middleofsomewhere | Fissures of Time: Start

Fissures of Time: Start

"Good Morning Voidtreckers, today is day eight of the month of Poi."
The voice echoes through the train as passengers wake up in their beds. Not long afterwards their SCA’s glow with the colour of the void and a holographic image appears...

FISSURES OF TIME: START

... BASE CAMP

THE VOIDTRECKER EXPRESS LANDS CLOSE TO A GIANT OF A FORTRESS SAT ATOP A HILL, A RIVER BORDERING THE WAY TO A NEARBY TOWN. 'Please head to the location marked on your map,' the Voidtrecker Express speaks through the intercoms before opening the doors out.

Passing the threashold, Voidtreckers are welcomed to a mild heat, accompanied by a passing spring breeze; the grass underfoot is a healthy wheat-yellow, with a few unfamiliar flowers dotted about. Checking their maps, they'll see they're at the very far southwest, and their their destination is the fortress - or temple - a small walk from way they are. They'll know they're heading the right direction when two figures dressed in their own military gear meet them halfway, neither human.

'Voidtreckers?' One greets with a nod, then jerks their head to the fortress. 'Follow us. We'll tell you and give you what you need; get you ready for the week you're in for.'

Voidtreckers that follow are led into spacious halls, a Grecian-like architecture with columns carved into flowering patterns, statues of idols lining the walls. There's a faint murmur of activity, but they don't see too many people before they're led into a nearby room filled with containers that close in the space. Even as they enter, a holographic map floats visibly mid-air like the one on their SCAs.

The two people go to either side of it, and it's the one from earlier that speaks again.

'This is Kolokifi's domain- most of it, anyway. Down here where we are is Eilifi's land. Another god, but a history lesson isn't what you need unless you ask for it. All up this way-' the person makes a circular motion in front of the map, leaving a visible mark on it. '--is where time distortions will be happening. The easy explan' of them is that points in the past get pulled into the present - echoes of them. Fragments, moments - Time here got well and screwed up, and tries to bring up points in the past to the present.

'Now, some have a problem with getting rid of the slips of the people that come through, so I'm going to get into that now. Thing is, if they can stick around? They will, but most of them can't. All of this is just Time trying to make a copy of the past appear, so thinking you can leave the distortions alone make everyone whole? Isn't going to work as well as you think. It just makes more problems, and that isn't pretty.' They snort. 'They're gonna fight and sound like people 'cause they are - real unfortunate, unlucky sods. If you're gonna have problems with it, don't deal with them. Leave 'em to whoever with you can, or send a signal for us on the maps. Double tap the area and then get out. There's no point gettin' trauma on top of what's already on your plate.'

Finally they nod to the various containers around.

'But don't worry, it isn't all sad shit. You've got fields to deal with too, open spaces. Boring work, but it's what we're here for. So if you're going, let's get you ready. And you come back here when you need anything.'

GEARING UP. They go through the different roles required, what's best to be done, what does what. They'll be shown how to work an equaliser, how to fit and wear the eye and earpieces - with other designs available if needed - to use the remote-controlled scouting drones.

Take the time to open up an equaliser box yourself, try to work a scouting drone. There are also medical kits, with boxes containing herbal medicine 'blessed by the Spring god here - make sure you can take it,' the Ministry worker helping them warns. There's devices in all of the kits, small scanners to double-check that a medicine won't react poorly to whatever it scans. Similar technology to what the SCAs use, but more advanced.

There's no rush to leave, and the group will also be shown where some spare carts and animals for pulling are outside, for packing up supplies on.

STAYING BACK. But people don't need to go. They can stay with the Voidtrecker Express, use a few facilities in the Ministry base, or wander the immediate area, so long as they don't go beyond the river that down the hill the fortress sits on. There's the train itself that people can stick to, take pillows and their blankets outside to enjoy the fresh air.

Or you could be coming back this way during the mission. The Ministry base has a kitchen free to use, water, and every day fresh fruit and vegetables come in carts from the same figure, flour and oats. If someone wants, they can take some of the food, or use it to make supplies for the Voidtreckers to receive if they come back this way, or other missionaries.

How they spend their time is up to them.

... KOLOKIFI'S DOMAIN

FOR A WEEK, VOIDTRECKERS WILL BECOME FAMILIAR WITH THE SAME TORN, SCARRED LAND. Despite the skies being a clearer silver-grey nearer to the Ministry base, it keeps close to a blood-red as Voidtreckers wander its terrain. Heat clings to them in the dry air, the dirt as parched as the scenery leaves the eyes.

Those with scouting droners would do well to getting used to their new toys while they travel, watching out for what lies ahead. Though just from looking at it, there's nothing but the same drained landscape. Those who can fly may be tempted to do so, to get ahead. Those with superspeed, what's the point of hanging around? But eventually, everyone will learn what happens if you simply wander around here...

WHAT ONCE WAS. Sometimes, the time distortions are innocuous - a glimpse into peaceful times, a view of the world as it once was. A step, one single move forward into a time distortion, and the world around you changes. Gone is the suffering heat and chalky environment, and the world blossoms. Wild yellow-grass sways every-which way, the sky sits with fluffy clouds against and blushed pink than the blood-red.

You can move around, explore for a little while, but up until a point, the world just stops: you run, you fly, you walk, but it makes no difference.

...It also means you can't leave. Well, good thing your SCA still works to ask for help.

These time distortions will be the simplest to deal with, only occupied by a few wild animals, maybe fish in a stream. A good place to practice with the equaliser, and to watch as the scenery fades to the stark reality of the present day.

UNEARTHED WAR. But then, peace isn't what led this land into the state it is. The skies are a lavender and red, and sometimes:

Mother Nature

'Who goes there!'

'You're no warrior of Kolokifi! Come quietly under her mercy, or suffer her judgment!'

( MOD NOTE: Play these scenarios to whatever degree you like; people can be knocked unconscious or situations can't be helped. Choose what is best for yourself or your character. )

IDYLLIC LIFE. Except, it's not a battlefield that is the hardest to deal with. There are the instances of peace, but when it comes with those more aware than just the flowers or animals - but with people.

Sometimes, they might be moved around: a pair on a picnic, or people with tents by a lake, enjoying themselves. Or, you might get asked what you're up to, asked to join them. Perhaps it's a merchant going to the next town. 'Kolokifi may be a blessed God, but you know Silifi's fields bring their best this time of year.'

They may disappear, without knowing what you were doing - or realise something is wrong, just towards the end. Steel your heart.

The hardest are the towns, sections of them, and moving around them, trying to find the best place to set up.

But if an equaliser goes off too early, doesn't get set in the best place (was it because the best place was in a river? Where a house is, with nowhere to set the equaliser?), then fractions of this settlement will start to disappear - and the civillians will notice, and the panic will be quick.

If it becomes too tough, remember: A marker can be set on the maps and a call made for another group - non-Voidtreckers - to do the job.

HEAVY HEARTS IN REST. There will be enough for four separate camps to be set out from the supplies, the tents wide and spacious to put in simple bedding for the stragglers from the time distortions that do make it out.

It's here where they should be brought. Calm them down, reassure them, until you can find someone to take them to the Ministry base. This will be some work, depending on how panicked they are, distrustful. The less care and stealth used when setting Equalisers and getting rid of time distortions, the less reason these people will have to care about what the Voidtreckers have to offer - and they're already scared.

Kids, adults, the elderly - they'll try to make their escape, and sometimes end up in new distortions.

Voidtreckers will need to coordinate well with the different camps, with where their people are going. There's only so many Equalisers, and it is good to keep moving around.

And very likely, this will be a mission heavier on the heart than the body. Speak with one another, share in the weight of this world's tragedy.

OOC NOTES

OOC post. Ask questions here. Let us know about shenanigans here. NPC requests here, set up a thread here. Rewards go here.

Reminder of goals: Red Team is to deal with the heavier war-time distortions, keeping Orange people setting Equalisers safe, who will also use scouting drones + other methods to locate distortions. Purple Team aids in the smaller, more scattered distortions (includes 'idyllic' distortions), and helping Blue locate misplaced people, keeping them safe. Blue also protects and moves the camps.

NPC fighters: Their skills vary, depending on what you want to come up against. But they have guns, swords, shielding; nature can be particularly vengeful, and even typhoons might be deployed. People will be rewound from where they're going to where they were; and warriors sometimes have their own quick means of healing.

Play with whatever obstacles you want! As ever you don't have to stick to the prompts we write, this is a setting where a lot of wildness can happen so feel free to write your own distortions to take down! Also, again: For anything traumatic, you can have your characters miss anything too distressing for them. There are a lot of time distortions in very ordinary settings.

Further Prompt Ideas: Click!

Blue Team:

You're dealing with a misplaced person, and how agreeable are they? Did they run off on foot? Or use the cart animal in the night? Now you're looking for them - and either with or without them, you've ended up in a time distortion.
The camp's moving, and you're setting up for the first time, packing away for the second. Are you used to the heat? The repetition?
You've got food from the train to work with for meals, but the Ministry has packed everyone a mix too. Some ration foods that you add water to, but also an orso-like pasta and types of chicken breast (at least, it tastes like chicken), cooking sauces, pita breads. Does your character know how to cook?
You just want a change of scenery, and someone in the camp is going to one of the time distortions. Maybe you go along, just to bring out some food, or just out of curiosisty.
There's nothing stopping you from using a scouting drone - actually, being in one place makes it easy. You can speak to people through the drone. How much can you help from afar?

Orange Team:

It's your job to set up Equalisers. How confusing are they to you? Do you get unlucky? Does it jam at a bad time?
You have to set up an Equaliser in a settlement. And if it wasn't bad enough, there's nowhere good to put them except in someone's backyard/right in front of a shop stall. These people aren't pleased. They're going to get suspicious!
This distortion is too big for the amount of Equalisers you and the other person have with you. Do you realise this? Even when it's a peaceful distortion, this can be tricky - you have to pack one up and move it! Or the worst happens when you set them off, and only erase half the place - and people notice.

Red Team:

Fire burns around you as war rages. The equalisers need to be set but to get them in place the fires need put out. Tricky when there are a whole bunch of soldiers currently lighting them.
Red's job is to deal with the obstacles of the more physical-demanding distortions, but that doesn't mean they're easy to find. You end up in scenic landscapes - and you're not the person with an equaliser.
Sometimes - or most of the time - the fighters are not match for your strength. But sometimes, these warriors have skills that can manage to get you defenceless, maybe even nullify your powers.
Do you care about murder? Sometimes, it's simple self-defence - they're attacking first. But not everyone in a war time distortion is an attacker - sometimes they're normal civillians caught up in the chaos. Maybe they even help you, take your side - and you know they're soon going to disappear.
Even Red Team needs a break now and then. Wandering around at random just drops you into distortions that you can find a way to deal with. Or are you seeing what you can do? Maybe there's more that can be done than just waiting on Orange Team.
But even so, there are camps moving around - you should head back to one. Or will you risk sleeping out where a distortion might hit?

Purple Team:

Whilst helping in a town based distortion so thing goes wrong. The market has vanished and people have noticed. Specifically these angry traders, heading towards your team with the intent to stop them in their tracks.
People aren't the only problem. A distortion has spooked a heard of animals and they are stampeding. This makes it very difficult to place Equalisers.
You stumble upon a couple of chatty locals in this distortion. The equalisers still need to be set without causing suspicion so someone needs to be a distraction. How do you make small talk with people you are about to erase from time?
Often it is the terrain that makes things difficult. Clear trees or rockfalls or find a route across a difficult river.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There's a lot of terms that Inigo doesn't recognize here. But he does the best he can to try and follow along with the explanation all the same - and Esteban doing his best to compare stuff to things Inigo does know helps a lot to generate a mental image of all of this inside of Inigo's head.

Besides, it's not hard to imagine Esteban climbing things all over the place. The other is like a bundle of energy with a person skin wrapped around it. There's no way he could sit still, or see something that pretty and not want to get closer to it. That's Esteban for you, Inigo thinks - as far as he knows the other, anyway.

They should really bring these people back to camp now though, Inigo thinks once they're back at where the stragglers and their teammates are. On the other hand, he doesn't want Esteban to get the idea that Inigo isn't interested in his story, despite his lack of reaction.

And despite the fact that he doesn't reach out to the hand when Esteban holds it out to him, instead waiting for the other to grab his hand first. It's like all life and energy has left Inigo for the moment.

"Sorry that you don't have something like that to climb here," he instead replies, his tone still carefully neutral. It's so hard to find any emotion anywhere around him. It's not in his eyes, not in his expression, not in his voice.

Not even in the hand he's holding.

"But regardless, even if you're used to being hurt, we should still let someone look at you. You shouldn't head into the next distortion before you're sure you're doing fine."

The half-elf's eyebrows are furrowed, but he still keeps Inigo's hand in his own, carefully, as if he could give comfort through his gentle hold. There's a shake of his head, though at what, it can be anyone's guess. The climbing? Or the encouragement (again) to see a healer? Either of them, or maybe both-- Esteban is not addressing these concern, not right now, because he has his own, and even though he's gotten scratches, they're nothing deep and-- and--

"Inigo, what's wrong?" He doesn't dare blink in case he misses something. "You're worrying me." It... comes out in a murmured lull, at the very least, controlled in his tone so that he doesn't alert anyone else, but it comes out... all at once. He winces, realizing that he should have at least tried to soften the question, but the words had been hovering for too long and all he's done has failed so far.

He's better at cheering people up. Brushing aside grey clouds and painting them with silver lightings. Storms? Esteban doesn't know what to do with silent storms that linger underneath the skin. He doesn't know how to help, no matter how much he wants to. And 'Dians, he does want to.

He's just... clumsy at it.

Even though it's not like the question is entirely unexpected, it still feels like it's striking like lightning. It's not sudden, but the impact is big all the same. Inigo feels like he's been punched straight in the stomach. Not necessarily by just the question itself, but more just the way Esteban says it. So quietly, half-muttered.

Inigo doesn't want to worry the other. He doesn't want to worry anyone. That's exactly why he's doing this, and yet.. it seems like it's totally backfired on him all the same, huh.

".. don't worry about it, Esteban."

Inigo keeps his own voice relatively low in volume too, but still clearly audible to the other.

"It's not your fault."

That's.. not really an answer to the other's question, is it? But Inigo would prefer to never talk about what's bothering him, especially when it's something that can't be fixed.

Instead the least he can do - or maybe the only thing he can do here - is reassure the other that it's not his fault. And that much is true. Inigo is being very genuine about it. Esteban didn't cause any of this, it's just something that's been haunting Inigo for much longer than just today.

That's... not much of an answer. The comment added for his own benefit doesn't quell his worry either-- he'd thought so at first, but it was-- it hadn't seemed to stick properly the longer Inigo remained in this state. Esteban knows that there are layers upon layers to what just happened, even on his side, so he expects it's... similar for his companion.

"Can anyone help?" He offers again, and his voice is less of a mess, but it does sound a little louder now. He tampers it down yet again, before accidentally attracting anymore attention. It's a testament to Esteban's worry that, despite his voice dropping to low and hushed tones that he has not used before-- discreet is not his usual vocal range-- his words are sharper, fuller. Carefully pronounced so that they are not dismissed.

"Should I call Tidus?" Maybe the sunshine that Tidus brings along would be a better comfort than Esteban can share. He's already halfway through the motion of scrolling through the SCA's tiny, fiddly buttons he absolutely hates, searching for the call list he's just learned to use. "He can meet us up back in camp."

Esteban doesn't... He's just met Inigo a few weeks ago. Inigo is precious to him, and he wants to do his best to help him-- but it feels like he shouldn't press for more when he might only manage to hurt his friend. If Tidus can help better, then, Esteban will play the messenger, and take a step back. It's the best thing he can think of right now.

Edited (Weird sentence structure) 2022-02-10 21:56 (UTC)

"N-- No!"

The single word escapes Inigo just a little bit too quickly, but he can't help it. Especially since Esteban is already scrolling down the list of contacts, bringing the possibility that he'll call Tidus just way too close. It's not even like the other doesn't know about Inigo's current state as well, but it's just-- he doesn't want to bother him with it.

He doesn't want to bother anyone with it. It'd be so much easier if Esteban had just never asked about it in the first place, but of course the other can't just ignore it. He's way too caring.

Realising just how quickly and instinctively that 'no' escaped him, Inigo frowns, looking embarrassed and disappointed - in himself though, when it comes to that latter one.

"That's not it." Something about his voice is almost pleading, because the last, the very last thing he'd want the other to take away from this is that he's somehow not important to Inigo. Or at the very least not important enough to help him.

No one could help him, after all. It's got nothing to do with how long he has known the other.

"I'm just.." He starts, then stops. His stomach churns to a point where he almost feels nauseous. "I'm just screwed up."

It's not the most elaborate way to put it, but Inigo feels that if he dives any further into the details, he might just have a total breakdown here on the spot. And he can't afford that, not when they've got a group of still agitated displaced people to return to camp.

"And some days that's easier to deal with than others."

This isn't a good day. This entire mission hasn't been good for it so far.

At least Inigo sounds like he's being very honest about everything he's saying - though he, at the same time, sounds like he hates every single word that comes out of his mouth. But if he hadn't told Esteban, the other would have felt bad and made assumptions too--

So it's just a lose-lose situation, no matter what he says or doesn't say here.

He'd managed to stop Esteban at least. Eyes wide and staring at him, sitting still for just a moment-- long enough to let Inigo speak, and-- 'Dians, he's messed up. Pushed his big nose where it didn't belong and asked for too much and Inigo is hurting, and yet-- and yet.

"You are not screwed up!" Shit-- shit! His voice barely stays low enough to remain quiet and he has to lash down the snarl that presses across the back of his throat, tying it down and away and covering it because that's his friend who is putting himself down, that's Inigo speaking and he's not angry at him, he's angry that he's hurting!

'Dians, he's pretty sure he's not supposed to say that, he's not supposed to dismiss his concerns like this, but Esteban is already reaching for his friend and kicking aside any other thought than needing to help, needing to heal, needing to say just the right thing which he knows, he knows he can't fucking find, because he's never been smart with words, but he can't ever consider not doing anything.

He doesn't even think, doesn't have time to think anything other than burying his friend in the fiercest hug he can manage, pressing him against heart and ribs and bruises so hard that they sting, his entire side burning, but he will not let go. Not now. He barely registers the resistance of his shirt before it splits right down the back, and his wings sweep out to engulf Inigo until he is cocooned in warmth, wrapped up in as much safety as Esteban can ever offer anyone.

"Look-- no-- listen--" He breathes deeply, carefully, trying so hard not to scare him, not to hurt him further. Dead Guardians in a ditch, if he's frightened Inigo off because of how he'd reacted-- is still reacting-- he will never forgive himself. "Please listen."

He's... not sure what he wants to say. There's too much stumbling across in his mind, words and thoughts and begging that he's not going to screw this up, he can't, he can't, even though maybe he already has.

At least the one good thing for Esteban here is the fact that Inigo doesn't move away. He doesn't resist to the other pulling him into that hug, though it's questionable how well he would even have been able to pull himself away with the way the other is putting those wings around him like that. It'd be like having to wrestle himself out of a cocoon.

But Inigo doesn't try to do so. It was hard to say that, and a part of him would love to run away forever, disappear with the western sun, but he knows that it isn't possible within their current situation. He can't go anywhere, they're all stuck on the train together, on this mission together, so he'll have to live with his words.

Even if he is just doing so by passively allowing the other to wrap him up, standing there, basically a ragdoll inside of Esteban's arms.

".. Listen to what?" He slowly says, his voice so soft that it's almost a whisper between the two of them.

Esteban did tell him to listen, after all, but then didn't continue with any words that Inigo ought to listen to.

So he just stands there, waiting. Not looking the other in the eyes, though being hugged so tightly against him gives him a convenient excuse to not be able to do so.

He's bad at this. He's so, so bad at this, he knows it, he knows he has to explain, he has to try, he has to help, but he doesn't know how and it's horrifying to think that he might make this worse; he probably already is making it worse. There's a heartbeat in his throat, and he has to swallow it back, along with dust and dryness that wasn't there just a moment ago, and if Inigo wasn't so tightly held with all of his limbs, his wings would be trembling, unable to sit still.

He breathes, filling his lungs, trying to find his heart along this all.

"You-- 'Dians, Inigo. You are not screwed up." He repeats gently, because he believes it, believes it with all of his heart. Inigo is hurting, he's aching from wounds Esteban doesn't know-- can't dare ask about right now, when he's already twisted the knife in enough that his companion is back to that quiet, distant storm, but that does not make him any-- any less than the friend Esteban has grown so fond of.

He just-- he needs to say it, somehow. He needs to say it clearly, without--

"You're my friend, Inigo. You're my friend, an' you're precious to me." It's-- people usually get uncomfortable when he's that forwards, that fast, but Esteban doesn't care, it is not any less true. And these words are important to him, important to say; he's always so, so bloody aware that there's never enough time to say all that he ever wants to say and it just spills and spills, but always at the wrong time, always at the wrong moment. He doesn't know where he's going with this, but he has to-- he has to try.

"An'-- that you're hurting doesn' make you any less precious, doesn' make you any diff'rent th'n the time we danced t'gether, or the time you told me 'bout all the dragons an' manaketes of your world." He's trying, he really is, but there's words that aren't coming out right, that aren't saying enough.

"Hell, Inigo. I turned into a monster an' you came t' save me, anyways." He still doesn't understand why. He doesn't get why Inigo would risk himself for him; but it strings his lungs tight and his heart stumbled when he'd seen him.

When was the last time that Esteban had been protected at all? He can barely remember.

"How are you a monster?"

Sure, this technically isn't about Esteban. But this just works along the same lines as pretty much everything works for Inigo - it is so much easier to focus on other people than it is to focus on himself and what makes him, according to himself, so screwed up. It's so much easier to lift others up than to ever do the same for himself.

And so, when that simple word moves out of Esteban's mouth, Inigo can't help but focus on it first, still in the other's embrace.

"You're just a dragon shifter." Granted, those words might come easily to Inigo when he's used to manaketes, when he has spent so much time around Nah, who turned into a dragon like it was nothing all the time. When dragons are pretty much everywhere in his world. But it doesn't make the words any less true, or any less meant. "Does not fully being human, or not fully being an elf, make you any less of a person than the rest of us?"

He wonders if maybe people treated Esteban differently where he came from. If that's maybe where this is born from.

Maybe he's letting his thoughts drift off towards that on purpose, just to not have to think about himself.

"I.. helped you because you're my friend." He can agree with that, at least. "And because I didn't want to see you hurting. It's really as simple as that.."

No-- No!

This isn't-- he just used the wrong word, it wasn't about this, it was about Inigo, it was about his heart and his kindness, and, and now Esteban is losing his grip onto his argument, knowing, knowing it's all about to crash down. His thoughts scatter with his heartbeat even as he listens, even as he tries to catch their flutter-- a thousand words flying off, and Esteban can only try to reach to them, but it's too little, too late and he's lost them, lost them all.

"I don't-- I'm not--" 'Dians, no. He's so horrible at this, wishes he'd not said that, wishes he had not slipped up like that.

"I don't believe I'm a monster." It's just that others do. It's complicated. Esteban is confident in himself, confident in who he is; he knows himself, he does! But he does so hate be be feared, suffers from being hated just because he happens to look like a demon. He should have told Inigo this before-- he should have been more open, had already decided he was going to tell him, but he thought he'd have time-- and now.

Now Inigo is trying to help him when there isn't even a real reason to. 'Dians, he's messed up on so, so many fronts.

"It's just a thing in my world; but 't doesn't matter." The fight's taken out of him. As tightly as he'd held his companion before, it's looser now, wings sheltering them into a soft warmth that slowly unravels. Esteban's cheek presses to the top of Inigo's hair before he sighs softly, gently turning away.

The crushing hug is no longer bruising, then carefully loosened, very, very slowly, dragging every ounce of comfort he can out of it. But it was mostly for himself; Inigo didn't even return the hold, and now-- well. Esteban's piecing himself back together again. He has to.

"Thank you for saving me." He won't ever say it enough, drawing back and away just so that Inigo can see how sincere he is. He means it, he truly does, even if his voice is not as boisterous, or loud, or sunshine-bright. He still means it.

He almost trips into his own shoes when he steps away-- unlaced and sitting awkwardly on his misshapen feet. His shirt is a lost cause, even as he shifts back, wings curling and then gone, tail vanishing as if he'd never had one. The moment-- the... what he'd hoped to gift to his friend is lost, because Esteban never knows when to speak, and when to shut up.

So he shifts back and fixes his clothing, his shoes. Takes the shirt off because now it's just an awkward apron anyways, and tucks the rag into a beltloop. Takes his friend's hand into his own again, because even if he's messed up, Esteban doesn't know how to stop trying, anyways.

"C'mon. Let's get back to the others."

Inigo would like to argue that it does matter. Of course it matters when people think of Esteban in such a way - because Inigo knows it's wrong. He might not know the other as well or for as long as some of his other friends, but what Inigo has seen from the other until now is nothing but.. but just happiness. Esteban is bright, and cheerful, and he's always helping out other people. Of course it matters that people think he's a monster, because they're not allowed to hurt someone so kind like that.

But he does realise the hypocrisy of arguing that at this point, when Inigo is focusing entirely on Esteban while the other is trying to focus on Inigo. So he drops it for the moment, but he does file it away in the back of his mind, ready to bring it up later at some appropriate time.

For now he's fine with this, just getting these people back to camp along with them.

But just-- there's one thing he has to say right now. Or it wouldn't feel right. He tugs on Esteban's hand, trying to get his attention, and then adds: "I will always save you."

Despite the fact that Inigo still isn't seeming quite Inigo-esque in this moment, it sounds so serious. So meant.

"If you're ever in trouble here, you'll never have to go through that alone. I will always do whatever I can to help you."

He just wants to make sure Esteban knows that. That he's not hated here. That people love him, and that people will help him - even if other people won't, then Inigo always will, even if he has to make it his official duty.

And if Esteban has nothing else to do say to that, Inigo will obediently allow himself to be dragged along by the other, back to the others. If the other does have something to say, he'll listen too. Maybe the argument did slip away from focusing on Inigo to focusing on Esteban, but - Inigo can't help it, considering he's never thought a day in his life about himself, always about others first. And Esteban is even more important than just any random person.

There's a pause, of course there is; Esteban turns around to face him, eyes wide and blue like lost shards of a summer sky. He doesn't-- words are hard for him when they are important, always slipping away or too much and he never knows the balance between them, but Inigo--

He can't... say nothing.

The offer is-- Esteban has to swallow back his heart again, squeezing his companion's hand tightly, because he doesn't know how else to say that he's heard him, that he understood. That he is touched by the offer.

But Inigo shouldn't promise him that. Definitely, absolutely, Inigo shouldn't promise him that, because Esteban knows himself, really, he does, and his friend has no idea what he is offering to shoulder. (And if that makes Esteban the hypocrite, well, he knows that part of himself too).

But he doesn't know how to say that.

"I'll be happy if you're happy." Which is... not the best circumstances for him to say, considering how off-handed Inigo has been all day, but it's-- it's the seed that he wants to plant. So to speak.

"So save me that way?" he nudges, trying, trying hard to make the words make sense without saying too much, without words running from his mouth before he knows to stop them. "It-- it doesn't have to be everyday." He's aware that Inigo is struggling, and now he feels like he's putting pressure on him to be happy and, 'Dians, that's not the point of it.

"Just... be there. Talk t' me when you want to-- tell me 'bout your plants that you're growin', or about the dances that you love dancin' to." It's important. It's all so important, more important than Esteban ever wants his friend to realize. "And if you're havin' a rough day--" he squeezes his hand again, trying, hoping his words, weak as they are, might even help just, just a bit. "--I'll do my best t' save you."

He kinda sucks at it though.

Esteban is definitely better at it than he thinks he is.

Not that it shows much. Inigo is still too worried about releasing his emotions durign a mission such as this one. One that reminds him just a little bit too much of home, and reminds him just a little bit too much of all the difficult things and worries he's had to deal with. He's worried that if he lets even a little bit of control on his emotions slip right now, he will accidentally let it all slip, let it all out.

And he can't afford that. Not while he's still working.

But it gets close though. So dang close. Esteban is staring at him, with that cute face and those warm eyes of his, and it feels so easy to just melt into that. To just allow himself to do so. Inigo wants nothing more than to hold the other this time, to thank Esteban, to tell him how much his care means to Inigo. Not being able to do so right now.. It's hard. The only thing he can afford is to keep holding on to Esteban's hand.

And to speak. Not as elaborately as he'd like to, but he tries. He doens't want the other to think that all his effort here is going to waste. That he's not reaching Inigo at all.

"Thank you." And sorry, he means to say, for not being able to save you in that way right now.

Maybe later, maybe after the mission-- but he can't, not right now.

At least the words don't sound dismissive. Despite Inigo's still apparent outward serious attitude, he sounds like he means those words. And he does give Esteban's hand just the tiniest squeeze as they head back towards the other people.

They can guide these people back to camp. And then they can rest, and then go out once more to work.

And then, maybe, when the days of this mission are over, Inigo can afford to let his emotions slip enough again to hug Esteban once they're properly back on the train, he tells himself.

It's not... much of a reaction, if he's to be honest, but it is one, and Esteban has done enough harm for a day. Even thought he really wishes he could help, it doesn't seem like he can do anything more. Not right now. So he returns the thanks with a smile, bright as sunshine, trying, holding onto his end of the deal, even though it's not a fix, it's nothing more than a bit of comfort, if Inigo finds it at all comforting. He's not sure.

He doesn't know how to save Inigo from his own demons.

But Esteban will try, because he doesn't know how not to, and the few steps that bring them closer to the other members of the group are the only time the half-elf remains silent, picking up a thread to pull at from the weave of his life, a story about a story-weaver, and a dragon one no less-- he figures Inigo would like that.

"Growin' up," he starts, out of the blue, "there was this old dragon that I used t'call grandpa. We ended up stayin' near him for a few years, 'cause I got really attached. His scales were pitch black like ink, an' he'd told me all the stories an' legends dragons ever invented. About th' moon that was an egg, an' about th' song between the stars." He always had plenty of stories after all, and if, if one of them might be able to lift Inigo from his pain, Esteban would blabber until his voice went hoarse.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Fissures of Time: Start

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Q__Q

sorry, esteban ;;

don't worry, he's here to be the emotional support sunshine (or at least try to)

what a good little bean ;;

Pure of heart, Dumb of ass

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Fade to black?