savetheearth | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Alexander & Reilanin
When: February 25th, Tuesday, late morning
Where: Reilanin's apartment
What: Alex be stressin'.
Warnings: Aaangst.

A mess. That was the state of Alex's mind as he sat in the living room of Reilanin's apartment, hunched over his knees, head held in his hands. His thoughts were a writhing mess of anger and horror, and his heart constricted with regret and fear. He'd no idea Ravindra would have reacted so venomously to Alex's desire to leave -- to flee, really -- hadn't considered how his decision might be lumped in with all of Ravindra's exes. He hadn't considered much of anything, honestly, other than the insidious fear that had taken root after Ravindra attributed his actions against David Proud as an Echo alteration of his very personality.

His very identity.

The very aspect of Echoes that Alex feared the most.

He couldn't stay. He couldn't stay with a person who pinned a death he caused on something he couldn't prove, but he couldn't stay with a person who might have genuinely represented what frightened him the most.

Two arguments: the first of Proud's death and the second of leaving. He left Ravindra with the beginning of the rent money he intended to pay back in full -- eventually -- and then it all went to shit. Ravindra had thrown his best blame game and top notch passive aggression at him, but it was the physical action of stopping him from leaving and the accusation that Alex never took his worries seriously that drove Alex to do what he was currently regretting -- trance Ravindra and leave.

He'd done it in the heat of the moment, temper flaring, everything -- but that didn't excuse him and he knew that. He knew that, but he didn't want to return. He was still frightened by the notion that Echoes could and would change the core identity of someone. Had it already happened to him? Would he be able to tell?

And oh, those lovely Echoes, they told him he'd done this before. He -- or rather, the person he once was -- had fed from Ravi and had tranced him after Ravi had shown resistance. It didn't matter that Ravi had initially allowed him, or that Alex had regained his senses before it was too late -- it was confirmed. Alex was capable of that heinous act -- had almost done it once already when they returned to Locke -- and had hypnotized someone -- Ravi! -- purely for his own gain.

He wanted to cry.

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Things had been quiet on her end. Willingly, perhaps. Even with the panic that had pushed up on seeing Randolph's message when she'd returned from her father's house, it had settled back into a slightly uncomfortable calm when no echo had come with it. Were the two of them truly so different? He came from a place of community, of order and hierarchy- she had received nothing but instances of chaos and loneliness and selfishness. Things he experienced, words he used, they meant very little to her except the very basic concept of a werewolf. And even that, it seemed, had wiggle room. Shifting before the full moon... it was only the lack of pulsation to accompany the thought that made her feel safe that it would not happen to her.

She was loathe to shatter that fragile quiet. On return, the effects of Nick's blood hadn't yet cycled out of her system. A few days to think on things before her hearing sharpened and her sense of smell heightened. What part did she want in this? What did she honestly think she could do?

She'd gone out shopping that morning. With some good rest packed on she felt better than she had, and that overwhelming energy had seen her up earlier than usual. The cold was welcome as she walked to and from the store, and it dampened her sense of smell- Alexander's presence went initially unnoticed as she opened the door, shoving it with her shoulder and closing it with her foot, walking to the counter to put her bags down. She sniffed, walking back to the entrance to slide her boots off, taking a detour towards the bathroom to go blow her nose when she noticed Alexander sitting there.

Oh. Alexander was sitting there.

She didn't even think about it until she was in the bathroom, scarf partly unwound and a few squares of toilet paper bunched up against her nose, that she realized that wasn't quite right. She backed up, eyes wide.

"What are you doing here??" she asked, surprised more than anything. "How did you-" Ah, she cut herself off quickly. She'd had a key cut for him in case he'd wanted to get out of the apartment for a bit. "Nevermind. Did you call? I must have missed it, sorry..."

He didn't budge, listening to Reilanin's movements as if there was a thin wall between them. He was torn between wanting to be completely alone and wishing for comfort.

"I didn't," he said, not lifting his head. "Sorry."

"Ah? Ah, all right. That's fine."

Did she sound reassuring? She meant to be. She wasn't used to having people over, despite her offer to let him stay. She'd assumed there would be a call or something before he did, but- not the first thing on his mind, by the looks of it.

Another sniff and she went back into the bathroom to wipe her nose properly, hanging her scarf and jacket up on the back of the bathroom door before coming back out. She hesitated, wiping her hands, still chilled, on her thighs.

"...do you... ah, do you want some coffee?"

She couldn't really ask 'is everything all right?' because clearly something was not, but she didn't feel entirely comfortable asking him right out what that something was. Oh, but would he volunteer it? She hadn't asked on the phone, either... was living with Ravindra too much of a temptation? Or was it the opposite problem? Ravindra was a ... a paladin or something like that, wasn't he?

Unless it was something else. Her mind raced with possibilities and couldn't decide on just one. "I'll make some coffee." That was one less decision for either of them to make. She went back into the kitchen to put her little coffee machine on and put the groceries away, giving him a few more moments by himself to- to what? Pull himself together? sigh.

Edited 2014-02-24 05:52 (UTC)

Rather than an answer, he regarded the offer humorlessly. Coffee.

He rubbed his eyes, then pressed the butt of his palms against them until he saw stars. Then he leaned back into the seat and inhaled a controlled breath, eyes kept closed. The switch in position left him feeling exposed. He ended up hunched over again, elbows resting on his thighs.

Eventually, he croaked out, "I fucked up."

She heard it from the kitchen, ears figuratively perking up at the sound of his voice. She hesitated and shut the door of the fridge, gathering two mugs and pouring the coffee in. Did he want anything in it? She should have asked.

Well, it kept her hands busy. She walked back into the living room and put one black mug down on the coffee table, sitting down slowly across from him.

I fucked up. Not reassuring. She settled the mug in her lap. "...with Ravindra? Did you...?" she began to ask before letting it dwindle. She looked down briefly before back up, searching his face. No, it would do no good to skirt the subject. Especially not if he were to stay for an extended period of time.

"What happened?" she asked, softly, but steadily.

Offered hot chocolate by Banagher and coffee by Reilanin. His smile was faint and equally humorless.

Though he had opened the channel of communication, he found himself stalling to answer and struggling to come up with an answer. Alex was not someone who oftentimes laid himself bare. He was very open about surface-level issues and painfully reclusive about those deeper and closer to him -- as Ravindra had come to learn.

He inhaled deeply, trying to dispel the knot of anxiety in his stomach. He failed.

"I used my hypnosis on him." He folded one hand over the other, then shifted the next second to link his fingers together, thumbs pressing into his skin. "Forced him to let me leave."

Ah, she hadn't expected that. Hypnotism... yes, that was a fairly common vampiric trait, she thought to herself, sipping at her coffee and putting it back down. Too hot. She could feel the burn on her tongue already healing.

"...forced him to let you leave?" she asked after a moment, frowning. So... it wasn't the reason for leaving, which she'd assumed, but the reason for his present state of mind. A confrontation she imagined Alexander hadn't been willing to have... but she hadn't recalled Ravindra as being especially forceful himself.

Unless... unless it had something to do with what had happened with David Proud. She kept the thought to herself for the moment, waiting to hear what Alexander had to say.

He took his next breath in through his mouth, expelled it, and shook his head wearily. "We fought. Not... Not physically, but he just-- he was driving me up the wall and then he grabbed me and that was it. I lost my temper."

He didn't want to repeat the accusations that were thrown at him -- they'd made him livid then, but now they just made him feel sick.

She sat, leaning forward slightly, forearms resting on her knees. She reached up, rubbing the back of her neck, eyes drawn for a moment to the glass surface of the coffee table, books visibly scattered on the lower shelf. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Gogo come from somewhere further in the apartment- he had mentioned bringing the cat- and climb up to settle himself on top of her copy of Persuasion.

"Was it about Proud?" she asked, hands together again, thumb of one digging into the heel of the other. Ravindra hadn't seemed the same then, either, though Alexander's description of what had happened had been sparse in details as well.

She was catching on. Something had changed in Ravindra. It wasn't the physical changes, but the psychological ones. He'd spoken of it with her already, though he'd been mostly drunk at the time. Changes to their thought processes, to their personalities, warping what they considered right and wrong with no way to control it. Like Belief had for him before.

It was a struggle not to lift her hand to her mouth.

If anyone could understand the depths of Alexander's fear, it would be Reilanin. Belief was a horrid phenomenon to share.

"Kind of, yeah. Related." A brief pause as he recalled the first argument, minor compared to how this morning's had went, not quite keen on recalling it at all. "He said it was a pulse. A pulse that made him do it."

She kept to herself her fear that she did not understand enough how he felt and twisted her coffee cup on the surface of the coffee table, stopping with a frown at the noise it made, sharp in her ears.

"It doesn't make me feel any better to think this might be a continuation of that pulse... whatever it was."

She breathed in, held it, let it out with the slightest trace of a sigh. A pulse. Easy enough to put the blame on but living with it, knowing things weren't supposed to be like that-

"...what to do? All we can is to keep mindful of what those changes might be." She hesitated, twisting the glass again before remembering why she'd stopped doing that. "Being away for a little bit... it helped. I think I needed the time away. Perspective and all that when I got back. But I... I don't know. It's hard not to be afraid."

He wrung his hands together. Her answer rekindled his agitation, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly why. Mindful. Keep mindful of.

Echoes weren't like personal flaws you could change with enough effort and perseverance. Echoes were, until otherwise proven, permanent inside Locke City. There was no over-coming them. The best you could do was accept them.

For Alex, such a mindset was exceedingly defeatist, but undeniably true. That was why he despaired over what could be, why he forced himself to ignore the problem to avoid the despairing and the worrying. A solution didn't exist.

"Why didn't you stay away?" he eventually asked, risking a glance at her.

"...I'd just leave again," she said after a moment's consideration. "...maybe I wouldn't come back to Locke. Maybe I would. I wouldn't remember to stay away.

"And besides," she said with a deeper sigh, "who knows how far the limit is? It's only an hour's drive out of the city. And do we even know if it stays the same, or if it moves, or if it gets bigger? I'd like to think... I'd like to think my family would be safer this way."

Somewhere she could be aware, could still make her own decisions.

A small pause before she continued, "it didn't feel right, leaving without thinking to come back. To leave you behind."

His lips parted in an exhale that resembled a laugh. "To leave me behind," he echoed, clenching his fingers tighter. He relaxed them; his harsh smile fell. "I wouldn't hold it against you if you did."

He honestly wouldn't.

"I know," she said gently. She did. "I wouldn't either. I wondered the same for you when you came back." And things had only gotten worse since then.

She looked at him a moment, studying his face, bit her lower lip briefly. He'd already said he wouldn't go down the same road as before, but there was a flutter of uncertainty accompanying the thought.

"It seems silly now, doesn't it? What I said before. About... about retaining ourselves. Who we are. If I'd stayed away, I would never have noticed, but coming back, even with how disjointed things are, this is... this is how it is. I don't know why, or how... I don't know what I'll be able to accomplish, and God knows I'm scared everytime I get another pulse... I never know what the next thing will be.

"...just seems so stupidly naive, what I said before."

He shook his head. "We were all like that. I was like that." He smirked. "I remember-- I remember wanting a pulse, thinking, 'Hey! These kids are getting cool powers, maybe I'll get something cool, too.' "

He shook his head again, then threw his head back against the seat and threw his hands up with a frustrated groan. "Fucking dumbass."

His hands dropped back down to his sides. He stared bleakly at the ceiling.

"What can we do, Reilanin? What can we do."

She was silent while he stared at the ceiling, looking at him and then down to the cat lounging under her coffee table. She leaned over a little and tapped her nails on the glass. Gogo's ead shot up and stared fixedly at her hand and swiped a paw at the glass.

Meeting resistance, he stared a moment more, then went back to preening.

"Well, we're going to have to consider what to do when this goes public." Expression serious, she continued, "because it will- it has to. There are too many things happening, too many of us that- I know it's not good for us, but I just need to keep an eye out once a month, you keep low, it's not the worst when it comes to... to being found out, I suppose. We haven't got wings, or huge swords... or any number of other things that are popping up. Who knows what else people will get through pulses?"

Not the most reassuring thing, but maybe a small comfort. Maybe not, given that he'd already been found out once. She pressed her lips together as she thought.

"What do you need to do? Let's focus on that first."

When this goes public? He missed the words that followed, mentally fumbling over the possibility as eventual rather than potential. He'd gotten so used to secret-keeping, to thinking that hiding was the only feasible option if one chose to remain in Locke that hearing of another prompted him to change tracks.

Would it go public? He didn't know.

But it could.

Though still staring at the ceiling, the bleakness in his face melted away. His eyes darted back and forth, as if re-calibrating his entire thought process to include the possibility of exposure as an event to prepare for.

So obvious in hindsight. Another perspective had been sorely needed.

Reilanin had provided it.

He lowered his gaze, resting it on her. "I need to live." Brows furrowed, he glanced to the side, hand lifted torso-high. "Not- not survive. I've been surviving."

He looked at her again. "I need to live."

She'd fallen silent as he'd thought, unsure of what the quiet meant, leading her to nervously pick up her cup and sip at it without really tasting anything. The idea of exposure frightened her, of course. Her memories- or whatever they were- did not lead her to believe being a werewolf was a welcome thing. She wasn't entirely convinced pitchforks and fire weren't a possibility in her future.

Watching his face steadily, she could see the change, and she held her breath a moment, wondering if something was wrong. The cup went back down onto the tabletop, fingers resting on the lip of it nervously.

The words made her pause, almost wary, but the conviction as he continued, repeated himself, made her be the one to look away briefly, then nod as she looked back.

"Yeah. I think that's a good place to start."

She stretched as she sat up, having been leaning over her cup. She sighed, sitting back. It was still early in the morning, and there wasn't any reason to put off any of the chores she'd been planning on doing.

"Well, like I said. You're welcome to stay here. Figure out what you need to do." She reached up, rubbing at her cheek. "What about, ah- what about your supply? There's room in the fridge, but..."

He grimaced and looked away. There wasn't much of it left.

"I don't need a lot of room," is what he said instead, glancing at the refrigerator. His eyes traveled over to the sink. "I don't- don't have a lot in the bank right now, but, um. Cleaning up, anything I can help with-- I'll do it."

"If you need any from me, ask." Put bluntly, she looked at him in all seriousness as she said it. It was a safety precaution as much as anything. He didn't want to talk about it- neither did she, really. But she'd rather offer than have the choice taken from her.

No knives would be involved this time, though.

She hummed and looked around. Not to say that it was sparse, but... her apartment was certainly minimal. Light, airy colours, a nice but fairly typical one-bedroom in terms of layout. A plant. A clock ticking somewhere in the background. The television she hadn't turned on in almost a week.

"Maybe you could start by cooking one of those steaks I just bought for me," she said after a moment, ruefully. "I'm still not very good at cooking meat."

At the command, his eyes snapped to Reilanin, wide and uncertain. Her suggestion to cook her lunch (or a late breakfast?) muted some of that uncertainty, took away some of the focus. Still...

She needed to live, too.

"Sure," he finally said, voice betraying some of his distraction as he rose from the couch. What followed was a return to normalcy in tone as Alex pushed the offer (command) to the side, unwilling to focus too deeply on it right now. "Luckily, I happen to have been raised on a ranch." He glanced down at her, the corners of his lips twitching with the hint of a smile. "Not knowing how to cook a steak the right way would've got me disowned."

She watched him, looked back down to the table and poked a toe into Gogo's backside, receiving only a flick of an ear in response. Yes, steaks were common enough but blood was another issue altogether. And it wasn't something she wanted to make a habit of- nevermind the act, she only imagined that it would exacerbate her own problems if done too frequently.

But she was better off, she had to believe.

She lifted her head again and found herself smiling. "Six months ago I never would have said this, but it seems a fine skill to have."

Encouraged by her own, his hint of a smile blossomed into a fully-fledged one.

What begun as an awful, horrid day had surprisingly taken a turn for the hopeful. There was still good among the bad. It was the former he had to cling to lest he be swept away by the latter.

With new and much needed resolve, he went into the kitchen to cook her meal.

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