Does the dog seem grateful? Maybe it's been looking for an out all this time.
At this point I'm pretty sure updates on my family are more likely to be conjured up by some kind of ritual than the royal mail. Maybe we should try one of those.
I'd rather hear about what the while-you're-up turned out to be.
Right, super important to get some stairs in. You know, I haven't got in a single stair all week. Maybe I should come meet you.
[He waits, of course, for the inevitable slightly-panicked no that comes with the territory of introducing a boy who appeared from nowhere to people who seem to be the Spanish Inquisition of anything weird.
Speaking of which:]
Know why I think it would take a ritual to reach them?
[ He's about to type that decline as politely as possible when the next message comes in. Ha ha — ]
I suddenly get the feeling it's not to illustrate how particularly difficult it's been. [ This does give him pause, though. What an ominous question. ]
[He does slip into ominous sometimes, though in person it's tempered by a certain degree of wide eyed innocence. But it's been a few days of watching Aodhan get skittish on certain topics. A few days 'exploring' without leaving the house (and honestly, Gabe isn't totally convinced he wouldn't just dissipate into the ether if he tried - in a way he couldn't come back from. He really doesn't like it when he's left alone).
Anyway. He's been waiting for a moment to stick a pin in the issue and maybe it's better to do it now, in clear black and white. He'd like to see the reaction, but maybe seeing however Aodhan manages to disguise it later will be more interesting.]
I mean it has been difficult, right?
But, I think it would take a ritual because I can say something like that to you and apart from checking no one has an ear to the door you don't think it's crazy.
We don't have rituals, back home. Or magic or -
Some of your books aren't right. They're similar, but not the same. Because this isn't my world. So if something brought me here, it must have been this world's magic. Maybe it was you.
The worst part about reading this - it doesn't even occur to him not to believe it, not after everything - is that it's entirely possible that it's true — that he did, personally, through his own stupid meddling, somehow cause this. Maybe if he hadn't looked where he wasn't supposed to, been too curious, tried things he hadn't been expressly shown how to do with Havelock's mirrors in order to see more of this other world and this other life, Gabriel wouldn't have just — appeared in his living room like that, oddly unstable. This, combined with the sudden guilt of having just been doing those exact things, and having just lied about it — ]
I'll be there in fifteen minutes.
[ He'll leave his viola upstairs. It's fine. He needs to go. ]
[Does Gabe feel a flash of guilt - even the smallest one - at how quickly Aodhan shifts in tone? Maybe.]
I mean. Probably.
[But does he feel satisfied? Absolutely. A little craving in him gets the hit it's been looking for (and it grows to more of an addiction each time). And who can blame him, really? He's lost everything that's been keeping him alive this long, it's important not to lose Aodhan too. After all, he doesn't exactly come from a family known from processing loss well.
Not that any panic shows when Aodhan does get back. He'll find Gabe sitting on the stair rail in the hall, one ankle hooked round a railing and an almost preternatural sense of balance keeping him in place while looking casual about it.
He lifts a hand, matching the greeting with a small smile that could be taken for apologetic, if that's what someone wanted to see.]
[ Aodhan arrives slightly out of breath, jacket over his arm and free hand unbuttoning the top of his shirt in an attempt to cool down. Unsurprising, for someone only moderately physically active who just biked back to the village much less leisurely than usual.
He's not expecting Gabe to appear so immediately in his field of vision, so he startles slightly before his eyes rove over him as if seeing him for the first time, again — looking for what he might have missed.
The question is briefly confusing before, thankfully, Aodhan remembers that there was a conversation before this revelation. ]
Wh — I — yes. The dog, at least, will pull through. Are you all right?
[It's not the worst look for someone who - in Gabe's limited experience - is easily the most buttoned up person he's ever met. Though it's the urgency that he pays more attention to. The look of surprise, and what comes after.
His own expression is kept mild, a slight hint of confusion dipping his brows.]
Should I not be?
[And then, lips parting in understanding - ]
I didn't mean to freak you out. I was just thinking, that's all - there isn't a lot for me to do apart from that. [And yet here Aodhan is, visibly the more concerned of the two of them. Gabe tilts his head, stepping off his perch and onto the stairs to face him.]
[ What is he supposed to do now, lie? Act like that wasn't just his incredibly suspicious reaction? Aodhan sighs and sets his jacket aside, free hand coming up to rake through his hair as he catches his breath. ]
Yes. That is, I — I don't know. [ He shakes his head as if it'll make the pieces of this fall properly in place. They don't. ] I have... reason to believe so.
[ God, admitting even this much out loud is terrifying. But Gabe deserves that much. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
> death becomes her
Does the dog seem grateful? Maybe it's been looking for an out all this time.
At this point I'm pretty sure updates on my family are more likely to be conjured up by some kind of ritual than the royal mail. Maybe we should try one of those.
I'd rather hear about what the while-you're-up turned out to be.
no subject
Oh — delivering the rest of the post to the staff, mainly. Everyone else was busy. Got in enough stairs to do me the rest of the week, now, I think.
no subject
[He waits, of course, for the inevitable slightly-panicked no that comes with the territory of introducing a boy who appeared from nowhere to people who seem to be the Spanish Inquisition of anything weird.
Speaking of which:]
Know why I think it would take a ritual to reach them?
no subject
I suddenly get the feeling it's not to illustrate how particularly difficult it's been. [ This does give him pause, though. What an ominous question. ]
(argh sorry for the delay!)
Anyway. He's been waiting for a moment to stick a pin in the issue and maybe it's better to do it now, in clear black and white. He'd like to see the reaction, but maybe seeing however Aodhan manages to disguise it later will be more interesting.]
I mean it has been difficult, right?
But, I think it would take a ritual because I can say something like that to you and apart from checking no one has an ear to the door you don't think it's crazy.
We don't have rituals, back home. Or magic or -
Some of your books aren't right. They're similar, but not the same. Because this isn't my world. So if something brought me here, it must have been this world's magic. Maybe it was you.
all good!! ❤️
Shit.
The worst part about reading this - it doesn't even occur to him not to believe it, not after everything - is that it's entirely possible that it's true — that he did, personally, through his own stupid meddling, somehow cause this. Maybe if he hadn't looked where he wasn't supposed to, been too curious, tried things he hadn't been expressly shown how to do with Havelock's mirrors in order to see more of this other world and this other life, Gabriel wouldn't have just — appeared in his living room like that, oddly unstable. This, combined with the sudden guilt of having just been doing those exact things, and having just lied about it — ]
I'll be there in fifteen minutes.
[ He'll leave his viola upstairs. It's fine. He needs to go. ]
no subject
[Does Gabe feel a flash of guilt - even the smallest one - at how quickly Aodhan shifts in tone? Maybe.]
I mean. Probably.
[But does he feel satisfied? Absolutely. A little craving in him gets the hit it's been looking for (and it grows to more of an addiction each time). And who can blame him, really? He's lost everything that's been keeping him alive this long, it's important not to lose Aodhan too. After all, he doesn't exactly come from a family known from processing loss well.
Not that any panic shows when Aodhan does get back. He'll find Gabe sitting on the stair rail in the hall, one ankle hooked round a railing and an almost preternatural sense of balance keeping him in place while looking casual about it.
He lifts a hand, matching the greeting with a small smile that could be taken for apologetic, if that's what someone wanted to see.]
So - everybody lived?
no subject
He's not expecting Gabe to appear so immediately in his field of vision, so he startles slightly before his eyes rove over him as if seeing him for the first time, again — looking for what he might have missed.
The question is briefly confusing before, thankfully, Aodhan remembers that there was a conversation before this revelation. ]
Wh — I — yes. The dog, at least, will pull through. Are you all right?
no subject
His own expression is kept mild, a slight hint of confusion dipping his brows.]
Should I not be?
[And then, lips parting in understanding - ]
I didn't mean to freak you out. I was just thinking, that's all - there isn't a lot for me to do apart from that. [And yet here Aodhan is, visibly the more concerned of the two of them. Gabe tilts his head, stepping off his perch and onto the stairs to face him.]
Though now I'm pretty sure I got it right.
august and then work ate me but i persist! <3
[ What is he supposed to do now, lie? Act like that wasn't just his incredibly suspicious reaction? Aodhan sighs and sets his jacket aside, free hand coming up to rake through his hair as he catches his breath. ]
Yes. That is, I — I don't know. [ He shakes his head as if it'll make the pieces of this fall properly in place. They don't. ] I have... reason to believe so.
[ God, admitting even this much out loud is terrifying. But Gabe deserves that much. ]