ataraxionlogs | A World of Consequences. CLOSED.

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A World of Consequences. CLOSED.

CHARACTERS: Ned & Chuck; Ned & Dirk.
LOCATION: First Chuck's room, then running into Dirk in the kitchen.
WARNINGS: No warningsssss, other than FEELINGS ALERT.
SUMMARY: Ned, the Pie Maker has just revived someone he is fond of. Again. Feeling like a huge jerk and hypocrite, it's time for adult talk for the unfortunate couple. ALSO, Dirk and Ned broship time.
NOTES: Action because all of my posts are prose-action hybrids. /mannnn

[He shouldn't have done that.

He should have let her go. The tragedy and beauty of life itself was something he did not deserve, yet he grasped it from time to time. But not once had he ever regretted his decision, just as he couldn't bear watching the eyes of a childhood sweetheart fall closed. This time, somewhere as strange and peculiar as space, he had done it again. Letting the dead live and the living die. Alone with his thoughts along the way to Chuck's room, he found his feet shuffling more quickly than he could handle. Loneliness, he didn't want that. The stirring idea of someone falling into death at exactly sixty seconds was a terrible thought, so he wanted to fill his thoughts with her. Just her.

Even though he's such a hypocrite.]

Hey, I'm here.

[The Pie Maker had promised to arrive much earlier, to prepare for hiding. Demons are among us, they said. But with the furrow of his brow, he indicated something much heavier was to be handled.]

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[It has already been quite some time from when Ned had told her the time he was coming over earlier. She definitely wasn't expecting him to be this late so she couldn't help but think something might have happened, between everything that's been going on lately. However, the moment he appeared at her door, she smiled as he greeted her]

Hey. I was wondering what was taking you so long— [Wait...she knew that look] You okay? Did something happen?

Yes, something... something.

[Moments passing feel like hours, and he barely remembers to move away from the door. His steps feel heavy, his own body refusing to release this confession as it wants to pull away, yet stay. Finding comfort in her face, yet hurt. He had almost forgotten where the two left off, a snowy graveyard and her rejected request, and it was one of the sharp pushes for the final decision.

Emotion, always getting the best of him.

He moves towards her, cautious for the more intensified hurt he has called into their lives once again.]

Understand Chuck, I've... I-I've been here for a while. Something about the difference in time between us and just the-- the thought of being in space, it's ridiculous.

But I've been here for a great amount of time, an amount of time I would have willingly wished away, without you. As I am, I shouldn't have spoken to anyone, but instead gone through my days trying to figure how to get back. A mechanism. A plan. A wish upon a star, since I found myself surrounded in them. I should have done that, but I didn't. I made a friend.

Her name is Alayne Stone and she died not too long ago. When I couldn't bear the thought of not being with you, she offered me friendship and comfort. Suddenly it was alright waiting for an answer, the way back to you. Even her family, reunited with her at last, is here but... arrived at the most horrible timing. I let me feelings take over my decision and it happened again. All over again. So, that's why I...

[Clearing his throat, perhaps to stall for the last moment. Desperation.]

I revived her. To stay. And nothing about this is fair, not to you, not to her, not to me, not to her family, not to anyone on this ship.

Not to anyone at all. I'm so sorry.

[There was quite a bit of silence on her end, even after Ned had finished speaking. Chuck was more than aware of the apparent time difference in their unexpected arrivals to the place, so the fact he'd made a friend she glad for him even if it was against what he had intended]

Alayne Stone? You never mentioned her to me before— [It made her wonder why but as he continued on about her, Chuck started to feel really bothered by it especially when she heard Ned say that he had revived her to stay. The fact he did at all, surprised her because aside from her, she knew it was something he didn't do very often or even at all] Wait, you revived her just like you did with me?

[Okay, so she kind of disliked her choice of wording there because it implied a similarity but along with that, she knew it also meant that Ned cared about the girl enough to go through with breaking the one minute revival rule and accepting the consequences so that she'd stay alive. Chuck just stood there, whatever she was thinking, it was hard to tell because even she wasn't sure at this point as she trying to process this. She didn't even know what to say either especially to hearing all of that but Ned was right about one thing though which was this definitely wasn't fair at all]

I know, I didn't. I can honestly say a swarm of feeling bees went right in to my head, paralyzing every thought of her momentarily. And it was just you, bliss and happy, swirly dizziness-- [He swirls his finger in the air, quite nervously to express his point.] --that wanted you safe from everything. But... the whole demon thing was making it harder. I wanted to keep my eyes on you, keep all the dangers away, and I forgot about her and then she--

[A sharp shake of the head.]

No, I don't mean to make excuses. I don't deserve to make one. I did something that I would only ever do for you and Digby, I broke my own oath.

B... but... [Now a palm to his face, hushing the feeling that rises as he recognizes her tone. He doesn't want to experience this all over again, and that expression. It picks every coherent thought and shakes them into gooey gibberish.

But he knows. He knows he has to face this all over again, the inevitable consequence.]

I did. I revived her too, just like you, and... I plan to keep it that way. I'm sorry, Chuck.

You should have told me, hearing about her like this, it's just— [She wasn't sure what the right word for it was really. Hearing Ned's explanation, she did understand his reasoning for what he did but that didn't make her feel any better about the situation.

She selfishly liked the fact she was the one of the two exceptions to being brought back to life for good so the fact there was someone else it bothered her more than she'd like to admit to] I don't know, I guess it's a bit late for that but someone else still died instead, Ned.

[Obviously he knew that, she knew that he did but still it was something that happened too as a result. She paused for a few more moments before she continued speaking] ...What did you even tell her when brought her back?

I know.

[It's like he hardly has any other vocabulary available at the time. Sorry. I know. I'm sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. He hopes to phrase his explanation more carefully, but his panicked manner does reach logical thought. Everything is a rush to get past the pain and let the situation be clear and dandy again. That never happens right away, of course.]

I told her everything. She's alive, but can't touch me. I told her about you and... and that's it.

[So no, it wasn't everything.]

Everything but the details and...you told her about me too? [The former was something Chuck kind of expected since Ned had left out the consequences of being alive again in her case too but the latter, she guessed was because both her and Alayne were in the same situation, either way it was something she was still having difficulty coming to terms with.

It was almost ironic because not too long ago after Ned confessed to indirectly killing her father, she'd been wanting someone to talk to and tell her secrets too and though she was so close to doing that, she couldn't bring herself to it in the end. She wanted to keep the secret between just the two of them. It was what he'd said himself, wasn't it?

Well obviously that changed within the time she wasn't here. It still hurt and what made it worse was there was a lingering question that she felt like she knew the answer to already. She hesitated for a moment but she couldn't help but ask] You said she has family that's here, right? Do they know about it?

[The Pie Maker is practically dripping in irony.]

They really don't, but... I kinda hinted something "miraculous" happened? Just within a minute, I think this place is odd enough to find it slightly, ever-so-slightly convincing that things just happen.

[Now he's cringing. He's running low on things to say and it's just going to be another stream of "sorry, sorry, sorry." He's peeling the band-aid, slowly and under some hot water.]

I don't mind if you're mad, Chuck. I just don't want something else between us, not again.

Yeah, it does seem like something people wouldn't really question to much. [That's what made Chuck think that Alayne was lucky in that aspect. With the nature of this place the other girl didn't have to hide the fact she was alive to her family or the people around her like Chuck had to. It's not that she minded her circumstances much but sometimes she did wish things could be different.

Though was she even mad at him? Well sort of, but it's definitely a good sign hasn't just told him to leave] Well of course I'm mad at you, you should know why but I guess I do understand a little. So is this some sort of three way secret now then?

[What else to say?

...
...
He just heaves another sigh. His mind is big slob of brainless gooeyness; a mess.] Yes, but, uh, there wasn't much of a chance for you two to meet. I would say it would be good idea whenever she's feeling... better.

[And on that note, it inflicts a look of guilt on the Pie Maker's face, passing it on to Chuck. Now when he thinks back on it, it definitely ended up more grim than he expected. Tears and bewilderment, not much of a balance on joy.] She didn't really take the whole "alive again" thing very well.

[Chuck didn't have much else to say on the matter either, since it still something she was trying to get used to at this point]

I'd like that. Meeting her, whenever that is. [Between hearing the rest of that along with seeing the look on Ned's face stop her for a moment] She didn't? Well being alive again like that after dying isn't exactly an everyday thing.

[He tries his best to smooth the expression out, but it sticks like glue. Not kindergarten glue either, but legit, I'm-not-coming-off-by-choice glue.]

It isn't... I... just never really saw anyone react that way. It was just...

["Horrible" doesn't even cut it.]

[She looks at him for a moment, with a sympathetic look on her face as she hears his response] It was that bad?

[He finally shifts his attention back to her, keeps his gaze steady as his body can bear.]

Drowning in a painful death and just being pulled out of the water like that. Not at all, Chuck.

Right, of course... [She kind of winced at that, okay so maybe it wasn't the best thing to ask] Well I guess it'll just take some time.

It will.

[Silence.]

I really am sorry to put this on you, right now, like this. I'm not asking for forgiveness, but you should know. Time has not been good to us, so all of this is like waking up from a short nap that turns around to be a month long. I acted on impulse, as I had with you. We know how hard it is to let things go.

So...

[So?

Another dead end.]

[Doesn't matter that there are demons on this ship, that passengers have been warned to hide away in some safe place until the good guys drive all the bad ones away and save the passengers who're oppressed in their own bodies, deprived of freedom, peace of mind, sleep, and so on. But as mentioned, that doesn't really matter right now. Not to Dirk.

He feels the desperate need to just be up and doing something, even if that involves nothing in particular at all, and that's because he doesn't really understand how his feelings went from powerlessness over losing someone to utter confusion. Sure, Magneto might just be the kind of guy who's all about not being oppressed and stuff like that, but Dirk doesn't see why he'd hurt Alayne. (And while Magneto seems determined to take the blame, there's no shortage of people who question the accusations and vouch for his inculpability.) But then he's met with the fact that Alayne had somehow survived--not that there's anything wrong with that, only that the pieces don't quite match up.

Dirk can't quite cope with this ridiculously extreme mood shift from self-blame and insufficiency to simply confounded, though he'll never admit that this is the case.

It's with his usual ninja stealth and elusiveness that he presses through the kitchen doors and notices someone else inside. Great. Not bothering to verify who the hell's with him, he--]

Christo, [--deadpans, waiting to see black smoke or clouds and shit to start wafting or pouring or whatever the hell they do.]

[Oh! That's definitely startling enough for the Pie Maker to slam his head into the nearest cupboard, resulting in an audible and blunt "ow." Not really a puff of smoke, but a tall figure turning while soothing his painful, soon to be bruise. He doesn't look quite pleased, but his expression brightens as soon as he realizes who it is. A friend, and it's immediately forgiven.]

Um. Poof? [Using his hand to make a tiny impression of an explosion. You got him, Dirk.]

[Whoops. That had to hurt. As luck would have it, a friend is here. Turns out to be Chief Baker-Wonder Chef Ned. Not possessed.

Okay, cool. If it were any other way, things would've gotten ugly.

With that line of business out of the way, Dirk scans the kitchen for some grub. He can't imagine that Ned's already made a banquet. Not in this atmosphere. Though he'd definitely deserve props for that shit.]

Hey man. What are you doing out here? Thought they'd warned everyone to hide in their rooms and sit tight, hold off getting and making our sandwiches. And bathroom privileges? [He shakes his head gravely and twitches his lips into the slightest frown to indicate disapproval.] Anyway, I'm getting carried away.

I'm... ye-uh...

["I'm ye-uh," he says.]

Just getting those... anti-demon... things.

[The facts were these: Long moments before the Pie Maker had an unwanted bump with the cupboard not full of "anti-demon things," he had a painfully lengthy conversation with Chuck about things he would much rather let go. Friends reviving and new secrets bloomed, the Pie Maker felt drawn to the kitchen for space and perhaps comfort in the delicate touch of baked goods. But alas, his motivation died the moment he stepped into the room. Instead, he spent these next long moments alone in thoughts, despite being the last place he desired to be.

And here we are, now rubbing his head and blinking at the boy looking for food that simply did not exist.]

Wait, hold on. Couldn't I say the same for you?

About getting anti-demon things? Can't say I'd been planning on getting any. [Finding counters and tables are mostly bare, Dirk pokes his head into the fridge.] Guess my evasion skills have so far prevented unpleasant run-ins.

[But there's nothing of much interest in there, either. Shutting the door, he turns to take a studious look at Ned.]

So, did you find what you were looking for? Unless it's run out or something, I doubt it should've taken too long.

That's not what I mea...

[A small huff and the Pie Maker is already letting it go. Already in one unsought situation, he doesn't want to start another. Especially with one who has a right to be concerned. With the quick shake of his head, he heaves a sigh. Sigh after sigh, he just might die faster if he keeps this on.]

No, I wasn't really looking for anything, I was just... I... I wanted a moment alone in here, that's all. Despite the whole lurking demonic funny clouds, I find it calming.

Kinda like the first time we met, plus some crazy demon takeover and minus the banquet. [He nods.] Naw, I get that.

[The warnings indicated that demons couldn't cross boundaries of salt. Maybe he could find some to seal off the kitchen while Ned took a little "me" time. For himself. Yeah.]

Nothing wrong with alone time. [Might as well start searching. Dirk slowly heads to the cabinets to start his search, chooses some cabinets that aren't too close to Ned in case he's feeling uncomfortable.] People need that once in a while. But it'd be good to set up some precautions. Wouldn't want you going awol on us, you know?

[As it was, they'd nearly lost Alayne, and Dirk didn't really know her that well. He's not sure about Ned, about how many others knew about this guy or if there was anyone else from his world aboard the ship. But the point is that Dirk knows him, and he's discovering firsthand the dangers of getting to know other people, even if they aren't from the game.]

If there's any way to prevent it, I mean.

[That understanding deserves the Pie Maker's smile, brushing slightly aside the lump of anxieties he could argue takes form in a "lurking demonic funny cloud."

But, of course, it will always come crawling back in the form of his awkward and uncomfortable posture.]

You can never be too sure what's going to happen around here. Some days I feel like I stepped right on the set of something... science-fiction. I always wanted to be a Jedi, not a space prisoner. So, we can see that's not really working out.

It might look that way now-- [Dirk shakes his head as he moves from one cabinet to the next because, dammit, there's gotta be some salt around here. It's a fucking kitchen.] --but you never know. If it does turn out that this is an intergalactic concentration camp, then the tyrants who brought us here aren't doin' it right.

[Aaaaand he's found salt in one of the cabinets. To Dirk's relief, it's NOT in one of those stupidly small shakers with such tiny holes rendering it nearly impossible to shake salt out. With that, he heads to the kitchen doors to pour out some salt lines.]

Because they've given us ample time and freedom to hire personal bodyguards or trainers or whatever else we want. You may still have the opportunity to discover the way of the Jedi yet.

[Watching Dirk from the distance, he beings to tap on the few cooking instruments set on the table. Nonrhythmic—just tapping. Perhaps try to knock awake his will to make something, but...

His stomach is already an oven full of mushy baked goods.]

I'm not so sure, I think I would be fine without that. Just... a childhood dream. [Adding a small chuckle while reminded of a small memory. That duel with Fambing Woo's Civil War sword, Wilfred Woodruff VI, and cloaked in rich red curtain, the cloak to be Chuck's knight. What a crazy day that was.] Unless one of these demons want a sword fight, I think I would do just fine.

[The unsteady, off-beat of the non-rhythm makes Dirk's ears want to twitch. Hell, maybe they're already involuntarily twitching without his knowledge. But he continues with the salt, pouring a thick, white line at each door. He tunes out that unmetered shit and levels it with the background. Hopefully it isn't apparent that the noise kinda bothers him.]

But this is one of those places where dreams, childhood or otherwise, can become reality.

[Heh, childhood or otherwise. He vaguely wonders if people have been getting those dreams on, too. Maybe he should check--it's unlikely anyone would find out, right? Anyone other than the thought police or whatever mechanism records every little detail of the passengers' lives. Dirk's pretty sure there's gotta be something like that aboard.

Eh hem. Got a lil' off track there.]

Are you saying you wouldn't be fine with a sword fight? 'Cause I could help you out a little with that one, man.

I've done alright before, childhood practicing definitely had it's use, but something about one with... one of those things seems unfair.

[And he stops, forcing his anxiety to take a chill pill and settle down. Now he's paying attention to his breathing, attempting to control it. Of course, as for many, that never works out. He leads his attention wander to a few insignificant things to straighten the course, his eyes following along the curve of the white line.

Now... how is that supposed to work? Would their feet sizzle and turn these creatures into a harmless cripple?]

Are you saying you are familiar with swinging around a sword?

Well, people have to start somewhere, right? Might be a little unfair, but that's just part of the challenge.

[If Ned were to ask how the thing with the salt would actually work, Dirk honestly wouldn't have any idea. Maybe they could dial back to those thoughts and share a laugh over it because Ned just said some magic words right now. He is talking to a renaissance ninja and flashstep puppeteer. He's got his stealthy, sneaky ways and handles swords and puppets alike with all the grace of the sick wickedest amazing dude there ever was. Yeah.]

But yeah, I'm familiar with wielding a sword. [He's amended the wording because wielding infers more than just swinging willy-nilly. There's a sense of control, power, and precision that goes into wielding; it's something more than just swinging. What he can do with a sword goes well beyond child's play--he can seriously wreck all the shit in the blink of an eye.

Whoops, getting a little sidetracked there.] How 'bout you? Childhood practicing is one thing, but you make it sound like this awesome thing that you chose to abandon.

[Swinging, just his natural assumption. With their age gap, Ned can only hope he is among the few who can be defined as a normal kid (Correction: When he says "the few," there are actually aren't any).

Then again, he's been dealing with kids who changed their identity, another that aims to kill another man, and one that just imitates him so much despite her age.

Tranquility—why are you doing this?]

Well, more like... fooling around, I was pretty young. And you know, how imaginations are. A lot has happened, so I settled on pie making, it seemed more plausible.

[A pause.]

Doesn't mean I'm unwilling to pick up a fight if something happens. I have someone I need to keep safe.

[Man, does Dirk know all about fooling around. When you're one of earth's last two remaining humans and trapped in a formerly skyrise apartment just peeking over the water in a submerged Houston, everything is considered fooling around. Even the serious things. That's why Dirk happens to be a cool kid who takes all his fooling around quite seriously.]

Yeah, I guess so. [He doesn't sound especially convinced but accepts the part about imagination or whatever.

That brief pause is enough for Dirk to finish the salt lines and turn examine Ned before he speaks again, and Dirk turns the man's words in his mind and considers.]

So you want someone to train you, or maybe a sparring partner or whatever?

[That... would be interesting. Could take a bit of time to make it happen, but it might actually be a thing here if that's what his bro Ned is getting at.]

Train me?

[The idea floats in his head. Shakes up a bit. Rolls around. Settles. And rolls again.

Training? Sparring partner? He thinks the idea as funny, yet he doesn't laugh. Not even a chuckle. It's a subtle liking for the idea, an acceptance he pats down and tries to believe. He could actually use the help. One friend already fell he might have prevented, so who is to say Chuck won't be threatened next? It would be easier protecting her. He can't exactly believe throwing a pie in a creature's face or at any other unpreventable threat would be effective. He's not a clown, he's a man.

Oh good god, it would just be helpful. The Pie Maker needs to simplify his thoughts.]

That... would actually be great.

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A World of Consequences. CLOSED.

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