How This Grace Thing Works
| How This Grace Thing Works | |
|---|---|
| Date of Scene: | 24 February 2016 |
| Location: | Nephrite's Palace |
| Synopsis: | After Zoisite's Escalation, Nephrite sweeps him and Mamoru off to safety. Where the three of them have a moment to recover, and to try to remember parts of their old equilibrium, and to start trying to find a new one that might be more stable than the old. Also to cheerfully be jerks at each other, because how else do you do that anyway? |
| Cast of Characters: | Mamoru Chiba, Nephrite, Zoisite |
Mamoru Chiba has posed:
The teleportation is nowhere near as dark and terrible as it had been in the Dark Kingdom: no pervasive biting cold, no screaming hungry hatred beyond the bubble of shielding that the enactor's personal energy provides... but it's also not as instant, it's not as reflexive.
Despite the relative goodness of the experience in comparison to evil teleports, the girl sandwiched between the two Shitennou scrambles and slithers and pries to get free of them in a desperate hurry. Zoisite isn't roughly dumped on Nephrite, per se, but it also isn't any more gentle than urgent speed will allow. As soon as she's disentangled, she half-stumbles, half-runs into the low foliage surrounding them.
Judging by the sounds that issue forth from the shrubbery, any fears Endymion is rejecting them should be quickly laid to rest-- and any prayers sped their Prince's way that he dehenshined prior to losing his lunch would be gratefully accepted. After all, "Minori's" hair is long and unbound and no one's holding it.
He'll... be back in a minute. To check on poor Zoisite. And... yeah, definitely a minute. Or so.
Nephrite has posed:
For Nephrite, the teleportation is like bursting into a sprint. A sharp and sudden exertion of power, a rush that is almost enjoyable. The reflexive, almost thoughtless way that he could teleport with dark energy may have been faster, but like this he actually feels his natural powers working, flexing their "muscles." Teleporting to his palace is like turning to swim with the current, the place opening up to pull him in the moment he thinks of it.
And so he is rather surprised when "Minori" apparently does not share his enthusiasm for the journey. "Are you..." he begins to ask, but she's already vanished into the shrubs before he can finish, and the sounds that follow indicate why. Whether this was brought on by the toll of healing Zoisite, or something else, Nephrite will just have to wait until she's finished ralphing all over the ferns to find out.
In the meantime, he is left with a Zoisite in his arms. Freshly torn from the darkness that infected him, frantic and terrified as an injured bird. "You're safe," Nephrite soothes him. "This place is mine. You're safe here."
The sunset retreats a little, the sky lighting up into a brighter blue as the sun shifts back up to shine through the autumnal leaves. The stars may be hidden, but it's warmer, more inviting. They have landed a little way's away from the quartered blue sandstone circle. Random totem animals, enormous and carved from wood or black slate, peek out from between trees and shrubs, many of them heavily overgrown with moss. Rope bridges crisscross overhead. "She can't get you anymore," Nephrite mutters softly above his ear. "We've got you."
Zoisite has posed:
Preemptively laid to rest, given what 'Minori' just did. Zoisite is in neither condition nor mood to resist his own transfers, from place to place or person to person. His limp little boneless sprawl is far from a heavy weight, particularly by Nephrite's standards. It's still more solid than the last time. For the first time in his memory of this life, Zoisite is wholly flesh and bone again, entirely human rather than merely looking so.
He's breathing as if he weren't entirely certain he remembered how. That isn't the transformation per se. That's just the Escalation. Steadier and steadier as he gains practice, till Nephrite's second-to-last sentence wins a breathy little laugh. "Optimist."
Apparently Zoisite's worries about not being still himself on the far side were a little unfounded.
"I am not making a habit out of this," he asserts a moment later. And then, flickering from topic to topic still in a half-daze, "Why do you have more plants than me? How did that happen?" Mild indignation: the best possible sign that he's adjusting fast.
Mamoru Chiba has posed:
There's rustling in the ferns a moment after the prince's stomach's violent objection to having contents is heard and his dignity (what was left of it) is overruled, and then tall Mamoru comes schlepping out, looking even more pale than he has been. A little greyish, even. Jeans, t-shirt: nothing like Nephrite's suit, and thank god not that poor abused school uniform he probably slept in for a couple of months. "Sorry," he mutters in a rough voice, "don't know what happened, there."
Capping the bottle of water he probably pulled from his subspace pocket, he vanishes it just as easily. He falls to his knees in the grass next to Nephrite and Zoisite, then reaches over to smooth Zoisite's hair away from his face. "He doesn't have more plants than you. His are just taller. Foliage imitates stature."
It's said completely straight-faced as the black-haired boy sits back on his heels, and the straight-face is one he turns to Nephrite to establish his "innocence" -- but then he's crossing his arms and pulling his t-shirt sleeves down kind of uselessly, restless and chilly. His voice is low and tight. "They got out of there. Left a few seconds after we did. I checked. And yeah, okay, optimism-- in here she can't get us. But the minute the shit really hits the fan, we're going to help the girls take her down. We're going to get Kunzite back, even if we have to use Mercury's emergency backup plan. That crap got cleared out of our heads, and Moon's backing me, and I'm backing you, and I'm not letting Beryl fucking take you away from me again."
Nephrite has posed:
Nephrite raises his eyebrows at Mamoru. After he got escalated, he got Makoto holding him and petting him and telling him it was going to be okay. Apparently Zoisite gets to go straight to marching orders. "Well of course we're not. We didn't all go through that hell just to go right back again. But we've got like, at least five minutes in here to rest up, right?"
He puts a hand on Mamoru's arm, just as steady and reassuring as when he had been carrying them both only minutes before. "We will do this. We've got Zoisite. We have Jadeite. We have a plan. But we're not doing it right after you tossed your cookies in the bushes. So come sit down and let's all look at my tall plants for a while."
Zoisite has posed:
Zoisite's sprawl goes less boneless for a moment, giving him just enough anchorage to push the side of his head against Mamoru's hand like an oversized cat. He turns his head a moment later and repeats the gesture, this time against Nephrite's shoulder. After that, apparently, the hell with this physical motion thing; he relaxes again -
And, oddly, relaxes further after Mamoru's rundown. As if those marching orders were letting up on the pressure, rather than increasing it.
He doesn't say anything out loud. But the half-closed eyes, and the little smile he develops after 'come sit down,' is enough ... or would've been enough, once. Translatable, once, as 'you took the weight off my shoulders, now listen to Nephrite and think about putting some of it down yourself for a couple of minutes.'
Okay, he almost doesn't say anything out loud.
"What he said. You're freezing."
Mamoru Chiba has posed:
"...no," grants Mamoru to Nephrite, somewhat smaller, forcing some sheepishness into his voice, "we're not doing it right now. We have more than five minutes."
This he says as he slides sideways from sitting on his heels, and pulls his arms into his shirt and leans against them both. "I really don't feel good. Sorry. It's not like it's winter in here, I don't know why I'm cold-- though I can tell you for sure I don't want to teleport again if it feels like that."
A pause, and he eyes Zoisite sidelong. "Are you feeling okay? I'm whining about teleporting and you just had to get put back together from your constituent parts."
Nephrite has posed:
Nephrite resigns himself to being the resident pillow. One arm still supporting Zoisite, the other snakes around Mamoru. He brushes the back of his hand over Mamoru's forehead, mimicking Mamoru doing the same for Zoisite only moments ago. "The last time you rode out an escalation with someone, you were here, right? Using the power of this place? Maybe doing that outside was harder on you. Or..." he contemplates. "It's the teleportation that gets to you?" It only occurs to him because in that instant, he has a very strong desire to tease Mamoru about it. Like this is something that has come up often. But maybe Mamoru, who he is only just barely getting to know, doesn't need teasing right now. Better to tuck that one away for later. "It's worth testing that, when we're not so concerned about an imminent fight for our lives."
Zoisite has posed:
Zoisite slides sideways in turn, across Nephrite and toward Mamoru -- leaving him sprawled loosely across both of them. Possibly he is selflessly being a human blanket for the cold one. More likely he is simply demanding to occupy as many people as possible. "I am finally," he informs Mamoru, "not supposed to be the person who knows what needs to happen next. Almost nothing in the world could possibly be wrong right now."
He pauses to consider for a moment, eyes still half-closed. "Also, I'm almost certain that most of my parts got put together in the right order. So that really went better than I was expecting." ... he's probably not talking about physical parts, given that he just quite literally tested whether he was still capable of being annoying.
Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Mamoru's head leans back when Nephrite brushes his hand against it, and he closes his eyes and he doesn't even move when Zoisite basically slithers across both of them. He'll take 'human blanket' for five hundred. "The teleportation didn't help. That escalation was way worse than yours, though. I think Zoi was eating Darkflake Crunch for breakfast every morning. Builds strong bones six ways or something. It wasn't really any harder to do, it's the same ground, the same skies, the same winds..."
He trails off and hunkers down further, keeping his arms inside his shirt, up tight against himself. "But we can test it, sure. I teleported all the time in the Dark Kingdom and while obviously I wasn't fine, I wasn't not-fine like that. Maybe it was like not tasting how terrible something is because of burning all your tastebuds off."
His arms may be in his shirt, but that doesn't stop him from nudging Zoisite with his elbow. "I was looking after you. Of course you got put back together in the right order." The prince probably requires special measures to actually annoy. It's also possible he's currently too rekt to get into anything with anyone, so it's probably a good call on Nephrite's part not to tease him just now. Maybe tomorrow. After he's slept.
"You are also," Mamoru finishes firmly, cracking one eye open to meet Zoisite's, "not off the hook for telling me stuff. It's been a while since I've been in practice tracking everything at once."
Nephrite has posed:
"Sounds like you're all there to me," Nephrite mutters. "We'll get you a potted plant to keep you company, alright?" He pats Zoisite's arm, equal parts reassuring and obnoxiously condescending.
"That was definitely a worse escalation," he nods over Mamoru's head. "With the boiling and the bits tearing off and all. Let's not do that again."
Since apparently nobody plans to move any time soon, a tree root adjusts itself to settle behind Nephrite's back. He leans into it, settling against the thick moss. Though the sun continues to shine down brightly, warming those who need to be warm, the leaves overhead provide just enough shade that it's not shining directly into his eyes. "I teleported all the time in the Dark Kingdom, too. But it wasn't like that this time. The dark power did all the work for me before. This time it was all me."
Zoisite has posed:
The arm-patting prompts a snapping of teeth in Nephrite's general direction. Zoisite doesn't actually lift his head to do it, though, and he folds his other arm across himself to curl fingers around Nephrite's even as he's saying, "At least then I'd get some intelligent conversation." A course of antibiotics may clear the infection from a wound, but that doesn't mean it's actually healed. Someday later they'll be able to indulge in bickering without fear of misinterpretation. Right now he's erring on the side of caution.
Or, from the tightness of his grip, he might just have wanted the excuse to hold on to their anchor a little bit more directly.
Boiling and -- Zoisite makes another face. "I already admitted that trying to grow up to be Kunzite was on my list of terrible life choices," he complains. "You don't have to keep rubbing it in." That 'you' is plural, thank you Mamoru and your evil breakfast cereals
Nephrite's statement about the teleport does not win any complaints, though, and does not even prompt any jokes about Mamoru's physical state clearly being Nephrite's fault. Green eyes open and look up at him, that's all. All him. No support. Nothing outside. Just ... Nephrite's own power and mind, drawing them out of the world, keeping them together, settling them back into it. Maybe it takes the contrast with the power they're so recently free of, the people they so recently were, to understand how much of a statement that actually is.
Not being ill over it probably helps, granted.
Eyes open means Mamoru can meet them, yes. The tone even prompts Zoisite to look back at them. And that's another statement that has much more impact than it seems to have reason to be. The deepest of the old wounds, going back before Beryl in this life. Before Beryl took them in the last, though not so long before.
"Anything important. Anything that seems like it might be. Always."
Sometimes old oaths don't sound quite the same when they're offered again.
Mamoru Chiba has posed:
"It was terrible in completely non-Dark-Energy ways," agrees Mamoru, mumbling it more or less into Nephrite's shirt. He sighs. "I'm sorry. It was perfect, thank you. And I'm really glad you can actually do it, you, not the darkness. I didn't know. I just hoped really hard."
Zoisite's brief crankiness pulls a slight smile from the prince's face, which is good, because he was starting to look a little green again at Nephrite's comments about boiling and bits falling off--
--and then there's the look behind Zoisite's eyes as he answers, and Endymion slides his arm out of his shirt to put it around the slighter boy. "And I'll always listen. I might ask you to show me, sometimes, but that's not because I think you're lying or not examining your own data, it's just that we all have blind spots. We're supposed to cover each others'."
Then the black-haired boy's eyes close tightly and he lets his walls down a little bit further, and they can both feel how unbelievably sorry he is. "And if I disagree-- I'll make sure I show you why. If there's time to. If there's no time to, I'll-- I'll have to ask you to trust me, and I'll show you later. I hope that's good enough." Behind it all is the raw sense that he failed them, that he was too distracted, too easily angered, too full of his own authority.
Likewise, he doesn't hide his struggle to get past that sense, to shove the topic around before he gets more emotional than he can deal with. "And if it's not, I'll totally bribe you with a sweet penthouse apartment. Do you have a place to stay after all this or do you want to move in, Zoi?"
Nephrite has posed:
The snapping of Zoisite's teeth prompts a low chuckle from Nephrite, a rumble deep in his chest that vibrates through the entire pile of teenagers.
"You hoping really hard seems to be exactly what we need," he comments to Mamoru. "It's something that I think the rest of us are out of practice at."
And maybe this conversation is more directed between Mamoru and Zoisite. But all this talk of data and blind spots and that feeling of failure prods at something in Nephrite. Signs that pointed to--no, signs that were screaming about--disaster, oblivion, a catastrophe of worldly proportions. And deception. Deception poisoning everything from the inside out. He'd seen it. He knew it was coming. And he did not tell Endymion. Did not put his trust in him when he needed to the most. Became a bringer of that disaster.
His own shame resonates with Mamoru's, a shuddering feedback loop that will inevitably drag them down into dark places if they let it go too long. A cloud briefly drifts across the sun, before Nephrite remembers himself and pushes it back again.
"Blind spots," he says. "Yes. From now on, it's honesty. It has to be. If we're to have any chance. We need to learn to trust each other again."
Zoisite has posed:
Out of practice? ... pretty much. Zoisite's rueful nod is agreement enough. Hope isn't something they had much to do with in the Dark Kingdom, other than hope that they could pull some scheme off, or hope that they could evade Beryl's notice. Neither of which really count.
A little of the conversation is directed between Mamoru and Zoisite, true. Say ... ten words of Zoisite's, and even those, he wanted Nephrite to hear. Echoes and consequences of questions they asked in private. Most of it -- Zoisite remembers just enough of those last arguments to be privately certain Mamoru's talking to both of them.
Zoisite remembers his own privately harbored doubt. And not being brave enough to speak of it, nor brave enough to trust his own conclusions when those he looked up to argued against them. Silence that turned into acquiescence, that turned into complicity.
There's shame there, too, echoing with the others'. But his hand tightens on Nephrite's again -- not much compared to Nephrite's own strength -- and he turns his head to press it into Endymion's arm. Moving past those dark places and on. "Honesty. Yes. Both kinds. Not just telling the truth; not hiding, either. We're all too used to that, we're going to have to help each other --" His sudden laugh is almost a yelp. "Okay. Maybe Jadeite won't have any trouble. But we'll need to stay close, so we notice if anybody's starting to drift away again."
Which is a good time to consider Mamoru's offer. Zoisite weighs the alternative aloud. "Castle. Internet. Castle. Internet and television. Mmmmm, I don't know. What are you planning, Neph?"
Mamoru Chiba has posed:
It's true: it lapsed into general statements as soon as Mamoru started talking. Likewise, when Nephrite starts spiraling down that path behind him and pulls himself out, even as Mamoru's jerking his worldview back to the present, it's not with apology but with determination that he reinforces the resolution Nephrite comes to, that Zoisite firmly echoes.
"We shouldn't have any trouble. We've all of us learned from the past, now. Now that we're allowed to remember it, anyway. And yeah, I was just about to say, Jadeite..." Mamoru starts out, then laughs, then trails off. He puts his chin on Zoisite's head, briefly, then glances up at Nephrite. "I'm actually worried about Jadeite. I haven't seen much of him. I'm afraid he might have some kind of stupid idea like I don't want to see him because he skipped out pretty much when I got in, but I know how he was. So if you see him before I do, sit on him and call me, will you?"
Then he smirks at Zoisite and finally starts reluctantly disentangling himself. Apparently teenager-pile and moping and resolutions and stuff had the cumulative side-effect of making him feel less queasy. "Oh come on. If Neph can teleport the three of us to his treehouse on two seconds' notice, I'm sure you can make it from internet and television to castle and back again without any issues."
Nephrite has posed:
Not hiding. That's going to be a tough habit to break. Hiding is about all that Nephrite has ever done in his life. He squeezes Zoisite's hand in return, though he holds back for fear of crushing it. "Alright. We need to be willing to call each other out on the hiding thing. All of us." He has always needed reminding, in this life as much as the last, not to retreat too far into the sky.
"If I see Jadeite, consider him sat on." Nephrite so rarely spoke to Jadeite in the Dark Kingdom, and has not seen him at all since. It should not be that way, he thinks.
A relieved smile crosses his face at the mention of television and internet, a welcome distraction. "I miss reality TV. I bet all my favorite contestants have been kicked off by now." He bobs his chin down on the top of Zoisite's head. "For now, I'm here. I think this place is what I needed to reconnect all the pieces again. But later, when things have settled down again..." he looks at Mamoru. "I think I've been living alone too long. I can't think of a better place to be."
Zoisite has posed:
All of us. Zoisite's nod to Nephrite's confirmation is likewise firm -- the one who's needed to be reminded to come back, and the one who's inclination is for spying, heights, invisibility, masks. It's going to be hard for both of them.
But the one Zoisite's looking at when he nods is Mamoru. And contact gives him the sense as plainly as words: that goes for you, too; we'll let you get away with it for now, but when this is over -
When he finally needs to fall apart, they'll catch him. Help put the pieces back together. That's what they're for.
Easier topics, lightening. On Jadeite? "If I see Jadeite, consider Nephrite called to come sit on him," Zoisite says, with his best angelic air. All past stabbings aside, Jadeite's bigger than he is. And stronger.
And television. Zoisite's wriggle to help Mamoru disentangle puts him right in line for Nephrite's chin on his head. Trapped! Trapped where he nearly has to cross his eyes to try to give an appalled look upward. "You watch that enough to have favorite contestants?" His tone by itself might actually translate into a plea for Nephrite just to be messing with his head. He heaves as exaggerated a sigh as he can manage. "I'll be there. Someone needs to protect you from this philistine."
Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Flashes of dark rooms from the wrong height and being away from people rise, unbidden, in Mamoru's mind, as Nephrite says he's been living alone too long -- and cease as the prince finally makes it to his feet. He regards Nephrite for a moment, blue eyes serious. "We all have. Even if we like being alone sometimes, even if we all need space... home shouldn't be a lonesome thing."
Spying, heights, invisibility, masks; the inclination to detach and observe; the desire to disappear into work with things that don't feel; the habit of putting up barriers to keep the self in and the other out. When borrowing their strengths, Endymion also borrowed the weaknesses that came with them -- and that was before Kunzite broke him, before Beryl and Metalia systematically smashed whatever they saw was left, before the healer regenerated within a stronger shield like a rebroken bone.
It'll be a long time putting the pieces back together when the prince falls.
The gaze that answers Zoisite's is brief, cut short along with the contact, because Mamoru can't meet his eyes anymore. There's only: I know you know. There's only: You promised not to tell, but that's only the girls, only don't tell the girls. There's only the acknowledgement that these things Zoisite is thinking are true, and he, Mamoru, can't think about them yet; that he, Endymion, can work around them.
There's a brief chuff of a laugh, and Mamoru reaches up to run his hand through his hair, tugging at it when it reaches the back of his head. "I have too much homework for television, for the most part. But like I said, the space is huge. Me studying won't keep you from Snooki getting voted off the island in Big Brother, or whatever. I do appreciate the buffer, though. Listen-- I've got to go check on Usa and her friend, they went to Jadeite's place. I'll probably be there for the rest of the night. If either of you needs me, just call, okay?"
Nephrite has posed:
Nephrite feigns indignation, his eyes growing wide in mock horror. "Protect him from me? Zoisite. Zoisite, I don't think you understand. There is a show where people have to guess whether a random object is real or made out of candy by taking a bite out of it. There are shoes, Zoisite. Shoes. This is quality entertainment."
He is still laughing when Mamoru stands. A reassurance that, very soon now, there will be a time when he has to deal with something so mundane as Nephrite making him watch a show about people eating shoes. "We'll negotiate over your free time later. But hey--" he catches Mamoru by the wrist, before he can run away. "That goes for you too, alright Endy? We're here. For anything."
