Magic Under Construction: TOMU #491
Feb. 14th, 2011 12:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alexandraerinStarted: 2/14/2011, 12:00 PM
Status: Under way in fits and starts.
Last Update: 11:00 PM
Word Count: ~2100
Hours Writing: 2.5
[More progress. Slight interruption for a Valentine's Day call from Jack, yay!]
The seconds stretched out in the wake of those oh-so-inadequate words... of course, even without Embries's will fixed against me, it seemed unlikely that I could have summoned a description of what had happened that would be equal to the reality, or even a serviceable model of it. I braced myself for all of the questions I wouldn't be able to answer, the anger and confusion that would surely follow my silence.
When I'd left the room I had felt somewhat in control, for once in my life. I hadn't had a plan, exactly, but I had made up my own mind and taken action. True, it had been the only course of action available to me, but I had chosen to face it on my own rather than be dragged into it kicking and screaming. Now the threat posed by Iona had been ended and the possibility of further repercussions for me seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, and yet I felt completely vulnerable and completely out of control.
I could feel the eyes on me... Amaranth's, and Ian's, and Steff's, and Two's, and Dee's... but I couldn't meet any of their gazes. Even back when I'd had the half-assed plan to hide my heritage I hadn't really expected to make friends like these. Maybe it seemed sad that having even less than a half a dozen people I felt so close to... who I could trust and who trusted me in turn... seemed to me to represent an embarrassing excess of both love and luck, but it did. Maybe it was sad... maybe I was sad. In the weeks since I'd first come to MU, I had been more blessed than I could have dared to hope for, and now I was proving myself as unworthy of that blessing as any other.
I knew they were looking at me expectantly, waiting with patience I hadn't earned for me to elaborate or explain. I lifted my eyes to Amaranth, hoping that from her at least I could plead for some understanding... and discovered that I didn't have to. Where I'd thought to see expectation, there was only concern.
Slowly I looked around and saw much the same thing on the faces of the others. They were all waiting to see if I would say anything else, if I was finished, but nobody was about to demand that I spilled my guts or narrated the whole thing right then and there.
Of course, it seemed obvious in retrospect... they'd all come together for my sake in the first place. If the whole situation had been a plotline on a TV show or something that happened to a distant someone else, any one of them might have wanted answers first and foremost because the mystery, the uncertainty, would have been their only stake in the matter. They had to be curious, but that was a small matter compared to the relief they felt at seeing me and hearing that it was over.
The problem was, they still looked anxious... if anybody had been in a chair, they would have been on the edge of their seat.
"It's going to be okay," I added. "I'm sorry, that's really all I can say."
That's really all I can say I felt a twinge of falling back into old habits with that, as it felt a lot like the way I'd used to step around the truth without technically lying. That wasn't what I was trying to do... I just wanted to let everyone know that they could let out the breaths they were holding. I couldn't say with any certainty that I was or would be okay, but the thing was over, it was over and done with. What had happened wasn't okay, would never be okay... but things in general could only get better.
A lifetime passed in a few moments, then a logjam broke inside of Amaranth and she threw herself forward, fllinging her arms and tears over me.
"I didn't think I'd see you again," she said. "McAvoy said it was best that I forget I ever knew you. I told him... I told him that even... well, I said I was better for knowing you, my life was better and I was better and that I wouldn't forget you no matter what."
Amaranth wasn't exactly a dainty little flower, but the words bowled me over more than the impact or her unfiltered sobs. She sounded so defiant when she said, and proud of it to the point that I could almost believe she meant it... but on some level, I'd always figured I was something of a fixer-up project for Amaranth.
"Why would you say something like that?" I asked her. I didn't doubt that Amaranth loved me, but it seemed to me like our relationship was rooted in how she made me better. I knew she wasn't perfect in any except a purely physical sense, but I couldn't imagine how my presence in her life could improve it or her.
"Because it's true, baby," Amaranth said. "Being with you... loving you, owning you... it's the first real thing I've ever had to be concerned about. The first immediate thing, I should say... the things I've read about and thought about are real, but there really is a difference between making an intellectual stand and actually committing to something, or someone. I have to think about things more... well, I mean, I've always thought about things, but now, with a real person, there are consequences if I'm wrong, and I can't afford to be wrong..."
"Hey," Ian said, coming up behind her and putting a hand on her shoulder. "We're just kids, you know?"
"I'm not," Amaranth sobbed.
"How long have you been out in the world?" he said. "You're a fucking precocious newborn."
"Or a precocious fucking one," Steff said. "You guys want to come in out of the gossip? You'll catch your death of Trina out there."
We drew into the room and Ian shut the door behind us. There was something like a shift in the atmosphere when the door closed. With no predator out there specifically after one of us and no Law agents lurking around, the room felt a bit like a sanctuary again.
Okay, as far as I knew Feejee was still out there, there were plenty of people who hated me, and the room wasn't any more private or secure than it ever had been... but it was like coming in from a very cold place to one that was only kind of warm. The fact that it was warmer was all you cared about.
Actually, that was a pretty good description of what it was like to come back to my room in the winter.
"Here," Ian said, pulling out my desk chair. "You look like you need to sit down."
"I do, thanks," I said, but I guided Amaranth to it and then took my place at her feet. We both needed to sit down, and we needed comfort, and we needed each other... her as much as me.
"Thank you, baby," Amaranth said.
"You're welcome," I said.
Ian handed me my mirror.
"You should probably try to get a hold of Lee, I guess," he said. "He'll be worried."
I started to open the compact, then shook my head and put it up on my desk.
"I'll contact him about something else to let him know I'm okay tomorrow," I said. "I don't know if he's going to get in trouble for trying to warn me or anything, but I think maybe we should leave him with whatever shred of plausible deniability he might have. And thank you for your help, everyone... it means a lot."
"Collectively, we accomplished nothing," Dee said, and I had another random insight: everyone in the room, except maybe for Two, felt as inadequate as I did. They didn't know what I'd been through but even if they couldn't begin to imagine how bad it was, they knew it wasn't good and that I'd faced it alone.
"You gave me some idea of what I was heading towards," I said.
[][][][]
"You know, when I first learned what you were, I didn't have to think twice about standing up for you because I'd already thought about it so many times before. Not half-demons specifically, or you in particular, but... well, I was petty sure that I was going to be amazingly tolerant of every race before I met anyone who wasn't a member of a really pretty widely-accepted race."
"And you were right," I said. "You are. Amaranth, I couldn't ask for someone more understanding than you..."
"I'm not, though," she said. "I wasnt... I didn't understand anything. I thought I could just, you know, smile and tell you that it wasn't a big deal... and everyone else would follow my lead. I mean, I think I'm well-liked enough, and I'm smart... and racial prejudices are so silly and backwards, I thought I could show people a more reasonable alternative and that would be all it would take. Like, no one ever thought of that before or something."
"Okay, that is pretty patronizing," Steff said. "But it could be worse... you could be one of those people who thinks because there's sometimes a hobgoblin in a TV show and we don't have thrice daily lynchings that there isn't any more racism. Or you could be Shiel. What I'm saying is, there are some much worse froshes than you."
"What the hell is that, the past tense of 'to fresh'?" Ian asked.
"It means first year," Steff said.
"I know what it means, I just don't see how it makes sense," Ian said. "Etymologically. Why not just 'fresh'? It's like somebody's pointless in-joke somehow got turned into the PC term."
"I don't know," Steff said. She shrugged. "I latched onto it because it beats being called any kind of a man all the time. A word's origins don't have to make sense as long as the word does."
"I suppose," Ian said. "I mean, what the hell does 'sophomore' even mean?"
"'Wise fool'," I said. "From the Elvish, 'sophos' and 'moros'."
"Actually, that's a myth," Amaranth said, regaining her composure a bit. "It just means someone who's grown in wisdom. It was only a few hundred years ago that the spelling became standardized as '-omore', and the connection to 'moros' arose later as a folk etymology."
"Actually, you're both wrong," Steff said. "It's from an old Elvish words''sophom', meaning 'your first album', and 'oros', meaning 'was way better'.
[][][][][][][][]
"I apologize that I was not able to follow you," Dee said. "There was too much scrutiny on your route, and not enough cover away from the building." Her head dipped, and I saw shame in the gesture. "I I lost my nerve... I do not trust myself under a starry sky."
"You tried," I said. Telling her that she wouldn't have been able to make it inside even if she had been able to follow us to our destination probably wouldn't have been the best way to make her feel less inadequate, so instead I just said, "I don't think it mattered, in the end."
"I suppose not," she said. "But your distress is palpable, and I regret that I did not try harder."
"Hey, if you got yourself expelled from the Imperium, wouldn't your goddess be kind of pissed?" Steff said. "You said you're here because it's her will. You have to think about that."
"I do not know the reason that I was meant to be here," Dee said.
"Do you really think it was to help me?" I asked.
"It does not strike me as the most likely course of events, but it seems no more particularly unlikely to me than the idea that she should send me forth on behalf of any other person," Dee said.
[2 hours. Starting to shape up a lot more.]
The seconds stretched out in the wake of those oh-so-inadequate words... of course, even without Embries's will fixed against me, it seemed unlikely that I could have summoned a description of what had happened that would be equal to the reality, or even a serviceable model of it. I braced myself for all of the questions I wouldn't be able to answer, the anger and confusion that would surely follow my silence.
When I'd left the room I had felt somewhat in control, for once in my life. I hadn't had a plan, exactly, but I had made up my own mind and taken action. True, it had been the only course of action available to me, but I had chosen to face it on my own rather than be dragged into it kicking and screaming. Now the threat posed by Iona had been ended and the possibility of further repercussions for me seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, and yet I felt completely vulnerable and completely out of control.
I could feel the eyes on me... Amaranth's, and Ian's, and Steff's, and Two's, and Dee's... but I couldn't meet any of their gazes. Even back when I'd had the half-assed plan to hide my heritage I hadn't really expected to make friends like these. Maybe it seemed sad that having even less than a half a dozen people I felt so close to... who I could trust and who trusted me in turn... seemed to me to represent an embarrassing excess of both love and luck, but it did. Maybe it was sad... maybe I was sad. In the weeks since I'd first come to MU, I had been more blessed than I could have dared to hope for, and now I was proving myself as unworthy of that blessing as any other.
I knew they were looking at me expectantly, waiting with patience I hadn't earned for me to elaborate or explain. I lifted my eyes to Amaranth, hoping that from her at least I could plead for some understanding... and discovered that I didn't have to. Where I'd thought to see expectation, there was only concern.
Slowly I looked around and saw much the same thing on the faces of the others. They were all waiting to see if I would say anything else, if I was finished, but nobody was about to demand that I spilled my guts or narrated the whole thing right then and there.
Of course, it seemed obvious in retrospect... they'd all come together for my sake in the first place. If the whole situation had been a plotline on a TV show or something that happened to a distant someone else, any one of them might have wanted answers first and foremost because the mystery, the uncertainty, would have been their only stake in the matter. They had to be curious, but that was a small matter compared to the relief they felt at seeing me and hearing that it was over.
The problem was, they still looked anxious... if anybody had been in a chair, they would have been on the edge of their seat.
"It's going to be okay," I added. "I'm sorry, that's really all I can say."
That's really all I can say I felt a twinge of falling back into old habits with that, as it felt a lot like the way I'd used to step around the truth without technically lying. That wasn't what I was trying to do... I just wanted to let everyone know that they could let out the breaths they were holding. I couldn't say with any certainty that I was or would be okay, but the thing was over, it was over and done with. What had happened wasn't okay, would never be okay... but things in general could only get better.
A lifetime passed in a few moments, then a logjam broke inside of Amaranth and she threw herself forward, fllinging her arms and tears over me.
"I didn't think I'd see you again," she said. "McAvoy said it was best that I forget I ever knew you. I told him... I told him that even... well, I said I was better for knowing you, my life was better and I was better and that I wouldn't forget you no matter what."
Amaranth wasn't exactly a dainty little flower, but the words bowled me over more than the impact or her unfiltered sobs. She sounded so defiant when she said, and proud of it to the point that I could almost believe she meant it... but on some level, I'd always figured I was something of a fixer-up project for Amaranth.
"Why would you say something like that?" I asked her. I didn't doubt that Amaranth loved me, but it seemed to me like our relationship was rooted in how she made me better. I knew she wasn't perfect in any except a purely physical sense, but I couldn't imagine how my presence in her life could improve it or her.
"Because it's true, baby," Amaranth said. "Being with you... loving you, owning you... it's the first real thing I've ever had to be concerned about. The first immediate thing, I should say... the things I've read about and thought about are real, but there really is a difference between making an intellectual stand and actually committing to something, or someone. I have to think about things more... well, I mean, I've always thought about things, but now, with a real person, there are consequences if I'm wrong, and I can't afford to be wrong..."
"Hey," Ian said, coming up behind her and putting a hand on her shoulder. "We're just kids, you know?"
"I'm not," Amaranth sobbed.
"How long have you been out in the world?" he said. "You're a fucking precocious newborn."
"Or a precocious fucking one," Steff said. "You guys want to come in out of the gossip? You'll catch your death of Trina out there."
We drew into the room and Ian shut the door behind us.
"Here," Ian said, pulling out my desk chair. "You look like you need to sit down."
"I do," I said, but I guided Amaranth to it and then took my place at her feet. We both needed to sit down, and we needed comfort, and we needed each other... her as much as me.
"Thank you, baby," Amaranth said. "You know, when I first learned what you were, I didn't have to think twice about standing up for you because I'd already thought about it so many times before. Not half-demons specifically, or you in particular, but... well, I was petty sure that I was going to be amazingly tolerant of every race before I met anyone who wasn't a member of a really pretty widely-accepted race."
"And you were right," I said. "You are. Amaranth, I couldn't ask for someone more understanding than you..."
"I'm not, though," she said. "I wasnt... I didn't understand anything. I thought I could just, you know, smile and tell you that it wasn't a big deal... and everyone else would follow my lead. I mean, I think I'm well-liked enough, and I'm smart... and racial prejudices are so silly and backwards, I thought I could show people a more reasonable alternative and that would be all it would take. Like, no one ever thought of that before or something."
"Okay, that is pretty patronizing," Steff said. "But it could be worse... you could be one of those people who thinks because there's sometimes a hobgoblin in a TV show and we don't have thrice daily lynchings that there isn't any more racism. Or you could be Shiel. What I'm saying is, there are some much worse froshes than you."
"What the hell is that, the past tense of 'to fresh'?" Ian asked.
"It means first year," Steff said.
"I know what it means, I just don't see how it makes sense," Ian said. "Etymologically. Why not just 'fresh'? It's like somebody's pointless in-joke somehow got turned into the PC term."
"I don't know," Steff said. She shrugged. "I latched onto it because it beats being called any kind of a man all the time."
[][][][][][][][]
"I apologize that I was not able to follow you," Dee said. "There was too much scrutiny on your route, and not enough cover away from the building." Her head dipped, and I saw shame in the gesture. "I I lost my nerve... I do not trust myself under a starry sky."
"You tried," I said. Telling her that she wouldn't have been able to make it inside even if she had been able to follow us to our destination probably wouldn't have been the best way to make her feel less inadequate, so instead I just said, "I don't think it mattered, in the end."
"I suppose not," she said. "But your distress is palpable, and I regret that I did not try harder."
"Hey, if you got yourself expelled from the Imperium, wouldn't your goddess be kind of pissed?" Steff said. "You said you're here because it's her will. You have to think about that."
"I do not know the reason that I was meant to be here," Dee said.
"Do you really think it was to help me?" I asked.
"It does not strike me as the most likely course of events, but it seems no more particularly unlikely to me than the idea that she should send me forth on behalf of any other person," Dee said.
[1.5 hours. I know where I need to be going and I'm getting there, but it's still very "draft-like". I think I might need to try a different approach for filling this one out.]
The seconds stretched out in the wake of those oh-so-inadequate words... of course, even without Embries's will fixed against me, it seemed unlikely that I could have summoned a description of what had happened that would be equal to the reality, or even a serviceable model of it. I braced myself for all of the questions I wouldn't be able to answer, the anger and confusion that would surely follow my silence.
When I'd left the room I had felt somewhat in control, for once in my life. I hadn't had a plan, exactly, but I had made up my own mind and taken action. True, it had been the only course of action available to me, but I had chosen to face it on my own rather than be dragged into it kicking and screaming. Now the threat posed by Iona had been ended and the possibility of further repercussions for me seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, and yet I felt completely vulnerable and completely out of control.
I could feel the eyes on me... Amaranth's, and Ian's, and Steff's, and Two's, and Dee's... but I couldn't meet any of their gazes. Even back when I'd had the half-assed plan to hide my heritage I hadn't really expected to make friends like these. Maybe it seemed sad that having even less than a half a dozen people I felt so close to... who I could trust and who trusted me in turn... seemed to me to represent an embarrassing excess of both love and luck, but it did. Maybe it was sad... maybe I was sad. In the weeks since I'd first come to MU, I had been more blessed than I could have dared to hope for, and now I was proving myself as unworthy of that blessing as any other.
I knew they were looking at me expectantly, waiting with patience I hadn't earned for me to elaborate or explain. I lifted my eyes to Amaranth, hoping that from her at least I could plead for some understanding... and discovered that I didn't have to. Where I'd thought to see expectation, there was only concern.
Slowly I looked around and saw much the same thing on the faces of the others. They were all waiting to see if I would say anything else, if I was finished, but nobody was about to demand that I spilled my guts or narrated the whole thing right then and there.
"That's really all I can say," I said. I felt a twinge of falling back into old habits with that, as it felt a lot like the way I'd used to step around the truth without technically lying. That wasn't what I was trying to do... I just wanted to let everyone know that they could let out the breaths they were holding.
Of course, it seemed obvious in retrospect... they'd all come together for my sake in the first place. If the whole situation had been a plotline on a TV show or something that happened to a distant someone else, any one of them might have wanted answers first and foremost because the mystery, the uncertainty, would have been their only stake in the matter. They had to be curious, but that was a small matter compared to the relief they felt at seeing me and hearing that it was over.
"McAvoy didn't think I'd see you again," Amaranth said. "After you left with Kent, he said it was best that I forgot I ever knew you. I told him that even if... well, I said that I was better for knowing you and that I wouldn't forget you no matter what."
She sounded so defiant when she said, and proud of it... I wasn't sure if she was proud of having been defiant or about []
"Why would you say something like that?" I asked. I knew Amaranth wasn't perfect in any except a purely physical sense, but I couldn't imagine how my presence in her life could improve it or her.
"Because it's true, baby," Amaranth said. "Being with you... loving you, owning you... it's the first real thing I've ever had to be concerned about. The first immediate thing, I should say... the things I've read about and thought about are real, but there really is a difference between making an intellectual stand and actually committing to something, or someone."
"Hey," Ian said, "there's nothing wrong with learning about the world through books. I mean, at least you were interested in learning."
"Maybe so," Amaranth said, "But it's not at all the same as being out there in the world." She turned back towards me. "You know, when I first learned what you were, I didn't have to think twice about standing up for you because I'd already thought about it so many times before. Not half-demons specifically, or you in particular, but... well, I was petty sure that I was going to be amazingly tolerant of every race before I met anyone who wasn't a member of a widely-tolerated race."
"And you were right," I said. "You are. Amaranth, I couldn't ask for someone more understanding than you..."
"I'm not, though," she said. "I wasnt... I didn't understand anything. I thought I could just, you know, smile and tell you that it wasn't a big deal... and everyone else would follow my lead. I mean, I think I'm well-liked enough, and I'm smart... and racial prejudices are so silly and backwards, I thought I could show people a more reasonable alternative."
[][][][][][][][]
"I apologize that I was not able to follow you," Dee said. "There was too much scrutiny on your route, and not enough cover away from the building." Her head dipped, and I saw shame in the gesture. "I I lost my nerve... I do not trust myself under a starry sky."
"You tried," I said. Telling her that she wouldn't have been able to make it inside even if she had been able to follow us to our destination probably wouldn't have been the best way to make her feel less inadequate, so instead I just said, "I don't think it mattered, in the end."
"I suppose not," she said. "But your distress is palpable, and I regret that I did not try harder."
"Hey, if you got yourself expelled from the Imperium, wouldn't your goddess be kind of pissed?" Steff said. "You said you're here because it's her will. You have to think about that."
"I do not know the reason that I was meant to be here," Dee said.
"Do you really think it was to help me?" I asked.
"It does not strike me as the most likely course of events, but it seems no more particularly unlikely to me than the idea that she should send me forth on behalf of any other person," Dee said.
[One hour in. Still fairly rough, haven't really smoothed out or cleaned anything up. 900 words is not a bad hour's work, but things slowed down in the second half hour mostly because I'm getting hungry. Going to break and come back to it in the afternoon.]
The seconds stretched out in the wake of those oh-so-inadequate words... of course, even without Embries's will fixed against me, it seemed unlikely that I could have summoned a description of what had happened that would be equal to the reality, or even a serviceable model of it. I braced myself for all of the questions I wouldn't be able to answer, the anger and confusion that would surely follow my silence.
When I'd left the room I had felt somewhat in control, for once in my life. I hadn't had a plan, exactly, but I had made up my own mind and taken action. True, it had been the only course of action available to me, but I had chosen to face it on my own rather than be dragged into it kicking and screaming. Now the threat posed by Iona had been ended and the possibility of further repercussions for me seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, and yet I felt completely vulnerable and completely out of control.
I could feel the eyes on me... Amaranth's, and Ian's, and Steff's, and Two's, and Dee's... but I couldn't meet any of their gazes. Even back when I'd had the half-assed plan to hide my heritage I hadn't really expected to make friends like these. Maybe it seemed sad that having even less than a half a dozen people I felt so close to... who I could trust and who trusted me in turn... seemed to me to represent an embarrassing excess of both love and luck, but it did. Maybe it was sad... maybe I was sad. In the weeks since I'd first come to MU, I had been more blessed than I could have dared to hope for, and now I was proving myself as unworthy of that blessing as any other.
I knew they were looking at me expectantly, waiting with patience I hadn't earned for me to elaborate or explain. I lifted my eyes to Amaranth, hoping that from her at least I could plead for some understanding... and discovered that I didn't have to. Where I'd thought to see expectation, there was only concern.
Slowly I looked around and saw much the same thing on the faces of the others. They were all waiting to see if I would say anything else, if I was finished, but nobody was about to demand that I spilled my guts or narrated the whole thing right then and there.
"That's really all I can say," I said. I felt a twinge of falling back into old habits with that, as it felt a lot like the way I'd used to step around the truth without technically lying. That wasn't what I was trying to do... I just wanted to let everyone know that they could let out the breaths they were holding.
Of course, it seemed obvious in retrospect... they'd all come together for my sake in the first place. If the whole situation had been a plotline on a TV show or something that happened to a distant someone else, any one of them might have wanted answers first and foremost because the mystery, the uncertainty, would have been their only stake in the matter. They had to be curious, but that was a small matter compared to the relief they felt at seeing me and hearing that it was over.
"McAvoy didn't think I'd see you again," Amaranth said. "After you left with Kent, he said it was best that I forgot I ever knew you. I told him that even if... well, I said that I was better for knowing you and that I wouldn't forget you no matter what."
"Why would you say something like that?" I asked. I knew Amaranth wasn't perfect in any except a purely physical sense, but I couldn't imagine how my presence in her life could improve it or her.
"Because it's true, baby," Amaranth said. "Being with you... loving you, owning you... it's the first real thing I've ever had to be concerned about. The first immediate thing, I should say."
[][][][][][][][]
"I apologize that I was not able to follow you," Dee said. "There was too much scrutiny on your route, and not enough cover away from the building." Her head dipped, and I saw shame in the gesture. "I I lost my nerve... I do not trust myself under a starry sky."
"You tried," I said. Telling her that she wouldn't have been able to make it inside even if she had been able to follow us to our destination probably wouldn't have been the best way to make her feel less inadequate, so instead I just said, "I don't think it mattered, in the end."
"I suppose not," she said. "But your distress is palpable, and I regret that I did not try harder."
"Hey, if you got yourself expelled from the Imperium, wouldn't your goddess be kind of pissed?" Steff said. "You said you're here because it's her will. You have to think about that."
"I do not know the reason that I was meant to be here," Dee said.
"Do you really think it was to help me?" I asked.
"It does not strike me as the most likely course of events, but it seems no more particularly unlikely to me than the idea that she should send me forth on behalf of any other person," Dee said.
[Beginning, after half an hour. Pretty rough so far. Not all of this may remain, or be in the same order in the finished chapter. We're getting into emotional resolution territory.]
The seconds stretched out in the wake of those oh-so-inadequate words... of course, even without Embries's will fixed against me, it seemed unlikely that I could have summoned a description of what had happened that would be equal to the reality, or even a serviceable model of it. I braced myself for all of the questions I wouldn't be able to answer, the anger and confusion that would surely follow my silence.
When I'd left the room I had felt somewhat in control, for once in my life. I hadn't had a plan, exactly, but I had made up my own mind and taken action. True, it had been the only course of action available to me, but I had chosen to face it on my own rather than be dragged into it kicking and screaming. Now the threat posed by Iona had been ended and the possibility of further repercussions for me seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, and yet I felt completely vulnerable and completely out of control.
I could feel the eyes on me... Amaranth's, and Ian's, and Steff's, and Two's, and Dee's... but I couldn't meet any of their gazes. Even back when I'd had the half-assed plan to hide my heritage I hadn't really expected to make friends like these. Maybe it seemed sad that having even less than a half a dozen people I felt so close to... who I could trust and who trusted me in turn... seemed to me to represent an embarrassing excess of both love and luck, but it did. Maybe it was sad... maybe I was sad. In the weeks since I'd first come to MU, I had been more blessed than I could have dared to hope for, and now I was proving myself as unworthy of that blessing as any other.
I knew they were looking at me expectantly, waiting with patience I hadn't earned for me to elaborate or explain. I lifted my eyes to Amaranth, hoping that from her at least I could plead for some understanding... and discovered that I didn't have to. Where I'd thought to see expectation, there was only concern.
Of course, it seemed obvious in retrospect... they'd all come together for my sake in the first place. If the whole situation had been a plotline on a TV show or something that happened to a distant someone else, any one of them might have wanted answers first and foremost because the mystery, the uncertainty, would have been their only stake in the matter.
[][][][][]
"McAvoy didn't think I'd see you again," Amaranth said. "After you left with Kent, he said it was best that I forgot I ever knew you. I told him that even if... well, I said that I was better for knowing you and that I wouldn't forget you no matter what."
"Why would you say something like that?" I asked. I knew Amaranth wasn't perfect in any except a purely physical sense, but I couldn't imagine how my presence in her life could improve it or her.
"Because it's true, baby," Amaranth said. "Being with you... loving you, owning you... it's the first real thing I've ever had to be concerned about. The first immediate thing, I should say."
[][][][][][][][]
"I apologize that I was not able to follow you," Dee said. "There was too much scrutiny on your route, and not enough cover away from the building." Her head dipped, and I saw shame in the gesture. "I I lost my nerve... I do not trust myself under a starry sky."
Status: Under way in fits and starts.
Last Update: 11:00 PM
Word Count: ~2100
Hours Writing: 2.5
[More progress. Slight interruption for a Valentine's Day call from Jack, yay!]
The seconds stretched out in the wake of those oh-so-inadequate words... of course, even without Embries's will fixed against me, it seemed unlikely that I could have summoned a description of what had happened that would be equal to the reality, or even a serviceable model of it. I braced myself for all of the questions I wouldn't be able to answer, the anger and confusion that would surely follow my silence.
When I'd left the room I had felt somewhat in control, for once in my life. I hadn't had a plan, exactly, but I had made up my own mind and taken action. True, it had been the only course of action available to me, but I had chosen to face it on my own rather than be dragged into it kicking and screaming. Now the threat posed by Iona had been ended and the possibility of further repercussions for me seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, and yet I felt completely vulnerable and completely out of control.
I could feel the eyes on me... Amaranth's, and Ian's, and Steff's, and Two's, and Dee's... but I couldn't meet any of their gazes. Even back when I'd had the half-assed plan to hide my heritage I hadn't really expected to make friends like these. Maybe it seemed sad that having even less than a half a dozen people I felt so close to... who I could trust and who trusted me in turn... seemed to me to represent an embarrassing excess of both love and luck, but it did. Maybe it was sad... maybe I was sad. In the weeks since I'd first come to MU, I had been more blessed than I could have dared to hope for, and now I was proving myself as unworthy of that blessing as any other.
I knew they were looking at me expectantly, waiting with patience I hadn't earned for me to elaborate or explain. I lifted my eyes to Amaranth, hoping that from her at least I could plead for some understanding... and discovered that I didn't have to. Where I'd thought to see expectation, there was only concern.
Slowly I looked around and saw much the same thing on the faces of the others. They were all waiting to see if I would say anything else, if I was finished, but nobody was about to demand that I spilled my guts or narrated the whole thing right then and there.
Of course, it seemed obvious in retrospect... they'd all come together for my sake in the first place. If the whole situation had been a plotline on a TV show or something that happened to a distant someone else, any one of them might have wanted answers first and foremost because the mystery, the uncertainty, would have been their only stake in the matter. They had to be curious, but that was a small matter compared to the relief they felt at seeing me and hearing that it was over.
The problem was, they still looked anxious... if anybody had been in a chair, they would have been on the edge of their seat.
"It's going to be okay," I added. "I'm sorry, that's really all I can say."
That's really all I can say I felt a twinge of falling back into old habits with that, as it felt a lot like the way I'd used to step around the truth without technically lying. That wasn't what I was trying to do... I just wanted to let everyone know that they could let out the breaths they were holding. I couldn't say with any certainty that I was or would be okay, but the thing was over, it was over and done with. What had happened wasn't okay, would never be okay... but things in general could only get better.
A lifetime passed in a few moments, then a logjam broke inside of Amaranth and she threw herself forward, fllinging her arms and tears over me.
"I didn't think I'd see you again," she said. "McAvoy said it was best that I forget I ever knew you. I told him... I told him that even... well, I said I was better for knowing you, my life was better and I was better and that I wouldn't forget you no matter what."
Amaranth wasn't exactly a dainty little flower, but the words bowled me over more than the impact or her unfiltered sobs. She sounded so defiant when she said, and proud of it to the point that I could almost believe she meant it... but on some level, I'd always figured I was something of a fixer-up project for Amaranth.
"Why would you say something like that?" I asked her. I didn't doubt that Amaranth loved me, but it seemed to me like our relationship was rooted in how she made me better. I knew she wasn't perfect in any except a purely physical sense, but I couldn't imagine how my presence in her life could improve it or her.
"Because it's true, baby," Amaranth said. "Being with you... loving you, owning you... it's the first real thing I've ever had to be concerned about. The first immediate thing, I should say... the things I've read about and thought about are real, but there really is a difference between making an intellectual stand and actually committing to something, or someone. I have to think about things more... well, I mean, I've always thought about things, but now, with a real person, there are consequences if I'm wrong, and I can't afford to be wrong..."
"Hey," Ian said, coming up behind her and putting a hand on her shoulder. "We're just kids, you know?"
"I'm not," Amaranth sobbed.
"How long have you been out in the world?" he said. "You're a fucking precocious newborn."
"Or a precocious fucking one," Steff said. "You guys want to come in out of the gossip? You'll catch your death of Trina out there."
We drew into the room and Ian shut the door behind us. There was something like a shift in the atmosphere when the door closed. With no predator out there specifically after one of us and no Law agents lurking around, the room felt a bit like a sanctuary again.
Okay, as far as I knew Feejee was still out there, there were plenty of people who hated me, and the room wasn't any more private or secure than it ever had been... but it was like coming in from a very cold place to one that was only kind of warm. The fact that it was warmer was all you cared about.
Actually, that was a pretty good description of what it was like to come back to my room in the winter.
"Here," Ian said, pulling out my desk chair. "You look like you need to sit down."
"I do, thanks," I said, but I guided Amaranth to it and then took my place at her feet. We both needed to sit down, and we needed comfort, and we needed each other... her as much as me.
"Thank you, baby," Amaranth said.
"You're welcome," I said.
Ian handed me my mirror.
"You should probably try to get a hold of Lee, I guess," he said. "He'll be worried."
I started to open the compact, then shook my head and put it up on my desk.
"I'll contact him about something else to let him know I'm okay tomorrow," I said. "I don't know if he's going to get in trouble for trying to warn me or anything, but I think maybe we should leave him with whatever shred of plausible deniability he might have. And thank you for your help, everyone... it means a lot."
"Collectively, we accomplished nothing," Dee said, and I had another random insight: everyone in the room, except maybe for Two, felt as inadequate as I did. They didn't know what I'd been through but even if they couldn't begin to imagine how bad it was, they knew it wasn't good and that I'd faced it alone.
"You gave me some idea of what I was heading towards," I said.
[][][][]
"You know, when I first learned what you were, I didn't have to think twice about standing up for you because I'd already thought about it so many times before. Not half-demons specifically, or you in particular, but... well, I was petty sure that I was going to be amazingly tolerant of every race before I met anyone who wasn't a member of a really pretty widely-accepted race."
"And you were right," I said. "You are. Amaranth, I couldn't ask for someone more understanding than you..."
"I'm not, though," she said. "I wasnt... I didn't understand anything. I thought I could just, you know, smile and tell you that it wasn't a big deal... and everyone else would follow my lead. I mean, I think I'm well-liked enough, and I'm smart... and racial prejudices are so silly and backwards, I thought I could show people a more reasonable alternative and that would be all it would take. Like, no one ever thought of that before or something."
"Okay, that is pretty patronizing," Steff said. "But it could be worse... you could be one of those people who thinks because there's sometimes a hobgoblin in a TV show and we don't have thrice daily lynchings that there isn't any more racism. Or you could be Shiel. What I'm saying is, there are some much worse froshes than you."
"What the hell is that, the past tense of 'to fresh'?" Ian asked.
"It means first year," Steff said.
"I know what it means, I just don't see how it makes sense," Ian said. "Etymologically. Why not just 'fresh'? It's like somebody's pointless in-joke somehow got turned into the PC term."
"I don't know," Steff said. She shrugged. "I latched onto it because it beats being called any kind of a man all the time. A word's origins don't have to make sense as long as the word does."
"I suppose," Ian said. "I mean, what the hell does 'sophomore' even mean?"
"'Wise fool'," I said. "From the Elvish, 'sophos' and 'moros'."
"Actually, that's a myth," Amaranth said, regaining her composure a bit. "It just means someone who's grown in wisdom. It was only a few hundred years ago that the spelling became standardized as '-omore', and the connection to 'moros' arose later as a folk etymology."
"Actually, you're both wrong," Steff said. "It's from an old Elvish words''sophom', meaning 'your first album', and 'oros', meaning 'was way better'.
[][][][][][][][]
"I apologize that I was not able to follow you," Dee said. "There was too much scrutiny on your route, and not enough cover away from the building." Her head dipped, and I saw shame in the gesture. "I I lost my nerve... I do not trust myself under a starry sky."
"You tried," I said. Telling her that she wouldn't have been able to make it inside even if she had been able to follow us to our destination probably wouldn't have been the best way to make her feel less inadequate, so instead I just said, "I don't think it mattered, in the end."
"I suppose not," she said. "But your distress is palpable, and I regret that I did not try harder."
"Hey, if you got yourself expelled from the Imperium, wouldn't your goddess be kind of pissed?" Steff said. "You said you're here because it's her will. You have to think about that."
"I do not know the reason that I was meant to be here," Dee said.
"Do you really think it was to help me?" I asked.
"It does not strike me as the most likely course of events, but it seems no more particularly unlikely to me than the idea that she should send me forth on behalf of any other person," Dee said.
[2 hours. Starting to shape up a lot more.]
The seconds stretched out in the wake of those oh-so-inadequate words... of course, even without Embries's will fixed against me, it seemed unlikely that I could have summoned a description of what had happened that would be equal to the reality, or even a serviceable model of it. I braced myself for all of the questions I wouldn't be able to answer, the anger and confusion that would surely follow my silence.
When I'd left the room I had felt somewhat in control, for once in my life. I hadn't had a plan, exactly, but I had made up my own mind and taken action. True, it had been the only course of action available to me, but I had chosen to face it on my own rather than be dragged into it kicking and screaming. Now the threat posed by Iona had been ended and the possibility of further repercussions for me seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, and yet I felt completely vulnerable and completely out of control.
I could feel the eyes on me... Amaranth's, and Ian's, and Steff's, and Two's, and Dee's... but I couldn't meet any of their gazes. Even back when I'd had the half-assed plan to hide my heritage I hadn't really expected to make friends like these. Maybe it seemed sad that having even less than a half a dozen people I felt so close to... who I could trust and who trusted me in turn... seemed to me to represent an embarrassing excess of both love and luck, but it did. Maybe it was sad... maybe I was sad. In the weeks since I'd first come to MU, I had been more blessed than I could have dared to hope for, and now I was proving myself as unworthy of that blessing as any other.
I knew they were looking at me expectantly, waiting with patience I hadn't earned for me to elaborate or explain. I lifted my eyes to Amaranth, hoping that from her at least I could plead for some understanding... and discovered that I didn't have to. Where I'd thought to see expectation, there was only concern.
Slowly I looked around and saw much the same thing on the faces of the others. They were all waiting to see if I would say anything else, if I was finished, but nobody was about to demand that I spilled my guts or narrated the whole thing right then and there.
Of course, it seemed obvious in retrospect... they'd all come together for my sake in the first place. If the whole situation had been a plotline on a TV show or something that happened to a distant someone else, any one of them might have wanted answers first and foremost because the mystery, the uncertainty, would have been their only stake in the matter. They had to be curious, but that was a small matter compared to the relief they felt at seeing me and hearing that it was over.
The problem was, they still looked anxious... if anybody had been in a chair, they would have been on the edge of their seat.
"It's going to be okay," I added. "I'm sorry, that's really all I can say."
That's really all I can say I felt a twinge of falling back into old habits with that, as it felt a lot like the way I'd used to step around the truth without technically lying. That wasn't what I was trying to do... I just wanted to let everyone know that they could let out the breaths they were holding. I couldn't say with any certainty that I was or would be okay, but the thing was over, it was over and done with. What had happened wasn't okay, would never be okay... but things in general could only get better.
A lifetime passed in a few moments, then a logjam broke inside of Amaranth and she threw herself forward, fllinging her arms and tears over me.
"I didn't think I'd see you again," she said. "McAvoy said it was best that I forget I ever knew you. I told him... I told him that even... well, I said I was better for knowing you, my life was better and I was better and that I wouldn't forget you no matter what."
Amaranth wasn't exactly a dainty little flower, but the words bowled me over more than the impact or her unfiltered sobs. She sounded so defiant when she said, and proud of it to the point that I could almost believe she meant it... but on some level, I'd always figured I was something of a fixer-up project for Amaranth.
"Why would you say something like that?" I asked her. I didn't doubt that Amaranth loved me, but it seemed to me like our relationship was rooted in how she made me better. I knew she wasn't perfect in any except a purely physical sense, but I couldn't imagine how my presence in her life could improve it or her.
"Because it's true, baby," Amaranth said. "Being with you... loving you, owning you... it's the first real thing I've ever had to be concerned about. The first immediate thing, I should say... the things I've read about and thought about are real, but there really is a difference between making an intellectual stand and actually committing to something, or someone. I have to think about things more... well, I mean, I've always thought about things, but now, with a real person, there are consequences if I'm wrong, and I can't afford to be wrong..."
"Hey," Ian said, coming up behind her and putting a hand on her shoulder. "We're just kids, you know?"
"I'm not," Amaranth sobbed.
"How long have you been out in the world?" he said. "You're a fucking precocious newborn."
"Or a precocious fucking one," Steff said. "You guys want to come in out of the gossip? You'll catch your death of Trina out there."
We drew into the room and Ian shut the door behind us.
"Here," Ian said, pulling out my desk chair. "You look like you need to sit down."
"I do," I said, but I guided Amaranth to it and then took my place at her feet. We both needed to sit down, and we needed comfort, and we needed each other... her as much as me.
"Thank you, baby," Amaranth said. "You know, when I first learned what you were, I didn't have to think twice about standing up for you because I'd already thought about it so many times before. Not half-demons specifically, or you in particular, but... well, I was petty sure that I was going to be amazingly tolerant of every race before I met anyone who wasn't a member of a really pretty widely-accepted race."
"And you were right," I said. "You are. Amaranth, I couldn't ask for someone more understanding than you..."
"I'm not, though," she said. "I wasnt... I didn't understand anything. I thought I could just, you know, smile and tell you that it wasn't a big deal... and everyone else would follow my lead. I mean, I think I'm well-liked enough, and I'm smart... and racial prejudices are so silly and backwards, I thought I could show people a more reasonable alternative and that would be all it would take. Like, no one ever thought of that before or something."
"Okay, that is pretty patronizing," Steff said. "But it could be worse... you could be one of those people who thinks because there's sometimes a hobgoblin in a TV show and we don't have thrice daily lynchings that there isn't any more racism. Or you could be Shiel. What I'm saying is, there are some much worse froshes than you."
"What the hell is that, the past tense of 'to fresh'?" Ian asked.
"It means first year," Steff said.
"I know what it means, I just don't see how it makes sense," Ian said. "Etymologically. Why not just 'fresh'? It's like somebody's pointless in-joke somehow got turned into the PC term."
"I don't know," Steff said. She shrugged. "I latched onto it because it beats being called any kind of a man all the time."
[][][][][][][][]
"I apologize that I was not able to follow you," Dee said. "There was too much scrutiny on your route, and not enough cover away from the building." Her head dipped, and I saw shame in the gesture. "I I lost my nerve... I do not trust myself under a starry sky."
"You tried," I said. Telling her that she wouldn't have been able to make it inside even if she had been able to follow us to our destination probably wouldn't have been the best way to make her feel less inadequate, so instead I just said, "I don't think it mattered, in the end."
"I suppose not," she said. "But your distress is palpable, and I regret that I did not try harder."
"Hey, if you got yourself expelled from the Imperium, wouldn't your goddess be kind of pissed?" Steff said. "You said you're here because it's her will. You have to think about that."
"I do not know the reason that I was meant to be here," Dee said.
"Do you really think it was to help me?" I asked.
"It does not strike me as the most likely course of events, but it seems no more particularly unlikely to me than the idea that she should send me forth on behalf of any other person," Dee said.
[1.5 hours. I know where I need to be going and I'm getting there, but it's still very "draft-like". I think I might need to try a different approach for filling this one out.]
The seconds stretched out in the wake of those oh-so-inadequate words... of course, even without Embries's will fixed against me, it seemed unlikely that I could have summoned a description of what had happened that would be equal to the reality, or even a serviceable model of it. I braced myself for all of the questions I wouldn't be able to answer, the anger and confusion that would surely follow my silence.
When I'd left the room I had felt somewhat in control, for once in my life. I hadn't had a plan, exactly, but I had made up my own mind and taken action. True, it had been the only course of action available to me, but I had chosen to face it on my own rather than be dragged into it kicking and screaming. Now the threat posed by Iona had been ended and the possibility of further repercussions for me seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, and yet I felt completely vulnerable and completely out of control.
I could feel the eyes on me... Amaranth's, and Ian's, and Steff's, and Two's, and Dee's... but I couldn't meet any of their gazes. Even back when I'd had the half-assed plan to hide my heritage I hadn't really expected to make friends like these. Maybe it seemed sad that having even less than a half a dozen people I felt so close to... who I could trust and who trusted me in turn... seemed to me to represent an embarrassing excess of both love and luck, but it did. Maybe it was sad... maybe I was sad. In the weeks since I'd first come to MU, I had been more blessed than I could have dared to hope for, and now I was proving myself as unworthy of that blessing as any other.
I knew they were looking at me expectantly, waiting with patience I hadn't earned for me to elaborate or explain. I lifted my eyes to Amaranth, hoping that from her at least I could plead for some understanding... and discovered that I didn't have to. Where I'd thought to see expectation, there was only concern.
Slowly I looked around and saw much the same thing on the faces of the others. They were all waiting to see if I would say anything else, if I was finished, but nobody was about to demand that I spilled my guts or narrated the whole thing right then and there.
"That's really all I can say," I said. I felt a twinge of falling back into old habits with that, as it felt a lot like the way I'd used to step around the truth without technically lying. That wasn't what I was trying to do... I just wanted to let everyone know that they could let out the breaths they were holding.
Of course, it seemed obvious in retrospect... they'd all come together for my sake in the first place. If the whole situation had been a plotline on a TV show or something that happened to a distant someone else, any one of them might have wanted answers first and foremost because the mystery, the uncertainty, would have been their only stake in the matter. They had to be curious, but that was a small matter compared to the relief they felt at seeing me and hearing that it was over.
"McAvoy didn't think I'd see you again," Amaranth said. "After you left with Kent, he said it was best that I forgot I ever knew you. I told him that even if... well, I said that I was better for knowing you and that I wouldn't forget you no matter what."
She sounded so defiant when she said, and proud of it... I wasn't sure if she was proud of having been defiant or about []
"Why would you say something like that?" I asked. I knew Amaranth wasn't perfect in any except a purely physical sense, but I couldn't imagine how my presence in her life could improve it or her.
"Because it's true, baby," Amaranth said. "Being with you... loving you, owning you... it's the first real thing I've ever had to be concerned about. The first immediate thing, I should say... the things I've read about and thought about are real, but there really is a difference between making an intellectual stand and actually committing to something, or someone."
"Hey," Ian said, "there's nothing wrong with learning about the world through books. I mean, at least you were interested in learning."
"Maybe so," Amaranth said, "But it's not at all the same as being out there in the world." She turned back towards me. "You know, when I first learned what you were, I didn't have to think twice about standing up for you because I'd already thought about it so many times before. Not half-demons specifically, or you in particular, but... well, I was petty sure that I was going to be amazingly tolerant of every race before I met anyone who wasn't a member of a widely-tolerated race."
"And you were right," I said. "You are. Amaranth, I couldn't ask for someone more understanding than you..."
"I'm not, though," she said. "I wasnt... I didn't understand anything. I thought I could just, you know, smile and tell you that it wasn't a big deal... and everyone else would follow my lead. I mean, I think I'm well-liked enough, and I'm smart... and racial prejudices are so silly and backwards, I thought I could show people a more reasonable alternative."
[][][][][][][][]
"I apologize that I was not able to follow you," Dee said. "There was too much scrutiny on your route, and not enough cover away from the building." Her head dipped, and I saw shame in the gesture. "I I lost my nerve... I do not trust myself under a starry sky."
"You tried," I said. Telling her that she wouldn't have been able to make it inside even if she had been able to follow us to our destination probably wouldn't have been the best way to make her feel less inadequate, so instead I just said, "I don't think it mattered, in the end."
"I suppose not," she said. "But your distress is palpable, and I regret that I did not try harder."
"Hey, if you got yourself expelled from the Imperium, wouldn't your goddess be kind of pissed?" Steff said. "You said you're here because it's her will. You have to think about that."
"I do not know the reason that I was meant to be here," Dee said.
"Do you really think it was to help me?" I asked.
"It does not strike me as the most likely course of events, but it seems no more particularly unlikely to me than the idea that she should send me forth on behalf of any other person," Dee said.
[One hour in. Still fairly rough, haven't really smoothed out or cleaned anything up. 900 words is not a bad hour's work, but things slowed down in the second half hour mostly because I'm getting hungry. Going to break and come back to it in the afternoon.]
The seconds stretched out in the wake of those oh-so-inadequate words... of course, even without Embries's will fixed against me, it seemed unlikely that I could have summoned a description of what had happened that would be equal to the reality, or even a serviceable model of it. I braced myself for all of the questions I wouldn't be able to answer, the anger and confusion that would surely follow my silence.
When I'd left the room I had felt somewhat in control, for once in my life. I hadn't had a plan, exactly, but I had made up my own mind and taken action. True, it had been the only course of action available to me, but I had chosen to face it on my own rather than be dragged into it kicking and screaming. Now the threat posed by Iona had been ended and the possibility of further repercussions for me seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, and yet I felt completely vulnerable and completely out of control.
I could feel the eyes on me... Amaranth's, and Ian's, and Steff's, and Two's, and Dee's... but I couldn't meet any of their gazes. Even back when I'd had the half-assed plan to hide my heritage I hadn't really expected to make friends like these. Maybe it seemed sad that having even less than a half a dozen people I felt so close to... who I could trust and who trusted me in turn... seemed to me to represent an embarrassing excess of both love and luck, but it did. Maybe it was sad... maybe I was sad. In the weeks since I'd first come to MU, I had been more blessed than I could have dared to hope for, and now I was proving myself as unworthy of that blessing as any other.
I knew they were looking at me expectantly, waiting with patience I hadn't earned for me to elaborate or explain. I lifted my eyes to Amaranth, hoping that from her at least I could plead for some understanding... and discovered that I didn't have to. Where I'd thought to see expectation, there was only concern.
Slowly I looked around and saw much the same thing on the faces of the others. They were all waiting to see if I would say anything else, if I was finished, but nobody was about to demand that I spilled my guts or narrated the whole thing right then and there.
"That's really all I can say," I said. I felt a twinge of falling back into old habits with that, as it felt a lot like the way I'd used to step around the truth without technically lying. That wasn't what I was trying to do... I just wanted to let everyone know that they could let out the breaths they were holding.
Of course, it seemed obvious in retrospect... they'd all come together for my sake in the first place. If the whole situation had been a plotline on a TV show or something that happened to a distant someone else, any one of them might have wanted answers first and foremost because the mystery, the uncertainty, would have been their only stake in the matter. They had to be curious, but that was a small matter compared to the relief they felt at seeing me and hearing that it was over.
"McAvoy didn't think I'd see you again," Amaranth said. "After you left with Kent, he said it was best that I forgot I ever knew you. I told him that even if... well, I said that I was better for knowing you and that I wouldn't forget you no matter what."
"Why would you say something like that?" I asked. I knew Amaranth wasn't perfect in any except a purely physical sense, but I couldn't imagine how my presence in her life could improve it or her.
"Because it's true, baby," Amaranth said. "Being with you... loving you, owning you... it's the first real thing I've ever had to be concerned about. The first immediate thing, I should say."
[][][][][][][][]
"I apologize that I was not able to follow you," Dee said. "There was too much scrutiny on your route, and not enough cover away from the building." Her head dipped, and I saw shame in the gesture. "I I lost my nerve... I do not trust myself under a starry sky."
"You tried," I said. Telling her that she wouldn't have been able to make it inside even if she had been able to follow us to our destination probably wouldn't have been the best way to make her feel less inadequate, so instead I just said, "I don't think it mattered, in the end."
"I suppose not," she said. "But your distress is palpable, and I regret that I did not try harder."
"Hey, if you got yourself expelled from the Imperium, wouldn't your goddess be kind of pissed?" Steff said. "You said you're here because it's her will. You have to think about that."
"I do not know the reason that I was meant to be here," Dee said.
"Do you really think it was to help me?" I asked.
"It does not strike me as the most likely course of events, but it seems no more particularly unlikely to me than the idea that she should send me forth on behalf of any other person," Dee said.
[Beginning, after half an hour. Pretty rough so far. Not all of this may remain, or be in the same order in the finished chapter. We're getting into emotional resolution territory.]
The seconds stretched out in the wake of those oh-so-inadequate words... of course, even without Embries's will fixed against me, it seemed unlikely that I could have summoned a description of what had happened that would be equal to the reality, or even a serviceable model of it. I braced myself for all of the questions I wouldn't be able to answer, the anger and confusion that would surely follow my silence.
When I'd left the room I had felt somewhat in control, for once in my life. I hadn't had a plan, exactly, but I had made up my own mind and taken action. True, it had been the only course of action available to me, but I had chosen to face it on my own rather than be dragged into it kicking and screaming. Now the threat posed by Iona had been ended and the possibility of further repercussions for me seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, and yet I felt completely vulnerable and completely out of control.
I could feel the eyes on me... Amaranth's, and Ian's, and Steff's, and Two's, and Dee's... but I couldn't meet any of their gazes. Even back when I'd had the half-assed plan to hide my heritage I hadn't really expected to make friends like these. Maybe it seemed sad that having even less than a half a dozen people I felt so close to... who I could trust and who trusted me in turn... seemed to me to represent an embarrassing excess of both love and luck, but it did. Maybe it was sad... maybe I was sad. In the weeks since I'd first come to MU, I had been more blessed than I could have dared to hope for, and now I was proving myself as unworthy of that blessing as any other.
I knew they were looking at me expectantly, waiting with patience I hadn't earned for me to elaborate or explain. I lifted my eyes to Amaranth, hoping that from her at least I could plead for some understanding... and discovered that I didn't have to. Where I'd thought to see expectation, there was only concern.
Of course, it seemed obvious in retrospect... they'd all come together for my sake in the first place. If the whole situation had been a plotline on a TV show or something that happened to a distant someone else, any one of them might have wanted answers first and foremost because the mystery, the uncertainty, would have been their only stake in the matter.
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"McAvoy didn't think I'd see you again," Amaranth said. "After you left with Kent, he said it was best that I forgot I ever knew you. I told him that even if... well, I said that I was better for knowing you and that I wouldn't forget you no matter what."
"Why would you say something like that?" I asked. I knew Amaranth wasn't perfect in any except a purely physical sense, but I couldn't imagine how my presence in her life could improve it or her.
"Because it's true, baby," Amaranth said. "Being with you... loving you, owning you... it's the first real thing I've ever had to be concerned about. The first immediate thing, I should say."
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"I apologize that I was not able to follow you," Dee said. "There was too much scrutiny on your route, and not enough cover away from the building." Her head dipped, and I saw shame in the gesture. "I I lost my nerve... I do not trust myself under a starry sky."