IC Inbox

[everythinglost]

Call for a good time

Comments

[crab_rangoon]

Pagan usually knows where to find the other man, but he knows that he only has a small window of time in which to do it before the breach feelings fade and it gets complicated again. For now though, things are as simple as they’ve ever been.

When he finds Fitz eventually, he slings an arm around his shoulder. “Take a walk with me, boy!” he says in a friendly enough tone.

[everythinglost]

Once a flood finishes or breach memories start overwhelm breach feelings, Fitz tends to retreat to his room (in between visits to the bar) so he can work on repressing everything through alcohol, music, and not seeing anything that might bring up things that he doesn't want to think about. It's a highly successful system that he would recommend for either hard moments in life or stressful situations when - the possibility has to be acknowledged - dead.

But immediately after this breach, when the feelings are still bright and clear and helping him avoid thinking about anything that could come close to 'meaning', he could take a smoke break on the deck of the barge, simply enjoying the scenery. Not that he objects to it being 'interrupted' by some company.

He laughs a little, stubbing out the end of his cigarette. "I've heard walking might be good for you, but for a friend."

[crab_rangoon]

Pagan's tense, but things are easy. Simple. Easiest thing in the world. He breathes out, grinning. "You look better in the other suit, I must say, but who am I to be picky?" He huffs a bit, guiding him towards the stairs, towards one of their rooms -- it doesn't particularly matter which one.

"Did we learn some valuable lessons?" he asks. "Because I certainly did."

[everythinglost]

It's nice to be back in one of his leather jackets, more familiar, even if he's still wearing it more like he'd worn the suit than the more rumpled look he usually cultivates. It can be hard to remember, when both are equally constructed and he still feels like he has a much longer history standing differently. It's too easy for him to make himself into someone else to dare wearing someone else's clothes. "I carry them off too well, could be a danger to the ship."

He raises an eyebrow. "Oh, yes, got a whole heaping of them. Practically too many valuable lessons to count."

[crab_rangoon]

"My favorite is that love will prevail," he tells him with a laugh. "So tell me what happened with you. Or him. What happened to the sword?"

He takes the stairs, arm still around him, keeping him close, trying to control their movements.

[everythinglost]

"Oh, I thought we were talking about stock tips."

He laughs, letting Pagan control their movement down the stairs. "Now that got crazy. Big fight in the middle of someone's farm, talked my way out of any trouble, finally completed that whole quest... It was very dramatic."

[crab_rangoon]

"What a show! I'm sorry I missed it." He grins. "I was redeemed through the power of love." He groans and rolls his eyes. "What a load of shit, honestly."

He hates it. Hated that breach. Not because of what it did to him but because it was absolutely pointless. The train breach? He got to beat up some guards. That was fun. The alien breach? He got to be young again! Kick some ass.

But this was just frivolous nonsense.

[everythinglost]

"Is that what was going on?" Not exactly meant to be mean, but like a lot of things Fitz can say, not entirely not meant to be, either. With the balance still not back to the calibration it'd usually be set on the barge. "I'd think you'd be happy. Now you know exactly what's expected of you, none of this messing around in the dark thing some of us are stuck with."

He rubs his chin. "I can't say I learned my path to redemption is through cool fights, because I'm pretty sure he was still technically evil by the end of all that. I'm jealous, really." He doesn't even try to pretend.

[crab_rangoon]

His arm tenses slightly as they reach his floor, walking down the corridor. "That is not my redemption. Or if it is, I'm fucked." He moves his arm away and unlocks his door. "A drink? We need to talk."

[everythinglost]

"I don't think that's anyone's redemption. Unless this place gets even more warped, which you never know." He smiles, not quite shrugging. "I'll never turn down a drink."

[crab_rangoon]

He closes the door behind them and reaches down to pick up two beers from a trunk in the corner. He hands one over to him and pulls a cigarette from his pocket. "That person you were. Frank. You were inside his head for a while, weren't you?"

He grins, but it's not a nice smile. "What was his deal, hm?"

[everythinglost]

He takes the beer, opening it as he takes a seat. The casual ease - it's not not Fitz-like, but then, few things truly fall into 'unlike him', and it's easy for one piece just to be slight more true than another. For a time.

"There were quite a few. I mentioned the stock tips, though I'm sure they're probably completely useless in any other world." He leans back a little, "If you mean in a more personal sense..."

[crab_rangoon]

"That, my boy, is exactly what I mean." He sits down in his chair and leans back, feeling as tangled as a web. Stomach tight. Chest tight. Choking him so he can't breathe.

"The more personal sense."

[everythinglost]

He eyes Pagan a moment, deciding not to offer Mordred's mental commentary on the subject of kingship or the woman who, now, reminds him faintly of Compassion that he'd suggested Pagan hire in one of the last times they'd met before he'd vanished.

"That's always more complicated, isn't it? In that conversation - he was telling the truth, as far as he understood it. Pulled forward from the distant past, spent decades dicking around, not aging and not sure how long anything would last because a certain amount was out of his control." And how he'd hated that, all that time spent trying to learn more, fighting to take hold of his destiny. "Living like that can make dealing with people tricky, even before you get into the morals and values section."

[crab_rangoon]

Pagan watches him closely, tapping his chin once. "Morals and values, hm? Well, he had no shortage of those. Or at least what he considered those. Still, the man I was had an interesting sort of relationship with him."

He leans forward slightly.

"Which leads me to us."

God, he hates this.

[everythinglost]

"A strange collection, at times, but they were important to him." Calling it 'an interesting sort of relationship' is certainly technically accurate.

"Oh?" Not words he'd ever expected from Pagan, honestly.

[crab_rangoon]

Pagan takes a drink and pushes his hair from his face, watching him. "Honestly, my boy, this is something we should have talked about a long damn time ago. But we certainly are overdue for it. And what better time to do it than after a goddamn breach when we're not quite ourselves?"

When Pagan is still reeling from the high of it and doesn't yet feel himself.

[everythinglost]

"That's fair, I've always thought most things are best talked about when not quite yourself."

For example, when he is entirely himself, he generally doesn't see why things ever have to be talked about. If you think about it, most are actually much better if left totally unspoken, and, for preference, also lied about. But he's found that most people either understand this fundamental fact or they don't. And, unfortunately, sometimes even the ones that do feel a need to act against everyone's best interests. And they can be the hardest to stop.

[crab_rangoon]

"Well, I'd rather be fucked up on something more than bad memories and beer, but here we are." He shakes his head. "But I'll admit that this isn't the fucking sort of talk I want to have. Ever. But if we're going to be fucking, then we might as well talk about it."

[everythinglost]

He raises the beer in agreement to that. "Though if you have too much help, you might end up having to have the conversation again, and thus escape can hold it's own traps or something." Or you might decide that there was no reason to have the conversation in the first place and being more fucked up can be useful. But, honestly, he can pretend nothing ever happened on much less than just bad memories and beer. "Using my practically mystical understanding of people, I suspect it's probably not the type of talk I usually love. Though that covers quite a bit."

He's not sure he's physically capable of getting even something like buzzed off beer, but it's nice to have something to drink.

[crab_rangoon]

"Fitz, I am quite sure that if this was the sort of talk either of us loved, we'd have done it already." He takes another long drink, thinks of a cigarette and maybe a bit of rum or vodka or fucking brandy, and glances to his trunk again.

Would that defeat the point of riding the breach bleed?

Fuck.

"And your mystical understanding of people is certainly something to be admired. So talk plainly. And none of your rambling nonsense unless it's particularly interesting. What is this?"

[everythinglost]

Maybe that's actually a sign to be paid attention to and they should get drunk instead. It would be easier. And probably better, too. People are often wrong in thinking that something being hard means it's something necessary. But saying that, well, it gets close to a whole host of stuff he wants to talk about even less.

He'd still prefer to have something harder.

"I have no idea what you could be talking about." There's never any rambling nonsense, and if there was it'd always be particularly interesting. Though this conversation is certainly shaping up to be even worse than he thought it might be. Not that he'd thought about it, not thinking about conversations you don't want to have is how you don't have them. He tilts his head a little, waving between him and Pagan. "You mean, what is this?" Apart from almost physically painful to clarify.

[crab_rangoon]

"Yes," he tells him firmly. "Exactly."

And that's his cue to do something else. Because if he has to endure this conversation any longer, he doesn't want to be in his right mind. Breach bleed be damned. This is the stupidest fucking thing he's ever had to do, so he doesn't know why it's so hard.

Except he does know why it's hard.

And there's not enough alcohol in his room, on this barge, to get him to admit that just yet.

He pours two glasses of gin and hands one to Fitz. "I've found that this helps loosen the tongue."

[everythinglost]

Fitz has done things that are, he can admit, a lot stupider. But at least they're usually also more fun. Or, at the very least, he's drunker.

He's certainly not going to refuse the gin.

"Meanwhile beer can barely be trusted to wet the whistle." Well, if they're going to do this, he knows how to do it his way. He shrugs. "Honestly, I don't know if I've ever gotten into it. I mean, we're friends. We're on decent enough spaceship cruise that might also be an afterlife and is certainly one of the swankier prisons I've had the pleasure of. Mostly free flowing alcohol, close quarters, not the most crowded schedule… It's not even like there's shuffle board at ten."

[crab_rangoon]

"Fitz," Pagan says warningly, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You know, I've never had the urge to hit you, but I might do it now."

He won't, but he isn't above threatening. He takes a long drink, wishing desperately for something more. Something instant. Something that he doesn't have to wait on. More gin might do the trick.