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Author Topic: Diagnosis [Neph]  (Read 1020 times)

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Offline GoblinFae

Diagnosis [Neph]
« on: March 14, 2018, 10:37:00 pm »
His eyes darted up from behind his protective visor to glance at the clock for the thousandth time in the last five minutes alone. Dashiell was driving himself stir crazy with the waiting. He had already done all the closing duties expected of him twice over until the place was spotless and still it was not time to call it a day and go home. Any other day he would have been fine with the waiting or would have stayed longer to exchange pleasantries with Ryul but today was different.

Instead he would deviate from the routine he had fallen into for the past three weeks of getting up, working at Sweet Dreams, then going home and staying there until morning to start again. Today he had a mission he had set to himself and a time limit to do it in. If only the bloody clock on the wall would strike quitting time and he could pop off to do it before he lost his nerve. Dashiell scowled at the clock once more, his marred features tightening to see so little time had passed still.

He huffed, putting away the mop in his hand before pressing a steady hand to the front of his pocket and feeling as well as hearing the reassuring crinkle of paper there. It had taken him days and countless attempts to get it all down on that piece of paper. He would be damned if he lost it now.

For a moment Dashiell considered dragging it out of his pocket to read it over one last time before he left but then thought better of it. The words were all but memorized now anyway. He would only lose his nerve if he thought too much on it. "Novilunio"- Nicodemo was wrong. Dashiell Feldspar was and continued to be many things in life but a coward was not going to be one of them. He was going to make good of his word. Hopefully the other man would too.

Yet another look to the clock and the large man shrugged. "Close enough," he muttered before continuing louder, "I'm off, Ryul! See you tomorrow!" He barely waited for a response before jogging out the door and down a different corridor than he usually ventured. In his haste he nearly forgot the box of pastries he had bought to go along with the folded paper in his pocket.

The path he was to take appeared in his mind's eye and he followed it quietly like a bloodhound on a scent. His mind was clear of all obstacles as he fell into step and readied himself for the "battle" ahead. All trace of jitters were gone in those moments right up until he stood before a door that was not his own. His hand raised of its own accord and metal knuckles rapped politely against the entrance.

While he waited he at last fished that dreaded piece of paper from his jeans and tucked the small white cardboard box under his arm. Dashiell did his best to keep his impatience out of his stance as well as his nerves. He was a soldier whether he was serving actively or not. He damn well was going to honor what that meant even if had failed to do so in the past.

It felt like an eternity and then some for the door to open but when it did, Dashiell immediately straightened with shoulders back and head held high. "Nicodemo del-Nestore I presume?" he asked formally even as he saw a pair of familiar gold eyes wreathed in black staring him down. Without a doubt, Dashiell had the right place. Sweet, kind Ryul had not failed to deliver yet again. The baker had provided Dashiell with a name an address as well as advice for what he was about to do. Not it was the werewolf's job not to disappoint.

His fingers clasped the paper in his hand tighter before he reflexively relaxed his grip for fear of crumpling the page. While stiff in posture, there was genuine remorse in Dashiell's heart. He just didn't know what to expect by being here. Part of him had been sure the door would slam closed on him. He was still expecting it to happen if he were to be honest. But, he was there to try and he damn well was not going to back down and turn tail now. It was the right thing to do after a long list wrong things he had done. It was about time he started to repair the damage he had intentionally wrought upon others, starting with Reese's former lover.

"I believe you said you would listen if I tried to apologize? I wish to make good on that...if you'll let me," he added before swallowing thickly.

Offline nephero

Re: Diagnosis [Neph]
« Reply #1 on: March 19, 2018, 03:30:33 am »
   When Nico answered the door, the last thing they ever expected to see was Dashiell Feldspar, of all people, standing there on their doorstep. Quietly, Nico remembered the days when welcome mats were a “thing”, and also quietly considered pulling the nonexistent mat out from under him.

   But something in how Dash stood gave them pause, though, and so Nico could only stand there, glancing down at the box in the man’s arms and the white paper in his grip. A squint, and then Nico was staring Dash in the face, all burn scars and angry skin and even angrier stance.

   But not at them. This wasn’t the body language of a man come back for another fight. And so Nico frowned, their lips turned down in a harsh curve as they considered just what was being said.

   Apologize?

   Dashiell was here to apologize?

   Distantly, Nico remembered the challenge they had issued, and made a soft scoff of surprise as it all caught up with them. Right. Right. Well, color them some shade of surprise. They never had actually expected Dash to do anything of the sort. Just grumble and huff and make it all out to be some kind of witch hunt as was the usual.

   But no. There he was.

   Nico considered the request, and opened their mouth before shutting it again. While they would listen to an attempt at being actually sorry, the day had been…

   A bad one. Aches and pains every step, such to the point where Nico hadn’t been able to make it beyond their front door all day. Even their clothes reflected this: thin, soft t shirt and even softer sweatpants, and nothing else because the pressure against their skin was just too much to bear.

   The distance from the couch to the front door had been agonizing. The idea of standing there while Dashiell gritted out some manner of amends was… equally agonizing. Just a little less agonizing, it turned out, than inviting Dashiell into their home to make this more comfortable.

   So that’s what Nico did.

   “Come in.” They said, clipped and sparing no manner of warmth in either of those two very short words. “And make some tea. And then you can apologize all you like.”

Offline GoblinFae

Re: Diagnosis [Neph]
« Reply #2 on: March 19, 2018, 07:04:29 pm »
Dashiell's lone brow rose almost entirely into his hairline in surprise at the cold orders put to him. He had expected angry words and slamming doors but not for a second an invitation to come in. Nicodemo's tone brooked no argument though and while he may have hesitated for a single heartbeat, Dash was quick to bow into the entrance.

He said nothing as the other man slowly shuffled into the kitchen, leaning heavily on his cane and quite obviously in a great deal of pain. Instead Dashiell kept his head facing forward and allowed the man to take all the time he needed to drag himself into the kitchen and get seated. The last thing Dash wanted to do was offer insult or assistance to wound the man's pride or reign his ire down upon himself. He was positively certain that the crippled figure before him would would not welcome the help of a man who had nearly beaten the very life out of him.

Once he was settled though, Dashiell placed the box that had been clutched in his hand on the table before Nico. "These are for you. I promise I didn't poison them or spit in them," he commented in a weak attempt at humor though he didn't bring his gaze up from the box to see the icy stare he was sure those golden eyes would be offering him. "They're from SugarMouse's bakery."

The letter of apology was unintentionally left atop the box as the former Jockey stepped back to take in the room. It was a sight better than his own kitchen. Reese had been the one to demand that he keep the place just so and with their death he had just allowed things to pile up more and more. Here at least those piles were organized more or less.

He sighed, biting the tip of his tongue between his back molars before releasing it and finally looking at Nico. Defensively his arms crossed over his broad chest as his hip leaned back against one of the counters. "I don't know how to make tea," Dashiell admitted quietly. "Coffee is easy, pop in a capsule and press a button." His lips were pursed tightly as he waited for the ridicule that was sure to follow. Reese hadn't called him Dumbshit Dashpar for nothing after all. "Sorry to be an even further disappointment. Re-" his breath hitched as he realized whose name he was about to utter before he switched gears, "Ryul would be the second to declare that I'm a kitchen hazard." He didn't need to be bringing Reese into this too, at least not befor he apologized for that too.

Offline nephero

Re: Diagnosis [Neph]
« Reply #3 on: March 23, 2018, 08:24:56 pm »
   Honestly, Nico had expected some kind of comment. Sarcasm, jibes, some manner of underhanded insult, an implication about Nico’s viability as a soldier, something. But Dash just… walked in. Without being prompted twice.

   First an apology and now this. Would wonders never cease.

   Settled in one of two kitchen table chairs, Nico watched Dash move with narrowed eyes but an otherwise neutral expression. Or, they assumed it was neutral. Years of open detest didn’t quite melt away so easily, and honestly, Nico wasn’t trying that hard.

   They watched as the box was set down, and reached out to flick open the lid. Huh. A food offering and an apology.

   And not poisoned! This truly was the day for miracles. As a show of good faith, Nico pulled a cheese danish from the box and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully and not blinking once as they stared up at where Dash stood. Which seemed to do the trick, because the man before them’s jaw moved, and the second he crossed his arms Nico was assured that this was just as uncomfortable for Dash as it was for them.

   Good. Advantage achieved.

   And then Dashiell Feldspar gave Nicodemo del-Nestore the greatest gift of all:

   “I don’t know how to make tea.”

   Nico genuinely wished they had had a tape recorder for that. But, you win some, you lose some, and right then Nico had bigger fish to fry than bemoaning their lack of recording devices. Nico’s mouth opened for a moment, ready to make some kind of barb about how a capsule was easier than a teabag and then—

   And then Dashiell went even further. Apologized for being a disappointment, which was a little harsh over something like tea, and then Nico was sure that little stutter was not at all an inability to say Ryul’s name. Not that they had any proof, and not that they couldn’t say they weren’t a little… sensitive about Reese at that present moment. The final realization Nico had concerning who they had genuinely considered the love of their life had been… less than positive, and right then even the faintest reminder of them was enough to set their teeth on edge.

   Like right then. Nico’s jaw set, and they set the danish down, rapping their fingers against the table surface in agitation.

   Another pause, and Nico was able to trust themselves enough to speak without their voice wavering in molten fury.

   “There’s a kettle on the stove. Fill it up with water and set it on high. And make sure the kettle lid is fully on, it’s old and doesn’t like to sit without some persuasion. Go.”

Offline GoblinFae

Re: Diagnosis [Neph]
« Reply #4 on: March 23, 2018, 10:19:22 pm »
He tried not to wince as he noticed the forgotten apology letter slide off the top of the box and across the table some with the sudden flipping of the lid. The way the other man selected his pastry and nibbled at it reminded Dashiell of his mother's "parties" with all her "high society" friends. The only thing keeping him from rolling his eyes in disgust was the unblinking stare tat felt like an icy blade clawing its way into his soul.

Things did not stop there though. He had been tensed and ready for ridicule and laughter or even scathing condemnation. Instead he received barked orders in that same commanding tone that set just about every soldier that heard it into motion without question. Even Dashiell wasn't completely immune as he straightened and raised his chin slightly to attention. Again his brow rose in surprise and his mouth opened before he had a chance to consider the possibility of holding back words.

"Woof woof to you too, Captain," he replied with a slight smirk and shake of his head at the barked orders before pushing himself off the counter and into action. Nicodemo had treated him with a decent amount of respect, the least he could do would be to obey his request. The kettle was scooped up in hand and carried over to the sink with ease. The lid popped off readily and he was filling it up to the brim when the task of replacing the lid posed the first obstacle in a relatively easy "mission."

Three times he tried to push it back into place and each time it would just refuse to hol. One side or the other would slide back up or on the last time just when he was sure it was in place the damn thing completely shot up,much to his great frustration. The only thing stopping him from tossing the piece of apparently useless equipment was the fact that it did not belong to him. Unlike Reese before him, throwing everything and anything within arm's reach was not in his repertoire of douche moves.

"Just stay in the fucking ole," he growled deeply under his breath. One final jab and jam seemed to do it though. Several moments passed as Dashiell stood stock still and glaring at the offending metal circle but nothing changed. It finally had decided to cooperate. The werewolf snatched up the kettle a bit more roughly that was necessary, unfortunately splashing water out of the spout now that it was overly full and onto himself in the process. A deep sigh rumbled int he back of his throat though he politely held his tongue from bitching about not only the ridiculousness of the task but also his own stupidity. He was sure he would be hearing of it all before the evening was through.

With a clank the kettle was deposited on the hob. Dashiell stepped back a moment to look at the dials, glancing first at the burners and then back again at the knobs as he tried to figure out which one went to which. It was not as simple as his own stove where each knob was numbered alongside it's designated ring of "fire." A flick of his wrist and he turned on a burner before stepping away to face Nico again. Unbeknownst to him, he had turned on the larger burner behind his intended one instead of the small one at the front.

"So we just going to exist here in sullen silence until your tea is ready or do I get to attempt to apologize some time in this you know century? Or actually for that matter do you like ever blink? Because damn your eyes must be dry as fuck. Like what gives man?" Dashiell blurted out, his hands gesturing in disbelief before crossing over his chest again.

He hated feeling idle and useless yet, he felt both those things in this man's presence. there was just something about the way he looked at you that set Dashiell so firmly on edge. He knew he was at fault for attacking Nicodemo. Hell, he had genuinely come to apologize in earnest. But, here in this man's home he felt so utterly and completely off-kilter and out of place. What did one say to the guy you beat the crap out of while making tea for him in his kitchen?

'Oh did you see the new birds of paradise were in bloom? Pretty cool stuff, huh?'

Like damn.

If Dashiell had anything though, it was snark in spades. So despite all his good intentions, he still managed to fall back on his acerbic sense of humor. At least one person could be amused out of the two of them. Nico certainly looked like the act of laughing would break him in two. Oh well you win some, you lose some. The sooner he could get through this, the sooner he could crawl home and lick his expected wounds. He still doubted he would exit unscathed from this whole new adventure.

Offline nephero

Re: Diagnosis [Neph]
« Reply #5 on: March 23, 2018, 11:17:46 pm »
   “Sullen silence?” Nico said, tone light and airy, taking another bite of the danish and acting like chewing wasn’t that much of an effort at that point in time. But, of course, their pulse was still flared from bad memories, so Nico was only really able to managed two more bites before they had to set the danish back down again.

   “Who’s sullen? Are you feeling sullen, Mr Feldspar?” Nico leaned back in their chair, fingers tapping out a new and horribly random pattern on the table once more. “You can put two teabags into one of the mugs, now. Top left cabinet, bottom shelf. Green tin. Mugs above that. And… one for yourself, of course.”

   Nico waited for their orders to be followed, rather enjoying keeping Dash on his toes and moving around the kitchen. Which he was woefully not familiar with in even the slightest capacity. Which made Nico terribly concerned with exactly how the man’s own kitchen functioned. What a horrifying thought that was.

   Besides, the more Nico kept Dash at the task of getting tea read, the less Nico themself would have to do when Dash finished getting through his no doubt as-short-as-possible apology and made a run for the front door. Nico had the free labor, might as well make good use of it.

   “I said the green tin, Feldspar. Which I can see from here with my terribly dry eyes. But I can see how you’d make that mistake. Colors. Genders. Lots of confusion to be had there.” Nico hummed, before gesturing at the unused chair across the table from them.

   “Have a seat, the water needs to boil first. Which is also how you make coffee, in case you ever have to do something not involving a capsule, by the way. Life skills.”

   Woof. Okay del-Nestore, the man was trying to apologize, here. Perhaps insulting him wasn’t the exact best way to go. Which led to the question of whether or not Nico wanted this to be a pleasant experience. Sure, the whole… Reese… thing… hadn’t exactly been Feldspar’s fault. He’d been played just the same as Nico themself. But on the same token, he did try to beat the ever loving shit out of Nicodemo in a public cafe setting. Over a necklace.

   A necklace that, last Nico checked, had probably been kicked somewhere under the couch. And they had simply been too in pain to try and retrieve. Cough, cough.

   Right. Okay. Being ‘nice’ in three, two, one…

   “Please. It’ll give you some time to eat if you want. Or we can get right to the apology. Whatever you prefer.” They gestured at the box of pastries, certainly more than Nico would ever really to eat by themselves before they turned stale. Waste not, want not. Or whatever.

   “And you will address me in the neutral from this moment forward. I won’t say it twice.”

Offline GoblinFae

Re: Diagnosis [Neph]
« Reply #6 on: March 24, 2018, 12:29:13 am »
Dashiell held his tongue. No, he did not feel sullen thank you very much. He felt dour, surly, cantankerous, irritable and alright yes he felt sullen. He felt like a puppy with his tail caught between his legs as his owner gave him the death glare of doom for tearing up a couch cushion and peeing on the newspaper.

Perhaps it was a blessing then that Nico deemed it fitting to order him about the kitchen some more. His teeth ground together as a soft growl rumbled deep in his chest. He knew what color green was and he was going to get it if the man would just wait one fucking second already! Dashiell had heard him the first time for fuck's sake! You needed to move one to reach the other after all!

Genders? What the hell was that all about? Nicodemo wasn't a woman, was he? She?

Dash glanced back over his shoulder to look at him before facing forward again quickly. Those damn eyes were still trained on him. He scooped out a pair of teabags and dumped them unceremoniously into a cup, bags, strings, tags and all. Only then did he hesitate before dumping a single bag into a second cup for himself. His mother had in theory taught him better than to be rude about accepting hospitality from a good host. It was the least he could do despite never having really enjoyed tea. Bitter leaf water was just not his thing.

"Yes because I plan to be anywhere where technology is inaccessible but miraculously coffee beans are accessible," he bit back with a roll of his eyes. The mugs were left near the stove though not close enough to set anything on fire or break it or melt it. He had learned that particular lesson several years ago with one of mother's favorite paper flower arrangements. Not of course that it didn't deserve on principle for being so gaudy.

Tasks completed, he stiffly took a seat opposite Nicodemo. His back was straight against the wooden back and his feet tucked under it.. "They're for you," he replied, eyeing the offered box indecisively. On the one hand Ryul did make such lovely things. On the other, Dashiell wasn't sure that having a mouth full of crumbs would help him later when he wanted to say what he needed to say. It was hard to take someone seriously with a dollop of cherry preserves stuck at the corner of their mouth and dribbling down their chin.

Finally, the comment regarding gender made sense now. "Oh, so you're a they," he commented, thinking back to Reese. Back when they first met it had taken months upon months before he could and would properly address them. One of the many things they had drilled into his head over the years. It figured that they would have been interested in someone like them, someone who shared their outlook on life, their pronouns and sensibilities, their need and desire to boss people around.

Dashiell snorted softly and shook his head at such thoughts. He really had been the odd man out from the start. Dumbshit Dashspar strikes again, as Reese would always say. His knee bounced slightly anxiously as his own hand drummed out a nervous pattern upon it.

"Right. Got it." Dashiell slid the abandoned paper closer to himself and looked at sternly. Was he really going to sit here like a contrite child and read this shit word for word? Ryul would have wanted him to. He imagined that pale face with his bright smile looking up to him gently. Nope, that wasn't working. His metal hand crushed the apology firmly before shoving it into his jacket pocket.

"Ah fuck it," he declared. "We're going off script." The werewolf looked up and met those golden eyes head on. He wanted this man-this person to know he meant every word he was about to say.

"I really have come to apologize and not because you believed I wouldn't and not because you think me a coward. Let's be clear about that. I came because I honestly regret what I did to you. Both times.

"I...," he sighed as his eyes looked to the side and he gathered his thoughts before continuing, "have been lost for a long time. I've hit rock bottom but before that I spent a long time escalating things beyond where I ever normally would because the only time I ever felt anything was when someone else was suffering more than me. It never was really a big deal before. It was never really something you could pin down on me so it got brushed aside or ignored or whatever.

"When I saw you- when I saw the necklace, I saw red. Everything just boiled over and I am many things, like an asshole but, that was low even for me. I attacked you without cause or provocation. I hurt you and I'm sorry for that. Not because I got in trouble but, because I genuinely regret causing harm to someone who was completely innocent in everything. I'm sorry for hurting you and I'm sorry for attacking you and I'm sorry for accusing you of being a liar and a thief and probably whatever else fuck all I said because a lot of it has become a bloody blur.

"Point is I grossly lost control and I almost killed you. I wanted to kill you." His head dropped as he squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his hands into tight fists in his lap. He really was disgusted with himself. "I don't now, for what it's worth. That's not the kind of man I am, not the kind of man I was at least. Definitely not the man I want to be though.

"I used to be an honorable man. I took pride in that. I swear too that I had no idea you and Reese...I didn't pursue them but even if I had, I never would have if I had known they were with someone. It makes me sick knowing I caused that, however unintentionally. So I'm sorry for that too. I wronged you twice before I even knew your name."

Dashiell shook his head and scoffed at himself. "So go ahead and you know yell at me or scream at me or beat the crap out of me and kick me out because I know apologies don't fix anything, and you're probably still really pissed off with me. Hell I would be. But, whether you believe it or not. I mean it. I'm sorry, Mx. del-Nestore." He sucked his front teeth and drummed his fingers on his knees again. "Yep, that would be it."

Offline nephero

Re: Diagnosis [Neph]
« Reply #7 on: March 24, 2018, 02:55:05 am »
   For a bright, violent moment, Nicodemo considered getting right in Dashiell’s face and flaying the skin from his skull with their words and their words alone. ‘Oh, so you’re a they,’ as if Dash hadn’t been married to a ‘they’, as if Dash should have known better— and did he just scoff? Did he just scoff at them and oh— oh, no he did not just shake his filthy, pathetic head—

   Nico’s nostril’s flared, their brewing tirade stopped, for the moment, by Dashiell crushing up his written statement and instead, deciding to ‘wing it’.

   Hopefully not into a crash and burn because the way Nico was clenching their fists any further mis-speaking on Feldspar’s part, their first fight would not be their last. But the more Dash spoke, the more Nico could feel their fury ebbing away again. Like a spark from a match that quickly turned to naught but lingering smoke and burnt fingers.

   Because how familiar did that sound? ‘I used to be an honorable man.’ Who had Nicodemo been before all of this? Before being dropped out of the blue like a sock with too many holes in it? Before being caught up in their lover’s new relationship? Before being made to watch as everything they had ever wanted was flaunted right in front of them? Before Nico started to feel like maybe they really weren’t good enough to have had any of that?

   Nicodemo didn’t even remember. They couldn’t remember exactly where they started or ended and how much of what they were now was just another ghost left behind. Another rusted bar in the cage.

   How many did that make for Feldspar? And how many bars still stood?

   Nicodemo paused, thought for a long moment, and chewed at their lip. They wanted to yell. If they were honest, they wanted to do a lot more than that. Choking Dashiell out like he’d tried at the cafe, to start. But, then again…

   How much of that was the ghosts talking?

   “I hate you. I still hate you. I… want to hate you. But that’s… I know that’s just the… person I’ve become. Not who I used to be. I used to be someone with a sense of pride. Integrity. Good judgment. A spine. And instead I’m… this.”

   They sighed, and looked to the side, eyeing their wallpaper and considering that maybe it was time to change that, too. The birds had been… a terrible choice.

   “I thought you had stolen them from me. I thought that… they had spoken of me. Thought better of me, maybe, or thought of me at all. Talked about me like I… talked about them, because I loved them and I loved talking about all the things we would do together. And I thought Reese felt the same, and that you had romanced them anyway.

   “But you didn’t. You weren’t that kind of man. You just… loved Reese, too, and believed the same, old bullshit I did. You’re not… who you were made out to be. But I treated you like you were, and all when you were hurting just the same as I had been. And for that, I’m—”

   Nico paused with a frown, something nagging at the back of their mind and slowly bubbling up a lot like the sound they knew they should be hearing but didn’t.

   “Did you put the stove on? It should have boiled by now.”

Offline GoblinFae

Re: Diagnosis [Neph]
« Reply #8 on: March 24, 2018, 04:14:48 pm »
They hated him. Well that was too be expected. Hell it was actually a lot nicer said than Dashiell had expected and so he shrugged slightly at the response. He wasn't looking for a best friend out of this, just some form of reconciliation for his grievous crimes.

What he was getting though was so much more. He listened without judgement as the words spilled forth, as truths he had suspected or never even guessed at came forward. Pieces of the puzzle were snapping together with painful clarity. There was more to Reese than he had ever known. His mate, his lover, his everything had been a lie to not one but two people.

It even sounded like an apology was about to be uttered when the conversation was derailed. Dashiell blinked slowly in surprise before his head swiveled to squint at the stove. The knob was definitely turned on in comparison to the other ones.

"Well duh I put it on," he replied, dragging himself back to his feet. "I'm not that stupid. See!" The Solo pilot placed his hand beside the kettle to feel the warmth before staring at it in surprise. He moved his hand closer until he tapped the metal and yet he felt nothing. Dashiell placed his full palm upon it only to find it completely cold. His eyes nearly bugged out behind his visor before he waved his fleshy arm over the stove only to find the wrong burner was radiating heat. With his tongue caught between his teeth he picked up the kettle and move it onto the much too large but hot burner.

His lips were pursed into a a very faint line when he finally turned around again. "Not to interrupt you further but, if this is you without a spine I'd hate to know you when you had one. You're pretty damn fierce as it is. Certainly gave me a run for my money. You laid in a few good ones," he acknowledged with a small, crooked smile. It faded quickly though. Now really wasn't the time to be cracking jokes like they were old friends. He still had no idea how far or close he was to getting another wrap from that bloody cane.

"Honestly though, not to speak ill of the dead, but Reese really wasn't one to talk about anything personal with me. Our relationship wasn't built on a lot of...communication. It lacked a lot of things if we're being truthful. The whole first year was us acting like teenagers sneaking about. I understand why now though. Doesn't help anything. Doesn't change anything. Reese didn't want you in then they made damn sure you were kept out. They were never one to suffer any man, person," he added with an indulgent nod to Nico, "to cage them and clip their wings. I didn't know about you. I didn't know about their family. I didn't know where they ran off to when we argued. I was a pretty shitty husband all things considered."

He shook his head sharply, letting his gaze fall to the floor as he took a deep breath in. His breath nearly hitched in his throat though as his brain finally registered what was so comforting about what he was smelling. Reese always smelled of fire and earth, of sage and rosewood. But, this was different. This was something that he had searched their whole house twice over just to find and was not something Reese had ever owned. This was water and salt. It was crisp and clean like you would imagine the warm breeze on some little beach to be. Not of course that Dash knew what either of those things were like. He shook his head again at the absurdity of it all. Of course Reese had smelled like this. This was "home."

His heart squeezed painfully at that realization. The scent that had been comfort and love and warmth was just the residual of another lover still clinging to Reese's skin.

What a fucking nightmare.

"I'm sure this is the last thing you want to hear from me but you had to have meant something to them if they kept coming around even after I told Reese to choose between us. I know they didn't stop seeing you. It's your scent. Reese always smelled of it. I thought it was theirs but, I realize now it was you. It's always been you."

Offline nephero

Re: Diagnosis [Neph]
« Reply #9 on: March 27, 2018, 02:16:06 pm »
   It was like watching a puppy figure out that their favorite treat was under a bucket. Nico watched, somewhere between amazed and amused, as Feldspar tapped at the tea kettle and slowly figured out that the kettle was not, in fact, boiling anything at all. The following wave of his hand over the stove, and Nico figured out just what had happened.

   They very firmly pursed their lips together in a fine, tight line as Dashiell moved the kettle from one burner to the other. And then rubbed at their mouth with their hand for good measure, leaning slightly on the kitchen table with their elbow as they watched Dashiell ‘work’.

   Luckily, they didn’t have to stifle their reaction for long, eyes coming back to focus on Feldspar’s face as they tried to figure out if his words about having a spine were meant to be a jab or were genuine. On the one hand, it sounded like the latter. But on the other hand, this was Dashiell Feldspar, and Nico had yet to really observe him being anything but jabby.

   Not that they really had the opportunity to dwell on such things. Not when Feldspar continued on with his thoughts, and the more he spoke the more Nico’s brow furrowed, the rising tension in their shoulders settling deep in already-aching muscles to where it felt like a screwdriver was being jammed right in between their shoulder blades. Nico rolled their shoulders, shifted in their seat, and when that did nothing to alleviate the pain they simply pushed through it instead.

   “I don’t give a shit what I meant to them.” They said, finally. It was something they’d been ruminating over for a long time now. And while they’d come to that conclusion, it still felt… overwhelmingly vindicating to be able to get it out and into the open air. It didn’t even matter if it was the truth or not— but the sheer act of saying it was so very, very freeing. “Or about speaking ill of the dead.

   “Because even after they left me, they never let me leave. They couldn’t have their wings clipped, but they sure had no problem clipping mine. You want to know how I spent that year after they left? During this whole, ‘it’s always been you they kept coming to see’ bullshit?”

   Nico took a steadying breath, already aware of how badly their voice was starting to shake, fists clenched so tight their knuckles were bone-white and sharp pinpricks shot through their fingers.

   “I spent it being their shoulder to cry on. I spent it being their support. I spent it giving every spare moment I had to them, because that’s what they wanted. Nothing happened between us after you had them choose, Dashiell. But they sure as shit weren’t going to let me move on. And I, the spineless fuck that I’d become, just sat back and let them have their way. Because shit, even if they didn’t want to be with me, at least they still wanted to be near me. And I felt grateful to them for it.”

   There was no holding back the tide now. They were shaking with every word, harsh trembles cutting through their bones and rattling them even as they sat stock-still in the kitchen chair. Now, more than ever, all Nicodemo wanted to do was stand up and start tearing that fucking wallpaper off the fucking walls and shove every last shred of it down the garbage disposal.

   “Grateful! Thankful that they could be bothered to give me scraps! So no, Dashiell. It’s never been me. And it’s never been you. It’s only ever been Reese, and while you were a real piece of garbage? I don’t think the title of ‘shitty spouse’ is yours, either.”

Offline GoblinFae

Re: Diagnosis [Neph]
« Reply #10 on: March 27, 2018, 10:27:26 pm »
Their words should not have hurt. Yet their utterance had him unconsciously pressing a hand over his heart. Dashiell couldn't understand it. It was not as if he cared at all for Nicodemo either way. But, perhaps it was in knowing that Reese had never given up on them, had refused to stop loving them even as Dash forced them further and further into a crippling cage and now that lover simply didn't care at all.

He felt for Reese, long since dead and scattered among the stars.

He felt for Nicodemo, abandoned but never freed of ethereal shackles.

He felt for himself, forever haunted by a love that seemed to be built solely on lies.

Dashiell could do nothing but stand and listen. He would be lying to say that he was unmoved. He felt their pain as clearly as he felt his own. It was one and the same. They had both loved Reese and now both suffered for it. They suffered even more for knowing that the person they had both loved was not the person they pretended to be. Or maybe Reese had been exactly what they meant to be. Their lovers were just the fools too stupid to realize what hell they were being dragged through.

He dragged his visor from his eyes, the damaged eye with its scarred eyelid already beginning to water under the bright lights and blurred images. It took a great deal of concentration not to crush the necessary bit of glass and plastic in his metal grip while his other hand scrubbed vigorously at his eyes. Whatever wetness he found there he mentally blamed on the lights as he tried to wipe away his exhaustion, his heartache, hell even his guilt.

There was no brushing that aside though. Swallowing didn't dislodge the frog in his throat either. With a heavy sigh that sounded oppressively loud to his ears, he replaced his visor and shook his head. They were wrong. Dashiell was a terrible husband.  Maybe not the worst in the world, but still pretty up there on the list of dicks best left alone to rot.

"I'm sorry for that too," he finally breathed.

It felt like his chest was trying to collapse in on him with each inhalation.

"I'm sorry for my part in that however big or small. I'm sorry for making them want to seek refuge with you and not being enough for them. I'm sorry for hating you all this time and believing myself to be right when I could not have been more wrong."

He opened his mouth to say more when the crescendoing whistle of the kettle made him flinch and jump. He had completely forgotten about it behind him. Dashiell did the best to clear his throat and draw attention away from his unease as he made himself busy. The water was poured quickly and nearly to the brim. The amounts that splashed out were quickly wiped up with the edge of his sleeve before the werewolf very carefully brought the cups over and plopped Nico's in front of them.

"Your tea." His own cup was still gripped tightly in his hand, the heat of the mug burning his palm and yet he still hesitated. Should he stay? Should he even sit down? Or should he leave? He had apologized but even more had been said than that. Nico had poured out more to him than perhaps that had meant to but of all the people in the world, Dashiell was probably the best one to understand. Living with Reese was never easy, or at least it hadn't been for him. He could only imagine what it was like for Nicodemo.

"I...hope it's alright," he finally said with a weak shrug of his shoulders. His usual fire was long since smothered. All he had inside now was raw emptiness brought on by knowing a cold, naked truth. Reese was a despicable piece of shit and for all their faults, Dashiell still had loved them.

Offline nephero

Re: Diagnosis [Neph]
« Reply #11 on: April 22, 2018, 02:36:09 am »
   There was something about watching another person make themselves vulnerable that pulled at your heartstrings. It would have been easy to kick Feldspar while he was down— painfully easy, even. It would have taken nothing in the way of effort for Nico to take all their bundled hate and anger and hurt and fling it right into the man’s face, but…

   Some part of them was proud that they couldn’t. Watching the Solo move, watching him wipe at his eyes and sigh and look so terribly beaten down, Nico couldn’t bear the thought of doing anything more. They were hard, they were harsh, they were unforgiving, but they weren’t so cruel. Not yet, anyway. Not even for all the games Reese had played with their heart, they weren’t yet cruel.

   It was funny. Nico almost wanted to thank Dashiell for that. But the Solo wasn’t done, and for the second time that evening Nico felt something raw and odd in their chest for hearing those words, listening to Dashiell’s apology and not even sure how to process ninety percent of it. Just how were they supposed to respond to that?

   ‘It’s not your fault you made my life a living hell by proxy? It’s not your fault they felt the need to come over and bitch about your latest stupid ass behavior? It’s not your fault for thinking I was the other man?’

   Well. That last part, maybe. Nico opened their mouth, perhaps to say just that, or perhaps to say something else entirely. They’d already surprised themselves quite a bit today, what was a little bit more? But then the tea kettle shrieked, and then Dashiell made a mess of their counters by overfilling the mug, and then settled the whole thing in front of Nico without accidentally upending it all in their lap. Small miracles, they supposed.

   Nico didn’t even lift it to taste it. It would still be entirely too hot, yet, and the bags still needed to steep. Instead, they looked from the mug and the gently floating steam up at Dashiell, at the mutual exhaustion and emptiness they saw even through his visor. It was like being without sleep every minute of every day for years on end, and it caught up with them in that singular moment of seeing a man so terribly shaken out of his element by someone who wasn’t even still alive to ask why.

   Neither of them would ever get that kind of closure, Nico supposed. All they really had left was the knowledge that they were still here. It had happened and whatever came next would… just be. And at the very least, it would be a choice for themselves, that they made, rather than being made for them however discreetly.

   “Have a seat. It’ll take about three or so minutes before it’s ready to drink. No sense standing up the whole time.”

   They paused, before looking up and into Dashiell’s eyes, meeting his mismatched ones even through the visor. Nico narrowed their eyes, though the act itself wasn’t malicious, simply calculating as the lingering hesitation finally plucked on their last nerve.

   “Don't just hover there. I said sit.”

Offline GoblinFae

Re: Diagnosis [Neph]
« Reply #12 on: April 23, 2018, 12:43:57 am »
Dashiell hated the way that Nicodemo looked at him. He hated the way those unholy eyes seemed to bore right through him and see into the deepest parts of him that had long since remained in cold shadow. It made his breath catch in his chest once he realized that the first time in what felt like forever, someone was staring unflinchingly eye to eye with him. Nico was not shying away, they were not backing down. Hell their expression was not even one of disgust, fear, or even pity. So many especially in the beginning days had looked at him in such a manner.

But, not Nicodemo, they looked at Dash in a way that the scarred man could only describe as indifferent calculation. It was as if they were sizing him up the same way a commander looked over his army of soldiers. He supposed he should be grateful for it but after so long it just felt unnerving. Not for the first time he felt shame over his appearance. He had never been an incredibly vain man but he had taken pride in having had good genetics. Now he was just damaged goods and with all of the emotional revelations of the day he felt it all even more keenly than usual.

He was snapped from his thoughts at the barked orders that had him once again moving without thought. Dashiell smirked softly though and shook his head. "A soldier through and through. You really like barking orders at people and making them jump, don't you? Can't even wait for their brains to process it all before you're repeating yourself. Bet you get mad at that too," he stated with a smirk, "most officers I've found seem to despite repetition despite how much they all seem to waste their breath on other pompous pursuits. Although you don't seem like the type for trivial and excessive posturing truth be told."

A soft chuckle escaped him as he reached over and plucked a blueberry muffin from the box for himself. Nico had offered him earlier even if he had declined. Dash figured the worst they could do was slap it out of his hands if they really didn't want him to have it. The wrapper was peeled away slowly before he broke off a small piece and ate it. Unintentionally a small smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. Ryul really was an amazingly baker.

"Anyway," Dashiell sighed as he swallowed, "while I don't expect anything of you after my apology, least of all your acceptance of it, I... I don't know if they made you aware but I have been put on leave for my actions towards you and others as well as required to do community service.

"I understand however, that does nothing to atone for the things I did to you specifically though. I feel obligated to ask if there is anything you wish of me. I don't expect I could make it up to you. These kind of things are not something that can be swept under a rug and fixed as easily as on the schoolyard playground. But, I do know I want to be an honorable man again one day and this is as good of a place to start as any, if you'll let me that is."

Offline nephero

Re: Diagnosis [Neph]
« Reply #13 on: May 04, 2018, 01:13:17 pm »
   Nico narrowed their eyes at Dash as the man moved to do as he was told, but not without his share of commentary over the fact. But Nico should’ve known that. Dashiell Feldspar wasn’t the sort to just do as he was told, no— there had to be a whole event about the thing, whatever it took to get a rise out of whoever he was with. He liked to poke the bear, and he liked to poke the bear as often as humanly possible.

   How many fights had been stoked back to life from that? Nico sighed, an old unnameable ache resurfacing somewhere in their chest at the sheer volumes of fights they’d been privy to. All the frustrations about Dashiell’s attitude, about how he always had to have the last word, how nothing was ever finished until he did.

   Dashiell followed orders, all right, but he never gave over full control. He remained his own man at his very core, even when a lack of concession made things so much worse. Nicodemo had seen plenty of his sort over the years: they tended to be the sorts that either died in the line of duty, or ended up frustrating their commanding officers to the point of being relegated to scrubbing latrines the rest of their miserable careers.

   And yet Dashiell was not elbow deep in a toilet. He had been put on leave for his more… violent outbursts as of late, but he’d never stopped being a key figure in the Libran military. Nico had never quite considered it, but, if Dashiell was so bad so much of the time, it should have reflected on his service record.

   But Dashiell was a Duo. Was now a Solo. Was now thoroughly not Sergeant of Shitters. There was something to be said about professional versus personal lives, but Nico had yet to meet someone who could thoroughly sever the difference between the two and live each life separately from one another. They doubted Dashiell was so conniving; brash and a complete asshole, but not the Machiavellian sort. The Machiavellian sort wouldn’t have stormed up to a person at a café and start a fistfight to get what he wanted. Or admit he was wrong to do it.

   As Dashiell pulled the wrapper off the blueberry muffin he’d selected and ate a part of the top off, Nico considered that maybe the reason so many of those fights had gotten to their ears because Reese had wanted them to. Dashiell was impossible to fully control.

   And that probably drove Reese bonkers more than any little shitty thing Dashiell had done that day.

   Nico touched at the mug of tea in front of them, fingers twitching where the temperature was just too hot, and then finally settling against the smoothness of the handle. They listened to the rest of what Dashiell had to say (because of course there was more to say), and blinked in surprise when Dashiell got to the part about making it up to them.

   About wanting to be an honorable man again.

   Nico touched at one canine with their tongue, before shifting in their seat to fully face Dashiell, staring into his face and considering everything they saw.

   “It doesn’t atone for it, you’re right. Being put on leave and community service for beating the shit out of another member of the military seems like a slap on the wrist. The fact that you let yourself behave like an animal, when I know you’ve been trained better than that, is inexcusable. It isn’t something that can be fixed, or swept, or whatever other kind of metaphor you want to apply to it.”

   Nico took a moment, lifted their mug, and took a cautious sip, wincing a bit when it was, in fact, still way too hot and they had to set the mug back down again.

   “But, if you’re keen on making me the starting point of your own personal little journey, then fine. I’ll tell you exactly how you can make it up to me: be an honorable man.”

   Finally, Nico reached into the box of pastries and lifted out their own muffin, screwing off the top and setting that to the side while they ate a piece of the bottom first.

   “Be better. Do that, and, well. I won’t be unhappy about it.”

Offline GoblinFae

Re: Diagnosis [Neph]
« Reply #14 on: May 04, 2018, 07:34:12 pm »
He nodded his head quietly as Nico gave him no quarter. Truth be told, Dashiell would not have it any other way. He had meant every word he had said. He was no looking for roses and platitudes, for assurances and boosts to his ego that he was being too hard on himself, that he was a victim, that he was better than he was.

Because he wasn't.

Dashiell Feldspar was a self-righteous, unholy prick with an attitude problem that his extensive military record of service had yet to correct. He always knew how far to push before the nuclear war trigger was about to be pulled. He knew just how far to poke and prod his latest victim until they were standing on the edge of the cliff and then all he had to do was take a step back and breathe for them to plunge over that precipice all on their own. Dash had become the master digging the knife in without breaking the skin.

It used to drive Reese up a wall and he had loved every minute of it. He had loved the way their eyes would light with the fire of their rage, the way their whole body would coil, ready to spring. He had loved it all the more to see them lose their cool while he stood there unfazed and thoroughly satisfied in the hellstorm he had unleashed.

In the end though he wasn't the one having the last laugh. As their relationship progressed, no matter what Dash did good or bad Reese would lose their cool. In the end Reese was dead and Dashiell only had himself to blame. In the end he was still the Duo turned Solo with an attitude problem that was known to butt heads from time to time. Nothing had changed and everything was different. Such was life.

But then Nico continued and Dashiell was sure he was losing his mind. His gaze shot up, wide-eyed in surprise because that was the last thing he had expected to be asked of him.

Be an honorable man.

Was it really that simple? Was that all it would take? Could he even succeed at this rate? What did it mean to be honorable? He used to know. He used to think he was that type of man. Hell he had said as much to Nicodemo even but had he really been? Dashiell knew he wanted to be one, that much was certain.

His head cocked to the side like a curious hound's as his brow furrowed slightly. "Be better," he repeated. A humorless smile tugged at his lips. "That's seriously all you want? And you mean that?"

Dashiell tilted his head the rest of the way to his shoulder so that it popped before sitting up straight and taking a gulp of his scalding tea. The burn to the back of his tongue and roof of his mouth stung but was enough to ground him for the moment. He smirked and nodded his head once.

"If that's what you want, then who am I to deny you it?" Dashiell licked his lips nervously before adding quietly, "Thank you...for your hospitality and for listening. Both are more than I deserve and I respect you for that. So thank you." As he spoke his thumb ran around the rim of his mug anxiously. Apologizing was a good first step towards being honorable in his book. Still Dashiell felt that this tentative arrangement was stable enough to remain put even for a few minutes longer. He did not quite deem it necessary to run with his tail between his legs quite yet.

Picking at his muffin he continued, "are you...recovered-recovering well from my...assault upon your person?"

 

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