estoria | OPEN

Who:

fadeling & Whoever
When: IC 8/1
Where: Shopping district
What: Cole has been avoiding people, if you want to talk to him now's probably the best time for an ambush
Rating/Warning:G/PG - No warnings so far

It isn't hard for him to avoid people--they don't see him if he doesn't want them to. And it was easier for everyone if he did for a while. He couldn't help and if he tried he might have put his hurt on them. Then he would be worse than what they'd already said he was.

And that circular logic ran itself around in his head until he was dizzy. He can't hurt anyone or it wouldn't be him. He's still him so he can't have hurt anyone.

But what if he had? He helped and he left them healed behind him, he thought, but...

But.

But he can't stay to see, there are too many others who need help. And if he hindered instead of healed, that was hurting them too. He was supposed to help people. Was he helping people? He couldn't tell anymore. It was all cluttered, unclear and clouded, cloying and clawing and clutching coy at clinging. It was hard to see through, hard to think through, hard to see, hard to hear. It hurt to look at but he couldn't look anywhere else.

He's not the one who's supposed to hurt, to be conflicted. He was only one thing, how could he do that wrong?

He crouched in the middle of the street, passersby flowing around him, not noticing that they even moved around him, but not seeing him either. That was part of it, too, and he didn't want to be noticed. He could still hear the hurting, but he hesitated, trying not to listen, trying to lose himself in the sounds of it. Maybe if there was too much to listen to, he could forget himself for a moment. Maybe if he couldn't pull it apart, he wouldn't have to try and then he wouldn't hurt anyone.

It really wasn't working.

"Touch and try and hurt or don't touch and don't try and don't hurt. Or touch and don't hurt. Too many threads, tied together tight in tiny tangles."

But they'd caught him in them, too when he was supposed to be clean. He couldn't even tell if he was that anymore.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It was easy to know where to look if you knew what you were doing. It was difficult to know where to look if there was something stopping you from seeing, but that didn't stop Leliana from hearing. She'd been heading to one of the cafes when she'd heard the voice - an unmistakable voice that, when she saw no one there, told her who it was - and that Cole hadn't fully left this place. Her birds (her new CYbuddies) had been unable to find him, but now she had.

It's only a guess that lands Leliana in front of him - trusting her hearing to carry her steps towards him until, she hopes, she's just a hand's reach away. Though his words could often be confusing these sounded more worrying, as if something had - or would happen.

"Then let us un-weave them." It wouldn't be easy, not if he could feel or sense something greater, but whatever would come was not something he would be alone in.

That shouldn't have been a surprise, really. The Inquisition always saw him, eyes stuck instead of sliding. Maybe it was because the Inquisition made them more. Or maybe they were like Rhys and they cared more, maybe that was what made them look.

He didn't move at all, still staring at nothing in particular in front of him. It was easier than seeing all the faces that he wouldn't remember later. If he didn't have a face to match to a hurt, maybe that would make it easier too. But he could feel her coming, too. She was brighter and darker than the others around him.

"I don't think I can. Not without touching. The other bird said I shouldn't touch."

Another bird. Someone that Cole had been speaking to, someone that perhaps didn't know - or trust him so well. Leliana had always known Cole to help people, but if something had happened? Something that made him doubt, well-

"Who said that?" Who is this bird? Who should she worry about?

"The other bird. Red wings like a sunset, sailor's delight. 'I don't want your help. What good does it do?'" But that wasn't the part that hurt. He could handle people rejecting him and rejecting his help. If they weren't ready or didn't want it, he wouldn't force them.

"He said I shouldn't touch. They both said I hurt people by helping." And not just said--almost convinced. And that was why he hesitated.

Leliana hadn't seen this bird before, but she'd certainly be keeping an eye out for them. Though she couldn't say that she truly understood Cole - he had experienced more of their lives than she had, and she didn't know him so well yet - Leliana knew a few things about him, and they were all that she needed to know. Little else mattered, until this. Someone doubted him, or had hurt him - they'd made him doubt himself.

"Helping people does not hurt them." It can sometimes if advice goes wrong, but that wasn't how Cole helped them. He touched, took away pain. That was not a bad thing - that didn't hurt them.

"You helped the Inquisition before you knew us. Many would have been lost otherwise." And that was partly why she'd been intrigued enough to want to listen to him again - that and his curious situation.

"But it could. It could hurt. I don't know if it does. That's enough." It was more the uncertainty than anything. If he didn't know the full consequences, it could mean that they were hurt more later when he wasn't there, wasn't looking.

Could he even think that far ahead? Or was it better just to not touch now that he knew?

"I don't know. It's too tangled, too tied together. I can't touch without tearing."

And that's telling, the doubt of it all. Cole had only helped before, never doubted that he was able to help. Now? To hear it sound so different, to not be willing to put himself out there to help?

"Who told you you shouldn't help?"

Because she isn't happy about that. She'd like to know who - why. She has her own prejudices against demons, but Cole is not a demon.

"The other bird. The red one." That didn't exactly explain anything, though, but he couldn't exactly be any more specific either. He'd never gotten the man's name because it was never that important.

"The other one, too. Not the bird. He said it hurt but it was too close to tell."

"Could you find them?" Because it wasn't much of a description to go on, and Leliana would like to know from them how and why they believe this. What it is they're afraid of.

"Yes." He could find most people. "But I said I wouldn't look. He doesn't like when I do."

"I need you to." Or some other way of being able to find him. Knowing enough Leliana would be able to find him alone, but Cole didn't - yet - have much for her. She also didn't care that this person didn't like when Cole found them.

"Why?" He knew better than to ask the question, but he did regardless. She always needed to know so the birds could know too. And yet...he didn't want to leave her alone with the man, either. That wouldn't end well for either of them.

"To know why he's afraid."

To explain, to question. To make sure he left Cole alone if this was the response from the previous time. She didn't know Cole well but Leliana knew enough. This person didn't know anything, and maybe that brought fear - or maybe he was just rude.

"Because I make people forget. They don't want to." So he hadn't made them, but then they'd told him that it would hurt people again, later, when the found their way back to what had hurt them before, and they wouldn't know, even if he left the memory but removed the pain.

"Is it only that?" Could there be more that they hadn't said to Cole, or was it only that? Forgetting something could be frightening, but once you'd forgotten you didn't know. You didn't know what to be afraid of - you couldn't be afraid of it.

"I don't know. He told me to stop looking." Maybe it was more than that--it almost had to be, didn't it?--but what else could it be? He'd been fairly direct.

It was difficult to say, really.

"Then it may be something more." Something interesting, or that she could use? Who knows.

"If you do find him I'd like to know." She'll also have her own eyes out.

Maybe it was. She wouldn't give up, and he knew that well enough. She never did. Not until she had the prey clutched closely in her claws.

"Yes. He's not hard. Maybe you'll find him first."

OPEN

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject