doesitanyway | [ MEADOWLARK ] IC Inbox

[ That sits between them for a little while. Ephemera rubs his thumb along the edge of the glass and watches Trevor, wondering. Trevor's family was killed too. That sort of thing sits with you. Once, Ephemera would have said it killed him, or at least the man he was. That he would never go back to who he was, that he would die fighting against an enemy he hated because there was no room for anything else in him. That rage kept him going. It pushed down everything else. The grief would have been too much otherwise. It would have broken him like it broke the captain. ]

I don't know if I can do that. I got used to being angry. I think that's all I was, for a long time.

[ He drinks again. ]

But there's a version of me that loved somebody. And I don't know how to settle that.

Anger's part of grief, but it's not insurmountable. I think yours was more focused than mine, though. When you try to hate everybody, it sort of burns out for having too broad a target. Leaves you more numb, or maybe that was just the liquor.

[ He also drinks again, stares at the remaining liquid and reminds himself again to have some control. Then he looks back up at his friend. ]

Why's it so strange? Right person... I don't think it's so odd to fall in love despite yourself.

[ Anger, grief, and liquor. Ephemera breathes out. He's almost done with his glass. He didn't intend to go through it so quickly. ]

Guess I don't see how I was ever the right person for somebody.

[ It's not hard to see how that other version of him fell in love with Drake. He's—kind, and steady. There's a sincerity in him that Ephemera rarely sees in other people. Even when they first met, even in the dream, there was a part of Ephemera that trusted Drake. It was simple in a way very little in his life has been in a very long time.

No. It wouldn't be hard to fall in love with him. ]

We are our own harshest critics, isn't it said?

[ Trevor drains his glass and cradles it in his hands, thoughtful. ]

You realize this line of conversation has nothing to do with magic. And I've never had a relationship so I'm probably ill prepared to give advice there. But you're certainly capable of feeling things besides that anger. And if you did move past it? Would likely be a wonderful partner.

[ Ephemera snorts. ]

I was going to ask you questions. Sorry.

[ It got away from him, though. The only other person he could think to talk this over with is Godric. Trevor knows magic, though, and Ephemera thinks they're friends. He doesn't have many of those.

He tips his head back and drinks his glass. ]

It's just. A lot. And he's so nice about it.

Nothing to apologize for.

[ Trevor waves a hand -- he's willing to listen no matter what the subject, he just doesn't know how much help he could be. ]

Nice about what, exactly, and why do you find that strange?

[ He hasn't quite put it together that this person is the same one who was engaged to the other Ephemera. ]

[ Ephemera winces. ]

Yeah. So. Person who told me's the same one who. You know.

[ So that's a thing. ]

Didn't figure it out right away. But I asked, and he showed me.

Oh.

[ In retrospect that should have been obvious, hm? Trevor's even more confused now, though. ]

Wouldn't that make him more likely to be nice to you? Or I suppose he could be upset, but it's not as if being someone else is your fault.

And you still have no idea how you feel about any of this?

[ Ephemera groans, dragging a hand down his face. It occurs to him then that he's not used to people being nice to him in general, and that's a thought he isn't entirely sure how to process. Everyone here has been so fucking understanding about everything, giving him chance after chance. Even the Freelancers. ]

He's—

Fuck.

[ Ephemera drops his hand. Eyes the whiskey and then just sighs. ]

I don't know. I don't have those memories. I didn't live that life. But he's. Steady. Kind. And I get it. I get why someone would fall in love with him.

Getting it doesn't mean it'll happen to you. Our experiences do play a part in who we are and yours are different.

[ He hums, then puts his empty glass on the table. ]

Alright, give me your hand.

[ Ephemera blinks at Trevor. He hesitates for a moment, then exhales. Sets his glass down and then offers out his hand.

There was a time he would have fought that. Touching another person unless it got him an advantage somehow. He still flinches from time to time. But it doesn't feel like it's going to kill him anymore.

It's a small change. But maybe a telling one.

The prevailing feeling is confusion. So much has changed and Ephemera used to be so sure of everything. The world, his place within it. His mission. And now that's changed in a way that cannot be ignored. He doesn't know what he wants, or what he's supposed to do. Below that is the deeper grief, the feeling that he's betraying his family in some way by feeling something other than the blinding rage. He was supposed to avenge them, but he hasn't.

And maybe they wouldn't want him to. Maybe they would want something else for him.

Then there's Drake, who is kind and steady, a solid presence, and Ephemera trusted him almost too easily from the first. But it felt natural, easy, and so little has been easy in his life. So little feels easy now, in this place. But he's not the person that Drake loved, that Drake gave a ring to, and how is he supposed to work with that? How is he supposed to know what it feels like to sit next to Drake and watch him fall asleep while Ephemera sketches, and not be that person? How is that fair?

He wants to be fair, and he likes how it feels just to sit next to Drake, and it's tangled all together. ]

Edited 2020-06-30 03:16 (UTC)

[ Trevor typically views the bond as a practical thing, a tool in this instance as well. He's thinking maybe he can assist in sorting through things since he won't be in denial of the feelings... hopefully. This is the man who was so sad for so long he forgot what it was like not to be and assumed he wasn't. But he's gotten a better handle on that now, he thinks.

Now he knows he's miserable. It's a blessing, truly, this awareness.

Ephemera holds out his hand and Trevor takes it, trying to break down the rush of feelings he gets from the other man. Hmm. ]

Wow. You are confused. But is that... guilt? You have nothing to feel guilty about, Ephemera.

[ It doesn't hurt. The empathy bond. Ephemera breathes out and he lets Trevor take his hand, and it doesn't hurt. But it goes both ways, like it always does, and there are flashes of emotion hitting him. One after another. First a sense of happiness at seeing a friend, but below that is a deeper, abiding sense of frustration and misery. A desire to feel useful, to make some sense out of the moment.

Oh, Ephemera thinks, and blinks at Trevor.

Oh. You're lonely. ]

I'm not....

[ He exhales. ]

That other me. He was better. He had his shit together. And I don't.

[ And what must that be like, to meet a familiar face only to find it belongs to a stranger? ]

[ Trevor's grip on Ephemera's hand tightens, his voice a little more forceful. ]

No, he was different. If you want to get your shit together, then get your shit together. But do it for you, not because you feel guilty that you're not someone who someone else wishes you were. You're in charge of your own life.

[ Different. Not better.

Ephemera sits with that for a moment, his hand in Trevor's. There's a different path. He misses his family and he liked how it felt to sit next to Drake on the bed, to sketch while the other man fell asleep. So much is confused or strange in this world, but he knows that. And it wasn't because he was someone else, someone better or just changed. He did that on his own.

Okay. He breathes out.

Okay. ]

I do. Want that.

[ He huffs a little. Squeezes Trevor's hand just because he can. And because no one should be lonely. ]

You didn't have to listen to this. But you did. Thank you.

Well, you did bribe me.

[ But in contact like this, Ephemera will feel that isn't the reason. Trevor came by because he wanted company and to help a friend, which he feels a little like he's managed.

There's one more thing he's curious about before he lets go, though. ]

You like him even though it's confusing and painful, huh?

[ Ephemera tips his head to the side. The empathy bond goes both ways. ]

Yeah. I trust him. I don't do that a lot anymore.

[ For a while, he thought that was another thing he'd never do again. Something that other people could manage but not him. It crept up on him slowly, though. He has friends now. And there is trust. He counts Trevor among them. ]

It felt easy. That part. Not the rest. But that was....good.

I'm glad for that, then, if less than pleased about the guilt.

[ There's a burst of protectiveness through the connection before Trevor lets go, leaning forward to pour them each another drink. Just a small one. ]

So you think the key to this other you's happiness was moving past your grief, yes? What steps are you taking to do that here, now that you know it's possible?

[ Ephemera breathes out slowly. It's still strange that other people know him like this, and in knowing it want to protect him. He thinks of Hunter, of the others. His family. They're gone, but his world isn't so narrow anymore. He can have more than ghosts, if he lets himself. ]

I think that's more....me, then him. He's never pretended we're the same.

[ It would probably easier if he was. If he had those memories. If he'd become that other person. But this is where they stand. ]

I'm trying to. Face some of. I try to focus on the good memories, instead of the rest.

[ He watches Trevor for a moment. Trevor was much younger when his family was killed. The memories are different. ]

I used to see them dead. All the time. My family. But I'm trying not to. Want to remember the better times instead.

[ Trevor lets out a low hum as he listens, thoughtful. ]

That's a promising strategy. But what about the other side of it?

[ The glasses sit in front of them. Ephemera eyes his for a moment, but doesn't take it. Strangely, he doesn't want to be drunk for this. ]

The other side? Oh.

[ He's quiet. He touches his knuckles to his mouth. ]

Guess I'm taking it one day at a time. We talk, me and Drake. I sat with him, after the simulation. That was. Rough, for him. I don't know why it was easier for me. Maybe because I've been in war zones before.

I'm trying to. Know him, as a person.

Actually, I meant understanding and forgiving the people who killed your family. Since some of them are here and that must be incredibly difficult for you.

[ He reclaims his glass and gives a little toast. ]

But it's interesting who you went back to taking about.

Oh.

[ He doesn't blush, but he ducks his head a little. Embarrassed. ]

I think. Even though it's confusing, that's easier. It doesn't hurt, being around him.

[ And it does with the Freelancers. It cuts at him, a physical ache he feels deep in his chest. In his throat. Sharp when he swallows. ]

I talked with them. I don't know. Sometimes I don't end up yelling at them. I think it's always going to hurt, though. Because they're here. And my family isn't.

What were you talking to them about? I'd assume dwelling on who did what and the wrongness there means it'll always hurt.

[ Ephemera breathes out slowly. Flexes his hands, watching the shift of ink and scars across his skin. ]

We talked about the war. The Insurrection. It's...complicated. But there were still sides, even when the Covenant came and everyone was talking about it being humanity's last stand and all that.

[ Command always talked like that made it simple, but it wasn't. It never could be. ]

Carolina asked me why they fought. The Insurrectionists. What they wanted. And she....listened to me.

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