deercountry | September & October Catch-All

[ Flynn blinks, leaning forward just enough to look at this absurdly kind and generous person. ]

...is the haircut a necessary part of this? Because I rather like my hair.

[Vyng hasn't bothered hiding his pointed ears, nor the gills on his neck. Trench has managed to pull in a rather motley squid squad, and — for once — he's hardly the weirdest-looking person in town. Still, he's used to his fair share of stares. Vyng subtly mirrors the other man's body language by leading forward a bit himself.]

No, not quite. This is a bartender's place. Big difference, pal.

["Probably about as clean though..." he mutters under his breath.]

[ So the fact that it's—

Oh. Oh, this man cried at... a barber shop? While having his hair cut.

It sounds a bit like Flynn's nightmare, but then again, he's spent his whole life trying to tamp down on his feelings, as much as it hasn't actually worked. He is, in the end, and open book, and that small prompting combined with the heavy loneliness just hanging in the air...

Flynn's eyes flick away, reluctant, and he wilts a bit. ]

I'm... not sure if you're aware of the events of last month? I mean, I'm Flynn. I died. First, I think? I suppose I can't stop thinking about it.

The whole blood-match thing? [Dryly:] Yeah, I may have heard about that.

[His tone gets softer.]

Didn't know about the death thing, though. That's rough.

[If Flynn's demise was announced over the network, there's a high chance Vyng never saw it. He typically relies on Tuck to point him toward anything of interest. But his partner hasn't been in a good emotional state...

Which probably ought to raise the question of why Vyng is here, instead of with his best friend. And yet he can't bring himself to walk away and leave this man alone. Not when he's clearly a danger to himself.]

What can't you stop thinking about? The moment it happened? Or existential, "what's it all for anyway" thoughts?

[ Flynn doesn't exactly know how to answer that question when the answer is all of it, but, well. ]

I—well, honestly? How easily it could happen again. That it happened at all. That death is so impermanent here, and that it's still so senseless. How... weak I feel, that I was so easy to kill.

[ The words come tumbling out, and Flynn glances away, flushing and a bit tight-throated in a way he wouldn't normally be. He feels fragile, like he might crack if touched too swiftly. It's an awful feeling. ]

What is to stop the same thing happening again? Why does the person who killed me seem to feel no remorse? Why has he chosen to ask me to answer that question?

You're not responsible for answering anything that guy asks you.

[A guy Vyng doesn't know at all, probably, but...if it's true he's acting callous or cold about this man's death, there could be a host of reasons behind it. Maybe it's his way of coping. He might be refusing to accept responsibility for whatever crimes he committed while under the influence of the Bloodsport because people weren't in full control of their emotions back then. Or maybe he's just a raging asshole who needs to be knocked down a peg or two. But regardless:]

You're not responsible for his feelings, either.

[That he feels weak hits pretty close to home, though. Vyng has been teetering on the fragile side himself, lately. It's something he's chosen not to examine too deeply...because, inevitably, his mind wanders back to the Summoning Stones. And he's just not in a good place to unpack those feelings and memories right now.

Focusing on the person in front of him is much better. With a low, thoughtful hum, Vyng laces his fingers together on top of the wooden table.]

If you keep coming back — and I totally get that's a big 'if' — what's the worst thing that would happen? If you were, uh, out of commission for awhile, I mean.

I...

If I were to repeatedly die, you mean?

[ A horrifying possibility that Flynn has considered entirely too much, late at night. He presses his lips together, curling his own fingers into the meat of the palm and pressing there, too, reminding himself that he is here and not in the abyss of death. ]

Apparently, in the dream, there were stacking consequences to dying. It's possible that each time I died would be worse than the last, and that it would take me longer to remember myself. Perhaps I wouldn't remember myself at all. But more than that, it really would mean that all my training would be for nothing, and that I couldn't actually protect Yuri, or anyone, and then what good is the promise we made? If I can't actually— if I'm that weak—what good am I as a knight?

What does being a knight mean to you in this place?

[It's an honest question. They all hail from different worlds across time and space, but Trench operates under its own rules. And, in many cases, Sleepers are being asked to completely reinvent themselves. For some people, like Oscar, it's liberating. But for others, "starting over" is too daunting to even think about. Vyng can't help but wonder where this guy falls on that spectrum.]

How're you feeling, by the way? Since, uhhh...coming back. Any sniffles? Sore throat? Fever?

[Vyng doesn't even wait for a response; He's already reaching across the table to feel the other man's forehead with a calloused, scarred hand.]

I don't know. I should.

[ The words are small and soft, maybe the truest thing Flynn has said thus far, although he's pulled from his own confusion by that hand, looks back up aga moment later with his eyes wide. Flynn is warm under Vyng's hand, but only as far as most people are; he is a warmblood, and has no fever. He also sits perfectly still and just sort of lets himself be touched, maybe even leans into it. ]

Ah—no, I'm really fine. No symptoms at all, which I'm given to understand is... different than the dream. Hopefully my experience is not a singular one.

Oh yeah. You'd be feeling like hot garbage right now, otherwise.

[That's encouraging, at least. Vyng draws his hand back...though not before giving Flynn a gentle pat on the cheek.]

Okay. [He settles back in his chair.] What did being a knight in your original world mean, then?

[Making sure, of course, to avoid the word "home". It's mainly for Vyng's own benefit, though, as he constantly tries to reframe Trench as everybody's new home. Both in word and deed.]

[ It's a small consideration, that shift in wording, but Flynn appreciates it: this is home now, and he hasn't quite come to terms with that. Home has been a shifting thing for him anyway. Why not a strange city clinging to the side of a vast, unknowable ocean in a new and dangerous world?

Why not, indeed.

At least this is an easy question, made clear by how quickly and firmly Flynn answers. ]

A knight protects the people. It is why we exist, although there are a great many who don't feel that way. Many become knights because it's what their parents expect of them, or because they'd like to feel powerful, or because they think it's cool. I suppose it could mean the same thing here, but there doesn't seem to be any kind of... structure for that. Calling myself a knight means something only to me.

[High-minded ideals for a man who's clearly way too hard on himself. Trench seems to have an abundance of the type. But Vyng can appreciate somebody who knows what they're about. Besides, protecting people is a noble cause — even if a success rate of anything less than 100% probably won't be enough in Flynn's eyes, which undoubtedly brings its own problems.]

Makes sense. [He rests his chin in one hand, the other idly tracing along the lines in the table.] So, would you say calling yourself a knight here mostly means keeping other folks safe from the beasts? Or is that a nicer way of saying you want to enforce your own ideas of justice onto the town?

[The question is spoken pretty matter-of-fact. Vyng has had his fair share of run-ins with cops, and he could easily see this going either way.]

A very fair question.

[ And one Flynn appreciates, really. It's good to know that there are others here thinking about the welfare of the people of the city: Vyng must be, to his mind, or he wouldn't be asking, making sure. ]

Honestly, I'm not even certain I know what justice means anymore. I thought I did. I had a very strong idea, once, but... I came to realize, through many mistakes and nearly losing my best friend, that I was just searching for a line to draw because the knights as they were didn't actually have one and weren't living up to their promised ideals. Even the line that I drew was wrong. Justice is a complicated thing. It would be wrong to impose the ideals from an entirely different world onto this one.

Which... doesn't mean I appreciate the lack of justice in my own death, but there is startlingly little I can do about any of that.

Everyone in this town needs each other in order to survive. A dick is bound to get dicked over, sooner or later. Some people call it karma. But this guy sounds like a piece of shit, and I'd be surprised if he had many friends watching his back. This'll catch up with him, one way or another.

[Quietly, he adds:]

I know that isn't very satisfying, though.

[Righteous anger and indignation can be a hell of a drug. Vyng's own thirst for revenge once burned and smoldered like coals beneath the earth, the way a careless mine-shaft fire might relentlessly spread for decades. He likes to believe he's let that part of himself go. But if he were Flynn's close friend or family member, he'd be pissed.

Flynn has clearly done some soul-searching on his own. That's good, at least. "Justice" means something different, to different people. But the man's grievances are totally fair.]

Who did it?

[It might be on the network already. But Vyng isn't the best at keeping track of social media, even (important) Sleeper-specific spaces.]

[ What does it mean about Flynn that this understanding momentarily undoes him?

He wasn't expecting understanding. He was, perhaps, expecting reproach for being emotional about this at all: a reminder to buck up, that knights don't have the luxury of wallowing or crying about the things that happen to them. That Flynn is never going to achieve his goals if he gets caught up in the tangled web of his own feelings. To expect that, and instead be offered all of this?

Flynn isn't sure what to do with it. He stares at Vyng for a long moment, his heart sort of in his throat. ]

...it's alright. I learned a long time ago that satisfaction isn't really the goal of any meaningful justice. Momentary satisfaction is meaningless in the long term. The only way to really change things is to change the systems that create injustice.

His name is Anakin Skywalker.

[The name sounds vaguely familiar. If he's heard it, it was only in passing. "Skywalker", at least, tends to stick because it sounds so similar to "Spiritwalker". Still, that's not who this is about. So Vyng quietly sets that information aside and focuses on the person in front of him.

Maybe they've wandered into the philosophical weeds a bit. Abstract concepts like justice systems and knighthood — not terribly applicable in a town that eschews any real hierarchy in favor of social anarchy — aren't doing much to help this man now. But they do give Vyng a better idea of Flynn's character, and why his short-lived death is hitting him so hard right now.]

You sound like somebody who finds purpose in reform. But your true passion is fighting for people who can't fight for themselves.

Is this something you feel like you need to do alone?

[ The question hits like the butt of a sword, knocks the breath from Flynn for a moment. He makes a small, sharp sound, glancing away. ]

No.

I did, once, but—everyone can work on everyone's problems together.

[ Childish words, said in the tone of a mantra oft-repeated. They aren't his own, but he's said them to himself a thousand times since Patty scolded him on a rampart in Aurnion, trying to convince himself of their truth. He can't tell Yuri off for trying to handle things alone if he's trying to do the same thing, after all, and the worst part of the last few months before waking up here was his solitude. ]

I came to realize that I can't do it alone. When you try to do that, you end up like Commandant Alexei, walking a lonely path into ruin. I need help. I need people who believe what I do, as strongly as I do, or at the very least who will listen. Someone [ Yuri, he doesn't say ] needs to be there to make sure I haven't strayed from the path I set for myself. To... remind me what really matters, and why I'm fighting.

Perhaps I should be able to do those things alone, but I'm simply not that strong. I don't know if anyone is.

[ Finally, he looks up at Vyng and makes himself offer Vyng a small smile. ]

Are you about to tell me it's foolish to try and handle anything of that scale alone?

Why would I? You've already done it for me.

[Vyng gets the feeling they aren't traversing new territory for Flynn — this is more like old scars splitting open, or having a wight breathing down your neck while you replay every stupid thing you did in middle school. Normal insecurities, but amped up to eleven because he's talking to a man who actually has standards and expectations for himself.

It's a sure-fire way to fail at something. Which isn't necessarily bad. Failure is what helps you get good. Failure is the kick in the ass you need to get your shit together and stop drinking so much. Sometimes you make a few (or a lot of) messes, fuck up a couple of towns, lose your hand a time or two. Who doesn't? But a fear of failure guarantees a failed Winter Walk for any druid who's too attached to the idea of surviving. You just end up hoofing it alone out in the wilds, and then your homecoming turns into a home-going because you can't deal with the disappointed faces of your peers.

Propping his chin in one hand, Vyng calmly meets Flynn's gaze.]

For what it's worth, I can't remember the last time I did anything by myself. Which...might not be worth much, actually, because my memory is shit.

[Those last words are tinged with laughter. Once he's finished chuckling, he continues:]

But still. Eating, training, pissing. Doesn't matter! I never go solo. Ever.

[ The last bit startles a quiet laugh out of Flynn. Perhaps it's a hyperbole, perhaps it's truly what Vyng does, but either way--it's enough to break Flynn from his self-recriminating mood, if only for a moment. ]

To be honest, I've never really enjoyed eating alone. I can't speak for the rest.

[Vyng's smile broadens at that laugh. He knows it doesn't fix things, but hopefully it can help Flynn get through the day. Warmly, he responds:]

Look. Alls I'm saying is, there's no shame in relying on your friends.

...no. Of course there isn't, and of course in my head that makes perfect sense. It's... only when it comes down to action that it becomes difficult.

[ Flynn hesitates, wiping again at his eyes. He does feel better—less weighted down, less like he's about to head out into a storm with no preparation—even if the fear isn't entirely gone. ]

In truth, I don't like doing anything alone.

That's fair. It's easy to worry you're a burden on your friends. But I'm sure your friends are plenty proud of the knight that you've become.

[In the back of his mind, Vyng knows somebody might say those words about himself and his relationship with shapeshifting. But Flynn seems like a genuinely noble person. He doesn't need to be beating himself up like this.]

[ Is Yuri proud of him?

Flynn should know, most likely, but he isn't actually sure what Yuri thinks about what he's done: he seemed suspicious of Flynn's progress, and mostly annoyed at the way he'd skyrocketed through the ranks. Flynn is glad, of course, for Yuri being there to keep his feet on the ground and his heart on the right path, but.

Is he proud?

Flynn swallows. ]

...I am trying to make sure that is true, at any rate. Is this a habit of yours? Talking strangers off emotional ledges? You're very good at it.

[That pause isn't lost on Vyng. Did his words actually help? Or did they stir up more doubt instead? He's not sure, but...at least Flynn seems to be in a more stable place. Upon hearing that compliment, though, Vyng raises a skeptical eyebrow. ]

Am I? [A pause] Well, I've had some practice over the years, I guess...

[But that's inevitable, for somebody as long-lived as himself. You don't have to travel far to find lonely souls down on their luck. In a world where everyone is connected, it's only natural to offer some aid and empathy to anyone who needs it.]

You are. I don't think it's an easy thing. I'm certainly no good at it. Half the things I say come out... less charitable than I intended them.

[ But Vyng isn't like that, so far. Flynn wonders if it's a teachable skill. Certainly he'd be a better leader if he could help like this, especially someone he didn't even know. ]

September & October Catch-All

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