doesitanyway | [ MEADOWLARK ] IC Inbox

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.

...well that's different, then.

[ Trevor only half understands what the Insurrection and Covenant are from prior conversations, but he does know war. ]

You know it's possible for there to be good people on opposite sides of things. Whether one side is misled or both -- war can have a victor but truly, everyone involved suffers loss. Perhaps you aren't so different after all.

[ Ephemera snorts. A bitter expression crosses his face. ]

Didn't stop her from killing my people.

[ Stop. Don't go there. ]

I didn't want to understand her. But I think I'm starting to.

I'm not certain if you missed my point or intentionally ignored it to express that your feelings are still winning out -- which would be valid at this stage -- over pragmatism. Maybe we should have discussed this before drinking.

[ He takes another sip. ]

Understanding is good. Probably very confusing, though.

[ Ephemera groans, dragging a hand down his face. He doesn't feel drunk. He feels confused more than anything else, knotted up on too many points, and more than a little like he's taking it out on Trevor, who came here expecting to talk about magic. ]

Sorry. I don't mean to do that.

[ Doesn't stop him, though. He needs to work on that. Practice what he's going to say. Follow his own advice and make a script ahead of time.

He watches Trevor for a moment, then drinks again. ]

Can I ask you something?

No apologies, I just said it'd be valid. It's still a raw thing being confronted with these people.

[ Trevor grins, because he thought the whole point of him being here was to be asked things. But that might not be a great joke to make if Ephemera's asking permission -- it's likely something serious. ]

You can.

You lost your family, too.

[ They talked about that once. It feels like a long time ago. Ephemera regards his glass for a moment but doesn't drink just yet. ]

Did you forgive them? The ones who did it.

I did.

[ He confirms it and waits for Ephemera to go on... and it's a difficult question but not an unexpected one. ]

That's complicated. I forgive the men who stormed my home. Those who actually did the deed, because of how they were led astray. They thought they were doing what was right driving harmful dark magic users from their lands, but the hand pulling the strings was in the church. I don't forgive the bishop who sowed that fear. I don't forgive the evils committed against innocents when I see it now.

I think the answer to your specific question is yes?

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