safe to stay, and that he was able to keep working on his zombie prevention measures. Orpheus shook the thought off, following L as carefully and as quietly as he could. He was looking around, eyes narrowed as though he would be able to see any of the undead if they came near. It, unfortunately, wasn’t always that easy.
“Gansey wouldn’t leave Henrietta,” Noah confirmed, trying not to feel the regret burning a hole in the pit of his stomach. If he had only found a way to stay in Henrietta, then maybe everything would have been alright. Maybe Whelk wouldn’t have pushed him down. Maybe he would never even have fallen in with the wrong group. Maybe Ronan would have come back to Henrietta to look for him, and he would have been there, and together they would find Gansey, and Noah didn’t have to worry about dying because he had gotten bitten… he cut that thought off right there. He wasn’t dying yet, so he didn’t need to worry about it. He wasn’t dying yet. He wished he knew what stopped the infection from spreading. If there were still hospitals, he might have gone to one. He might have told the nurses his situation, and they probably would have experimented on him, but… but it would have been alright, because maybe he would be able to save people, even if he died. He shook that thought off, too. Noah Czerny had had enough of death. He didn’t want to look it in the eyes anymore. He didn’t want to face it. “I wonder if he’s still looking for Glendower,” Noah murmured, though the idea of Gansey continuing his search without them hurt. But maybe Gansey’s wish had changed. Maybe he had finally decided on a wish. They had been looking for Glendower for so long that Noah was fairly certain they all had a wish in mind except for him and Gansey. Noah had a wish now, though. He had a feeling Gansey did, too. Noah took Ronan’s hand, leading him towards a small copse of trees. Trees were no guarantee of safety from zombies, but at least they provided some shelter. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be something. And with two of them, they could take shifts (assuming Ronan was actually willing to let Noah take his shift instead of deciding that he could stay up forever because he was Ronan Lynch and nobody, not even the universe, told him what to do).
Crutchie blinked, almost entirely blindsided by Sherlock’s answer. He had almost expected Sherlock to believe that ‘average’ people couldn’t do anything correctly. He seemed to think himself so far above average that Crutchie had assumed he thought the worst of people who weren’t like him. It seemed that getting to know Sherlock – getting to understand him and know what he meant when he said certain things – was going to be more difficult than Crutchie had expected. Sherlock seemed to say what he meant, but what he meant wasn’t particularly clear. Crutchie frowned, inclining his head so it seemed more as though he was looking at the ground. “Can I ask you something?” he asked after a moment, biting his lip. “Would you be offended if someone called you average when it came to… say… sports?” Crutchie couldn’t tell if Sherlock thought of ‘average’ as an insult or not. He needed to figure that out before he was really able to figure out how to deal with the situation. It was possible that Sherlock just came across as condescending when he didn’t actually mean to be in the slightest. Crutchie’s sour expression returned when he found out he was going to replace a skull, but he figured it was no worse than a rubber duck. He was just there for Sherlock to talk at. Surely he would learn a thing or two from it, and maybe when he started to understand it all better, Sherlock might not even mind him asking a few questions of his own. “Hm? Oh… I guess I can see a little bit more light. I can’t see shapes or anything yet, though… just vague silhouettes.”
There were things Nico wanted to talk about when they survived this. Conversations they needed to come back to. Conversations they needed to have, because Kelsier kept saying things that Nico had never considered before, and he wanted the chance to consider it. He wanted to understand how Kelsier saw the world. He wanted to experience hope. So they needed to survive. They needed to make it out of this alive, and Nico needed to pull his own weight. Kelsier had literally carried him here. There was no way that Nico was going to make him do any more of the heavy lifting, even if he didn’t quite trust him. Nico had lost track of the number of times he had been in life-or-death situations. He had spent most of his life in a life-or-death situation, actually. This was just… a little bit more imminent. The zombies were right outside, and Nico knew he would have died if Kelsier hadn’t had a plan. He winced, looking up at the ceiling, at the exit they could use up there, but that wouldn’t work. There had been footsteps up there, too. If they left that way, they would be completely surrounded. Nico looked up at Kelsier, trying to keep the door closed with all his might. “A knife?” Nico asked, considering that briefly. His main strategy when it came to fighting off zombies was to hide and hope they didn’t find him. On the odd number of times he had needed to face them head on, he had plenty of practice using firearms. They were effective, but it was difficult to find one that still worked. If you found one, you also had to find ammunition, and good ammunition was even more rare unless you were able to figure out how to make it yourself. “I’ve used a knife a few times,” Nico commented, though he didn’t mention he had never actually killed a zombie with it. He had never actually fought one on his own, but he was determined to pull his weight here. They could trap a zombie quickly, and the quicker they could get the zombie killed, the better. If Nico made Kelsier do both tasks, then he wasn’t even close to doing his part. He could handle a knife. He would figure out how. He just had to stab, and avoid getting scratched or even touched himself. “I can kill it, if you need me to. I don’t need to stay back. I don’t… I don’t want you to have to do everything.” He bit his tongue, looking at the way the door was pounding, ready to break in at almost any moment. He was ready. He had the knife, and he knew Kelsier had a good point about being the one who needed to close the door. Kelsier had a lot more weight behind him to stop other zombies from getting past the door when they opened it. One zombie in their little hideout would be fine. Multiple zombies were… well, dangerous. Nico didn’t want the only kind man left to die of a bite they could have prevented if they had just been careful.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 31, 2021 0:03:31 GMT -5
L had needed to be stealthy even before the world had ended. He knew well enough how to be invisible, and the shadows weren’t so very different from it, overall. He didn’t know what Orpheus’ life had been like, but…he had a guess that it hadn’t been very much like his own. That was alright. They’d figure it out. He didn’t expect to ever have friends. He’d never had them before, after all…why now of all times? He was just a survivor with little to offer, and what he did have, he trusted barely anyone with anyway. Not to mention he could be downright irritating. No, he didn’t expect Orpheus to stick around. He’d be surprised if he hadn’t disappeared in a few days, if not at his earliest opportunity tonight. If they found anything here, at least. Orpheus probably wouldn’t leave until they found more supplies, so he could steal them on his way out. He looked at the survivor in question as he spoke, his expression, as it always was, unreadable. Had Orpheus suggested he be the one to collect the food while Orpheus watched his back for a reason? Or had it been merely the way it had come out? He didn’t know for sure, but he was careful about being manipulated, more than ever before. And he didn’t want to imagine having his hands full while a stranger was standing behind him, armed. Or if not armed, at least fully capable of throwing a punch. Still…he was right. Two were much better than one. He slipped into the store and stepped aside or let Orpheus inside. He didn’t want to have his back to him for even a moment, after all…temporary ally, perhaps, but there was often an emphasis on the first word, not the second.
Ronan didn’t know what Noah had been through. He didn’t know what had happened to his best friend, he only knew that they had both been through hell and they hadn’t even had each other to make it easier. If they’d all managed to stay together…if they hadn’t lost each other and Blue and Gansey and Adam…he didn’t know how to follow that line of thought. He knew things would have been very different. He wished he’d found a way, somehow, to make it happen. To keep them all together. But he hadn’t. So here he was, walking along with only Noah at his side. He didn’t mean that his best friend wasn’t enough, but… He missed them. Dammit, he missed them. “You think he’d stop?” He asked, trying to shake off the thought before they could consume him. Well…consume him any more. He shook his head a moment later. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if he managed to get to Blue or Adam, or…hell. Anyone would be better than no one.” He didn’t want to imagine Gansey trying to survive all alone. He didn’t want to imagine it. He forced the thought roughly away. Did Noah still think Glendower was out there? Did Ronan? He had tried to stop thinking about it. What good were wishes in a world like this one? He let Noah take his hand, though, and moved after him, towards the trees. It was getting late. He knew they needed to stop, but he wanted to keep going…he wanted to get back. Not home, maybe…he almost stopped right there. Home. The Barns. Was it even still standing? He would have to go back. He would have to go back, no matter what Noah said. He didn’t see why the other boy would object, though.
Sherlock, to be fair, did believe himself to be much smarter than…well, of not everyone else, that at least the vast majority. A high enough percentage that it was generally safe to assume he was. It usually didn’t take long for him to confirm, either. He said what he meant. Very bluntly. But then…he also didn’t bother to explain it very well, so it probably didn’t help much. It was keep up or get left behind with Sherlock Holmes. Even, it seemed, when there weren’t a lot of people left to go through. It wasn’t like he had a lot of options besides the boy he currently seemed dead set on annoying to death, after all. He didn’t even have his skull anymore…though replacing it would be a lot easier now. He paused, looking up at the question. He genuinely hadn’t seen it coming. He stared for a long moment, torn between being perplexed and dismissive, before he replied. “Sports? Why would I try sports?” He asked, and his tone for once was genuine. He frowned at the boy. “Which sports am I supposedly playing? Why? When did I begin?” He didn’t quite understand what Crutchie was talking about. It…probably wasn’t important.
Nico may not have wanted Kelsier to have to do all the dangerous bits, but that was where Kelsier’s and his interests diverged. Kelsier had every intention of taking on the most dangerous part of this…he just had to take into account the fact that Nico probably couldn’t physically hold a door with one zombie pushing against it, let alone however many they were dealing with. So he needed to be the one at the door. That was fine. He could pull one in and shut it just fine, probably. The bad part was that he would probably need a minute to actually get it shut, and he didn’t think he could restrain a zombie while he did it. So…he probably would have to rely on Nico a little bit, as much as he hated the idea. He watched the boy for a moment. Nico was right, he could kill it. He may have been small, but that didn’t mean he deserved to be underestimated. He could handle this. And if he got bitten, Kel would never forgive himself. “Okay,” he said finally. “I’m going to pull one in and shut the door. I might have to throw it a little, so you should probably stand…pretty far back. It’ll take me a second to actually get it closed again, so you’ll be alone with the zombie for a few seconds. You don’t have to kill it yourself, just don’t let it take a piece out of me while I’m busy.” He hesitated. “And, Nico? Don’t get bitten.” Not that he could really promise that. But Kelsier didn’t wait for a promise. This was a request. A personal favor to him. “Ready?” He added. And then he opened the door.
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Jul 31, 2021 1:08:53 GMT -5
When Orpheus had said ‘you,’ he had meant more of a general ‘you’ rather than L specifically. It was easier to do things in pairs when there was one person to watch the other person’s back. He was more than alright being the one to grab the food. L was probably better at defending a stranger anyway. It was possible that L would get hurt even without Orpheus intending it if Orpheus were the one on guard. He didn’t know how to fight. L probably did, if he had lived this long without a musical instrument that somehow magically annoyed zombies enough that they avoided it. Orpheus didn’t notice that L made an effort not to keep his back to Orpheus. He just gave a small nod as L stepped aside, moving in as quietly as he could so he could see what still remained. The thing about stores was that it had been long enough that most of the good stuff had been grabbed. There were times, however, when there were still small treasures hidden in the aisles, things that people had bypassed or had just not seen. There were things that others had decided they didn’t have room to carry, or maybe they had been kind enough to leave something nice to make a stranger’s day just a little bit better. Orpheus had done that before, when he had found un-melted chocolate in a convenience store. He still wondered sometimes who had found that. He hoped they had enjoyed it, even if they hadn’t realized it had been left specifically in the hopes that it would brighten their day just a little bit. “I’m going to start looking ahead,” Orpheus said after a moment, shooting a small smile at L. “I’ll see if there’s anything good someone might have left behind. Will… will you watch my back? Make sure there aren’t any zombies that I don’t see?”
It was easier for Noah to imagine that his friends had all found each other and were living together as happily as you could when the rest of the world fell apart. Sometimes, he even hoped that they had forgotten him, so they wouldn’t come looking. So they wouldn’t find him as he was now, faded and uncertain, moments away from succumbing to the infection caught in his cheek. He didn’t know if it would ever claim him, but he had lived in fear of it for so long that part of the fearless side of him had just been eaten away. He was, in a way, just a shell of the Noah he had been. Why would he want to subject his friends to that? But he was subjecting Ronan to it right now, and the other boy hadn’t said anything. Noah didn’t know if he had noticed, but Ronan was blunt. If he had noticed, wouldn’t he have said something? Noah rubbed the spot on his cheek, staring at the ground as he tried to force his thoughts back into something orderly. “I want to believe he found them,” Noah said after a long moment. “I want to believe that they’re still looking for Glendower, but they just haven’t found him yet, because they need you to do that. You’re the best Latin speaker, so maybe they hit a dead end and they’re looking for you so you can translate for them. And then as soon as we all find him, we can put things back together again and we won’t have to worry about whether they’re even alive ever again.” It was a childish dream and Noah knew it, but after everything he had been through… after everything they had all been through, he thought he deserved it. He thought there was very little harm in a little bit of wishful thinking, even if you knew it could never happen.
Nico braced himself, staring at the door. He was more than capable of killing a zombie by himself. It would be fine. He had done it before, though he was hardly practiced at it. He thought he had probably gotten lucky the first several times he had managed to take down the undead. They were slower than he was, and significantly less intelligent. He could actually strategize as he fought. They were forced to amble around and strike at whatever seemed like it was moving. They were hungry and desperate, but nobody could match Nico in desperation. He needed to survive. He needed to put this all right, somehow. He needed… he needed to fix the world. He owed it that. And in order to do that, he needed to survive. He was ready to be desperate this time, too. This time it wasn’t only his life at stake, but also the life of the one good man than was left. “I won’t get bitten,” Nico replied quietly, though it wasn’t a promise. It wasn’t a promise he could make, and he refused to make promises he wasn’t certain he could keep. All it took was one missed punch. All it took was being a few seconds too late to get up off the floor. Fighting zombies was life or death, because one blow was enough to kill you, if it was the right sort. He forced himself into his best approximation of a fighting stance, grabbing the pan off the stove – the one Kelsier had used to heat the beans. He let his eyes narrow as he hefted it, ready to use it as a weapon. It wasn’t ideal, but it would throw off anyone who got in Nico’s way. Or… well, hopefully it would throw off whichever zombie Kelsier let through. And then it was go time. Nico took a small step back, not wanting to get hit by the zombie thrown by Kelsier. It landed, shaking its head and grunting as Kelsier began to close the door. Nico advanced on it as silent as he possibly could, then swung the pan forward with all his strength. Leftover sauce from the beans scattered in almost every direction, but Nico didn’t care. He had managed to make a zombie crumple. It wasn’t dead, not by a long shot, but it would need a little bit more time to heal enough to walk. They had time for Kelsier to close the door, and that was all he had been worried about. Once the door was closed… well, that was the first part of their plan. The rest seemed easy because it was far away. He was certain it would seem significantly less easy in the thick of it.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Jul 31, 2021 19:20:50 GMT -5
L knew how to fight, though not as well as a lot of the people who were still alive did, and not in the zombie helpful way. He didn’t really know how to wrestle or stab or punch. Actually…his arms were fairly useless to him, as far as his danger to other beings went. He could kick hard and accurately enough to knock most of the living unconscious, which was also around the same amount it took to disorient most of the dead. He nodded to Orpheus. He didn’t really want to consider the chances of having to fight him. But he was a stranger, and everyone was willing to do things they hadn’t been before. Almost everyone, he amended. Everyone alive. It was natural selection, only it happened a lot faster. Those who were cruel survived; the percentage of cruel people was higher. Those who were kind died; kind people were an endangered species. He’d seen it in action. Kind people didn’t make the correct decisions for self preservation. They did things like sacrifice themselves for you when you weren’t paying close enough attention to them. And then they died, leaving you alone in a world you’d never known how to navigate in the first place and didn’t want to be alone in. Sometimes he wondered if he’d have survived that night if he hadn’t stumbled across the chocolate, miraculously uneaten and unmelted. It shouldn’t have made a difference in the face of something as big as what L had been going through, but it had given his hands something to do and his mind something to focus on, and he’d made it to daylight. And now he was walking with a stranger and trying not to feel the way it soothed the sharp loneliness, just a little. “Yes,” he agreed, giving a small, surprised nod at the request. Did Orpheus know his mistrust? Or was he just trying to help? Either way, L has no intention of letting the other survivor get hurt here. “Be careful when you go around corners,” he added after a moment. “Use the mirrors to check first.”
If Noah had changed in his deep, fundamental, irreversible way, as he believed he had, then it was only natural that Ronan was both highly aware of the difference and highly determined to do everything against and opposite it. Noah, before: a creature not unlike Ronan himself, in many ways, only Noah had thought he was invincible and had been reckless as a result, and Ronan had known he wasn’t and had been reckless as a result. Death had not come knocking to take his hand as it did in the darker sort of children’s stories. Death had better things to do than waste time spouting wisdom in the form of shitty poetry. Maybe, he considered, it had just done it once for publicity, and humans had taken it from there. More likely, Death had never bothered to do any such thing and humans were just idiots. It was impossible to unrealize a fact once you had learned it. So when Death had unceremoniously removed Niall Lynch, it was no longer possible for any of the brothers to continue pretending not to see it, a fact they had all decided to cope with in different and conflicting ways. It was, he considered, possible that Noah, after, couldn’t pretend anymore either. He looked at the other boy, eyes like a predator, only not as much when it was just them. Who was this boy? The question disturbed Ronan. Partially because it was a good one and partially because of its proximity to who am I? “Us.” He said finally. It wasn’t clear what he meant by it. He fixed Noah with the sort of iron stare he’d learned could generally either start a fight, or win one. “They’re looking for us. They need us to find him.”
It was an unfair request, Kelsier knew. Asking someone not to die was like asking for the world to not have ended. No one had any say in that, as far as Kelsier was aware. Asking Nico not to be bitten wasn’t asking for a promise. It was more like saying words that needed to be said for the sake of being heard, nothing more. He trusted Nico, in more ways than one. Trusting someone not a day after meeting them has always been a rare and objectively unwise thing to do. Now? It was just stupid. Especially for a man already betrayed by one of his most trusted. And yet he did. He trusted this kid. He had already made up his mind about it. It would take a lot to convince him he was wrong. So when he reached past the shaking door and grabbed hold of some rotting part of a thing that had been a person at some point, he didn’t look at Nico, just yanked it through the opening he’d made and released it at the right moment for momentum to take over. It was inside. And so far, it was the only one. Now came the hard part. Or at least one of them. He wasn’t under any illusion that any part of this could be considered easy. He shoved at the door, throwing his full weight against it and bracing his feet against the floor as he tried to get it shut before anything else could get a hand, head, foot, shoulder, anything through it. Realistically speaking, zombies shouldn’t have been very strong at all. Their muscles were all rotted, or rotting, or thinking about rotting, depending on how long they’d been legally dead. Kelsier was a stronger than average, fairly tall, extremely determined man who had not even started to consider rotting as an option. If he could arm wrestle his brother, who also had all of those qualities, if in varying amounts, he could win against the dead. Unfortunately, anything was deadly when there was enough of it. Fortunately, everything in this room could be considered deadly. He shoved, hard, and let a faint grin touch his face as he heard the latch click again, effectively taking over for him, if only temporarily. It wouldn’t hold much longer, but with any luck it wouldn’t need to. He turned swiftly to take in part of the situation still relevant. The zombie was down. He didn’t look at Nico as he slid the knife from his pocket, approached, and stabbed it cleanly through the head.
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Aug 1, 2021 0:39:36 GMT -5
Orpheus assumed, in general, that people were better at fighting than he was. He… well, he had no practice. He had fought zombies from time to time, of course. You couldn’t live in the world as it was without fighting them at least once, but he’d had his guitar. They had a tendency to wince away from that, to run as far as they could, because something about the low notes bothered them. Orpheus was perfectly fine with that. He couldn’t even hear some of the notes it produced – he had no way of knowing if it sounded good or not, but he supposed it didn’t matter. Noises that low put the zombies on edge. They put humans on edge, too, but the effect was so much more profound when it came to the undead. It was a weapon in and of itself, so Orpheus hadn’t learned how to protect himself any other way. It wasn’t the risk to play his guitar now, though. The goal was to get in and out without attracting any attention to themselves. Orpheus had to practice being quiet, here. He had to try to sneak around, to not be seen… he wasn’t the best at it, but he was a quick learner. He just copied L, who was very clearly good at it. Who had probably been doing it even before the apocalypse had begun. Orpheus wouldn’t ask that. It wasn’t any of his business what L had done before the world had turned upside down. He knew he didn’t always appreciate it when others asked him the same question. If Orpheus had known that the chocolate he had left behind had gone to the man in front of him… well, it wasn’t quite certain what he would have done. Maybe he would have given a private smile and asked L how he liked it. Maybe he would have said nothing. He hadn’t been looking for recognition in leaving it. He had just been hoping to make someone’s life a little bit brighter when the rest of the world seemed overwhelmingly dark. “I will,” Orpheus replied after a moment, dipping his head. He pulled out his mirror, heart racing as he began to move towards the aisles. There was no telling what might be lurking there. He didn’t want to be ambushed. He just wanted to find them both something to eat.
Noah had been reckless and uncaring, once. He had known about death, but it had seemed like something that would never come for him. It hadn’t come for him, yet, but… sometimes he thought it would be kinder if he died instead of the fate he was destined for. Becoming a zombie was like death, but worse. Your body kept moving, and everyone who saw you saw… well, who you used to be. It was your body they came to hate and fear, and if there was still a soul attached? Was there any hope for that soul, or was it just as corrupted as the body? That was what Noah was terrified of finding out, so he tried to pretend he was still human. He tried to pretend that he was never going to get sick, that he had never been infected. He didn’t want to leave Ronan alone. They had to find the others, so Ronan wouldn’t be alone when Noah had to leave. He wasn’t a fool. The virus hadn’t impacted him yet, but it was going to. He wasn’t immune. People that were immune had no signs of changing. Noah had some, sometimes. His cheek hurt. He could see the infection building there when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. “Us,” Noah echoed, though he didn’t quite feel it. He wouldn’t be with them for much longer. He wasn’t necessary to find Glendower. If they managed to wish the world back to normal… maybe he would be there. He didn’t want them to waste their one wish on just him, though, no matter how much he wanted to be fully alive again. No matter how much he hated the shadow of death hovering over him ceaselessly. “We’ll help them find him. And if we find them, then we’ll have already proven that we’re good at finding things that other people say are impossible to find. We’ll have a step up.”
Nico didn’t know if it was fair or not for Kelsier to ask him to survive. He just knew that there was no other option. Either you lived or died, and Nico needed to live long enough to make up for the mess he had caused. It had started out as a self preservation instinct, a refusal to die even when every voice in his head screamed that he deserved to. Now, it was more than that. Now it was a drive to keep going because he had caused a lot of harm, and if he kept living, maybe he would be able to fix it. Maybe he would be able to make up for some of the pain he caused. He would never be able to balance out all of it, but if he could make even a little bit of a difference… it wouldn’t be enough, but it would be something. All Nico had ever wanted to do was make the world better. Instead, he had destroyed it. Could anyone blame him for wanting to survive to help put it back together? Perhaps he deserved to die, but he couldn’t make himself believe that. This was a small first step. This was distracting a zombie so it didn’t kill the one man left with morals. The one good man left in the entire world. If Nico stayed with him, would they be able to inspire more people to be good? Would others see what Kelsier did and how he operated and change their own lives? Nico found it hard to believe, but Kelsier had spoken of hope. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there was hope, even now. Perhaps the more misfortune there was, the more there was reason to hope. Reason to believe that things could change. That things wouldn’t always be terrible. The zombie was dead. Nico blinked, disgust boiling in the pit of his stomach, though he didn’t give voice to it. He should have been prepared. He had killed zombies before, but they were still so human. If there were a cure, those people could be human again. It wasn’t terribly difficult to believe. Their eyes, though blank, were always still so human. The eyes changed the least, Nico had found. “What now?” Nico asked, eyes wide as he stared at the body. It wasn’t a zombie anymore. It was just a body. A human body. It had once belonged to someone alive. Someone with friends and family who cared what happened to them. And in a convoluted way, it was Nico’s fault they were dead. Nico’s fault that their friends and family had needed to mourn. That the person the body had belonged to had never been saved. All Nico’s fault.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 9, 2021 20:55:02 GMT -5
L was assuming Orpheus wouldn’t play the guitar. He’d have expressly told him not to, but honestly, it hadn’t occurred to him. He was concentrating on getting the food and keeping an eye on the other survivor and generally staying alive at the moment. Nothing else was important until it started demanding his attention, and it hadn’t yet. He really didn’t expect his to last very long, anyway. He didn’t think Orpheus would want to stay, and even if he for some reason did, why would L let this become something permanent? It was probably safer not to. Safer to just let it end naturally, whenever that happened. He followed Orpheus carefully, eyes swiveling around to take in all his surroundings. He had every intention of protecting this person, even if it wasn’t permanent. He wouldn’t be the cause of his death. He just wouldn’t. At least it seemed that Orpheus was learning. He was trying, clearly. L quietly began to exaggerate his movements, showing Orpheus what to do without words. Or hoping to. It was entirely possible his efforts would go completely unnoticed, but that was okay. He’d just tell him if anything became urgent. He did want to inspect the guitar at some point before Orpheus left. He wanted to know if he could figure out how the noise worked, and why it bothered the dead so much. It was a fascinating discovery…he regretted the lack of internet. He was sure he’d have heard about it a lot sooner if that still existed. Then again, he wouldn’t need it if he still lived in that sort of world.
Ronan didn’t know what Noah was planning. He didn’t know that once they found the others…that would be it. Noah would leave, thinking Ronan would be fine so long as he wasn’t alone. And maybe he was right. Maybe Ronan would pull through that loss. It wouldn’t be the first time he had. He knew he was lucky not to have lost anyone else, with the way the world was now. He didn’t feel lucky. He felt like his entire family was missing, and probably dead. But he had Noah. He had Noah, and he wasn’t going to let him go. He didn’t know he was already gone, in a way. He saw the smudge, but he didn’t question it. Maybe he should have looked closer. Maybe he should have known. His grief had always been an explosive thing, built more for destroying than anything else. And it would be grief, if he lost Noah again. If he lost him permanently. How many times could a heart break before it couldn’t be fixed? “Hell,” he said finally, eyes ahead of him. “Maybe we’ll find Glendower first. Maybe we’ll find them afterwards and clear the way. We’re supposed to be his f(oops)ing magicians, aren’t we? Maybe, if all that is real, if everything is real after all…maybe we’re supposed to find him first and make it safe.” He knew that Noah had never really been referred to as one of Gansey’s magicians, but he had always that was a bit stupid. He was right there, wasn’t he? He was as in love with them all as they were with him, as they all were with each other. Besides, wasn’t three supposed to be a good number? Gansey’s three magicians.
Kelsier didn’t know what Nico had done, but he didn’t think it mattered. This kid…he was trying to survive. He was just trying to survive, and Kelsier wanted to help him succeed. It wouldn’t be easy. He didn’t even know if he would be wanted. But he would do everything he could to convince Nico that he was on his side. However long that took. He was used to killing the zombies by now. It didn’t bother him. They weren’t really people anymore. He was just making it so they never killed anyone else again. It felt right to end them. Oddly enough, he didn’t think about the possibility of a cure much, considering how deeply he believed in hope. He thought of saving the world. But he didn’t often think of the dead coming back. Maybe a part of him didn’t want to imagine there being a cure in a world where Mare was dead in every sense of the word. Where not even a cure had a chance of bringing her back to life. Which was selfish, and not something he truly thought, but was easy enough to ignore as long as it didn’t move around too much in the back of his mind. “Now,” he replied, offering Nico a smile and a knife, hilt first. “We turn into zombies.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Aug 10, 2021 0:55:46 GMT -5
Fortunately for L, Orpheus wasn’t planning on playing. His fingers rested gently on the strings, as they almost always did, but he made no move to play them. It was a last-minute defensive strategy, if they were found. If they were suddenly in a place overrun by zombies. At the moment, that didn’t seem likely. They felt almost entirely alone here, as though nobody alive had been in these walls for a very long time. Of course, zombies weren’t alive. It was possible they were everywhere and Orpheus just hadn’t noticed them because they didn’t give off the same sort of light and energy that humans did. He knew the risk. Playing music, though a good way to ward off zombies when he was surrounded, was also a very good way to get their attention. Though they disliked the sound, if Orpheus didn’t play loud enough or if he didn’t hit the right notes, they might end up venturing closer rather than veering away. It would be better to slip in and slip out without seeing any zombies than it would be to get out if they had managed to catch their attention. Orpheus mimicked L, well aware that he looked ridiculous trying to emulate his movements. It seemed like they came easily to L, but Orpheus was unused to that way of moving. He wasn’t particularly graceful by nature, unlike L. He wasn’t clumsy (usually), but he wasn’t used to sneaking around and avoiding notice. Slowly, Orpheus began to look around for anything that might be useful. He grabbed a long-expired box of granola – one of two left on the shelf. He could have grabbed the other one, too, but he figured it would be better to leave it for other survivors. They likely weren’t the only ones who would come here to replenish their supplies. Orpheus winced as the package made a loud crinkling sound and he looked around, terrified he may have caught something’s attention.
Noah’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly as Ronan referred to him as one of Gansey’s magicians. He had never been that special to Gansey. The magicians were Adam and Ronan. They were the ones who could make miracles happen. It was the three of them, in most situations. And, when they remembered, it was the three of them plus Noah. GanseyAdamRonan as one being and their pet friend, Noah. Noah pushed the thought away. It hadn’t been like that, not really. He had clicked, just like the rest of the group had. Gansey had found each of them, and they wouldn’t be the same if even one of them had been missing. Sometimes, though, Noah couldn’t help but feel that he was the weak link. He had felt that before, but the feeling was rare enough that he had once been able to push it off as anxiety. Ronan was brutally honest. If Noah was a waste of space, if he was in the way, then Ronan would tell him, and he wouldn’t pull any punches. But Noah’s certainty had been rocked by Whelk’s betrayal. Once, Noah had believed Whelk to be an impossible mixture of Gansey, Adam, and Ronan all in one person. He had Gansey’s fascination with the unseeable, Ronan’s fire, and Adam’s determination. As it turned out, he’d just been a cruel boy who valued his own life more than anyone else’s. In his situation, would Noah have pushed himself down? Discomfort settled in the pit of his stomach and he curled in on himself, forcing himself to breathe. “Maybe we will,” Noah managed, searching Ronan’s eyes. “I’d like that. I’d like to be the person who finds him first. I want to be the person who says the wish.” In that situation… no matter what desires he had himself, he would wish for the right thing. He would wish that none of this had ever happened. He would wish Gansey and all of their friends back, and they would laugh about this, and maybe Gansey would be disappointed that he hadn’t gotten to see Glendower in person, but it was okay because he was still alive.
-- Nico was tired. He hadn’t expected to be that exhausted after making his way through a crowd of zombies (okay, maybe he should have expected it). He hadn’t actually expected to survive when he had heard them about to pound in the roof of his makeshift hideout. It was supposed to be his space. It was supposed to be safe, but it clearly wasn’t. Maybe there was nowhere safe left in the world. That was a depressing thought – Nico tried to push it out of his head, but it seemed to have gotten lodged there. Maybe Kelsier would be able to coax it out. “Where do we go now?” Nico asked, hating the weakness in his voice as he looked up at Kelsier. He didn’t’ know why he trusted him as much as he did. It could all technically be a scam. Kelsier could be planning on turning him in to his father… but somehow, he doubted it. Somehow, he wanted to believe that Kelsier wasn’t going to tell him a single lie. He had gotten them both through that situation alive, hadn’t he? “And can we clean my jacket?” Nico added, his voice even smaller as he peeled off the garment, staring at it in all of its zombie-stained glory. “It’s kind of… important to me.” He looked at Kelsier, attempting to gauge his reaction. He wasn’t used to being that open about anything, really. It meant being vulnerable, and Nico hadn’t let himself be vulnerable in front of anyone in a very long time.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Aug 30, 2021 18:12:16 GMT -5
L could tell Orpheus wasn’t at all used for moving this way. Was he stealthy in a different way, or not at all? It didn’t really matter as long as he didn’t call attention to them. As long as they could make it in and out of here without getting seen by anything, they’d be fine. He kept watch. Nothing had jumped out at them yet, but it didn’t mean anything. The dead were stupid, but they didn’t often make noise when they were left alone for long periods of time, and if they hadn’t noticed anyone yet, they could easily be just…waiting. Lying dormant until they heard something. So he needed to pay attention. He noticed the granola Orpheus left behind, and hesitated, half tempted to take the other one. Why had Orpheus left it? It was food, wasn’t it? They needed to hoard as much as possible, so they wouldn’t have to go out as often. Anything they left behind would almost certainly be gone when they returned. Orpheus had to know that if he’d made it this long. He turned back to the aisle, reluctantly leaving it. He’d have to ask about it later…for now, his job was to keep watch. He couldn’t start trying to do Orpheus’ too. Or he could, but only if he was willing to commit to it.
Noah had always been a part of them, completely, in every way the rest of them were connected. Hadn’t Gansey always said he wa sure of them all, relieved when they’d joined, like he’d been waiting for it to happen? Noah had been the same. Noah had been needed, and wanted, as much as the rest of them were. They had all felt less than worthy before. Ronan certainly had. How could he not, in the presence of Gansey, Adam, and Noah? He may have been Gansey’s friend first, but he was no less close to the others. They were family. Each in their own way, but family, all the same. Noah had been a magician, too. Not the same as Ronan and Adam, but Ronan and Adam had never been the same, either. The three magicians…the best number. He glanced at Noah. Something impossible had already happened. They’d found each other, hadn’t they? Maybe that meant they’d find the others, too. Maybe it wasn’t over. He wasn’t one to be optimistic. But in this case, he didn’t have a choice. He gave a small nod, continuing forward, jaw set. “Then we’d better keep moving,” he said finally. “We’ve already lost a lot of time. We can’t afford to waste any more,” He would let Noah say the wish, if it came to it. He knew he would. It was only right…Noah felt like the right person to do it, in every way Ronan wasn’t.
It had been hard, but not as bad as Kelsier had feared. He’d done it before, of course, though not recently. Last time… Well, he was just pleased that they’d made it. No bites. He’d been watching Nico close enough that he was confident he’d have seen it happen, even if the boy decided not to tell him. They’d succeeded. “Now…” he replied, catching his breath and glancing around. The area they’d ended up in was sparse, but not empty. They’d need food, soon. Nico needed rest, too, as soon as it was safe enough. He turned and smiled at the boy. “Now, we should probably scout out the area. I don’t know what’s here, but there has to be food and shelter somewhere. We should figure out where it is as soon as we can.” He glanced at the jacket, pausing at the tone. Nico sounded…almost shy. As though he was worried about letting himself seem vulnerable. Which he probably was. “Of course,” he replied easily, looking back at the street. “We’ll want to do that anyway, for sanitary reasons, but we can make it a priority. To tell you the truth, I liked this shirt. Maybe we can rescue both of them.”
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Transgender
strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Aug 31, 2021 1:48:30 GMT -5
Orpheus had never needed to be sneaky before. It just wasn’t in his skillset. He had skills that enabled him to survive as long as he had, but they were mainly based on his skill with his guitar. If he kept the zombies at bay, he was usually alright. He was friendly enough that he was able to rely on kind strangers for food, so long as he provided them entertainment. He had, of course, gone into grocery stores to take what he needed when he was running low on supplies, but his concern in those situations had very rarely been keeping quiet. If he was noticed, he had his instrument to push the zombies away. That was a bit more difficult when there was someone else around. In this case, it was better to stay as quiet as possible so as not to draw any attention to themselves. There was another aisle to go, though most of the shelves had been picked clean. It was kind of whoever had been here before to leave some things for anyone who came after, even if it was just because there were limits to how much weight one person could carry. It meant that people like L and Orpheus were able to have another meal. Orpheus grabbed a can of pears, pleased that they still seemed to be in good shape. Fruit like that was what counted for dessert, now.
“Is it wasting time if we were using it to survive?” Noah asked, rubbing at his cheek. He knew what Ronan meant, though. They hadn’t been expressly looking for each other. They hadn’t spent every hour of every day scouring the earth for each other and their other friends. They had let time slip past, either hoping against hope that all of their friends were together or pointedly not thinking about it as they tried to survive on their own. Noah had tried to believe that all of their friends were still together, that Noah was the one who had gotten separated. He had liked to believe that they were all looking up at the same stars, and that the rest of his friends were sending up silent prayers that he was okay. He had sent silent prayers to the sky for them, too, though he had never been very religious. Ronan had gone to church far more than Noah ever had. They had no idea where to go, but Noah knew that it wasn’t going to be like before. They weren’t just going to wander. They were going to look, and they weren’t going to give up until they found either the others or Glendower. If they found the others, they wouldn’t technically need Glendower. If they found Glendower, then they could wish for their friends. Noah had been wandering for so long without purpose that the small, warm feeling in his chest came as a surprise. This was what it meant to be living with a goal in mind. This was what it was like to live as more than just a drifter, unsure if he was going to make it through another day as himself. “Do you have any idea where to start?”
“I liked that shelter,” Nico murmured, pulling his arms tight around himself. He had spent a very long time scouting around nearby areas to locate somewhere that might be safe for him. He had made sure that all of the entrances and exits were secure, and he had made ways to tell if anyone had stumbled into his shelters. Now one of them was gone, and they were very far away from any of the others. If they didn’t find shelter, they were going to have to sleep out in the open. Nico had done it before, and he hadn’t had anyone to keep watch back then, but… it wasn’t a comfortable idea, even with someone to look after him. “Do you know where we are?” Nico asked after a moment, looking around. They had ended up in an area of town that Nico was unfamiliar with. He didn’t have any idea how far away they were from his shelter, but he had a feeling they couldn’t be far. Which meant they had gone in one of two directions, he just… didn’t know which one it was. Unfortunately, that also mean the had no idea what might be around that would prove helpful. “Thank you,” he added after a moment, pulling his jacket closer against him in spite of the zombie guts still clinging to it. He didn’t want to explain why it was special, he just knew he didn’t want to have to survive without it.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Sept 10, 2021 21:33:35 GMT -5
L was surprised that there was any food at all, if he was being honest. He always was. He seemed to be an incurable pessimist, always expecting the worst to come, and then for that to look like a vacation compared to what happened next. It may not have been the most cheerful way to live, but he was alive, so something was working. If constantly expecting things to be as hard as they could be meant he was prepared for anything, then he’d continue on that way for as long as he could survive. He did catch sight of the pears. As long as he got a chance to actually eat those…he was going to enjoy them. As long as they were still edible, at least. He knew this wasn’t a world where he could survive if he didn’t eat like anyone else. He knew he had no choice but to force himself to adapt. It didn’t make it any easier to stomach some things, though. How people used to choose those things over his food was a mystery he’d never solve. He moved along quietly behind him, keeping watch. He wasn’t exactly pleased about the fact that Orpheus was the one carrying the food, which meant all he needed was a good opportunity and a straight shot at the door to take it and go, but it was still the safest arrangement by far. He’d much rather lose the food than be unable to defend himself because his hands were full.
“It was wasting time if we didn’t use it to find them, too,” Ronan muttered. He understood the point, he just didn’t want to accept it. It shouldn’t have taken so long for him to find Noah. It shouldn’t have taken him to long to think to go back to Henrietta. That was where they were going to find each other, right? Why hadn’t he just gone back? It didn’t matter now. He was going back, they both were. And Gansey and Adam and Blue would be there, because that was where they were supposed to be. At least…Gansey would be there. Blue would probably be there. Adam… Well. He’d always planned to leave, hadn’t he? He shook his head, jaw tightening a little. What they needed was a car. If they had a car, they could go wherever they needed to, and waste as little time as they possibly could. If they had a car, he could do something right. “Yep. Henrietta,” he replied, moving forward, his pace steady. He didn’t quite look at Noah, though he never stopped looking everywhere else. Getting ambushed now would be a little bit too ironic for his tastes.
Kelsler didn’t reply right away. It wasn’t exactly that he didn’t know where they were anymore - it was that, partially - it was just that he was pretty sure he had been there before. He wasn’t sure when, but it looked familiar. Enough that he was pretty sure he had a hunch as to which direction they should go. Would Nico take a hunch seriously? There was only one way to find out, really. He wanted the kid to want to stay with him. And he couldn’t really do anything about it if he decided that wasn’t what he wanted. But so far, hunches had saved his life more than once, so he was going to make the most of them. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been here before,” he replied, glancing at the kid. “I don’t remember it that well, but I think I know where to go. We should probably get our hands on some supplies pretty quick, but we’ve got a little time to look around. And the more we explore, the more likely we are to find something to get that jacket cleaned up again.”
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Sept 11, 2021 23:20:58 GMT -5
Orpheus was lucky not to have developed any sort of unique diet before the apocalypse had hit. There wasn’t much he found himself unable to eat, though he missed the food he had eaten at home, sometimes. There just weren’t the supplies for traditional Greek meals, and it wasn’t as though grocery stores or convenience stores carried Greek snacks. Sometimes, he wished he had ended up closer to home when the apocalypse had hit. Was the rest of the world struggling like they were? It seemed hard to believe that the rest of the world was fine, but Orpheus couldn’t help hoping that was the case. He wanted there to be less pain. He wanted to believe that most of the world wasn’t suffering the way they were here. He wanted to believe that there were people in other parts of the world who might be working on a cure, who were just trying to figure out how to help their friends and family in America. He knew it was idealistic. He knew it wasn’t likely. Still… there was no harm in hoping. “I think we’ve got everything they have,” Orpheus told L, purposefully leaving a few cans behind for others. Or, if they needed to, for them to come back and grab it. It felt smarter to just take what they needed. It felt kinder, too. The world was awfully short on kindness these days, and Orpheus hoped that L wouldn’t protest to Orpheus attempting to spread a little bit of it back into the world.
The truth was, Noah hadn’t known where Henrietta was. He had never been very good at geography, and it was hard to find where he was going when the streets were all unfamiliar. It was a miracle he had run into Ronan… he had been too young when the apocalypse had started. He had been too young to pay attention to street signs, too young to understand where he was in relation to where he wanted to go. And Whelk had travelled what felt like a very long way away from Henrietta. He had said he wanted to get to New York City. It was a long way away, but there were so many people there that at least some of them must have known what to do. He had cursed about how he wanted to take his family’s helicopter, but that he didn’t have the access key. Noah hadn’t known what to make of that. He hadn’t had any ideas, and New York sounded better than nothing, and by the time he had been left alone… he’d had no idea what state he was in. He couldn’t have found Henrietta if he’d tried. “Do you even know where we are in relation to Henrietta?” Noah asked, voice quiet.
Nico had nothing against hunches. He knew they were powerful things, sometimes. Intuition told you more than observation and logic did, at least until you learned that intuition was your body’s way of processing logic subconsciously. It wasn’t exactly the same thing, but it was close enough. If Kelsier thought he had been here before, Nico was willing to believe him. The landscape had changed enough over his lifetime that he had a hard time believing he’d recognize many of the places that were familiar to him growing up, but maybe if he encountered any of them, he’d have the same thought as Kelsier. The vague feeling that it was familiar, but… not really knowing for sure. Not knowing positively that you were going the right direction. “I guess your hunch is better than not having a clue,” he added, pulling his ruined jacket closer to his chest. He didn’t care that he was just making himself smell more like zombie guts. “Do you know where we can get supplies or… or a roof over our heads?” Or… maybe not a roof. That hadn’t turned out very safe. Maybe somewhere not quite out in the open, but not as easy to get trapped in as a house. He wasn’t going to add that stipulation yet. He knew that beggars couldn’t afford to be choosers.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Sept 15, 2021 17:57:36 GMT -5
L had gotten lucky so far, as far as food went. He had been forced to try and eat some things he hated, and he had been forced to go without food for even longer then he would have otherwise at times when he couldn’t, but he was still alive. Somehow, though, the food he ate didn’t always have the same effect it had had before the apocalypse. He assumed it was because he didn’t get enough of it, but he could tell there was a difference It didn’t matter much, as long as he could continue to function. His brain was no longer quite as useful to the world anyway. He had to admit, it was less pressure not to live a life where you directly impacted that many lives, but…he missed it. He missed being a detective and having cases to work through. Instead of just trying to figure out where his next meal was coming from. He wasn’t sure why Orpheus was leaving food. It seemed smarter to take all they could, so they wouldn’t have to go out again anytime soon, but…maybe he had a reason not to. “You did leave some,” he replied, glancing meaningfully at the cans Orpheus hadn’t taken. “So we don’t have everything they have. Do you need help carrying it?”
Ronan had driven before the apocalypse. He had known how to navigate using signs, and he had known how not to get lost. This was…not that. This wasn’t a road, and he wasn’t a driver. He should have never left Henrietta in the first place, but he had, and somehow it had turned into this. He hadn’t meant to leave. He hadn’t meant to go so far when he did. Things had forced him to keep moving, though. He had been almost cornered enough times, especially in the early days, to convince him he needed to keep moving and not stay in buildings, or even cars. That had been a loss. It was probably a good thing he hadn’t had his car at that point, or he might have been stupid enough to keep using it anyway. He glanced at Noah. No one had made it without some close calls, and he knew his best friend was no exception to that rule. He wondered if he’d ever get to hear about any of them, when they could just be stories instead of…whatever they were now. He looked away. He could sense Noah’s eyes on him without looking. He knew what he was thinking. That Ronan was reaching. That Ronan wasn’t using his head as well as his heart. “I’ll figure it out,” he replied, voice and eyes hard. “How hard can it be?”
It was interesting that people who were supposedly all for things like logic didn’t seem to like hunches all that much. Kelsier knew where hunches usually came from. They were just as reasonable as most actual reasoning, generally speaking. But as long as they couldn’t actually stop Kelsier…it didn’t really matter much, did it? He cared what Nico though, nateully, but there weren’t all that many people he had minded annoying, both before and after the world had ended. “I think I know where we can start looking for one of those things,” he replied, turning a little to look over the street. “How about we try…that way.” He wasn’t positive the direction he was pointing would lead anywhere they needed to go, but Nico was right. They did need supplies, and maybe a place to stay while they got their bearings again. And as much as he didn’t like the idea of being trapped in another building, it wasn’t as though sleeping out on the street was really that much safer. Safety wasn’t a thing you could have anymore, exactly. It was more a thing you tried to keep on hand, at least a little. Much like food.
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strider
No mourners, no funerals
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Post by strider on Sept 17, 2021 2:56:18 GMT -5
Orpheus glanced back in the direction of some of the food he had left. He knew it was there, and he also knew that, if he had a choice, he wouldn’t go back for it. It wasn’t his to take, unless L was absolutely certain they needed it. In Orpheus’ opinion, they didn’t. They had enough to get by for a while, and in a world where resources were so limited, it was for the best to leave some for other survivors. It wasn’t as though the zombies were going to eat the canned food that was left on the shelf. It seemed ironic that they preferred their food a little bit fresher than that. “I know,” Orpheus replied, glancing back at what he had taken. It was a decent arm’s full of food, but it wasn’t everything. He probably could have carried out everything that was left in the store if he had been trying. “There are other people who are alive and struggling to find food, just like we are. I think… at least, in my experience, it’s best to just take what we need right now. Take what we can carry and what will get us through to the next time we need to go out and look for food. That way someone who might not have any supplies at all has a chance at survival if they come this way.” Orpheus knew that he couldn’t really help people directly. What did that matter if he was able to help them like this?
--- There were no easy maps to Henrietta. No signs that said “You are here!” like there used to be. Okay, well… those signs still existed, but they weren’t exactly the most helpful. They had a motorcycle to start getting around, but that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that Noah didn’t know what the nearest big town to Henrietta was, and none of the maps he was seeing showed anything other than the immediate surrounding area. If they had been in a big city, it would have been easier. If they knew which way to walk to get to a big city… It was Noah’s turn to keep watch. He had started out by pacing – he didn’t sleep much anyway (too many nightmares), and he needed a way to work off some of his extra energy. He needed a way to make his thoughts begin to make sense. It seemed like they were getting slower. It was hard to tell sometimes whether his mind felt foggy because he was tired, or because the virus that was contained under his skin had spread. When would he cease to be himself? Noah gave a quiet grunt as his thoughts flew from one to the next, racing too fast for him to catch them. He ambled forward, hoping that maybe, just maybe… he’d be able to catch up.
Nico thought there was a difference between a hunch and a guess. Both were, in a way, based on some sort of logic. At least… an educated guess was, and he had a feeling that Kelsier was more likely to make an educated guess than to just try something random because he thought it might work. The world they lived in may have been chaos, but there was very little about chaos that was random. Nico had learned that well enough as he was trying to run from his father. He had caused this, but there was still something that felt very organized to him. He hadn’t known if that was his family or the universe. The point was, a hunch felt like it had a little bit more logic behind it than a guess. Even if it was a well-informed guess, there was still no guaranteeing the outcome. There was less prior experience wrapped up in a guess than there was in a hunch. Hopefully, Kelsier deciding where they were going was more of a hunch than it was a guess. “What do you think is over there?” Nico asked quietly, pulling his arms close to his chest. He may not have been awake for very long, but the day’s events had already started to exhaust him. Perhaps, he realized, that was also from healing from a wound while being severely malnourished. He didn’t know how far they’d be able to go before he needed a rest break. It seemed like a good idea to figure out where they were going to spend the night, first.
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Post by ®Hawkpath® on Sept 20, 2021 7:21:03 GMT -5
L hesitated, blinking at the explanation. That…hadn’t been at all what he’d expected to hear. People didn’t think about other people, anymore. L had assumed that was just the way things were now. He hadn’t thought it was a good thing, of course…he had hated it, in fact. But that didn’t change the fact that it hadn’t even occurred to him to try and help someone he hadn’t even met, yet. “Oh,” he replied after a moment, glancing at the supplies leftover. Orpheus could have been lying, of course, but…there was no motive for that. It wasn’t like he stood to gain anything by leaving this stuff, unless he planned to come back for it without L’s knowledge. But that would be foolish. If he wanted to steal it, he would take it all and just steal it from L directly. Leaving it here with the intention to come back for it was just unnecessarily risky. Which meant…he was probably telling the truth. “Sorry,” he said finally, turning his wide, intense stare back on Orpheus. “I should have thought of that. Shall we go, then?”
The difference between keeping watch and letting Noah keep watch was rarely sleeping and not sleeping, for Ronan. He didn’t know how much sleep was needed to live, but however much it was, all the doctors had lied about the entire eight hours thing. Clearly, you needed very little, technically speaking. He hoped someone had made a lot of money off that scam. Probably they’d sold things like pillows and mattresses and alarm clocks that were specially designed to wake you up in the most annoying way possible. Probably they were also dead and no longer cared about their scam. Ronan would have hated them, if he’d ever fallen for it. But his nightmares had come long before the end of the world had, so he’d been entirely immune to the lie that was easy and accessible sleep. Once, he’d have done something very stupid when he couldn’t sleep and no one else was awake to stop him. Driven to the Barns, for example. He felt personally affronted that even that small, bittersweet joy had been taken from him. It had happened long enough ago that he was no longer angry, just…whatever the quieter version of anger was. He didn’t know the word for it. He mentally added it to the list of words to make Gansey think of, whenever they found each other again. He sat up, disgusted by his own consciousness, an emotion that only made him feel more awake. He considered joining Noah…he didn’t want to be alone. He hated being alone, especially now that he had been for as long as he had. He didn’t really want to talk, though. Well, if Noah tried to talk, he supposed he could always just take advantage of the fact that Noah wasn’t supposed to follow him and walk away. His mind made up, he got to his feet, turning to head for Noah. And stopped. Was he…leaving? “Oy! Czerny!” He called, the words too much of a knee jerk reaction for him to think to lower his voice. Hopefully there wouldn’t be any zombies around. He just… Didn’t want to lose Noah. Not again. Where was he going?
This was…almost certainly a hunch. A guess was more conscious, in Kelsier’s opinion. You could make a guess, but a hunch was something you just had, whether you wanted to or not. This didn’t feel very conscious. He just had a feeling he knew which way they should be going, and he didn’t see any reason not to follow it, as long as Nico understood he didn’t actually remember for sure where he was headed. He started off, guessing Nico would follow. It wasn’t as though Nico could lead the way, when it was Kelsier’s hunch pointing them in the right direction. And if he would prefer not to turn his back to Kelsier, it wasn’t like anyone could hold that against him, with how things were now. “I don’t know,” he admitted, offering a smile. “I’m eager to find out, though. I guess it was memorable, whatever it was. Or maybe this is just the way I went when I was here, last. But it’s not like we have a better route, so it can’t hurt, right?” Well…it could. But the point was there they had no way of telling that before it happened. He was fairly confident in his ability to survive by now, but keeping Nico alive too was a new challenge, and not one he wanted to risk failing. He would be trying to keep the recklessness to a minimum for a while as he figured out how to pull it off.
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