icarian-carrion

[icarian-carrion]

im around im just battling a… very special syndrome. a… discontinuation syndrome. it’s very cool and fun and sexy and has not involved me falling over, turning around and around in circles, or staring into nothingness while my brain experiences tiny electric shocks every three seconds <3

[icarian-carrion]

She gasps her way through “You know… I get your point… but I’m not totally sure… what you want…” which is about all Tisha can get out before she starts retching again. Luckily for Rafael and Vaneza, her stomach is long empty, so she’s left gagging like a cat with a hairball, clutching Rafael’s arm with one hand and her aching stomach muscles with the other as they seize with the effort of trying to produce anything at all. “Like… I get it, but one, there’s no non life risking option on the table, and two… come on. You were gonna follow me. You’re a smart guy, Paddy. You know there's no going back.” Apparently she's jumped from Amidala, skipped Padme, and landed somewhere just past it.

Wherever they are, it’s a far cry from the tunnel they were in a minute ago - structurally it’s the same, the same bare concrete and gritty dirt, but the walls are slick with algae, and Tisha kneels in a thin layer of water. "We're... below. Definitely below. Closer, if the headshocks are any indication. Remember what I said? About the stairs? We're outside of... regular geometry now. Into something that… involves arcane math shit I’m way too stupid for. We may not even be anywhere we recognize as reality anymore. Part of São Paulo that doesn't really exist, except when it does." She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Anbe, any chance you've popped a shoulder back into its socket before?"

How foolish he was! Colmilho would've pleaded with the gods to give him any excuse to escape Rafael's lecture about military regimes and mistreated prisoners - especially since the delegado had no sympathy for said criminals, no matter how unjust their treatment might have been. Though when he was granted his unspoken wish, things just got worse. Of course they did. He caught Tisha from the corner of his eyes, and though he was quick to react, he only managed to brush his fingers against the folds of her clothes. She slipped through his grip, through the hatch in the ceiling, and Rafael's yell rang in his ears:

"TISHA!"

Immediately Rafael rushed past the delegado, Vaneza wanted to protest for fear of losing her father, though she knew she'd do it herself. Hell, she might just follow after him! So she watched Rafael climb the rusty steel rungs, flinging himself up to the gaping hole in the ceiling. His phobia didn't kick in as long as he was looking up, but now that he pushed his head through the hole, he was looking down looking up. Or was he looking up looking down? His head started spinning, fear gripping his heart, paralysing him. "I'm... I'm coming. Hold on," he breathed heavily, more to reassure himself, to make his intention real by voicing it first. Ungainly and clumsily he managed to climb through the hole and landed on the otherside as aesthetically as a wet sack of potatoes. Half crawling, he came up to Tisha and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm here. I'm with you."

On the other side, Vaneza and the delegado were arguing loudly. Colmilho's frustration was papable, while Nessa's determination was just like her father's. Eventually, she prevailed, and the delegado let her climb up to the hatch, and Rafael was there on the other side to catch her fall. The delegado followed, rope securily fastened to the steel rungs on the other side, and flung through the gaping hole, before he, much to Rafael's disappointment, climbed through as well and landed gracefully on his feet. "Either your short term memory is atrocious or you want to die!," he barked at Rafael, "I said: Don't play the fucking hero! Now where the Hell are we?!"

[icarian-carrion]

Tisha how's your head?

“Haven’t had any complaints yet.”

“You know, I love that joke, but if I did get a complaint that’s the last thing he’d ever say.”

[icarian-carrion]

“You caught me.” Hari admits, awkwardly rolling his shoulders into a shrug. “I haven’t really… I don’t know. I didn’t really know where to start. I barely dated before I met Victoria, and we got married back when everyone thought you were crazy for meeting someone from a dating site, and now there’s all these apps…” he waves a hand, hoping it sounds more like he just didn’t bother and less like he was hopelessly intimidated by the whole thing, which is much closer to the truth - twice the options he was working with before his marriage and none of the stupid, youthful confidence. “Come on, bring your wine.” He takes a basket of cherry tomatoes out of the fridge and sets them down next to the cutting board. “Cut these in half while I start the garlic, I’ll show you from there.”

"Oh wow. It's like a..." Richard paused trying to figure out the right words. "Like a whole family thing." He tried imagining a younger version of Hari cooking for Tisha and Daevi and Geetha. The same man that was standing in front of him cooking for his kids. Everyone sat around a table to eat his food. He tried imagining himself helping and stumbling on the thought that he didn't quite fit in the picture. "I would ask you to teach me if I didn't think I would ruin dinner. I don't think I have actually cooked once in my life." He had never had any reason to, really. There was more than one chef at the mansion. He had a personal chef when he was stuck in his apartment. This whole thing was— "Wait." Richard blinked a few times, a wide smile taking over his features. "Am I the first person you're going out with since your divorce?" He didn't know why he thought that was unreasonably adorable.

[icarian-carrion]

seerverse + posts

bonus

[icarian-carrion]

i ❤️ ... (button sets, part 1) by Claire Thompson

[icarian-carrion]

Hari is lucky to have his eyes on the cutting board when Richard asks. At least this way it’s possible that he won’t see the entire journey Hari’s face goes on while he tries to decide how long he can dodge the embarrassment of explaining anything about his life. “Uh… the first.” He laughs sheepishly. He takes a second to press the heel of his hand down on the flat of his knife to split a few cloves of garlic as he continues, “I learned pretty young, to take some of the load off my folks. And Victoria has a real job, so…” he jokes, “I haven’t, uh… I think you’re the first date I’ve cooked for since my twenties.” Which is a slightly evasive way of saying he’s the first date he’s had since his twenties.

And that was how Richard found himself sitting there by a kitchen isle full of scattered things that made his chest hurt, holding a wine glass poured by a man that made the hurting worse. "Well, now I'm curious." Richard chuckled. It was a nightmare of a situation, it should have made him want to run in the opposite direction, disappear to Europe for a while, forget his own name. It didn't. He had flown to fucking Canada just to look at Hari. "You have had a lot practice cooking or cooking for your dates?" Richard rose an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk tugging of his lips. "Are you secretly a womanizer, Hari? A man-and-womanizer?" He chuckled, head tilted to the side slightly, "I'll have you know I'm too handsome to be just another conquest."

[icarian-carrion]

Geetha almost tumbles over with the force of her laughter, only held up by the hand braced against Jason as he "hides" behind her. "Ah, you've run into the conservation officer." Yes, that's exactly what kids love. Conservation officers. "I'm afraid our wolf population is under strict protection, Mr. Cowboy." She swoops down to wrap an arm around Georgie, "Since you won't lower your weapon, I'm going to have to disarm you by force-" which amounts, of course, to more tickling, under his arms and in the crook of his neck, giggling the entire time. It's amazing how quickly she can shift in these moments, from longing to joy, from pensive to completely unselfconscious. Maybe it's all her years of experience as an aunt, but as she does lose balance and falls the few inches left to the ground, still laughing, it feels like something completely different.

The thing about falling in love, the thing Jason liked the most about falling in love, was that it happened without his input. It didn't match effort or time spent together, it wasn't something he could set his mind to and get. No amount of right or wrong words could slow down or rush its arrival. It wasn't up to him. One random day, one random girl could turn around to look at him and it would happen. Like a spark of something divine in a world that didn't have much of it left. He wished he could just cross the room and kiss her. "Yeah, I agree. It's much cooler than my hat." — And so Georgie walked his way to Jason, offering out his little hat. "You can have mine!" Smile bright and inviting. — and Jason thought he might die actually just then. "Wait, let's trade. Don't want you goin' 'round without one. Hats are important." Taking the, far too small, wolf hat for himself and carefully putting the black Stetson on the little guy's head, where it had the opposite problem, of course. Georgie having to hold it up to keep it from covering his eyes, while Jason let the wolf beanie sit on top of his head rather than put it on, making the ears move. — "Now I'm gonna hunt you!" Georgie decided. — "Oh, no." — One little hand focused on holding up the black hat while the other mimicked a gun. "Pew pew! Get out, bad wolf! I am the cowboy here!" — Jason laughed trying to dodge the invisible bullets as he run, well, walked pretending to run, to hide behind Geetha. "Quick, help me." Jason laughed, ducking behind her as Georgie chased him, giggling the whole time. "I'm not the bad wolf, cowboy! Please, that's my brother. I'm the okay one."

[icarian-carrion]

Tisha shrugs, laughing at the absurdity right along with him. “I felt the same way when my doctor told me that the stimulants I’d been paying my classmate twenty bucks a pill for were free with my health insurance, and that I should definitely be taking them.” Whether she does or not largely depends on if she remembers to get the prescription refilled. “Everyone thinks their brain works the same as everyone else’s until they find out the hard way that it doesn’t.”

@icarian-carrion

"do you see this?" he waved the little tablet of xanax in his hand. laughing, because, well, what else was he supposed to do? it was hilarious. "do you know how much money i wasted on this shit? how much trouble i could have gotten in?" frank shook his head at himself. "it was 3 dollars. it was cheaper than a pack of cigarettes. i'm about to lose my mind, babe." frank laughed. "how come they don't have a go to a fucking doctor, you fucking dumbass ad running on the tv every ten minutes?"

[icarian-carrion]

Geetha has no explanation for what she’s feeling, she just knows that it’s all through her, that it grows keener and sharper when she feels Jason’s hand on her shoulder. A want, maybe. A whine from a version of her that she left sitting alone in a med school classroom. “I don’t think so.” She smiles up at him. “He wanted his blankie, but he had to show me that. Come on, how could he not?” She doesn’t want to pull away from him, but she also can’t resist kneeling down next to Georgie and squeezing the paws of his little hat, making the ears flap in unison, and then one after another, and then darting one hand out to tickle his stomach like she used to when her nieces were little. “That’s so cool! I think your dad needs one of those.” She shoots Jason a smile over her shoulder, cheeks pink and eyes sparkling, and it feels like she’s going to collapse and it feels like she’s never been this happy in her entire life as she is right now in this moment that feels so much like the thing she worked so hard to avoid happening.

The little boy nodded over and over again like he was listening to his options and just not registering. "I don't know." Georgie mumbled, shifting his weight back and forth between the front and back of his body, swinging, almost, on an invisible little swing while sitting on the couch. "My suitcase is this big!" He opened his arms, as wide as they went, stretching out like he could make them wider still. "Mom put stuff in the suitcase. I put stuff in the backpack. 'Cause I'm big now. I can pack." Then— "Oh." Georgie nearly jumped out of the couch, rushing forward to get his little backpack from where it was abandoned near the fireplace. "Look! Look! Look at what I have!" A little bit of struggle later, he pulled a wolf shaped beanie out of the bag. Paws hanging out the side of the wolf, hiding his ears as he put it on. When Georgie pressed one of the paws, — using the combined strength of both hands — one of the wolf's ear lifted. "Can you see it? Can you see it?" The same dimple Jason had digging into the side of his face as he smiled. — Jason came back only to feel like his heart was failing. Leaning against the doorframe between the kitchen and the living room, watching this playout like it just might be sacred. His body prompted him forward to rest a hand on her shoulder before he had the foresight to think about the action. Thumb rolling against what little skin it could find. "Are we already done with Paw Patrol?"

[icarian-carrion]

[icarian-carrion]

“Okay, really questioning your definition of lucky right now.” Tisha winces. The lines on the map seem to squirm, wriggling together like the tangled tails of a rat king, and Tisha isn’t sure if that’s what’s making her nauseous, or if the low grade whine in her brain is really getting to her. She reaches out to trace one of the lines with her finger, as if touching it might tame it. “There’s definitely a difference. We can’t shoot our way out of this.” She glances up at Rafael and smiles wryly. “A priest wouldn’t be much help either, no matter how slow he runs.” What she wouldn’t give for a temperamental vampire or a haunted house right now. “Remind me of this moment if you’re ever in Canada, Amidala. Most of our atrocities are out in the bush a few days, but I’ve got a whopper of a haunted convent for you.”

She follows him down the prescribed path, into the utility tunnel, every sound enough to send her headlamp beam skittering around the tunnel. Something doesn’t feel right. “Hold on.” Tisha pauses. She’s not looking down, or even forward. Colmilho had pointed out the drainage area on the map, but... she's looking up, at a service hatch in the ceiling. Most likely it doesn't go anywhere anymore, probably had a road paved over it before her brother was born, the rough steel rungs that had been cemented in place for a ladder are caked in rust, but it looks like it's ajar, not fully sealed. "Do you hear that? The water?" She asks. "Hey, let me get another look at the ma-"

In hindsight, she probably should have stopped touching things a while ago. As soon her fingers meet rust, the ground gives out underneath her- no, not gives out, rises? No, nothing's happened to the ground at all, she's falling up, clattering through the hatch on the ceiling floor ceiling and hitting the ground on the other side, shoulder white hot pain where it knocked the hatch open with her bodyweight, head pounding, world spinning like she just got off the orbiter at the carnival. For the second time that day week, she crumbles against the wall and wretches.

Colmilho cocked a brow at Tisha's remark. "No, it's not my first EMA." - evento mundial alterado - "An altered world event. And if you're cynical enough, there's no difference between unknowable horror and regular horror either," the delegado shrugged, not really invested in making conversation, but it was a welcome distraction from the chatter behind them. Though the question was, what was more disgusting; declarations of love in a language he didn't speak or hearing that heartwarming bullshit father and daughter were exchanging in a language ha actually did speak. "Calem-se! This isn't a fucking school trip!," he barked over his shoulder and pinched his nose. Fuck this shit. Seriously.

"Not everyone turns off their brain and throws themselves at danger. That may be your part, I've done my homework," Colmilho took out a folded piece of thick paper, almost wax-y to the touch. An underground map that looked somehow much more complex and confusing than any surface map ever could. "We've got the Anhangabaú river drainage there." He pointed at the map so quickly he was either incredibly good or just randomly pointing at things. "Instead of the service tunnel we were originally going down, we're taking this abandoned utility tunnel here. Slight detour. But perhaps you'll get lucky that way and we'll be passing the one or other walled-in body." Rafael grunted; "He's probably not even joking. During the military regime people were brought underground and imprisoned. Carandiru wasn't the worst that happened to prisoners in Sampa. Pick your favourite flavour of bad vibes. We've got them all."

[icarian-carrion]

There’s a jolt of panic in her chest, because she has absolutely no fucking clue, and she knows Jason doesn’t either, but Geetha manages to keep it out of her expression. “I don’t know yet.” She admits, laying one careful, comforting hand high on his back. “But your dad is going to take good care of you until she does. You have lots of exciting things to do here while you wait. There’s horses to meet, and barn cats. You have uncles who are going to be so excited to meet you, and aunties, and cousins, and a big brother. You’ll be so busy having adventures, the time will fly by.” Her heart feels like it might just fall out of her - all that fear she’s held with her for so long, fear of having and losing, and someone just… dropped him off without even saying when they’d be back. “Did you bring your blankie with you? I can go get it from your bag, and you can get nice and cozy while you have dinner.”

He could hear the conversation. How easy it was for her, how it would take a while for him to settle back into it. The endless useless questions that weren't so much fishing for information as they were consolidating affection. I want you to know I wanna hear everything you have to say. He remembered sitting in that living room, listening to Grayson talk about Clifford and how much he wanted a big red dog or big red horse and how he would love it so much, he would make it grow too. He tried not to remember sitting in the very same spot at the very same age watching his older brothers get in arguments he couldn't understand yet. Every part of his mind was soiled ground, he could never trust his memories, even the best ones, to not end up bittersweet. "Yes, ma'am." Jason tipped his hat at her with a smile. Setting himself on the task of making both food and washing the sheets. He put some of the toys upstairs too, while he was at it. Grayson's old bedroom. Jason would refurbish one of the unused bedrooms later and make it Georgie's, but right now, Grayson's was the only one with some decoration. — Downstairs the tv show seemed to waver in its task of keeping Georgie's attention. He turned to Geetha instead, "He's my dad." whispered like it was a secret Jason couldn't hear. "I didn't know he was my dad. I didn't have a dad before, but now I have a dad. Everyone has a dad, but I didn't. Now I do." Big blue eyes looked at her expectantly. "When's mom coming back? I want my blankie."

[icarian-carrion]

Geetha shrugs, because she doesn't really know. "It's silly, but it reminds me of this... and when I see you, I really see you upside down, but my brain knows better, it picks you up and turns you around..." Did she really just start singing? Geetha instinctively take a sip of her own drink, trying to wash the embarrassing wounds right out of her mouth.

Jason nodded, nursing the beer in his hands. "My kid thinks I'm some superhero, James thinks I'm some misguided kid, Jack thinks I'm some self sacrificing asshole. I—" He shook his head. His attention on the way the evening looked settling on the ranch. Skies littered with stars in every direction. His heart hurt every time he stopped to look at it. God. To think people could leave this place. His gaze shifted to hers. Holding eye contact as he said, "Are you lookin' at me? When you look my way, are you really lookin' at me?"

[icarian-carrion]

Geetha knows she feels his absence too strongly for what it is, far too deep for a friend going into the next room over, taking the comfort of a hand held and a comfortable silence with him. It doesn’t make her feel it any less keenly. She wants to follow him, wants to go into the kitchen after him like she’s caught in orbit, but she’s here as much for Georgie as for him, so she just tucks the blanket around him a little tighter and switches on again, big luminous smile and a hand on her chin while she asks questions about what they’re watching - has he seen this one before? What does he like about it? It occurs to her after a second that she does have a good reason to grab Jason while he’s up, so she wiggles out from under the blanket and walks over to the doorway, still in view of Georgie, just in case- “Don’t forget to throw those new sheets in the wash. I don’t know how much more he’s got in the tank, you know how they are at this age, begging to stay up one second and then out like a light.”

He felt her thumb on his palm, the flips his heart decided to try and the world shook a little, moving slowly off its axis. Jason tried to imagine this moment with anyone else. Flipping through every one of his many exes to try and find one he might have ended up on this situation with. He had dated a lot of people when Grayson was a kid too, he had never invited them over when he was around. — Yet there he was: him, Geetha and this tiny little kid who kept saying "Look, look." To point at the tv Jason was already looking at. — He almost could't make an actual move anymore, really. Knew somehow that this ended with him breaking her heart and he couldn't bare the thought of it. — "Can I watch another one? Please." — It took Jason a second to blink back into focus and realize one episode had ended and another would start in a few seconds, "Yeah, kid." He ran a heavy hand on the kid's hair, messing it up for no real reason. "Just today you get a few episodes, 'lright?" Georgie nodded. The juice package had been abandoned on the couch, some of it left inside still, dripping onto his couch. Jason shook his head. "Imma..." He had to clear his throat. "Imma see if I can get some real food for the three of us." Gathering the abandoned box as he left to the kitchen.

[icarian-carrion]

Geetha reaches over to squeeze his hand and mouths you’re welcome, regretting it as soon as her fingers are laced with his. His hand is bigger than hers, rough at the heel and the knobs of his knuckles, and she rubs her thumb in the centre of his palm without thinking about it. Georgie is focused entirely on the tv in front of them, and just him being between them makes her heart ache. This is what he wanted. Why he walked away. He never said it, but he didn’t have to. It almost feels like she could do it, in the comfort of Jason’s living room, with this sweet redheaded boy between them. Geetha wonders if their son would have looked like this, if she could have gotten past the fear, if she had been what he wanted. Sean had red hair too. She feels a prickling under her eyelids and rests her head on the back of the couch, almost on Jason’s hand, and closes her eyes so nothing slips out.

"What?" Jason feigned offense, "I like Cocomelon and I'm not a baby." By which he meant, of course, "I searched for kids shows just now." letting a small laugh roll off his lips as he smiled at her. His heart, betrayer that it was, kept doing strange flips every chance it got. Screaming in its stone cage about this exact sort of domestic moment that he never really had a chance to experience before. — "Cocomelon is for babies." was what Georgie explained, struggling to open his juice packet. "Paw Patrol and Bluey is for big kids like me." — Jason took the small package from his hands, "Got it." Getting it open for him before handing it back. "If you two say so. Paw patrol it is." Some random episode started on the tv. The kid between him and Geetha leaned forward, the entirety of his focus stolen by the uniformed dogs. Jason's gaze flickered to Geetha. Asking for something he didn't know how to name. He knew better, really, than to get attached in anyway that mattered. He knew better than to be sitting on the couch watching tv with her and his kid. He knew better. And still— "Thanks." was what he mumbled to her, sounding like he was saying something else entirely. — Putting an arm on top of the couch, like she might just do the same on her end and they might end up holding hands or something, silly as that might seem.

[icarian-carrion]

Daevi frowns, like she’s doing the math in her head, and then- “Oh my god. Grayson, Hunter, Hailey, Icarus, Iris… oh my god.” She pokes him in the chest, as much payback as anything else. “I am not naming a child Ianthe or Ignatius. We can do Irene, or… Ian. And then we’ll have to get a baby name book or something, because that’s all I can think of.” She can see Shanthi’s raised eyebrows already. “Well, at least when James and Tisha finally admit what we already know, I’ll already know what initial to get embroidered on the baby stuff. And I thought my family was close.”

"Well, no, actually, I was just hoping you would overlook the rest of your life if I was cute enough. Do you think it's working? Be honest: 1 to 10, how close am I?" He laughed, shaking his head. Hand moving up and down her back slowly. "Yeah, baby, I would have a bunch actually. Whole house of kids yelling around the room. Waking me up at 3am because of skibiddi-whatever-the-fuck. That's a dream life, actually." He chuckled. "Just, hm, weird request, you think we could name them something starting with I?" Jack knew it was dumb, yes, he knew it was silly, and he'd named two kids something starting with I already and neither of them particularly loved it. Except they weren't Iris and Icarus, they were Ris and Rus, when Iris was a perfectly normal name. And he couldn't stop thinking about how he'd changed John to Jack every time his daughter introduced herself. "It's just, hm, it's a thing, me and the boys did, do. It's sorta silly, but I really like it, it's—" He ran a hand through the back of his head. "It's sort of a cute naming tradition we came up with."