ioduanlogs | Oh today I'm just a drop of water

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Oh today I'm just a drop of water | April Catch-all

Characters: Pepper Potts, Devin Parker, and you!
Date: Throughout April
Location: Around Aifaran
Situation: Pepper is enjoying shopping and some gourmet meals, and Devin is decidedly not enjoying a sudden flood of attention. Neither is especially bothered by the rain.
Warnings/Rating: None yet, will add as needed

A. [Pepper] Arts 5 | Throughout April | Open

Pepper will basically never say no to free food, especially food that is gourmet. Sure, there are some things that she's not all that familiar with as far as ingredients, but she's been assured that nothing being served can kill her (probably). With her skills in persuasion, she's also managed to let the cook bring a friend along each day, so long as they know they will be expected to give honest and helpful critiques. And there's no rule it can't be a different friend each day - this actually seems to delight the chef, who is getting a wide variety of testers without having to do the work of recruitment. Come join her for lunch!

B. [Pepper] Dreaming Bridge | Bakura

It has not escaped Pepper's notice that Bakura is a bit… distant? She's not quite sure that's the right way to describe it, but something is on his mind. Her insatiable curiosity is there, as always. Over the past two years of living in this world, however, she's learned it was sometimes better to be gentle and subtle about inquiries than acting like a battering ram. They'll be moving out of the Bridge soon, which is an event to look forward to in a number of respects, not the least of which is privacy.

"If you're not careful, I'm going to make all the decor decisions," she teased, waving her pencil at him. Her notetaking with Tony the previous month had only expanded beyond apartment features to budgeting for furniture and the like. The departure of the Bresilykians was an opportunity Pepper intended to take advantage of, too.

C. [Pepper] Renewal Festival | April 1-15 | Open

Anyone who knows Pepper knows that she loves shopping. The rain doesn't bother her too much; it isn't the torrential downpours New York got yearly, and the temperature isn't too bad most of the time. The festival reminds her of Keeliai, in some respects, and while she doesn't go diving in the vernal pools she does go shopping. Mostly window shopping, because budgeting is a thing that needs to happen, but the brightly colored rain gear and artistically decorated umbrellas are lovely to look at. She's got a decent coat to deal with the weather, but Pepper can be seen trying on a few different hats or chatting with merchants. Any chance she gets, she will definitely invite people out to the markets with her.

D. [Pepper] Metaphysics 3 | Miles

Pepper is no stranger to weird Dreaming shenanigans. They happen a lot. This, though, is new. All she was trying to do was go back to her room, but she gets about halfway into the lobby when she's suddenly yanked upwards. It feels a lot like she's just fallen, but fortunately Pepper doesn't hit the ceiling too hard. Enough that she may end up mildly bruised, no more.

"Ow," she grumbles, 'sitting' up and staring at the floor. "Okay, this is really freaky."

E. [Devin] Crime 1 | Kit

Devin swears he does not get into fights on purpose. In this case, he's not even remotely involved with how it starts, seeing as he's on the other side of the bar when the first punch is thrown. This isn't his favorite establishment by any stretch, but it quickly turns into an all-out brawl when others unsuccessfully try to resolve it and brawls are not fun for anyone. Sighing, Devin puts his drink down and dives into the fray, moving faster than anyone has a right to and separating people with what might be casual boredom.

F - 1. [Devin] Arts 4 | Open

There is a reason that Devin does not use social media, and that reason is so no one can find him who he does not want to. He also doesn't have time for flame wars and diatribe, and the sole reason he would ever consider an account on any platform is to keep an eye on other people. There are no vampires here to track, but he has a Xa Xa account with zero pictures or information on it just in case it could prove useful to access.

The sudden influx of messages and, disturbingly, offers to do things like model for more photos - when did he model in the first place? - has him grumpier than average. The written letters that arrive for him may be well-intentioned, but the fact that people know how to find him feels… threatening. He's going to find the artist and politely but emphatically tell them to stop.

F - 2. Closed to Leo

It quickly becomes clear that a candid shot Leo took of Devin with his new pet inan draped across his shoulders is the cause of this uproar. He's not thrilled. He's also aware that it's not actually Leo's fault, but given that the young man has such a large following on the network, perhaps he can exert some influence to make this attention go away. The knock on Leo's door is curt.

G. [Devin] Petrichor | Around Aifaran | Open

Devin is among those who take well to the near-constant drizzle over Aifaran. It reminds him more than a little of England. Though he claims nowhere as home, he has a certain fondness for the country that he belongs to whether he would want it or not. Trying to write notes about the city in this weather is nigh impossible unless he can find a different kind of paper, and so Devin wanders. It's nice, in it's own way, to just be in the city and the rain. Luthien occasionally joins him, but the inan usually ends up hiding in his coat to avoid the drizzle. He's not happy, exactly, but the pensive look he wears is less harassed than in previous months.

H. [Pepper] On kaa | Gene

Practicing with Shadow magic is something best done in open spaces, just in case, so a park on the edge of the city seems fitting. Pepper had previously assured Gene that his ka is still there and that they just need to work on getting him to this plane. She is not an expert by far, but at least she can provide advice and moral support and her own ka to give a little guidance.

OOC note: Let me know if you want a specific starter or feel free to make your own!

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"If you're finding yourself still living in fear, Fool, I'd hope there's a way I can assuage some of your worries."

A sound somewhere between a laugh and sigh escapes the Fool, and he looks aside from the concern he glimpses in Devin’s eyes. His fingers curl around the handle of his teacup again. “Am I so transparent?” he replies, a hint of humour in his voice, but it fades. He gives his head a modest shake. “No, I am not afraid. It is something else.”

For a moment or two more he is quiet, though his silence perhaps says more than his words might; he needs the intervening seconds to gather a protective wall about his composure. He had not expected this sudden loss to hit him so acutely. After all, wasn’t he the one who chose to abandon Fitz, back in their world? Yet it was different somehow, knowing that it was not his choice this time. Perhaps this was how Fitz felt.

He carefully settles his hands into his lap and takes a breath. When he speaks again, his words are accompanied by a smile entirely bereft of happiness. “It seems,” he says softly, “that Fitz has disappeared from Aifaran.” He doesn’t say anything else; there is nothing left to say.

Finding himself uncomfortable around the Fool seems to be a running theme. It's not the thinly masked display of emotion that Devin finds disquieting; what bothers him most is not knowing how to help. His expertise is in action, and his ability to read people has always been directed towards manipulation and violence and survival. Grasping for comforting words that have genuine foundations is like reaching across an abyss. He stares into his tea, and the milky liquid provides no insight.

"I did wonder," he says at length, allowing a stretch of silence to hold the somber declaration. "I hadn't seen him at the Bridge, or when I went looking for him." But he hadn't wanted to assume. Devin's tracking skills were not infallible, and he had not made an exhaustive search. And, perhaps for the Fool's sake, he had hoped Fitz was simply avoiding him.

Devin fiddles with the mug, turning it back and forth in place slowly. "I'm sorry, Fool. This place is… splendid and terrible, for what it gives and takes."

"I'm sorry, Fool. This place is… splendid and terrible, for what it gives and takes."

The immensity of his grief and pain had been easier to hold in his heart before sharing it--but it had been a heavy burden to carry, leaving him taut and tense in other ways. Devin's gentle caution is still pressure enough against a raw wound to bring an unexpected sheen of moisture to the Fool's eyes, though he isn't truly on the cusp of weeping openly yet. His smile softens, before he looks away.

"Splendid and terrible. Yes."

He reaches for his tea, sips from it to steal precious seconds with which to centre himself, and if his breathing seems a touch unsteady when he sighs afterwards, surely he can be forgiven that much. "If not for the Dreaming," he admits after a spell of silence, "Fitz and I would never have met again. I suppose I should thank it for the chance to see him one last time."

He grows quiet again for a moment, then closes his eyes. Then, in a voice stricken with guilt, he whispers, "I should have been more patient with him. I should have..." He trails off.

Devin is familiar with carrying grief around like a lead weight around his neck, tucked away from the eyes of others. He himself has not ever really dealt with the loss of what few friends he has had, even those who died decades ago. Though their situations are quite different, the Fool's sorrow does not feel alien to him. Fitz's departure is still raw, and the Dreaming has left the Fool with a painful situation that may never be resolved.

"You cannot change the past," Devin begins simply. The Fool knows this, but it bears repeating. "But keep in mind, Fool, that as far as anyone knows, we don't remember the events that happen here when we return to our worlds. I certainly didn't remember, until I came back. The time spent in the Dreaming is... like the space between heartbeats. Liminal and ephemeral."

He raises his eyes to the prophet, who calls himself Devin's friend. Just as he would not see the Fool become sick, he would not see him hurt, either, but his ability to help is so much more limited here. His methods are practical and blunt, not to mention often unhealthy, and ill-suited to the delicate nature of this pain.

"As I see it, you can either dwell in regret over the way you parted last - which ultimately was entirely out of your control - or you can let it go," Devin reasons quietly. "Grieve that he's gone, Fool, but you don't need to go looking for burdens to bear and to beat yourself with. It would serve no purpose."

"...Grieve that he's gone, Fool, but you don't need to go looking for burdens to bear and to beat yourself with. It would serve no purpose."

"Guilt of this nature seldom does." The Fool's agreement is soft, introspective; it doesn't quite counter Devin's words, but neither does it seek to affirm them. For several long, quiet moments, he sits in silence across from Devin and seems to feel no need to fill the intervening time with conversation. (With feelings like these, sometimes it is necessary to just sit with them a while, rather than try to sort them out.) It presents quite the marked departure from their first meeting in the busy festival streets a few months ago, where the Fool seemed rather incapable of letting any silence in to fill the empty spaces. But they had been strangers to each other then, and his artless whimsy was as much a mask and defence mechanism as Devin's surly reticence. Now the space is welcome and acknowledged. It is just enough to let the light in.

After a time, he quirks a vague smile and lifts his chin. "I will try to do this," he decides, as if it were so easy. It isn't, of course, but saying the words aloud make his commitment to trying something that seems tangible. To clarify, he gives an idle gesture with one hand. "To--let it go." His hand moves to the side of his neck and settles there. "And to be better to those around me in this world, here and now. I suppose if there is any lesson to be gleaned from this, that is it."

The silence is more companionable than Devin imagines it would be. It's not an easy silence for him, given the subject of conversation, but the tension isn't of his own creation. It exists external to his actions, and the Fool has allowed him to share in some part of it. Devin keeps his eyes on his tea, occasionally taking a sip. Were their places reversed, he wouldn't want to be watched.

"Easier said than done," he acknowledges quietly of letting go. Devin has little advice to offer on that front; he's a poor example of how to deal with guilt. The past century has certainly left him time to try, but it hasn't been a high enough priority - or else Devin felt the guilt was reasonable for what he'd done.

He takes a carefully deeper breath, mindful of his ribs. "Konryu does make a significant argument for living in the present, for those who can. From what I've seen, you're not lacking in kindness to offer others, however." He gestures to the canister of arnica.

In Fitz's case, Devin suspects that it was precisely how close he and the Fool are that makes it easy to hurt one another. Such is the argument that Devin abides by, that allowing people in only leads to pain. Konryu has been doing it's best to chip away at that particular resolve.

Whatever grief they may have brought into each other's lives, both knowingly and unknowingly, the Fool feels secure enough in the knowledge that Fitz's love for him will never be in question. That grief is the price paid for love; the Fool would pay it again tenfold, if he must.

"Konryu does make a significant argument for living in the present, for those who can. From what I've seen, you're not lacking in kindness to offer others, however."

At that gesture, he looks to the arnica canister and promptly smiles a small, closed-mouth smile, then reaches for his teacup again. "A small kindness I hope you will make use of, should a Hound fall upon you again," he remarks almost pointedly from behind the rim before taking another sip, eyes glinting; he can't help a bit of needling. But sincerity softens the expression after a moment or two, and when the Fool lowers his cup again he appears not solemn, precisely, but there exists a candour in his gaze that is difficult to miss.

"I suppose it would be too much to ask you to take more care with yourself, in the future," he says quietly. The slight, pained twist to his smile--and the little skip of his heartbeat when the Fool looks into Devin's eyes--are indication enough of how much a 'yes, I will,' answer might mean to him, though he realistically does not expect one.

Edited 2018-05-10 21:39 (UTC)

The Fool is not the first person to make that request, nor does Devin believe he will be the last. The expression he wears, however, is far rarer. It's not the look of resigned annoyance or clinical opinion or petulant stubbornness. No, this is personal, like the time the Fool followed him after his altercation with Trahearne.

Like a certain doctor that Devin is reminded of more in the Fool's presence than anyone else's. His gaze settles on the canister for a moment while he arranges his features into something suitably aloof - it's a mask, but not a cold one. Merely one Devin needs so he does not make promises he cannot or will not keep, and to hide a more honest reaction to the Fool's concern for him. The lives of others will always come before his.

"If I am in a position to prevent loss of life, it's my responsibility to do something. I don't take risks lightly or without thought," Devin assures the Fool. "But enduring a little pain to ensure that others remain safe is no choice at all. I'm built to withstand more than most people can."

It's not a yes, but it's not strictly a no, either. He doesn't purposely try to get himself hurt, but he's played meat shield more than once in his lifetime.

"...I'm built to withstand more than most people can."

The Fool does not lose his small, wistful smile, and his gaze on Devin lingers a moment or two longer, even after his friend looks away from him. At length he sighs. "Of that," he replies, "I have no doubt."

Even the strongest among men must have their breaking points, but the Fool doesn't say this aloud. It is either a fact that Devin already knows, or one that he has refused to let himself know; if he refuses to acknowledge a weakness of will or in the strength of his own body, perhaps he believes he can push past his own limitations. It's a mindset not altogether foreign to the Fool. Fitz, he recalls, was all too willing to compartmentalize the needs of the body--his pain, his grief, his suffering--if it meant protecting others. (If it meant protecting him.)

(They could turn spotting parallels in each other into a drinking game.)

"Well," he begins again lightly after a brief pause, but seems unsure suddenly of what to say. Instead he reaches for the canister of arnica once more and then stands up. "I shall wrap this for you. We wouldn't want it leaking in your pockets on your walk home." He takes a few small steps back into his small kitchenette and fetches out some wax paper, then adds over his shoulder, "And I assume if I receive any other 'requests' for protection money, I ought to contact the Sentry rather than you?" It had been curious instinct that bid him reach out to Devin in the first place, but the Fool does not wish to become a burden upon anyone.

While Devin is hardier than humans, he is still slower to heal than his vampiric counterparts even on his best days. Understanding his limitations is, for better or worse, something he has down to a science. Injuries are a logical consequence of his lifestyle.

But it is one thing, he allows, to fail to avoid a bullet or a sword strike, and another entirely to shield friends from a grenade blast they would most assuredly not survive.

The Fool's latter comment elicits a strange reaction, though there's only a glimmer of bemusement in Devin's eyes. An odd defensiveness rises, overshadowed by the possibility that his efforts are a disappointment - that he didn't come here with better news and solid assurances. That he has not kept his promise. Well, some nasty whisper in his head supplies, it is taking you rather a while, isn't it?

But that doesn't seem like the Fool's way. "If you would prefer," Devin replies before too much time can pass. He stands carefully, since it seems the conversation is drawing to a close. "It's still no trouble for me, and I can likely reach you faster than they can in most situations. An official investigation wouldn't go amiss, however."

Very little time has passed, truthfully, but perhaps the hesitation itself is just long enough to catch the Fool's attention. He pauses in folding the wax paper around the arnica canister to glance back at Devin with a look of some confusion on his face.

"If you would prefer," he had said. It takes a moment for the implication in those words to settle in.

Earnestly, the Fool replies, "I would surely always prefer your aid," and turns to walk back over to Devin with the wrapped arnica canister in hand. He stops in front of him to extend the parcel out, then adds more quietly, "I welcome your help, but I worry I've made our friendship a burden to you."

If asked, Devin would have selected himself as the burdensome one, not the Fool. They both have more than their share of baggage and trauma, it seems, but as far as friendship goes-- Devin can think of little he brings but problems. Living in isolation has not done wonders for his social skills. This task he's taken on is, ironically, an acceptable excuse to spend time with the Fool without a sense of awkwardness hanging over him.

So it's with a mirthless quirk of a smile that he takes the canister. "You haven't." Not in this way; friendship in general may be hard for Devin, but that's a separate issue from trying to keep the Fool from harm. He briefly hesitates over trying to explain further, and decides to leave it at that.

"Thank you for this," Devin adds instead, raising the arnica. "I'll try to remember to use it, while there's a need for it." A slightly wryer, resigned smile pulls at his lips. "X has taken it upon himself to keep me from doing anything strenuous at work, so that may be a reassurance to you."

"X has taken it upon himself to keep me from doing anything strenuous at work, so that may be a reassurance to you."

At those words the Fool's expression lightens noticeably and he laughs. "Has he? That does not surprise me in the least," he replies, clear affection for his friend in his voice; yes, that did strike him as something that X would take upon himself to do. They seemed to subscribe to similar philosophies regarding friendship: proximity, or persistence. At least Devin seemed to be better tolerating his company than he was during their initial visit. "Tell him to take a break from pestering you, at least long enough to visit me at the café."

It is a good note to end on, and a logical place for Devin to take his leave. As far as the Fool can tell, there is no good reason for the sudden tightness in his chest; there is no good explanation for why he wishes, all of a sudden, for Devin to linger a little while longer. (There are bad reasons, of course. Bad explanations. He tries to ignore them.)

He doesn't mean to hesitate before he smiles, but the pause betrays the lightness and whimsy in the expression for the mask that it is. Still, he clasps his hands together and takes a smooth step towards the door. "Well I shan't keep you any longer than I already have," he says.

There is a vague sense of discomfort at the request to pass on a message to X that Devin can't quite place. Maybe it's that he now cannot avoid engaging with X at his workplace full stop, despite his intentions to do just that; or, maybe it's the implied familiarity that X and the Fool have, that Devin lacks even in this utterly benign role as a brief link between them.

He'll chalk it up to his generally poor social skills. If there's anything else informing the reaction, Devin isn't inclined to examine it at the moment (or in the foreseeable future).

"I will, if only for a respite from his constant chattering," he replies. The words could easily carry an edge, but here it's clearly meant as gentle ribbing. X means well, however annoying Devin finds his hovering. Devin trails after the Fool to the door, hesitating over what else to say - the evening has not gone entirely as expected.

All he can think of in a reasonable timeframe is, "Good night, Fool."

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Oh today I'm just a drop of water | April Catch-all

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