takeroot | erku inbox

[Oh, and that is a whole bunch of words, isn't it. His expression twists, he kicks some sand again, and then he just— just sits, just straight up drops and sits in the sand, arms still crossed tight and more petulant than ever.

Because, see, it's a whole bunch of words that are good, and as potent as his ability to hold a grudge is, his hunger for any scrap of earnest affection he can get is just as strong. It's all at once very frustrating, and so he is going to sit here and sulk in the sand for who knows how much longer.

Not very, but enough.]

None of the time I've spent with you has been transactional. You should know that.

[Just... to confirm. After certain things that were said. And he's already made it clear, he thinks, just how much being accused of the opposite was, hm, upsetting, so he supposes he can lapse into silence briefly after that.

... He's got nothing; it was a lot easier to get past these personal slights when he wasn't invested in the other person, huh. Damn.]

I am... I don't know. Distraught, I suppose.

As am I!

[Oran grabs at his tail, which has been flicking around and is likely to whack him. Holding it in his lap keeps his hands from his face, and gives a good look at the utter failure of a poker face after all. His eyes are leaking and his lips are pursed, giving his already large jaw a rather prominent jut that isn't pouting, okay?]

I would have rather rolled myself into that pool than say a single hurtful thing. And... and that is another thing. I don't use spells on people, like that, unless there's nothing else and... I've never been puppeted like this, I don't know what to do. I don't want to hurt you again.

[Ohh, don't cry, he cannot handle boys crying, stop that at once. He glances at Oran only for a second, looking down hastily again and uncrossing his arms finally to stick his fingers in the sand for something to fidget with, keep himself occupied. Hmm.]

Though it is by no means comforting, you're hardly the first person who's hurt me. [Probably not the last, either, because that's just how things go--] But you are the first to want to make things right. As a result I am navigating blindly into the storm, as it were— I couldn't say what happens next.

[If there were a simple solution he'd have taken it already, whether that meant leaning into upset or olive branch or something else. Alas. He knows this: that Oran's remorse is as genuine as he'll ever know for sure, and that must mean something for how to proceed.]

What do you think?

I'm... afraid. What I did to you was unforgivable. Everything I did that day was unforgivable.

[He's looking down, picking idly at the keratinous edge of one of his tail ridges. He'd heard Constantin come to a sit, and it makes him both heartened and extremely nervous. He still has a bruise from one nicely aimed punch, and he's afraid this will dissolve again into fighting, somehow, some way.]

It would probably be safer to keep our distance, one way or another, wouldn't it?

[The words coming out of his mouth are a hard sell, even to him. He's an impulsive creature and he doesn't want to stay away from Constantin. He's only afraid of the consequences.]

Well, it isn't exactly your forgiveness that's in question here, is it?

[Not that he's given any, not definitively. Belief in Oran's remorse and the ever-mounting need to accept it as genuine are not the same thing as forgiveness, in the traditional sense. Not really. But still, what he can and cannot forgive is only for him to decide.]

I'm not afraid of you, [he says, not defensively; just a fact, that he is unafraid of being here, in Oran's presence, even after what happened. What measure of trust had existed between them has been shaken, certainly, but he can sit here on the sand and not fear being attacked again, at least.] And I don't know if you're right or not. But I would miss you.

[And therein lies the element of selfishness, the question of whether he could forgive for the sake of keeping the thing that makes him, arguably, happy. Or is that just how forgiveness is supposed to work? He honestly doesn't know; he's never tried before.]

[That's a truth they can both share. Oran drops one hand to the driftwood and fidgets more, fingers playing over pools of sand caught against one time-worn knot of wood.]

I would... I would, too. I really would.

[He looks over to Constantin again, trying desperately to temper his hope. He likes this silly man. He likes the way he talks, and the way he goes casually forward into everything he does like it's a good excuse for some fun.

He very much likes the way Constantin had treated him in bed, with breakfast, with walks on this self-same beach. Really, throwing himself into solitude is the stuff out of bardic tragedies. Is he really interested in becoming the subject of one of those?]

If something strange occurs, I'll make sure to be nowhere near you.

[A halfcocked compromise he's hoping passes an olive-ish branch back. He even says that last almost as if in question.]

[It's a solution that holds water about as well as Constantin's own "eat the aphrodisiac-doused food and then just stay home alone" solution to, well, that other thing— which he supposes is the best any of them can do in this place to truly avoid the island's crueler tricks. He runs through it again, mentally-- if he believes Oran to be sincere here, then this much should be... a good start. It's not pretending it never happened - that he knows he couldn't have agreed to.

Something still feels off, though, but he wonders if that isn't just how this place is after long enough. If the Augur's apparent lack of understanding - as surely the island does not simply do things without the Augur's push, he assumes - is only going to sow the opposite of what it wants every now and again.

Fun thought. He sighs, eventually, and then nods.]

Alright. Then should something strange indeed occur, I shall... patiently await the return of my friend. And I will trust in my friend to tell me if his old fears are creeping up on him again.

[...Yeah, it doesn't sound like a rock solid plan, but he supposes it's the best they'll get without turning back time a few weeks.

He leans forward some to peer at Oran, squinting a little. One last olive branch, then, if he can cinch it--]

Are you still crying? Come over here. [A beat.] I promise I've gotten all the fighting out of my system.

[Oran turns away, touching his own face at first in disbelief and then in embarrassment, wiping a sleeve across his face and his eyes and maybe his nose as well.]

Ah, it's nothing. It really...

[Though of course it's not, and he's not putting any effort into pretending. He looks Constantin over before he joins him on the sand. He makes a reach for the man's hand before he draws it to his chest, head bowed over it.]

I vow never to do you harm again, to the very best of my ability.

Constantin...

[He pauses, trying very hard not to let any of the glistening idiot tears in his eyes go over the edge again.]

You really are a truly excellent friend.

[Oh, hello— Constantin blinks at him, surprised by the sudden, ah- the sudden vow? Bowed over his hand like that? It's something he might have expected from Oran in jest, at any other time, and so now to have him do this so seriously in this moment, Constantin can't help the color that rises in his cheeks. Even in this less than pleasant context, this is so...

Well, dang, sir. He opens and shuts his mouth a few times, briefly at a loss.]

You, ah... Well, you've certainly surprised me.

[He wiggles his hand out from Oran's grip to cup his cheek, heedless of any errant tears that might yet fall.]

I... forgive you, then, which is rather new for me, so I shall do my level best.

[The tiefling gives a little huff, a laugh or a snort or a failed attempt to stop a sob. It's hard to tell.]

I dropped you in hot water. So stupid.

Do you ever have moments where in the back of your mind you are just screaming and screaming and the rest of you gets on with whatever thing it is that you're doing... I've never felt so...

But... it's done, there are no snakes. I won't go near one again if it means I don't have anything like that experience. Nor green water, for that matter.

[Absinthe? Right out. Oran leans into Constantin's palm and then, a moment later, throws his arms around him in an awkward hug.]

You did, yes—

[But let's not have him think about it any more than he has to, that sounds like a nice plan! If he's truly to forgive this thing and believe that Oran had no ability to stop himself from obeying whatever the water put into his head, then good gracious, he cannot keep thinking about being kicked face-down into water.

He hasn't time to respond before Oran goes in for the hug, and it takes him a second or two to wrap his arms around him in turn. Yes, yes, it's alright. Probably. Credit him this, the weight of Oran in his arms is a relief, with no snakes trying to bite his face again...]

I don't— I don't know what it's like, no. I am sorry that you had to learn.

[He shuts his mouth, remembering the trouble it's already gotten him in. But... he nods, and he eventually he shifts to a more comfortable grip.

Pulling back, he seems at least to have gotten his face under control.]

I should hope that... that we're safe for a time. Thank you for this.

[He's feeling desperately awkward, but he's trying.]

I may need a few days. I'm still trying to, ah, put things back together.

[And Even hasn't even come home, yet. Things aren't all well in the tiefling household. Oran gives a tight grin.]

But, if you need me, you can always throw pebbles at my window?

[Oh, it's awkward indeed, but in a different way than it was before. There's a distinct difference between the two that's enough to make Constantin smile, just a little, strained as it may be. They should be... alright, he thinks. Eventually.]

I might. In a little while.

[After, ah, everybody has some time to digest all that's happened and make some kind of peace with it. Or something.

He hesitates a moment before leaning in to press a kiss to Oran's forehead that is, honestly, more like just a bump. It's affectionate, at least. Hmm.]

I do care about you, you know. Still.

[It will take more than one island madness fight to change that, which— well, perhaps it helps both of them for him to say it out loud.]

[That little admission makes Oran duck, and the tiefling swallows a sigh; it's embarrassing to admit that he is just a little bit smitten. Yet still, that statement leaves an impact on him.]

I'm glad. You... have been a good friend.

You almost sound surprised! [Ah, but he chuckles, despite himself--] If you'd like to know a secret, no one is more surprised than I.

[How does one even have friends, let alone intimate ones? He's been wildly hoping for the best and marveling at his luck the whole time.]

Mm— well, I'm sure you'd like... to get back to it.

[To whatever he's doing to work things out, that is, here phrased as delicately as Constantin can think of.]

[Oran's brows bunch together, though he's not sure what to say to that. He's fairly sure the bar has been set so low as to be buried in the ground at this point... but maybe Constantin is being gently sarcastic about that.

In any case, he knows a dismissal when he hears one, awkward though it may be. And... today, at least, he's not sure he feels safe or well enough to contest it. So he pushes himself to his feet and dusts the worst of the sand off.]

Thank you. Thank you again, for talking to me. I know you didn't have to.

I'll... um... I'll be seeing you around.

[Better to scurry before he can say something stupid. He's been struck a blow over what horrors can come tumbling out of his mouth.]

[Constantin waves a hand, like please, he also knows he did not have to come out here at all, they need not harp on it.]

Hmm, alright. I think I might like to stay here a while, so...

[So it's time for him to stare moodily at the ocean for some length of time instead of putting too much pressure on this... thing. He came, he talked, he is cautiously optimistic, but now he would like to look at some waves by himself.

He looks up at Oran for a moment quietly, just looking. Mm.]

Take care of yourself, won't you? I'll see you.

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