anyway. he's quiet, a second longer, the words tangled up in his throat. ]
This. The fucking prism. [ he waves, vaguely, out at the land around them. ] At least I'm already dead.
[ and vax more than knows that that's irrational. he knows how fate works. he knows, maybe even more so, that percy would've been the prime target for this sort of hellhole. he knows.
.. but he knows even more that this is not percy's string of fate. ]
[they sound like they have a mild disagreement with this. not judgmental, just kind of a gentle 'not so sure about that one, friend.']
...It seems like you have a habit of offering your life for the people you care for. One of these days, someone's going to get mad at you for offering someone you already promised someone else.
[however.]
I would say it would be better if this had happened to nobody, while we're proposing things that didn't happen.
[ amazingly, that gets a tiny huff of a laugh out of him, though it's mostly humorless. ]
If you put her up against this place, I think she'd win.
[ and sitting here like this, vax... misses her, actually. he misses the presence of the raven queen, the contradictory warmth and chill that comes from death, the death that he knows. he could pray to her, here - has, even - but nothing would happen.
he reaches up to put his free hand over his heart, on that raven mark. ]
... yeah. [ softer. he agrees that, too. ] Maybe thats why I showed up here, after all.
[ because this place is unnatural. it breaks fates too early, it blocks out her presence and destroys things in time. it's not right. maybe it's a purpose - a reedy, terrible, unsteady purpose, but it's a purpose. ]
[ his job as her champion, really. it is at least something to talk about, though grief of memory tugs at the edge of that, too. ] Accept the beauty of life and the sanctity of death, and thus vow to rid the world of undeath and those who would disrupt the natural balance of the cycle of life.
This place is disrupting it.
[ after all, vax knows that this isn't percy's time. he's seen percy's future. ]
he reaches up, running both hands over his head and holding them, finally pushing his head down with the motion. it's jittery, stilted. ]
I don't - I don't know, Shale.
[ of course he doesn't. he doesn't know anything - doesn't have any reason why he was brought here, nothing he can cling to, no purpose for why. just another long, dark path to stumble down, fraught with disaster and despair, with the death of someone vax would call his brother that shouldn't have happened.
his i don't know is genuine in its distress. ] I don't know.
[they say it gently, though. even if they disagree, it's gentle.]
She wanted you as her champion for a reason. You're brave, and you're stubborn, and you fight tooth and nail for what you think has to happen. [...] You saved your sister's life, and you've saved others, too.
Sometimes, though, it's out of your hands. There isn't a reason, there wasn't a way for you to fix it, there isn't something you can do to stop it. Even for a Champion of the Raven Queen. Even for the Raven Queen herself. Fate is going to do what fate is going to do, regardless of your input.
Accepting that is one of the most difficult things for any of us, but especially for someone like you. Fate has always had plans for you.
[ it always comes down to that, doesn't it? fate. fate touched, she'd called him, even then.
grief is a circular staircase. sometimes it feels like vax is climbing it, like he's made it to the top - like he understands all of the bigger meanings of his life and all of its losses - but sometimes, he's just down at the bottom again, scrabbling frantically for purchase as the mire of his own thoughts threaten to suck him back in. without vex'ahlia here (and now, percy, something of a tether to the reality and the life he left behind, a promise made to protect that he failed) it feels like he's adrift.
shale's voice is so calm. he listens, to everything they're saying, and takes another deep breath, exhaling loudly as he turns back to look at them. every word resonates. ]
... Thought I knew what that plan was.
[ there's a crack to those words, a low, quiet vulnerability.
[ when he turns his head to look at them this time, the vulnerability is just blatantly open on his face. there's fear, there, for someone who is fearless. ]
...it's only ever going to be more questions, isn't it?
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What should have been?
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anyway. he's quiet, a second longer, the words tangled up in his throat. ]
This. The fucking prism. [ he waves, vaguely, out at the land around them. ] At least I'm already dead.
[ and vax more than knows that that's irrational. he knows how fate works. he knows, maybe even more so, that percy would've been the prime target for this sort of hellhole. he knows.
.. but he knows even more that this is not percy's string of fate. ]
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[they sound like they have a mild disagreement with this. not judgmental, just kind of a gentle 'not so sure about that one, friend.']
...It seems like you have a habit of offering your life for the people you care for. One of these days, someone's going to get mad at you for offering someone you already promised someone else.
[however.]
I would say it would be better if this had happened to nobody, while we're proposing things that didn't happen.
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If you put her up against this place, I think she'd win.
[ and sitting here like this, vax... misses her, actually. he misses the presence of the raven queen, the contradictory warmth and chill that comes from death, the death that he knows. he could pray to her, here - has, even - but nothing would happen.
he reaches up to put his free hand over his heart, on that raven mark. ]
... yeah. [ softer. he agrees that, too. ] Maybe thats why I showed up here, after all.
[ because this place is unnatural. it breaks fates too early, it blocks out her presence and destroys things in time. it's not right. maybe it's a purpose - a reedy, terrible, unsteady purpose, but it's a purpose. ]
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[curious, prompting.]
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[ his job as her champion, really. it is at least something to talk about, though grief of memory tugs at the edge of that, too. ] Accept the beauty of life and the sanctity of death, and thus vow to rid the world of undeath and those who would disrupt the natural balance of the cycle of life.
This place is disrupting it.
[ after all, vax knows that this isn't percy's time. he's seen percy's future. ]
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[shale sounds skeptical of this.]
The fact that people die before the time you believe they're supposed to die doesn't sound like a disruption to me. It sounds like death.
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he reaches up, running both hands over his head and holding them, finally pushing his head down with the motion. it's jittery, stilted. ]
I don't - I don't know, Shale.
[ of course he doesn't. he doesn't know anything - doesn't have any reason why he was brought here, nothing he can cling to, no purpose for why. just another long, dark path to stumble down, fraught with disaster and despair, with the death of someone vax would call his brother that shouldn't have happened.
his i don't know is genuine in its distress. ] I don't know.
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[they say it gently, though. even if they disagree, it's gentle.]
She wanted you as her champion for a reason. You're brave, and you're stubborn, and you fight tooth and nail for what you think has to happen. [...] You saved your sister's life, and you've saved others, too.
Sometimes, though, it's out of your hands. There isn't a reason, there wasn't a way for you to fix it, there isn't something you can do to stop it. Even for a Champion of the Raven Queen. Even for the Raven Queen herself. Fate is going to do what fate is going to do, regardless of your input.
Accepting that is one of the most difficult things for any of us, but especially for someone like you. Fate has always had plans for you.
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grief is a circular staircase. sometimes it feels like vax is climbing it, like he's made it to the top - like he understands all of the bigger meanings of his life and all of its losses - but sometimes, he's just down at the bottom again, scrabbling frantically for purchase as the mire of his own thoughts threaten to suck him back in. without vex'ahlia here (and now, percy, something of a tether to the reality and the life he left behind, a promise made to protect that he failed) it feels like he's adrift.
shale's voice is so calm. he listens, to everything they're saying, and takes another deep breath, exhaling loudly as he turns back to look at them. every word resonates. ]
... Thought I knew what that plan was.
[ there's a crack to those words, a low, quiet vulnerability.
after all of that, vax just feels lost. again. ]
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[a hand pressed firm on his back. stone, but calming in a way.]
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...it's only ever going to be more questions, isn't it?
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[gentle still.]
Maybe someday they might start having better answers.