heisrisen | 31. Pallas

[Public]

I don't actually know anything concrete about my counterpart. If I ought to know you and I don't, or if he's hurt you, then I'm truly sorry.

I go by Risen. I'll be helping in the infirmary for as long as this lasts.

[Private to Zane]

You have bunnies.

[And he has cats. What a place.]

[Private to Bianca]

How are you faring so far?

[They have never, ever been friends. Bianca jealous of Zane's attachments, Risen too stubborn to be charmed or influenced. But a step back, without the fear, with the power balance tilted less egregiously in the other direction - there are things he can appreciate about her, even respect. And when he chooses to take responsibility for someone, he is unfailingly solicitous. He is not her friend now. But neither is he insincere.]

[Open spam]

[He's in the library, awed, giddy, tearing through manuscripts long lost by his time. He lies on his back in the greenhouse, breathes slowly, remembers what a garden smells like. He is on deck, with a laser pointer, cooing the sappiest, most idiotic things at the Emperor's two cats. He has missed cats so badly.]

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Yes.

You're not him.

I'm me.

It's - strange for me too. But I hope we could at least be friends.

He's not like that. He's a good man. Driven by his own devils, but he is not petty or needlessly cruel, you needn't apologize for him.

[Yes, Bush is ignoring the time he drowned him, that was a flood. And he is cruel, but in a way that seems right to Bush.]

I'm Captain William Bush, and I know who I am there.

Edited 2014-10-03 17:19 (UTC)

[He makes a subtle expression, a familiar one, a little twist down of his mouth, sterness and pride, a muffled combination of displeasure and determination, kickback from not being up to his own standards.]

I've had a skewed idea or two about what need meant, in my time.

[But the expression subsides, leaves a wise, subtle sort of nobility.]

But it's heartening to hear you defend him.

[Both pronouns relevant, strange though it seems. Perhaps because of that.]

[Bush studies Risen's face with earnest blue eyes, not thinking to conceal how much he is searching out his dear friend.

He reserves judgement, but he thinks perhaps Risen and he would have been friends, well enough. But there is a lack of edge. Perhaps there are not the cruel apple-biting teeth.]

I do not always agree with him either. But he is-- he does what he thinks is right, he never shirks that.

[It's so nice to see someone using the library so eagerly. Chromie waves cheerfully to Risen when she sees him.]

Hello there! Let me know if you need help finding anything!

[She finds him in the garden, listens to him breathe a while before approaching to sit beside him. She has a lot of memories, after her forays into the other Barge: she knows what he's like.]

You know me.

[An answer to his earlier question, one she forgo voicing before she could see him in person. It's better this way.]

[She's on Iris' bed, cuddling Iris' dogs: behind her, Iris' Dali and her Lakeside portraits and her framed Harvey Dent sketches are stacked facing the wall.]

This room's like a bloody Montmartre brothel. But without any absinthe to dull the ennui.

[And then she smiles her thin smile.]

But it's not without its compensations. Barely here five minutes and I was being fought over. And yourself, Risen?

Of course.

I have memories of you.

I have - I got flashes. Scraps in dreams. But not enough to feel like I know you.

[He brightens, seeing her, like a weight's been lifted simply by her presence.]

Morgana. You -

[She looks different, younger. But it's still her. He opens his arms.]

May I?

[He has his edges. But he made a choice, long ago, when he almost cut his sister out of his heart - though some days it doesn't feel long ago at all, not to him - to contain them far more carefully. But the drive - that, he knows, and there's something adamant under his measured solemn-smile when he nods.]

That surprises me not at all.

But I must confess you do.

[He perks up, hair sticking up a bit on one side, a little manic and delighted.]

There's so much.

Do you know if you have anything from pre-Roman Alexandria?

[Worried. Lonely. Guilty about how much he appreciates the breath of half-peace.]

I've been worse. At least the room is familiar.

And I don't have absinthe, but I could probably find something similar for you.

You do look as though you've settled in well.

[Iris would have said it with relieved gladness; Bianca means it for a barb. And then he's offering to help her, and she raises one delicately arched brow.]

I'm sure you could. Are you going to?

[And at what price?]

[Oh he's cute. Like a puppy.]

Which version of Earth?

What, that I am different? Ain't everyone?

[Puzzled?]

[It is the first time Mewtwo has been on the deck. It stands like a strangely shaped statue for a long hour, staring up at the stars.

But it is visibly distracted by the little red laser dot. So fast. So shiny.

It's voice echoes as surface telepathy, rather than any normal speech.]

{Do these creatures belong to you, human?}

I remember hurting you and falling in love with how beautiful it was.

I'm not like that. Anymore.

[There is a fraction of an instant where is uncertain: then she's leaning into his arms, resting her head against his shoulder.]

Of course. Always.

[It feels too big a promise to make, bug she can't not.]

I'm glad to meet you. As myself, for once.

[A wry smile, twisted in ways that are only partially visible.]

A few centuries of pampering will give anyone an...odd relationship to pain.

I fell in love right back. If you doubted it.

No, not that. Obviously different.

That you in particular are his defender, I suppose.

Oh! Ah, the ones without magic to start with.

[START.]

Ah. Yes. It was-- it was the worst of the mirror, how much he was the enemy of Zane and yourself. They are the dearest of friends. He feared and hated all that I've admired and it makes me angry, how senseless he is. And how much harm he does.

I am very fond of our Emperor. 'That one, over there, with the cat', he said, when I was new aboard and could not ever imagine addressing an Emperor that way.

Edited 2014-10-06 05:48 (UTC)

[He holds her tight, his breath a little bit ragged. He doesn't know her, or how she's different - she looks younger, which strikes him as terrible somehow, unfair - but she is Morgana and they love each other, and that's enough for him to hold onto just now. He is very glad to meet her too, and a little too choked to say it up to his own standards of composure. In a moment, perhaps.]

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31. Pallas

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