deercountry | Mostly Closed Catch-all for November

[One of Shiro's shoulders twitches in a shrug, also looking down to the jar. He's never noticed it running low before, in all the time he's had the thing... therefore:]

I don't think it does. I've never seen it run low before.

[Oh, Lance.]

[You didn't just go there. Because those melancholy feelings ease into vapor in a moment. His expression creases - not in the usual concerned way. In a much, much different way.]

Well hey, now that you mention it - [He actually reaches over, pushing his shirtsleeve up. Acting for all the world like he's going to freaking detach his arm.]

[Well, in that case, he'll just go ahead and take a spoonful because he is definitely in pain, even with the pain killers coursing through his system. He's been cutting back to make the supply he has last longer and it's rough.

He pauses with the spoon still in his mouth as he sucks honey off it as Shiro goes to take off his hand. The only appropriate response is to groan and hang his head. In fact he lets it keep hanging until it hits the table and the spoon is pulled from his mouth so he can talk into the surface of it.]

You're the worst.

Edited 2022-01-14 21:46 (UTC)

[It's Lance's reaction that does it. Lance's groan and the dull thunk of his head against the counter. That completely undoes Shiro.]

[He starts laughing.]

[It's not the usual dry, amused chuckle, either. It's genuine, overcome laughter that has him slowly start to double-up like a cooked shrimp right where he stands. He lets his sleeve fall back down to his wrist, wrapping his arms around himself while he just plain loses his mind laughing.]

[There may or may not be tears in his eyes.]

Lance... ah - sorry - [Wheezing] Couldn't help it.

[Well, that's nice to hear at least, especially after such a harrowing couple of weeks. Lance lifts his head and then props his cheek on his palm and looks at Shiro with a raised eyebrow and the slightest of smiles.]

Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.

[Then he lowers his hand and glances down at both hands on the table. It would be nice if they really could laugh it up forever, just freeze that momentary feeling he had of lightness in his chest in time. He's content to just sit for a minute and let the mood mellow naturally. And then, the weight is back in full and he's not sure what else to say right away.]

Sorry... Sorry.

[He's slowing down on the laughter, but has to grab a towel to wipe his eyes with. Maybe it was too much? His breathing steadies, and in the end, he's propped up on his elbows. The smile sticks around a bit longer.]

[Long enough to gather up his coffee mug and study it.]

You okay?

[It's a loaded question, and he knows it. He doesn't really think Lance is going to answer, not completely. But maybe a nudge would help.]

[Well, he covered this with Bolin when he woke up, it shouldn't be so hard to answer Shiro, right? But truth is, with Bolin, it had been kind of a delayed shock, a trauma that got triggered at the most oddly unrelated thing. And then he'd lost his grip and it all came crashing in and Bolin just happened to be there.

It was probably a good thing he was there, but still… Lance can't say he would have ever chosen to open up like that if asked. However, this isn't like other times where he's been able to just keep it all in because nobody knows what's happened to him. Now, everyone knows one of the worst things that's happened to him, and… that's just the problem isn't it? It's what's got his gut roiling in knots almost about as badly as what actually happened. Funny how that works.

He lets out a humorless huff of a laugh and looks down at the table, scratching at his neck behind his jaw. His voice is tight and pitched low with a slight tremor.]

…After the last time you saw me, I'm pretty sure you've got a free pass to call me a liar if I ever say yes to that again.

[He reaches over. It's an automatic reaction. To want to comfort someone. To want to support them. In any way possible, even if he didn't truly know how just yet. Physical contact, if nothing else. To try and ground them. Try and let them know he was here.]

[even if you're not enough]

You know I won't do that.

[For such a big guy, Shiro's pretty soft spoken when he wants to be. Like now. There's no one in the kitchen, but damn if he doesn't make his voice pitched softer, more careful. Like that's going to help. It's a little world itself, the kitchen table. No one else will hear. Nothing will go beyond this space.]

If you can't talk about it yet... I understand. [So very well.] But I'm here. I'll be here. I don't know what I can do, but I'll try.

[Lance lets out a shuddered breath, shallow and rattled because of his injuries and nods. He does know Shiro wouldn't do that and he doesn't pull away from the contact, appreciates that it's on a neutral spot, and also it's Shiro. He's one of the few people who can touch him these days without it bothering him in the slightest.

His fingers fiddle with the sleeve of his jacket as he tensely sits and thinks. There's so much to talk about really, is he ready to talk about what Reaper did to him? No, probably never. Is he ready to talk about killing the man and the fact that it was broadcast and made him face things he'd never faced before? Maybe a little. That's the thing that's got him more twisted up right now, weirdly.]

When Bolin was here, I... I figured some stuff out. [Shiro is the only person he knows that's close to him who has been through similar things. Just because he had a breakdown with Bolin doesn't mean he feels like it all makes sense or is normal. He's confused, lost, having a crisis of self.] Is it crazy that I'm more scared and messed up by everyone seeing me… lose it like that and everyone knowing all that stuff that happened to me, than... what actually happened to me?

[Whoof. That's a million dollar question right there. He exhales, slowly, keeping his hand steadily where it is. Actively doing his best to project a more comforting air while he sorts through how to answer. But - he can't just sit here in silence, either. That won't help.]

I hear you. [Boy does he ever. It's not quite stalling. It's talking aloud to get the right words in place.]

Lance... why do you think I try like I do to keep things quiet? Keep things behind closed doors? [They both know what things Shiro's talking about. People have seen him crack, for sure. Lance likely among them - which probably says a lot to how often it's happened, that he can't pinpoint exactly who and when.] No one wants people to see them break down.

It's - it's a personal thing, I think. In a weird way. Your barriers are down, you're open. It's terrifying.

So no, I don't think it's crazy.

[Lance nods slow, taking that in. Just hearing that Shiro understands, and also feeling it through his empathic ability helps a bit. The way Shiro talks about it isn't untrue for himself, though he's come to realize it's more, now that he's faced with it being an actual reality. He's silent for another moment and then lets out a breath, gloved hands curling a bit as he tries to stop them from shaking.]

It also… made it more real, I guess. It used to be something that just lived in my memory. And his… [A shuddered breath.] I wanted to forget. But I couldn't, not totally… I think because I've… always felt like it was my fault. And now everyone knows. It lives in all your heads too, and I'm scared… I'm afraid that's all anyone's gonna see now. Th-that…

[That it's all he is, that he's lost too many pieces of himself and his grip on himself keeps slipping and he doesn't know who he is anymore, and-

His voice shakes and fails him and he's started to glow, but it's not dangerous for Shiro to keep touching him right now. Even as he's opening up, he's afraid. He's making himself because he feels like he has to, and also… because he's afraid of what Shiro sees now. Deep down, that's what's driving him and normally he'd put on a mask of being okay. But he knows he can't do that now, not after everything got put out there like that. His options are few.]

That now all anyone sees is the thing they made.

[Shiro's voice comes out as quietly as possible, while still being audible. The mental image of himself - of waking up looking like a different person, the memories not there to make the pieces fit. From someone he knew to some stranger, the one everyone literally saw now. Heck, he's not even sure anyone would recognize him without the chunks ripped away.]

[Maybe Lance can see that, too, but, Shiro's trying - he's really, deeply trying to keep as much of it shoved back as possible. If only to keep from overloading the poor guy.]

... you don't know yourself like you used to. Everything's... different. The guy who used to be in the mirror feels like he's never coming back.

[Honestly, he'd probably have had more of a breakdown if it hadn't been for the circumstances. How there were a bunch of teens on some kind of crazy alien signal quest - who needed someone slightly more adult, if he hadn't basically been on the run from his old life and...]

[Well he hasn't really talked about this to anyone - except one. But Lance sounds like he needs it. Needs to know he's not alone here. Not with this.]

I don't know how to stop someone from blaming themselves. It's not something... I've ever learned how to do.

... But do know, I still see the guy who flew an alien spacecraft out of trouble on his first try. I see one heck of a teammate. I see... someone who's hurting, but still has enough of himself left to give me a hard time about my coffee, like he always would.

[Lance brows draw together in a bit of confusion about what Shiro means, but it sounds like he's saying it more to himself. Something that resonates with him somehow in some way related to this, so Lance doesn't comment on it. The rest does hit him where he lives, though and he goes pretty still and tense as he tries to manage to gut punch of emotions.

The first time he looked in the mirror and had a physical mark he could never hide with clothes was after he revived from being killed by Reaper. It could be said that a small part of why that event has not stopped haunting him (other than the fact that Reaper would not leave him be), is that he saw a reminder of it every time he looked in the mirror in that scar over his left brow and eye. But even before that he was seeing the wear and tear in smaller ways and slowly not really recognizing the face looking back at him.

Finally, he nods shakily in agreement of that assessment of how it feels. Then he starts to tremble where he still sits, tense and still, trying very hard not to crumble as Shiro reassures him about what he sees. It's both nice and difficult to hear all at once. Finally, he lets out a long shuddered breath and the glow that was climbing up his neck slows.]

I still try to be all those things, but lately… it feels like I'm going through the motions. Faking it until… maybe I can be me again. I dunno who I am anymore, if I'm a… a victim. [It's visibly very hard for him to say that word in relation to himself.] Or a murderer. Or…

[He raises a shaking, gently glowing hand up to his eyes and presses to try and ground himself.] Ryan and Kyle said it doesn't matter what he did to me, that- that I was in the wrong. And then Rei said it's what I had to do, and… I'm so confused and for some reason I'm really angry too, because… I just…

[He lets his hand fall and ball into a fist, expression as torn in so many directions as he feels. It's the kind of turning point where he is slowly starting to realize his truth and that comes with a lot of conflicted pain and rage that is so much he can't even begin to explain where it comes from.]

Once they saw I was at the arena they figured it was bloodsport, but… I don't think it was just the arena, Shiro. I think I would've done that all on my own eventually… and I dunno what that says about who I am now either.

It's okay. I've got you.

[His hand stays steady, the reassurances stay firm. He's been very careful to keep his touch somewhere covered. Somewhere that won't risk accidental transfer of any feeling. Or memories. He's here for comfort, for support, not to force anything over the line, so to speak.]

[He stays quiet for a while, listening, even while the words he hears twists him all up inside. Stabs at him. He forces himself to stay calm. Steady. That's what Lance needs right now. He glances to one side, and grabs... of all things... pot-holders. It looks ridiculous, but hey, this way he can cup both his hands around his teammate's. Try to apply pressure counter to the way he sees the tension in Lance's muscles.]

I... think that it's all right to not feel like that's what you are. And I mean that it's normal. It's not where we want to be, where we want you to be, but - after all of that, I'd be shocked if you did. I still see it in you, and I think I always will. Like... how you all tell me the same thing.

[That he's a good man, that he's more than what happened. That the people who'd known him Before everything could still see it. Could still bring it out.]

I also don't think he would have hesitated to do the same to you, again. I don't blame you for it. [There are very few people in this place he can't stand. Reaper and Maul both are on that short list.] You're allowed to be angry, you're allowed to be hurt.

[Shiro's fairly sure he'd been told the same damn things before. Funny, how easy they are to tell to someone else, to mean them to someone else.]

... Lance, would you blame me, would you think I was wrong, for going after the one who did this? [His right hand slips from the mitt, the metal cold and gleaming in the kitchen light. He knows the answer is going to be "no", but there's a point here he wants to make.]

And honestly... I still want to. Like I wanted to take the fight to Superior in Deerington. What does that say to you about me?

[Again, there's a point. Just go with him on this.]

[Lance's brows pull together in slight confusion when Shiro goes for the mitts before touching him. Wait… does he know? He hasn't told anyone. Well, it's something to touch upon later maybe because everything else passing between them has his focus much more immediately.

His shoulders rise a bit as Shiro talks, his gaze still down cast. And he wishes that it were so easy as being told that he's allowed to feel how he feels. It's one thing to hear it, to know it even… another thing to live by it, to make it part of his core belief about himself and what he deserves. It helps to hear that Shiro still sees him through it all, even if in many ways he struggles to believe it deep down, he wants to.

But when Shiro mentions Reaper not hesitating to hurt him again, he significantly tenses and goes still. Largely because the mere idea of that is harrowing, triggering. But also… Lance isn't so sure what to think about Reaper anymore these days. Something he's not sure he can admit to Shiro. At least not this second, and especially not when he is so confused, conflicted and barely understands himself.

Then Shiro poses that question and admits he still wants to go after him and Lance doesn't instantly shake his head, but not because he's hesitating, he just needs to process the gravity of what's being said. A pause after that head shake, and he tries to summon words after swallowing, and he breathes in a shallow and wet breath due to his injuries and lets it out in a huff.]

I wouldn't blame you… part of me was afraid you would. You and- and Keith especially. [This is the first time he's said Keith's name since after he left almost a year ago and Lance told Shiro their relationship was a mistake. His voice is a quiet croak of barely contained feeling.] And I… didn't want him to hurt you.

[So he never told them. That's not the main reason why, of course. There are so many complex reasons he kept it to himself, most significantly: the heavy shame, the fear, the blame of himself. But there was a part of him that feared telling would put them in that kind of danger.]

I think… anyone would want to… but wanting to isn't the same as doing it. [His head lifts, revealing his confused expression even though he doesn't meet Shiro's eyes. He can tell Shiro is going somewhere with this here, but he's not seeing it yet, trying to go with him on it, but not sure how.]

[As far as he knows, that's how it goes with all Palebloods. On the other hand, maybe he doesn't know enough to make a decent sample size. Either way - safe side, oven mits. More important conversations.]

You wouldn't blame me. [He echoes Lance there, gently, softening his voice even further. But for all the quiet of his tone, there's not a single hint of doubt. Nothing. He is utterly, completely sincere. Lance wouldn't blame him for taking action against someone who'd hurt him. Or who'd hurt his family.] Not for going after Reaper, Mother Superior, or... if the Witch showed up here.

[His eyes lift, slowly, to meet Lance's. All that sincerity plain to see.]

And, Lance, I tried. I tried to take Superior down every chance I had. I tried to kill her.

[If they're both admitting big things to each other here - he may as well tell him about the attempts. Only Peter had ever been there during them. Well, Peter and Cynthia. He hadn't been successful, but not for a lack of attempts. None of them had any real hope of defeating a Pthumerian, and definitely not in Deerington. His hand tightens, curling fingers through the glove around Lance's.]

So how... could I ever blame you for pulling it off? How could I think any less of you?

[He blames Reaper. He blames Maul. The people who'd driven someone he cares about to this. For no good reason except they could. Or they thought it was teaching him a lesson, or some kind of high and mighty lie like that. What in the hell has this taught his teammate? His friend? Other than to hate himself.]

[Pthumerians help them if he met them alone.]

[Lance listens as Shiro goes through telling him what he's done in retaliation to Superior, how he could never blame him. His face goes through a range of different pained and tight expressions. The voices in his head laugh because Mother Superior isn't even human, and isn't killing another human different from trying to kill a Pthumerian.

But at the same time, he also knows Shiro spaced Sendak all those years ago… what is that if not killing him? Sure, he didn't die, but… he knows Shiro has done things out of trauma and desperation and anger to fear and sheer stubborn force of will and confidence in the things he believes. And he knows that he's being honest and that he could never blame him for any of it. In fact, he admires him for it.

It's so hard to apply that to himself to start viewing himself and what he did in the same way. But in the very least there's a weight lifted in knowing, for certain that Shiro at least in his own way understands some part of it and doesn't think less of him or blame him. He lets out a shuddered breath, the tear that starts to escape is instantly evaporated by the gentle glow of his powers that had started to build.

He nods shakily in acknowledgement. There's still so much he doesn't feel okay with, doesn't understand or feel sure of in the bigger picture. But in the one question of if Shiro personally blames him… he's more clear. It helps a little.] Thanks, Shiro.

[He doesn't know what else to say, there's less of a weight on him but he still feels adrift, like there's a hole that's been carved out of him and… he has no idea how to fix it. What to ask for. Maybe the rest of it is something he needs to figure out alone.]

Any time, okay?

[He means it. Wholeheartedly. Like he's meant everything else in this conversation. Honestly, Shiro has no idea how much this is actually helping. If it's helping at all. All he can really do is offer up experiences, offer an ear. He wants to be able to take the trauma away completely, even if he knows, logically, that just isn't possible.]

[Unless, here, maybe it is.]

[Something to file away for later, maybe. In the meantime, all he can do is this. Repeat the support. Repeat the understanding, the lack of blame. He squeezes the hand he's still holding in the oven mitt. It's okay - he's not going anywhere.]

I know it's hard - and I know that's an understatement, believe me. But I'm here for you, okay? I'll do whatever I can.

[Lance swallows and doesn't know what else to do but nod in a shaky understanding and gratitude. He feels unsteady and like he needs to go out into the forest or take a boat out onto the ocean and just let loose. But he doesn't, his experience with letting loose on his emotions has never ended well for him.

He needs something to focus on, something not the gnawing gaping hole he feels inside of his chest. His eyes drift down to the oven mitts on Shiro's hands as he grips through them. That's a good subject shift, yeah…]

What's… with the oven mitts?

[He'll wait. He'll wait as long as it takes, honestly. If Lance is done talking, for now, that's okay. There's a lot of pain here, more than he thinks he can successfully coax out in just one talk. Important thing is, he knows some of it now. He can try and help.]

[He has to try and help.]

Hm? [Shiro pauses, and looks down too. Then... laughs. It's quiet, a little self-conscious. A little forced.] Oh uh. I figured it'd help the whole paleblood thing.

Can't really transfer feelings through an oven mitt, right?

[Yeah, that's right. He thinks it applies to all palebloods. Good job, Shiro.]

[He blinks because what? He is positive he never said anything to anyone about that. Okay, he's been through this before with his mom and usually he just keeps playing dumb and pussyfooting around until he gets a clear idea of what is… happening.]

Uh, what're you talking about?

[Shiro looks as dumbfounded as humanly possible. Like Lance said he was secretly Hunk in a very convincing disguise. He looks down at the mitts again.]

I... thought it was a paleblood thing. Touch people, get their emotions? Was I wrong?

[Should he let go altogether?]

Uh, yep. Totally wrong.

[Wrong that it's a paleblood thing, at least. It's definitely a him thing, but he's not going to let on to that. At least not the pain-taking part of it.]

Some palebloods only read minds, some make illusions or see the future, buuuut touching isn't a standard part of it for everyone at all. Why the heck did you think that?

Crud.

[That's right. Not even a "crap". But he does press a hand to his forehead. Oven mitt and all. When he speaks up again, it's a bit muffled by all the fabric until he drops it.]

I'm sorry. I... thought I was making it easier on you. [He sighs.] I guess I don't know as many of you as I thought? There's you. Ryan...

Wu? I think? I haven't really shaken hands with him or anything since we woke up here, though. [He's had more physical contact with Mako, to be honest.]

[Lance snorts and awkwardly waves off the apology.]

Dude, don't worry about it. It's kinda funny, actually. [He smiles slightly.] I think Wu can make people feel super comforted when he hugs them or something. As for me? I feel like basic emotions just being near people. And, you're actually not that far off. Reeeemember when I first got my star powers and I couldn't touch anyone with bare skin because it was dangerous?

It's kinda like that. So I've got the gloves thing covered just like back then, no oven mitts required. And it's not that big of a deal anyway, I touch you with a bare hand, I feel all your feelings and I can help you feel better, big whoop.

Edited 2022-04-02 19:46 (UTC)

Well. If it's one thing I can do, it's humor.

[No, he can't. It's his terrible coping mechanism, and he likes bad puns. Still - he hadn't overstepped, and that's a relief]

[He will make a mental note to ask Will about it, though.]

I... really just didn't want to make things worse for you. Figured it was better to be overly cautious than not. [Seriously, he'd feel horrendous if he ended up making things worse here. More than that. He's already swimming in guilt where Lance is concerned - it'd just be the icing on the Terrible Cake.] But - I'll keep that in mind. In case I need your help down the line.

Edited 2022-04-03 07:02 (UTC)

Mostly Closed Catch-all for November

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