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[steepwithdead]

"Oh, hey."

| voice | video | text | action |

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text || un: rockstar

[tillimgone]

you're the guy with the breathing techniques, right? because if you are i could really use some solid advice, because the breathing thing has been great.

[steepwithdead]

Yes, that's me. Caduceus. This is Till, yes?

[tillimgone]

oh shit, yeah forgot to say who i was. yeah.

so remember i told you about that dead friend? well... he's here and alive and i need some serious advice.

[steepwithdead]

Ah. [Goodness gracious is the word. Not that revivals are unheard of where he's from, of course, but he does know it's unusual. There's many reasons his home is full of occupied graves rather than empty ones.] I can imagine you're feeling quite a lot right now.

[tillimgone]

yeah... a lot of them. so like, here's the main problem. we don't communicate well and it feels worse than ever since we arrived and there's a lot of emotions and hurt and all kinds of things making it worse. but he talks like logic and numbers and i talk emotions and colors. i want to find a middle ground.

[steepwithdead]

[Sure coming out of the gates swinging with this one.]

Are either of you good at compromise?

[tillimgone]

i'm willing to and i feel like he would be? we're both stubborn but i think we both want to... make this better, you know? we just keep hurting each other trying though

[steepwithdead]

Is this something you would prefer to settle one on one, or would having a mediator help?

[tillimgone]

you're oddly the second person to offer that. is that normal? to have people like mediate conversations like that?

[steepwithdead]

Normal enough that it's standard for peace treaties, I've come to understand. Plenty of people have trouble communicating in the same way. Sometimes it helps to have someone neutral who can step in and help both sides.

[tillimgone]

huh, okay cool. i'll bring it up to him and see if he's down.

it just feels like everytime we start to get somewhere we end up crashing and burning. i'm just really tired of fucking hurting him all the time. it feels like i can't do anything right. it pisses me off/

[steepwithdead]

I imagine things are still so raw for the both of you that talking about anything would feel difficult. It's going to take time before you're comfortable again. Death always leaves baggage and powerful emotions on both sides.

In what way are you hurting him?

[text] un: checkmate [post event]

[amurderofcrow]

Forgive how late this message is coming in, but I wanted to touch base with you.

Tell me that you are well.

[steepwithdead]

[Oh, the sigh of relief he breathes. Akechi beat him to the punch on this one, but he'd worried.]

Forgive me for not reaching out first. Still not so good with these devices.

I'm better now than I was. I might've preferred oblivion to the ghost experience, but it's good to breathe again.

How are you holding up?

1/2

[amurderofcrow]

Save your apologies. There's nothing to forgive. I'm only grateful that you're well.

As for me, I'm fine. I survived.

2/2

[amurderofcrow]

[And from there, something strange happens.

The little telltale ellipses that prove that Akechi is typing pop in and out, stopping for a few seconds before starting up before stopping again. It's clear the boy is typing paragraphs out and then deleting them, writing more than he'll ever send, struggling with just what he needs to say. But maybe ten minutes into this torture, Akechi finally hits send on something he deems acceptable.]

I have some experience with death.

And when Sumire returned from her own death, she felt some kind of ridiculous comfort in being able to speak about the experience with someone who understood.

So if this appeals to you in any sense, just say the word. I have the time.

[steepwithdead]

[Caduceus doesn't answer right away. In part because it's an offer that clearly took a lot of courage and debating to send at all; he waits a handful of minutes on his end to give Akechi the chance to delete it and pretend it was never sent, if he wishes.

And also in part because there is, in truth, a hefty amount of hesitation involved in burdening a child with his own internal conflict. It isn't his way. He carries his own troubles because they are so, so much lighter than everyone he knows. His life has been good, and quiet, and gentle. 90 years he lived so pleasantly. Only the last decade has been what he could call real hardship, and even that was sporadic and lonely more than traumatic until the year his father and 'Belle disappeared. He's been alright. Almost fine. This has... shaken him, but he will breathe deep in the garden, he will drink tea and pray, and he'll be alright again. He's always alright. This is a child. Adults shouldn't burden children.

Akechi's not a young child, though. By human standards he's grown; in Caduceus' world he could have married, even had a child by his age. Old enough to know what death feels like, to remember it, to share the experience and the feelings and thoughts attached with another. And... maybe, he too needs to talk about such things. One conversation, one moment, is never enough to cure a pain so deep. Grief for oneself is a strange feeling, and grief never fades in a singular day.

It's an offer to which he should give the respect that is owed. So with a quiet sigh, he types a simple response.]

I think I would like that very much.

[amurderofcrow]

[Ah. Akechi isn't so certain how that response makes him feel, more full of nerves than he thought possible, knowing that someone might trust him with something significant like this. The possibility of fucking up feels heavier than normal, but maybe that's because he legitimately cares about this person.]

Name the place and I shall meet you there.

[steepwithdead]

I've spent a lot of time in the garden, if that pleases you. I'll be there this afternoon, come whenever you're ready.

I've got Clarabelle with me, she won't fuss. But I can take her back to the stable if you'd prefer.

--> Action

[amurderofcrow]

Don't bother, her presence won't trouble me. I'll meet you there this afternoon.

[Perfect. Now Akechi has a few hours to just Panic over not knowing what the fuck he is doing.

But anxious in his own ability to navigate this kind of connection with another person or not, Akechi arrives as promised, seeking out Caduceus immediately, greeting the man with a nod.]

Clay-san.

[And even Akechi isn't prepared for the deep exhale he releases just seeing with his own eyes that this man is whole and healthy before him, not bleeding out into the dirt and cold.]

[steepwithdead]

[Always observant, Caduceus is quick to look up as Akechi approaches, smiling at him. Gentle as ever, his eyes are soft and sad, though masterfully toeing the line between shared sorrow and pity without crossing over to the latter. He's sitting in the sunlight, surrounded by the colours of the garden, a patch of gray and pastels.

The huge bulk of Clarabelle is curled up next to him, an outrageously large ball of cat. Caduceus is stroking the sleek black fur of her head, and at the sound of Akechi's footsteps, she lifts up briefly, blinks at him a few times, then rests her head back down again. (Predator recognizes another, perhaps. Or maybe the sunlight has just made her lazy.)]

Akechi. You look well, I'm very glad.

[His word choice is intentional; looking well and being well are very different things. And while his tone is (quite subtly) less robust than normal, he sounds so much stronger than the weak voice he'd used in his final moments.]

[amurderofcrow]

Why wouldn't I?

[He wasn't the one who died, after all.

But Akechi doesn't hesitate in settling across from Caduceus, sharp eyes running across the man's body - deliberately flicking over where he knows he'd been mortally wounded - but quietly avoiding the other's eyes.]

It must be even stranger for you than it is for me. To see the way the fae face no consequence for what they did. How they act as if nothing has changed.

[steepwithdead]

[Caduceus gives him a scrutinizing look for the first (likely rhetorical) question, though he doesn't respond directly. Why wouldn't he? Dying isn't the worst thing that can happen to a mortal being, not by far. And sometimes, being left alone is just as painful. Maybe even more so. He remembers some very dark days, after his whole family vanished. Wishing he'd gone with them, even if their fate was ultimately to perish, at least they'd be together.

He says nothing, at first. He's nearly always overdressed, layers and fabric covering most of his body, and today is no different. Whatever wounds or scars he might still carry from his death are hidden away.]

It's strange, maybe, but not surprising. They've already made it clear to us that our lives are their playthings, and we're replaceable. I think, rather, I'm surprised that they're not more bothered at the apparent mind control that drove them to kill. That's usually harder to do to fey creatures.

[amurderofcrow]

That has been on my mind as well. Though there's always the possibility they don't wish for us to see it. I hardly ever know when to take the fae for their word.

[The real answer, of course, is never.

Strange how Caduceus' soothing presence always seems to penetrate all of Akechi's inherent neuroticism, the boy all twitchy and anxious and unable to stop from digging his fingers into his legs as he sits there across from the man, but even still, his narrow shoulders slump with some relief. The pause isn't quite as comfortable as normal, so after only a moment or two, Akechi breaks the silence to continue.]

If something like that were to happen again, I'm better prepared this time.

[steepwithdead]

The fascinating thing about fae is that it's often the things they don't say, rather than what they do.

[They speak in half-truths, trapping mortals with words and omission. It's why giving them anything is so dangerous, even in a conversation meant to be courteous. Ask for a name, and suddenly it's gone. (And with it, apparently, the memories of one's mother, an unspoken penalty of a deal thought acceptable at the moment of exchange.)]

I'm sure we'll be more prepared next time. The trouble is when they throw a situation at us that we have yet to predict. [He exhales slowly, catching himself even as he finishes.] I'm sorry, that's too cynical. You're right, we need to better prepare ourselves, and not become resigned or complacent.