If I can live through this I can do anything

[lasergrenades]

Characters: Pepper Potts, Devin Parker, and you!
Date: Throughout August
Location: Around Aifaran
Situation: Pepper gets turned tiny and is a small terror, and Devin is dealing with the fallout of Bobby's visit
Warnings/Rating: Probable discussions of torture, violence, murder


A. [Pepper] Arts 3 | Around Aifaran | Open

Not having anything particularly against Igheeri and also not being particularly busy at the moment they grab her, Pepper is willing to go along with the gag. It's clearly a serious enterprise for them, and despite literally nothing being either a style that works for her or something that isn't completely hideous, she's having fun. For the first hour, anyway. After that it starts getting a bit ridiculous, and then when she tries to disentangle herself it is not as easy as she would like. "Really, this has been super fun, but, uh, I'm supposed to be meeting a friend nearby."

B. [Pepper] To be a child again | Aug 8 - 14 | Around Aifaran | Open

Well, this is awkward. Pepper woke up about twenty-five or twenty-six once in Keeliai, and that was a bit strange but not substantially problematic. Waking up ten, however… very problematic. Part of that problem is that, while she remembers Aifaran and Keeliai and all of that history, she's also much more her ten-year-old self than her actual age in some ways: more stubborn, more chatty, and more (visibly) insatiably curious. She tries to go to work, and the Sentry tell her she'll have to wait until it wears off (it had better wear off). The kitchen counter is annoyingly high but she insists on trying to cook anyway. None of her clothes fit, which means she can go shopping but everyone treats her like the child she appears to be, and therefore don't talk to her like she's just a human being. Bakura and Gene are elected to help make the shopping nightmare bearable. More than one person is threatened with arrest.

Worse, Pepper can't wear the Rescue armor properly, and the one time she tries she falls on her face in the middle of a park. When her ka is tangible, Pepper looks almost laughably small next to the fully-armored woman, and Vee teases her once by appearing at her ten-foot height. The redhead retaliates by climbing her.

C. [Devin] Apartment | August 1 | X

Valdis tells him that Bobby is gone, and the last shred of composure Devin has been clinging to finally shatters. He doesn't sit so much as collapse heavily onto his couch, head in hands and shoulders shaking. It's over. It should have been over when they trapped her, when they fought on the most even terms possible and when Devin had the chance to just kill her. He had her life in his hands for the first time, and he didn't want it. She wasn't worth it to him; she was still a threat, to be sure, but not in the apocalyptic way he had feared. What was left to her was her ability to destroy Devin from the inside out with just words, a powerful language to manipulate reality, and the knowledge that harming people he cares about would unhinge him.

She will never remember this incident, but Devin is left trying to pick up the pieces of himself in her wake. She's gone but the world hasn't stopped spinning out of his control.

D. [Devin] The turtle's head | Mid or Late August | The Fool

It's obscenely early in the morning when Devin reaches the turtle's head. Neither his apartment nor the Fool's is a neutral enough location for this conversation, and he couldn't think of anywhere else that would be both private and neutral. Visitors usually don't show up until after breakfast here, even though it's no guarantee of complete privacy. What it does offer is a sense of calm that has evaded Devin for the better part of three months. Even if it's only by inches, it is better than nothing. There's a flat spot on the rocks that isn't carved but is like a naturally formed bench, and Devin claims the spot to watch the sun rise.

He told the Fool when he'd be there, but didn't request that he arrive quite this early if he doesn't want to. The vampire doesn't need as much sleep as most humans. He hasn't been getting it either, and it's starting to show even in the pale rays of morning.

E. [Devin] A Bar | Late August | Kit

So, a lot happened last month. A Lot. Taking on his demonic ex-girlfriend and sealing her into a giant bloody cross until she vanished from Aifaran was not undertaken lightly, and Devin has been dealing with the consequences in one way or another ever since. Getting drunk and hiding was the first order of things, but then he had to help keep an eye on a foal-sized Hellhound and was forced to stop drowning in his own self-hatred and misery for five minutes. He knows he needs to have a conversation with everyone who was involved; Valdis can wait, since the whole guardianship thing will take some more unpacking of its own and she wasn't miffed about anything but not killing Bobby. Klaus understood the gravity of her presence even if she was much less powerful than anticipated, and Devin also isn't sure how this situation will affect their already rocky interactions.

Kit, however, had objected strongly to her murder and to sealing her, and as much as Devin would like to Never Ever speak of these events again, he has to. There is too much that Kit doesn't know, and not enough familiarity between them to let this sit by the wayside. Devin purchases himself a double helping of liquor and tells the bartender he'll get Kit's, too.

F. Wildcard!

Comments

[afoolsgold]

"If she had known--"

"Devin," the Fool begins gently, but quiets himself. Instead, he listens, even though the sharing of these burdens seems to tug and tear at old wounds already aggravated by Bobby's presence in Aifaran; but maybe letting the air in will enable them to heal properly, as they haven't been able to before, and perhaps if Devin can bring himself to share this much with the Fool, then maybe, possibly--

"...I am a death sentence to the people around me."

"Please look at me."

The request is delivered softly, without reprimand, but the immediacy of it hopefully is enough to ground Devin in the present moment, where he sits safe and uninjured on the great continent turtle's head, in the company of one who means him no harm. He waits until their eyes can meet, hesitates, then moves his touch from Devin's shoulder to his cheek; just fingertips at first, and then, tenderly, the back of one curved finger. The touch is brief, and silent, and it is only a matter of seconds before he draws his hand back. "We are alive, now." A moment's hesitation, before he insists softly, "I am alive now. Life, for the living, has only one guarantee, and that is that it has an end, but the choices we make with the time given to us are ours."

(Wretchedly unfair, the Fool has thought on more than one occasion, that his own decisions so often decided the fate of the future. He could have turned his back on his calling; he did not. He'd made his choice.)

There he grows quiet, his eyes at last darting away to rest on the water line; the sunrise is imminent now. The Fool takes a breath and goes on. "You've been through so much that I would be cruel to fault you for keeping those around you at arm's length. But I beg you not to do it for my sake alone," he says finishes quietly, looking to Devin again. His gaze is pleading. "Don't take the choice away from me."

[annihilist]

It takes an effort of will to meet the Fool's eyes, but Devin does turn. Fear and uncertainty crumple into shock when the Fool touches his cheek. He's too surprised to do much but breathe in sharply before the prophet pulls his hand away, and after seems frozen by the contact. When was the last time he'd been touched so gently? Either he can't remember, or it's never happened. Kind hands have rarely reached him.

A memory of the future lashes at Devin: an eternity awaits in which he will slowly cease to be the man he is and become something other. How long it will take, Devin has no idea; only that if he isn't killed, he can never truly die. That matters less here in Konryu. In all likelihood, Devin will be sent back to his world before immortality becomes relevant. No, the real obstacles are more deeply rooted than that nebulous fate.

He can't hold that amber gaze for more than a moment. Devin's grip on the edge of the stone is white-knuckled and his voice is edged with desperation. "I am a monster, Fool. I am hunted by every race and faction in my world, and there is an ocean of blood on my hands. Do you really think we'll be this lucky again, if more of my enemies arrive? It's hard enough losing friends to a peaceful old age."

Everyone dies, and he has not learned to overcome that grief. But even that, Devin knows, is not the cruelest specter that hangs over him. The last one is as selfish as it is agonizing.

[afoolsgold]

If nothing else might be said for the Fool, it should at least be readily apparent to Devin now that he is doggedly persistent.

"What makes a monster?" He hardly frames it as a philosophical question; it would sound almost accusatory if it weren't accompanied by another gentle touch to Devin's arm, where his hand lingers. He goes on. "I've endured cruelty at the hands of mortal men who saw a fey child at court and made my torment their sport. Is that not monstrous because they were born, lived, and died as living things do? Was the one who murdered me not monstrous because we shared a lineage?" He shakes his head and says quietly, "I know what the people of your world mean to you, even if they will never know what you have given up for them. If you take a monster's measure by how little they care for those around them, then you fall far short of that mark."

For another weighted moment he stares at Devin's profile and the tension tightening his jaw. His fingers curl in the fabric of his sleeve, and when he speaks again there is a note of finality in his voice. "Whatever my feelings might be, I meant what I said to you when we met in the library. I want nothing from you that you do not wish to give." His hand loosens, then falls away. "If you must reject me, then do so because changing our friendship is not what you desire to do. I am not a child; I will respect your wishes. But don't push me away to protect me from danger." This is said with a touch of reproach, though the delivery is far from cold.

[annihilist]

The honesty required to explain how deeply terrifying the prospect of exploring a relationship is, nearly got Devin killed the last time it arose. The Fool means him no harm; he's not going to be tortured for speaking his mind. But Bobby had stolen his ability to judge his own feelings and shattered whatever trust in intimacy that she'd built up in him. Even a smaller wound, a more mundane one, would strike at that part of him again. He doesn't believe he has the strength to endure it a second time.

"It's not about wishing, Fool," Devin grinds out, somewhere between fear and frustration, and suddenly finds he can't bear the careful stillness. He's on his feet and pacing out into the surf, heedless of the sand and water getting into his shoes. He just needs to move, though he doesn't go far at all. "It's about not even knowing if I can. For Christ's sake, I killed my entire family when I was eleven. What kind of person--!" His voice cracks and he puts a hand over his mouth with his eyes tightly closed.

Devin's chest rises and falls heavily as he tries to get himself under control. Genocidal mass murderers should not be allowed happiness. This as much as anything else is behind Devin's refusal to get close to people, but his outburst should at least make it clear that he wants to.

"I am broken pieces pretending to be whole," he says, quiet and rough. The sun starts to peek over the horizon, blindingly bright on the water. It forces him to look away, and his gaze returns to the Fool. "And you deserve so much better than a disaster."

[afoolsgold]

These confessions are spilling out into the open between them far too swiftly to have been shared after careful thought and consideration, and the Fool wonders with a deep ache in his heart how many of these secrets Devin will regret sharing once he has better control over himself. If he can be certain of nothing else today, the Fool at least hopes Devin trusts that these secrets will be safe in his keeping.

"Forgive me." The words come out after a weighted pause, soft enough that another set of ears might miss them. Then, carefully, the Fool unfolds himself from his sitting position to rise to his feet. He takes a moment longer to pick up his sandals from where he'd discarded them, dusts them off, but doesn't slip them on again just yet.

"You are in pain, and I thought--" There the Fool grows quiet again; there's a wistful, bittersweet sort of curl to the corners of his lips that might have been a smile, if the circumstances had been kinder. He lets out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding in, then at last looks towards Devin, shaking his head once. "I don't know what I thought. Not enough, clearly." This added dryly, the self-deprecation clear, before he goes on with a vague gesture between them "That my being here might bring you some comfort, perhaps, that you might..."

That you might be ready. That you might want me. The words, the sentiment behind them, ring too selfishly for the Fool to speak them aloud, and so he does not. His heart is a resilient thing, long accustomed to loneliness and rejection, but there is no sense in subjecting himself to it when there is a far greater wound in need of healing first. His private longing, his hope, and all the fears and dreams that go with them, seem shallow and childish things in comparison.

He takes a few steps through the surf towards Devin, starts to reach out again, then stops short. There's an uncertain furl between his brows, and with a small shake of his head, he simply repeats himself, "forgive me--I've asked too much of you."

[annihilist]

While it's true that Devin might think better of sharing all of this at once under better circumstances, this is nevertheless a mark of trust. The Fool has only ever been careful with him, respecting his boundaries and being far more patient than Devin thought anyone ever would. They wouldn't even be able to have this conversation in the first place were it not for how the Fool has treated him - Devin would not have had the courage for it.

He's not sure if he has the courage now to extend a hand across this divide. It's not that he doesn't want. Quite to the contrary, he fears that want is all he is capable of and having that affirmed would ruin him. It would prove Bobby was right. Of course, he'll never know if his heart is still open if he never tries. He does not fear death and he does not fear physical pain, but his very survival has relied upon hiding his true feelings for far too long.

A flicker of shame can be found in Devin's eyes. Will this be the last chance he gets? It would be cruel to ask the Fool to wait for him too long.

"But you did ask," Devin says raggedly, "and you are here. And that-- matters." His voice shakes with emotions he has never learned to master, only stifle. "A house cannot be built on pillars of sand, and sand is all that I would be."

He looks away, head hanging. "Perhaps it's all I ever can be. I won't mislead you by claiming otherwise."

[afoolsgold]

At first, the Fool says nothing in response to those words, though the pained wince at the corners of his eyes is more than enough evidence to prove that they've reached him. Then he shakes his head slowly and, summoning his own courage, closes the remaining distance between them, reaching out his gloved hand to touch the edge of Devin's jaw; a silent request not to look away, please, not now--

When their eyes meet again, the Fool's are wet with a sheen of unshed tears. Whatever he has to say, it takes him yet another moment to master himself, and he can't completely check the almost melodic waver in his voice when he admits, "Since I arrived in Aifaran, you have been my most constant, my most unwavering, my most diligent and," this next said with a trace of a smile, "my most infuriatingly stubborn, dear friend." His eyes soften and drop to where his fingers touch Devin's jaw, lingering there; he takes a breath before he goes on. "Truthfully, after Fitz, that is not something I believed I would ever experience again. Not after what I demanded he endure for my calling."

The scale isn't the same; the blood on the Fool's hands belongs only to him, and to Fitz, but it is there, and the guilt that comes with it is as multifaceted and layered as the inexplicable grief he felt upon being brought back from the dead on the Glacier Plains. It takes up such impressive real estate in his heart that to find that he still has the capacity for longing, for desire, for something more, is an astounding relief.

He makes a soft sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. "So you see," he begins again, "you can't mislead me, Devin. You have already given me an irreplaceable gift, and I will always cherish it."

For a moment he hesitates, then gives in to a small, selfish impulse. He leans in to press a gentle kiss to Devin's cheek, just softly, just once; his hand falls to settle just above Devin's heart. When he draws back, there's a bittersweet twist to the corners of his mouth, and though the words he speaks belong to another time, another place, it seems only natural to say them again now. "I set no limits on what I feel for you--and my heart is not a weathervane. I'm not so easily changed."

He watches his fingers as he smooths the faintly rumpled fabric of Devin's shirt once. "You know where you can find me, if you need me." Then he steps carefully around Devin, his touch falling away, and ascends the grassy hillside away from the shore.

[annihilist]

The touch at his jaw is as arresting as the words that follow. Devin would be hard pressed to say which is more astonishing, and all he can do is stand there, frozen and wide-eyed as he listens. Seconds pass like a dream, the traitorous part of his mind trying to confront the reality before him, to keep him from letting the words in.

Shock and gratitude and fear and battered affection make his chest tight and leaden his tongue. He couldn't see past his own failings to the possibility that his presence might actually be a good thing in someone's life. Being a protector and an ally was not the same as being a friend, and putting others before himself only seemed natural. But the Fool views him through a remarkably different lens, and values him not as a tool or a resource but as a person.

The kiss burns insensibly against his skin, and whatever composure Devin had managed to gather back flees him. He's so stunned he almost doesn't hear what the Fool says next, his breaths coming unevenly like his lungs are stumbling over the air. To know what he means to the Fool, and to know he hasn't lost him yet despite all he purports to lack, is a balm on his gaping wounds: not comfortable, but no worse than the pain he's already feeling.

Without thought, without looking, Devin reaches out and just barely brushing his fingertips against the Fool's arm as he passes by. He can't find his way back to words to even try to stop him from leaving.

Devin isn't certain how much time has gone by before he drifts back to sit heavily on the stone, head in his hands as exhaustion weighs down his frame. Left with something so precious, he is utterly adrift in uncertainty. The fog he hoped would lift is becoming a permanent fixture in his life, and Devin is at a loss for how to find his way free of it on his own.

Hours later, he finally wanders back to Aifaran.