closed | may/june catch-all

[faithfall]

Who: adrian & ??
Where: various
When: may/june
What: catch-all for june & migrated TDM threads

Warnings: N/A for now?

Comments

I am so sorry for ...all of this.

[positivelyroomy]

[ Adrian’s Patrons make the Fears look like a feral pack of hyenas. They were primal in that way, wantonly reaching out to feed their own existence. Only the Web and Terminus showed signs of awareness of their own mortalities in a world cyphoned dry. Humanity, however, tended to be problematic and morph intentions to mirror their own desire for power. Jonah certainly hadn't been the first, but it was his own desire for immortality rather than the Eye's will to orchestrate a power grab to raise it up.

Martin can’t imagine the Lonely ever having a voice. It is a pressure at the back of his mind, however, urging him to cater to those parts of himself that benefit it best. What he is doing here doesn't mesh, but he's stubborn. Right now, finding common ground with someone like Adrian feeds the other clingy Patron who's so fond of him. ]

You said their name was Raphael? [ Martin sounds a bit confused – it’s just weird hearing about religious figures actually being tangible. And willing to bestow powers to those who ask. ] The archangel of healing Raphael? [ the wtfery is evident now and he frowns in thought ] I'm not religious, but we broke the world and the only omniscient force that stepped in was John. [ Martin’s grin is teasing. ] So if all of those religious figures were real, they just couldn’t be bothered to care. To be fair, the extent to which the Fears cared was pretty self-serving.

[ Martin rolls his shoulders and decides to finally settle back off of his knees, legs crossed and elbows pressed into the meat of his thigh. ] Why would I call you petulant? Patrons are detached from our mess. It’s all black and white, and– and that’s not how life works. [ He seems intent on staring down a hangnail on his thumb as he continues. ] You do the best you can.

[ His attention is drawn back just in time to see that grimace. He wonders, for a confusing and rather troubling moment, if he just collects the same type of individual? In this sense, it’s platonic because he thinks he’d rather enjoy being Adrian’s friend – and potentially another set of eyes for Lady Fern (RIP your blood pressure, queen), but the irony is not lost on him. ]

Maybe she already knows that you would do something like that, and that’s why she worries. I-I mean, maybe not to the extent of cooking a planet… I hope not at least. [ The look he shoots Adrian just screams “particularly this one,” but it isn’t threatening. ] I knew John would be too stubborn to concede anything short of self-destruction. Still can't decide if that's a red flag or not.

… so how long have you been with Lady Fern? [ LISTEN HE MISUNDERSTOOD THE LEVEL OF COMPANIONSHIP. ]

[faithfall]

You've heard of him? [ Adrian is just as baffled by this revelation. Angels in general, certainly, but very few people would know them by name in Faerûn. Even Adrian himself has never been entirely certain of what exactly Raphael is. Deva has always been his best guess, with the wings and their lifelong affinity. ] There's a religion dedicated to Raphael..? Surely it must have been another... If he was able to reach your plane of existence, he would have no choice but to intervene against your Fears. Many of the gods would have long since demanded it. It's truly strange that the only gods in your world are these Fears... I wonder if they've consumed all others, or if your world was sealed to contain them perhaps.

[ It's all idle speculation. Adrian is both horrified and fascinated. To think that an ordinary human had reached such heights as to contend with the nearest thing to gods in his plane of existence. He's heard of heroes like that, but even to Adrian they had seemed fanciful and distant. Entirely unlike ordinary people by the time the stories of them became known. Perhaps it's Martin's telling that makes John's humanity seem so apparent.

Adrian exhales slowly. ] Indeed, we do the best that we can.

[ As for cooking a planet... Adrian rubs the back of his neck. He thinks of Strahd's blood red eyes meeting his across the dining table. ] No... No, but even so, I try not to worry her more than I must. I suppose that past a certain point, the color of the flag is immaterial, and John and I must be sure not to take your respective loyalty for granted.

[ He smiles, a bit tired. He's done that already, hasn't he? Adrian looks down at his hands, not parsing the implication at first. ] We've been traveling together for over... oh, oh goodness no we aren't. [ He wrinkles his nose just a bit. There isn't anything wrong with the idea objectively. He even understands why it might come across that way... but it does feel strange to think about, and a bit off-putting. ] My apologies for misleading you. Lady Fern is like a sister to me in all but blood. I don't think either of us are interested in a courtship.

I... don't think of courtship much in general, to be frank. [ Still rubbing the back of his neck, where Strahd's mark remains, an unwanted claim. ] I suppose I can't say that I've been too busy... you've certainly managed it while saving your world.

[positivelyroomy]

[ Martin screams the kind of agnostic spurned on from an overcritical Catholic upbringing. He is very selective on how he gets on his knees these days, and it’s not due to him being in his thirties and a tired millennial. He doesn’t respond immediately. ]

When we spoke to Annabelle, she couldn’t know for sure about how many worlds where the Fears already existed – but she did know there were those absent from their involvement. Maybe the same applies to your Patrons. [ He continues, sheepishly. ] I’m sure there are some well-meaning Catholic hospitals back home named after Raphael, but he's not the uh. "Main event", if you will? An ethereal supporting cast to a divine creator. [ Apologetic, almost: ] We don’t have actual concrete proof of any benevolent beings. But… I doubt people back in your home didn’t feel fear. It just wasn’t a malevolent force to be reckoned with.

[ The shift in topic, and of Adrian’s realization – is horribly amusing. Also embarrassing. He’s torn between blushing himself silly and sacrificing himself to the unknowns outside the poor man’s door. An awkward stammer and flush suffice. ]

Wha– no. No, God you didn’t mislead me. I just connected a few dots that weren’t there. At all. Sorry about that. [ He takes a moment to just… schlep the embarrassment off, no doubt compartmentalizing it, only to be revisited of his faux pas later when the memory pops up uninvited at like… 3am. Witching hour, and all… ]

If you're happy, it doesn't matter much I'd think. It took years of one-sided pining and trauma before he figured out that he was interested. [ His attention shifts and Martin looks to be torn about speaking up, but he’s already got his foot in his mouth twice, so another time won’t hurt. ] Is… your neck okay? You’ve been rubbing it an awful lot.

[faithfall]

Mm, likely so. [ Adrian replies, his expression still thoughtful. ] That isn't inconsistent with what I know. Raphael's kind serve gods, though not all of them serve the same one.

[ It would be nice if he could simply ask Raphael about the situation, but even their normally limited contact has absent these past several weeks. ] That's true, I can't imagine that there are worlds entirely devoid of fear. It seems almost unfair, when there are most certainly worlds ruled by it.

[ As for the mistake, he laughs, though it's kindly meant. He understands that expression all too well. ] Please, it's truly alright, Mr. Blackwood — I can see how you would have come to that conclusion when I've given you little context to the contrary. It happens more often than you might think, frankly. You've nothing to be embarrassed about.

[ Not about him and Fern specifically, but that has a lot to do with the fact that they normally travel with a group. There have been others, in the past. Sometimes he wonders if the way he speaks about his friends and companions is just a bit too earnest or effusive, but it's a habit that he doesn't usually worry about changing. More people could stand to speak highly of their companions, should they be lucky enough to find friends like his.

At Martin's question, he drops his hand back into his lap as if it's been scalded. His laugh this time is slightly uncomfortable, though he's clearly trying to play it off. ] Oh — it's nothing, really. Bad habit. So you were smitten with Mr. Sims for that long? What was it about him that caught your attention, before... everything?