estoria | OPEN

Entry tags:

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.

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"Cole!"

Where the spirit was courteous in avoiding subtlety, Lavellan's naturally overt nature made itself known with energetic and bombastic flair as she grabbed his upper arms, as if making sure he was truly there.

"Don't be sorry, falon. I'm glad you're okay."

Maybe she was in denial concerning her distress over the loss of their friends.

"You, ah, you are okay, right?"

After all, Cole wouldn't disappear without reason.

He didn't even pull away from that touch like he might have before--or had it been anyone else. If she needed to touch, he wouldn't stop her, even if he tried not to make eye contact, instead dropping his eyes to the ground in front of him.

"Yes. Maybe." But that was a lie, and he paused to think about that for a moment before he shook his head.

"No. It's..loud and quiet but it needs to be louder...and quieter. Tied and tangled and twisted until it tightens, told and trying. I don't know anymore."

Lavellan's social background makes it almost impossible for her not to touch her closest friends. A quick brush of an arm with her long fingers here, a playful poke there, it's all her way of showing just how much she cares outside of her usual actions.

"Thank you for telling me the truth," she begins. It's tough to be honest with one's feelings, even for spirits.

"What can I do to help?"

"I don't know." That really described everything he was feeling right now. How was he supposed to feel? He'd been one thing for so long, he'd forgotten how to be anything else, brought bright and broken to an edge he'd never known was there.

It was an uncomfortable feeling.

"It's...lost. I tried to find the feelings--I tried to help. I can hear it but...maybe it hurts instead of helping. I don't know.

Cole's discomfort is always an alarming issue to contend with, regardless of the circumstance. When dealing with the colony's many twists and turns, physical and emotional, the panic is often amplified. There are simply too many unknowns affecting them.

Still, Lavellan finds a way to calm herself and keep her voice steady. They won't get anywhere without some direction, and she's grown used to being the one to set it. Just like home. One of the only things just like home.

"Who did you try to help?"

"The red bird. He didn't want me to. Neither did the other one he was with. So I didn't. But...they said that I hurt people helping. That I can't make them forget when it hurts because it huts them later." And he didn't know if it really did, but...if there was even a chance that it would, he couldn't risk it.

It's that "what if" that's the most damaging. Mostly for people. But it seemed for him too.

It's hard to completely refute what had been said to Cole. Sometimes, at least in the beginning, his way of helping led to death. To him, it was a mercy, and perhaps it was, given Lavellan's limited scope, but it's hard to comprehend for someone who isn't a spirit.

But this isn't one of those scenarios. This sounded like someone deliberately trying to hurt Cole. Or, at the very least, someone with so little tact that it didn't matter what their initial intentions were.

If she ever found out their identity. Identities. They'd receive a stern talking to if there ever was one.

"Some people are marred by their previous experiences. Perhaps they were made to forget in the past and encountered a disfavorable outcome."

She pauses.

"Think of the times when you've made people forget. They all seemed far happier afterwards, did they not?"

"Yes. Faded and forgotten to fall away."

But. There had never been a "but" before. He helped.

... but what if he didn't?

"But...but it's... false flight to first fall. Maybe they hurt later if they don't remember not to." Did they? He'd never know because he forgot too. It helped and it didn't. Did it?

"I can't tell. It's... clouded, too covered to see. Faithless and followed, made and Maker and unmade. Futures are hard to see."

"You're right. Futures are very hard to see."

She has no idea on what the best path to take would be when it comes to comforting Cole. Seeing the spirit in a panic breaks her heart, but there are just so many variables to consider when helping him. But that doesn't mean she can't try her best.

"But that just means we should do our best now to allow for the most positive outcome. You've done so many good things, Cole. I'm very proud of you."

"Proud..." Another time he might have liked to hear that. Now, he really want so certain he'd done anything for her to be proud of. But she was trying to help. He could always appreciate that. She always tried to help, even when she needed help too.

"Making right now might mean making more hurt later. What do you do if it hurts them?"

Lavellan falls silent, recalling her own experience with a scenario where she'd thought she was helping, but only hurting. Jana was an elf in Crestwood who only wanted to join the Grey Wardens, a dream that Aeneth encouraged her to pursue.

Only to see her used as a blood sacrifice by that very same group.

It was a decision that haunts her to this very day.

She sucks in a deep breath, hiding the shudder with practised composure, and responds with a gentle tone.

"You learn from the mistake and try to do better for somebody else. It should never go to waste, regardless of what happened or how awful you might feel."

If he were that type--of he were more human--he might have cried in frustration. Whether it was good or bad that he couldn't, he didn't know and he didn't want to try to guess, either. Or was not knowing even worse? How could anyone stand to be so complicated? That was for humans to worry about.

He could feel the edges of her hurt, her discomfort, but instead of reaching for it like before, he withdrew, pulling back like it burned and keeping it separate from himself.

She was trying to help. He trusted her. This wasn't about that. This was pain and possibility he'd never known before. And he didn't know if there was a cure anywhere for it.

"It shouldn't be hard. Helping shouldn't hurt. It... It's duty and deeds done in devotion but twisted to dark desires because someone can't see. Because I can't see through the dark. I can't know if I can't see but I need to know."

Edited 2016-08-01 02:21 (UTC)

"We can't always know, Cole. It's part of our reality here, outside of the Fade."

She takes his hands and squeezes tightly, as if trying to will some of her positive outlook into the panicky spirit. He's always been there for Lavellan and the rest of the Inquisition. It's only right not only to repay that debt, but to try and take care of a dear friend.

"But that doesn't discount what we do here and now. If we continue to do good and to help others, then the benefits will always outweigh the potential hurt. I promise."

If this was life outside the Fade, he wasn't certain he wanted to stay. The Fade was easier. It didn't hurt so much.

But he could help here. He wasn't important--only the helping was. And what was he if he couldn't even do that without causing more hurt?

He looked down at his hands, held firmly in hers, a touch he was all but unfamiliar with but it held him there, fixed and frozen. It was...close. Friendly.

Concerned.

He was making her worry. He was making it worse.

He took a deep breath but it didn't help. So he tried another.

"What if it isn't enough? What if it hurts?"

"Then you do your best for the next person, and then you do even better for whoever comes after them."

Lavellan doesn't release his hands, sheer determination not allowing her to give up for even a second. Her concern may be palpable, but there's a fire burning underneath based purely in wanting to help in her own way.

"And you keep on going no matter what happens. If you give up, that's when you hurt people the most, because that's when you abandon everyone you could've helped in the days to come."

Her optimism was hard to ignore, calling clear and clarion, pulling him back from edges toward the solid ground again. It was still hard to see, still fuzzy, but... better. Better than it had been.

He could practically feel the warmth of her conviction flowing from her hands into his. As uncomfortable as the touch was, he almost craved it now. Now he didn't want to let go.

"You burn, bright but... beautiful. Thank you. For helping."

"Of course. I'll always be here to help, Cole." Lavellan beams, keeping her hands tight over his until he feels comfortable enough to pull away. With her, nothing is ever forced, and if it is, it's usually for a good reason. Usually. There's room for debate there.

"And I appreciate the compliment."

She pauses.

"...At least, I believe that was a compliment."

"Yes." It was a strange compliment, but it matches him, really. The words are hard to find and they always have been; the feelings are easier. Those could only be one thing at a time.

Like him.

He stared at the mark for a few moments, transfixed and silent. It drew the Fade to it and he was part of it. If he looked too long he might fall into it too.

"It sings, too loudly to listen, but too bright to ignore. It pulls, pretty and petty, calling, claiming.

"It burns, sometimes. But it's you, too."

Being a part of her for such a long time (or at least it felt like such a long time), the mark hardly ever came to Lavellan's mind anymore outside of the essential closing of a Rift. These days cooped up in Cerealia, she had no reason to reflect on its presence. So when Cole brings up the topic in his unique, almost sing-song manner, she can't help the quick quirk of her eyebrow as she searches for his meaning, and comes across with momentary surprise.

"I suppose it is, isn't it?" Aeneth regards her hand and the mark it bears, "And as long as it's helping, I don't mind. Does it help you?"

Maybe, as a spirit, it affects him in different ways. At least, that's what she wonders.

"It doesn't hurt me." Which doesn't really answer the question and he knows it. It helps other people, but... it was frightening, sometimes, how easily the smaller spirits could get lost in it. It wasn't her fault, but it still happened. How long could he look at it before it drew him in too?

He forcibly tore his eyes away from it, looking back up at her face.

"It helps. Even when it's too loud. You make it help."

It never really crossed her mind how the mark's ability to banish demons back into the Fade could have the same adverse effect on a benevolent spirit like Cole. Granted, she's never had a reason to use it on him or any other kind spirits, but it's still a caveat she should have kept in mind. Lavellan's hand instinctively curls to hide the mark when Cole wrenches away his gaze, suddenly aware of its potential dangers to her friend.

"All right, good. Although, if you ever feel threatened by it, please let me know. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't." It was easier without the temptation to look, but the song always sung in his ears when she was near, the sibilant sighs whispering of the Fade he'd left behind. But she was using it to help people. He couldn't ever fault anyone for that.

"It helps. You help. So it won't hurt me."

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OPEN

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WOW OKAY SORRY I THOUGHT I ANSWERED THIS YESTERDAY :|

IT'S ALL GOOD

THANK YOU ;o;

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