No. I didn't. [He doesn't have that human instinct to say something nice to smooth over a horrible situation. But he is learning to reassure people, at least.] But I'm alright now.
[Oh... his pajamas? He blinks down at them.] Gideon got them for me. And... tea would be good.
[Paul makes tea all the time. He thinks he's starting to like it.]
[Ah. Well, it is what it is, isn't it? Palamedes looks at him for a moment, then tugs the blanket cape further around his shoulders so he can stand up with it. Its little goth children embroidery makes him feel less rickety, as it should.]
Great thing for us to have in common. I'm glad you're alright now — let's go see about some tea.
[Off to the kitchen it is, then, to look upon its tea selection. He hasn't been in this house more than once before, but a kitchen is a kitchen, right? Right.]
I used to sneak into the kitchens at home all the time, but I guess this isn't really like that. Close enough.
[Tea though, yes. He's tinkering with stove and teapot now, glad to keep his hands moving.]
So what's new? You and I didn't exactly have a moment to get to know each other before — before. Tell me something fun.
Mmm. I think if you're a friend, you're allowed in there.
[Kaworu yawns, covering his mouth with a hand, and follows Palamedes idly into the kitchen, using said hand to rub the sleep from his eyes. He's not really the sort to question this. If Palamedes is a necromancer and he's here then he certainly must be a friend, right? It all lines up in his brain.
Once in the kitchen, he leans idly against the island, watching the man work his magic on the stove. Hopefully he's not as poor at this as Paul used to be.]
We had a party here. A day or so ago. For Paul's birthday.
Well, Gideon's my friend. [And Harrow and Paul, but Gideon's pj gift is topical. Point is: friends.]
How many arguments about obscure interest projects were there? [While the water heats up and pokes around for a plate and more of the biscuits God fed him earlier, offering it to Kaworu.] Or is that a Sixth thing?
[Then again, given the crowd in this house...]
Honestly, I don't know what happens at ordinary birthday parties.
[Easily enough! No need to think about it further if you ask Kaworu. Which Pal basically did so. He takes a biscuit and nibbles on it, faster than usual. He's started to feel oddly hungry lately.]
I'd never been to a party before. We played a game where you had to put a tooth on the sandworm mouth and... drank a lot of tequila.
[Yes, he's approved. God gave him a blanket, so it's got to be fine? He's not going to blow up the kitchen, in any case.]
Tequila, really? I didn't care for it — at that new year's party, I mean.
[He weighs nothing and has hollow bird bones, all liquor goes down poor, and Kaworu also appears to be 20 pounds and bird-boned... so bold, party people.]
[Then again with the lack of sun... they had probably slept long past morning but had imbibed enough to still feel the effects.
He cocks his head. They'd left the mural up because it was funny and also just because of pure teenage laziness and optimism about how objects can remind people of good times.]
The mural is in there. I'd have to find more teeth.
They're not real teeth, are they? I assumed paper, I guess. We can improvise.
[One never knows in this place - this house, given the population, if the teeth are real. Real teeth would be a waste of valuable necromantic components, see; he would have to object on those grounds only.
But first: the teapot whistles, and he scoots back to the stove to pour water into mugs.]
I made all the teeth beforehand. But if you won the game you got a shot of tequila. Or you could drink beforehand.
[So... highly comical. Though the the way the game was set up it was basically impossible to actually lose at it. You got a shot even if you missed too.]
...[There's a pause as Kaworu's fingers are about to curl around the mug's handle. It holds for a moment, as though frozen, before dropping back down to rest on the table.]
The sound of water. The feeling of something trying to hold onto me as I slipped upwards and back towards the surface.
I don't know if it was Mariana or the beast itself. But when I sought it out, I ended up opening my soul to it. And it was able to leak in and... take over.
[Palamedes probably doesn't know about this. He wasn't there and he was gone before anyone had a chance to tell him.
[This is Palamedes' first time hearing about this, and as such the look on his face is somewhere between shocked and horrified. Mariana-or-perhaps-the-beast took over? Then—
Well, he remembers what Kaworu told him about his soul relative to an ordinary human's, so he can extrapolate, but that's not - really the point. He puts his tea down and shuffles a step closer to Kaworu, to put a hand on his shoulder.]
You're sure you're alright now? [gentle, because that sounds a lot like "possibly a god soul-siphoned me" and that is serious shit?] Whatever was down there — it shouldn't have done that to you.
[It still happens, despite himself. That involuntary stiffness at unexpected touch before relaxing.
As for being alright... Kaworu doesn't know. He's not vomiting up sea water anymore but that's not the same as "alright", is it? The truth, the horrible truth, is that no one knows if he's actually alright or if what happened left more scars than horrible memories.
(He worries sometimes. About his dreams that are filled with nothing but the sound of rushing water and the crushing pressure of the deep.)
In the meantime, he takes the mug and holds it in his hands.]
It didn't know what else to do. It was lonely. It wanted to find solace in whatever it could.
[Hoo boy, Palamedes thinks, and looks briefly aside to give his own mug a look like maybe it can advise him on how best to handle another traumatized youth (tm). Okay.
(Also, is a terrible sea beast that genuinely ate him now a sympathetic figure? Is that the situation? Maybe if someone had told him to try talking to it first, damn...)]
Right, [he says, still gently, and also,] Someone's undoubtedly told you already, but what happened to you isn't your fault. I don't need to have seen it to know that much. Whatever it is you're feeling now—
[Hmm. How to. Word this concept.]
Let yourself feel it. But you won't have to feel it forever.
[It's probably a strange response. But it's the only one that a boy who is still learning that time and distance can heal wounds or at least scar them over. These feelings are something he's never contended with before.]
I've said those words to others and meant them honestly, but it didn't seem to make them believe it wasn't their fault. And now I see that sometimes it's easier for others to be kind to you than it is to be kind to yourself.
[Odd, maybe, but so much easier to handle than someone who might require Palamedes to start spitting out stupid platitudes at them. He raises an eyebrow - thinks about it, then nods.]
Well — no, you're right. It usually is. And don't get me started on the trials of proving you give a damn about someone.
[Even traumatized angel boys met one time on a beach. Ahem. Like, for example, for no reason whatsoever.]
There isn't a cure-all for... let's call it adversity. You change, and you figure out how to deal, and it takes a while.
[He glances around the room, taking in the remnants of the party that still haven't been cleaned up.
Then he turns back to Palamedes, watching him thoughtfully, thinking about he too was consumed by this beast but only Kaworu was able to connect into it's very soul. Of course, it would be hard for everyone else to understand why the beast was the way it was.]
It hasn't been that long. Not really. Still, I feel like I have changed since that day.
[The real variable is the realization, he thinks. One could take ten minutes or ten years to realize some significant change took place and funnel it back to its source — the interim is not the point.]
Look, I could be talking straight out of my ass right now— [from a mind extremely good at compartmentalizing baggage, about a thing he did not experience firsthand, ahem,] But try not to moralize your actions. Justification will take up all of your time; there's no trick for it. So— process. Have another party, anything.
[If Palamedes feels anything at all over the epithet 'Teacher,' not a flash of it shows on his face. He almost doesn't know what to feel about God, For Real gathering all these impressionable sad teenagers into his house, so he settles on wow, creative— and puts it solidly aside, to be unpacked later.]
It's not my party to throw, but I feel I have an obligation to point out that you can throw parties in other places.
[And that's not even commentary on anyone or any particular behaviors, that's just a fact.]
Regardless: that's good. You've all been good friends to each other, here.
[He's never had people he cared for. Or people who cared for him. People that just sit on the couch and listen to him play piano because they like it. The opportunity to just be with someone is so precious.
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[Oh... his pajamas? He blinks down at them.] Gideon got them for me. And... tea would be good.
[Paul makes tea all the time. He thinks he's starting to like it.]
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Great thing for us to have in common. I'm glad you're alright now — let's go see about some tea.
[Off to the kitchen it is, then, to look upon its tea selection. He hasn't been in this house more than once before, but a kitchen is a kitchen, right? Right.]
I used to sneak into the kitchens at home all the time, but I guess this isn't really like that. Close enough.
[Tea though, yes. He's tinkering with stove and teapot now, glad to keep his hands moving.]
So what's new? You and I didn't exactly have a moment to get to know each other before — before. Tell me something fun.
[Leaving "fun" up to interpretation, here.]
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[Kaworu yawns, covering his mouth with a hand, and follows Palamedes idly into the kitchen, using said hand to rub the sleep from his eyes. He's not really the sort to question this. If Palamedes is a necromancer and he's here then he certainly must be a friend, right? It all lines up in his brain.
Once in the kitchen, he leans idly against the island, watching the man work his magic on the stove. Hopefully he's not as poor at this as Paul used to be.]
We had a party here. A day or so ago. For Paul's birthday.
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How many arguments about obscure interest projects were there? [While the water heats up and pokes around for a plate and more of the biscuits God fed him earlier, offering it to Kaworu.] Or is that a Sixth thing?
[Then again, given the crowd in this house...]
Honestly, I don't know what happens at ordinary birthday parties.
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[Easily enough! No need to think about it further if you ask Kaworu. Which Pal basically did so. He takes a biscuit and nibbles on it, faster than usual. He's started to feel oddly hungry lately.]
I'd never been to a party before. We played a game where you had to put a tooth on the sandworm mouth and... drank a lot of tequila.
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Tequila, really? I didn't care for it — at that new year's party, I mean.
[He weighs nothing and has hollow bird bones, all liquor goes down poor, and Kaworu also appears to be 20 pounds and bird-boned... so bold, party people.]
Have you still got the worm teeth? Can I try?
[let him spin and pin]
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[Then again with the lack of sun... they had probably slept long past morning but had imbibed enough to still feel the effects.
He cocks his head. They'd left the mural up because it was funny and also just because of pure teenage laziness and optimism about how objects can remind people of good times.]
The mural is in there. I'd have to find more teeth.
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They're not real teeth, are they? I assumed paper, I guess. We can improvise.
[One never knows in this place - this house, given the population, if the teeth are real. Real teeth would be a waste of valuable necromantic components, see; he would have to object on those grounds only.
But first: the teapot whistles, and he scoots back to the stove to pour water into mugs.]
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[So yes, he definitely get where Pal is going there.]
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[And while Paper is Valuable, he's coming around to the idea of like. Arts and crafts, which is what he'll count paper teeth as for the time being.
After another moment he returns with fresh tea, holding a mug out to Kaworu. There's no sugar or milk in it. Enjoy.]
Was this before or after the tequila?
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[So... highly comical. Though the the way the game was set up it was basically impossible to actually lose at it. You got a shot even if you missed too.]
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Right, it makes sense. I think I could take off my glasses and achieve the same effect.
[ssssip. tea... hm....] Can I ask — do you remember anything about being under? Asleep again in the sea?
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The sound of water. The feeling of something trying to hold onto me as I slipped upwards and back towards the surface.
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But. Perhaps not.]
Holding onto you — to keep you down there?
[what the Fuck is in that ocean, if so]
You don't have to answer. When I ask something that's too much, just tell me to buzz off.
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[Palamedes probably doesn't know about this. He wasn't there and he was gone before anyone had a chance to tell him.
So Kaworu's voice is quiet, a little ashamed.]
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Well, he remembers what Kaworu told him about his soul relative to an ordinary human's, so he can extrapolate, but that's not - really the point. He puts his tea down and shuffles a step closer to Kaworu, to put a hand on his shoulder.]
You're sure you're alright now? [gentle, because that sounds a lot like "possibly a god soul-siphoned me" and that is serious shit?] Whatever was down there — it shouldn't have done that to you.
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As for being alright... Kaworu doesn't know. He's not vomiting up sea water anymore but that's not the same as "alright", is it? The truth, the horrible truth, is that no one knows if he's actually alright or if what happened left more scars than horrible memories.
(He worries sometimes. About his dreams that are filled with nothing but the sound of rushing water and the crushing pressure of the deep.)
In the meantime, he takes the mug and holds it in his hands.]
It didn't know what else to do. It was lonely. It wanted to find solace in whatever it could.
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(Also, is a terrible sea beast that genuinely ate him now a sympathetic figure? Is that the situation? Maybe if someone had told him to try talking to it first, damn...)]
Right, [he says, still gently, and also,] Someone's undoubtedly told you already, but what happened to you isn't your fault. I don't need to have seen it to know that much. Whatever it is you're feeling now—
[Hmm. How to. Word this concept.]
Let yourself feel it. But you won't have to feel it forever.
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[It's probably a strange response. But it's the only one that a boy who is still learning that time and distance can heal wounds or at least scar them over. These feelings are something he's never contended with before.]
I've said those words to others and meant them honestly, but it didn't seem to make them believe it wasn't their fault. And now I see that sometimes it's easier for others to be kind to you than it is to be kind to yourself.
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Well — no, you're right. It usually is. And don't get me started on the trials of proving you give a damn about someone.
[Even traumatized angel boys met one time on a beach. Ahem. Like, for example, for no reason whatsoever.]
There isn't a cure-all for... let's call it adversity. You change, and you figure out how to deal, and it takes a while.
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[He glances around the room, taking in the remnants of the party that still haven't been cleaned up.
Then he turns back to Palamedes, watching him thoughtfully, thinking about he too was consumed by this beast but only Kaworu was able to connect into it's very soul. Of course, it would be hard for everyone else to understand why the beast was the way it was.]
It hasn't been that long. Not really. Still, I feel like I have changed since that day.
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[The real variable is the realization, he thinks. One could take ten minutes or ten years to realize some significant change took place and funnel it back to its source — the interim is not the point.]
Look, I could be talking straight out of my ass right now— [from a mind extremely good at compartmentalizing baggage, about a thing he did not experience firsthand, ahem,] But try not to moralize your actions. Justification will take up all of your time; there's no trick for it. So— process. Have another party, anything.
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[So the hosts sort of got wasted and things were stolen and people threw up in places that they should not have thrown up in.
But, it was fun, and scenes and conversations from the last night play out in his head and bring a smile to his face.]
But I think... that's why I wanted to have one. To help process. And know that others were processing too.
[Not for him. Or maybe a bit for him. And a bit for everyone who was there.]
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It's not my party to throw, but I feel I have an obligation to point out that you can throw parties in other places.
[And that's not even commentary on anyone or any particular behaviors, that's just a fact.]
Regardless: that's good. You've all been good friends to each other, here.
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[He's never had people he cared for. Or people who cared for him. People that just sit on the couch and listen to him play piano because they like it. The opportunity to just be with someone is so precious.
Then he blinks.]
Oh. Can we have a party at your house?
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