[ Two long weeks came and went, stretching out, stretching the cord they'd thoughtlessly tethered to each other more and more taut.
Eventually, something must give. Or it snaps. The only two options, and wiser to allow it to snap -- but McGillis feels his resolve weaken each time he tries to commit to that option. Two weeks since they'd last spoken, since a night spent warming over, since that night spent sharing a room. The uneasy continuation of a truce that evolves in strange ways.
The memory of a thumbprint dragging against thin skin. The same spot of flesh still tingles when he thinks on it.
A new world on the horizon, status of the potential for danger unknown. He must message Gaelio.
[ Two weeks. If at all bearable, through the convenience of distraction. A considerable headcold that laid him out for a few days. A novel, consuming, and wholly exhausting application of his power (and ... frivolous). Past that week, assisting in clean-up and occupied with Julieta. The possible snap of that cord, the charged build of the air when their paths crossed within the mansion; kept barely at bay by those.
Superficial occupations for the mind, sleights of hand that could not fully or truly take his mind from where it must go. As if his mind ever strayed far, even before that night. An inextricable core, emanating and drawing.
Unsustainable.
A new world. Less known. Less certain. Less resolved.
More and more to haunt his dreams.
Communication needed, but he's surprised to feel the pleasant poke from McGillis. McGillis, reaching out.
Brittle caution restricts him to a response of equivalence.
Truce, because must kill and whatever of Fate, might no longer be able.
Warmth pervasive beneath the sheets and a weight draped over his side. ]
»Yeah.«
[ What did it change, after all, but that they no longer pinned resolution on developments external to them, revelations of Qri or their world or otherwise?
If, however, you chose to seize it...
What does McGillis choose with this, when he would do everything the same? ]
[ As Gaelio had been knocked from resolve, so had McGillis. Cobwebs shaken from ideas as old as them.
He's not sure how to process whatever happened between them, but he does know this: he can't afford to fail. If change is happening, if change leads back to fate and the fate of the world known to them ties in, he can't afford to look away.
Used to be that he couldn't afford to look. Used to be, or never was?
Even the method of communication, the method of meeting, is a decision he wrestles with. ]
»...«
[ Indecision that can be felt, heavy between their link, and so he hurries up to decide. ]
[ Her feelings about this telepathy would have to be set aside for now. This was a time it really would be useful to have for lack of any other means of communication. It would be too much for her to maintain two telepathic conversations at once. She'd only barely mastered the technique. A simple text report would do. If he wanted to reply, she would get back to him when she could.
I've encountered McGillis Fareed in the forest. He's taken the form of a wolf and we are discussing the truce you mentioned. I'll tell you about it at dinner.
[ Receiving this message throws Gaelio. Presently seeing to his assigned duty of fishing, he nearly drops the rod, head swiveling back toward the trees. As though Julieta and the wolf would conveniently be near.
Even with that evening in the rain and the room, with the uprooting and shredding of his resolve, with friend hanging heavy between them, Gaelio cannot be confident of McGillis's mind. Though he believes the man would act only to preserve truce, and thus must be wolf out of caution (not knowing how rash Julieta might be), to approach in that way could be read hostile.
For Julieta, devoted to an enemy of McGillis's who had no reason to waver, it might be enough.
The message reads more prudent, but Gaelio cannot be at ease. She's only just begun practice with her power. It should not come to that, and he would not demean her by advising that she take care, but... ]
I hope for a boring story. If you'd like to see me sooner, say the word.
[Yuna has, on at least one occasion since their arrival in Shehui, come across Gaelio hard at work on security detail at the Anmung Tower, which is how she knows now to come stop by so she can drop off her daily Harvest Moon gift goddamn it why won't you be friends with her]
Gaelio! Hiii! [She waves one hand over her head as she approaches, and kind of...shuffle-jogs over?? Normally she'd be running but she has a cardboard cup carrier with two hot beverages in it balanced in one hand with a plastic bag hanging on that same arm, so she has to be careful despite her excitement!!] You aren't too busy over here, are you?
[ Having seen Yuna on her way to and from school, Gaelio at first notes she's a little later in crossing his path today. With so little to actually guard, crime ostensibly nonexistent, he's become more aware of minute details. Patterns in movement. Possible utility beyond that, too, especially when it came to the natives.
Arms crossed over his chest, he lifts one in greeting, next observing her careful walk. It's easy to guess that she tempers her typical speed out of consideration for what she carries.
Which bodes ill, really. A better thing if she'd forgotten her resolve of their first day. If she'd been the type of girl to try to run despite the beverages, she might have been the type to lose patience with that, as well. ]
Good morning, Yuna. Today's slow, too.
[ Sometimes, he wishes the doors weren't automatic, so he could at least hold one.
But people watching in a city like Shuhei isn't so bad.
Anyway, he's not going to ask about the drinks or bag, even if he's curious. He won't encourage her. ]
[She doesn't need encouragement. She's suitably obnoxious on her own, which is why, all bright eyes and sparkling smiles, she nods and hums as she shifts her belongings between her arms.]
Oh, good! I didn't wanna get in the way of your job. I found the best bakery, though— [With this, she reaches into the bag while delicately balancing her drink tray still, and retrieves a second smaller bag. There's a croissant in it, but Gaelio will have to take it from her as she holds it out and open it up before he finds out.]
It's right on the way so I thought I'd get you something, too! [It's taken her a few days to find any sort of routine, to settle back into going to school, to being in the city, to feel like she's really scrubbed off the dirt and dust enough to indulge in things like croissants. If anything, she's embarrassed that it's taken her any time at all to consider finding somewhere she can pick up anything extra for the not-friend she sees on her way to school and back every day.] One of these is yours, too. [She shifts the drink tray, oh-so-careful.] I'm not really supposed to have coffee, so I wasn't sure what to get. I hope it's okay like it is!
[ Then, active discouragement ought to have been his route. Though he would not have judged her "suitably obnoxious."
In fact, with each shift so uneventful, he's dangerously close to welcoming her presence. Rather than in the way, she distracts the winding out of his mind, keeps him tethered closer to the present where his eyes have little trouble keeping track of the motion around them.
If focused more, just now, on that second bag. He recognizes the symbol on it, and the lettering. Recent developments keep his lips from frowning as they might once have, but he's thrown enough to take the bag without protest. Besides, to leave her holding it out while managing all the rest would be more than cold.
Which doesn't mean he wasn't tempted. ]
You... got me something.
[ Repeated, a bit stupidly, as he tugs open the bag. Warm, flakey, a buttery and terrific scent. Now he frowns, but it's puzzled, mild, and entirely at the pasty. ]
And coffee. Yuna --
[ A reprimand on the tip of his tongue, weary and weighing her name, but the tenor abruptly shifts caught by the second drink. Still disapproving, but for a different reason. ]
[ It doesn't take long for McGillis to notify Gaelio. Better sooner than later.
Shortly after he finishes his conversation with the member of Tekkadan, he brings up a telepathic link with his signet. His tone is similar to the message he had received the prior month about Julieta; short, to the point, uncertain. ]
[ A second, verbal confirmation long after the morning's exchange. It does not surprise, neither that McGillis reaches again, nor the content, because of the unofficial precedent he'd established a few weeks before.
And because he's himself just encountered the subject. ]
»Yeah.«
[ How to be anything but uncertain? With each taut telepathic communication, he improves in increments, and so it does not bleed through. Yet, though they stepped tentative past the borders of fate, choosing together a path unpaved, not a path at all, wildnerness to cut through -- a choice that changed nothing and everything, sinking stones of what could not be believed, but pressing and opening despite it -- it is impossible not to wonder if Fate speaks through this.
Although they'd come to terms with more than a truce, they've not come that much closer to resolving their differences. Gaelio's response is a reminder of that, as McGillis had expected from this conversation. ]
»Not particularly.«
[ Empty, controlled -- or not. Mika represents the point at which their paths had diverged for certain, the beginning of McGillis allowing his aspirations to become reality. Once he'd encountered Tekkadan, once he'd decided on wanting Tekkadan to be part of that goal...
As they're both aware, that encounter also represents the beginning of the end of Gaelio and McGillis.
But he attempts a show of marked indifference, all the same. He is little more than an ally, after all, and his allyship with Tekkadan has always been -- conditional. ]
»In this environment, doubt continues to reign supreme.«
[ They cannot be anything but aware, a renewed line of tension between them, thrumming with it.
Mars may have been the land where they began, but if McGillis's betrayals had begun with a person, that person must be he who had smashed through after him, with whom, Gaelio had learned, McGillis had early fought beside. Mikazuki Augus.
The boy McGillis had chosen for his dream, for the Fate he would actualize, while disposing of his so-called friend.
Who better to represent their ending?
In contrast, though it might superficially equalize, Julieta had not been his choice, but a byproduct of Rustal Elion. A disturbance to their understanding of their situation, though a swiftly pretextual understanding.
If he closes his eyes, he more than remembers the taste of him. The smell of sea salt, the breeze brisk against his cheek, fingertips against his jaw and neck. It might be his magic that augments it; it might be that less than twenty-four hours have passed. He closes his eyes.
If I think of it, if it crosses my path again, I'll rest on my blade.
Even if he could believe him, the truth could yet be more duplicitous, if unintentionally. McGillis, unable to perceive it as a betrayal, as they had never been allies.
Only enemies.
How insipid that such a long-suspected thing, confirmed so readily their first day here, continues to sting.
Gaelio does not answer for longer than he knows, caught by memories that muddle and bleed and linger on his tongue. ]
»Perhaps you've yet to think of how to use him here. I'm sure you will, with time.«
[ Unfair, and he knows it. Because he should be permitted that, he shouldn't care, and doesn't care, but a weight shifts in his chest, discomfort in it, unable to settle. He shouldn't, doesn't, but he doesn't add what he would, Against me. More oozing than radiating, a crawling up his throat, compelling him to ask what would otherwise keep prominent and aching in the backdrop of this. ]
»Has it changed anything for you?«
[ It almost rushes, as though to swallow what he does not, does not, does not regret. In that rush, less control, and so in that rush, traces of emotion. Whatever describes the snap of muscles anticipating a blow, tight and cringing. Apprehension -- or fear. ]
[Outside his door, Gaelio will find a small parcel addressed to him. Inside is a hand-written little book on pods and flight units as a bonus, with accurate diagrams so the information is easily accessible to him beyond mental transmission. Alongside this is a small device that easily fits in one's palm or pocket.
A small note included with it reads: Dress Module: prevents damage to clothing. Effective under all known conditions. Utility gifter, ahoy]
[ Happy Sunsu! Gaelio will find a poorly wrapped gift in black wrapping paper outside his door. There's a simple sleek black fishing rod along with a note in neat, royal calligraphy that reads:
[Gaelio will find delivered to him a box of pain killers. Tylenol #4 strength. He also will get a movie player with The Godfather and The Usual Suspects on it. It's signed in orange pen, "Themes of betrayal and loyalty: discuss. --DS"]
[ there's a knock on your door, gaelio! though when he opens it to answer, there won't be any person in sight - instead, there's a cutely-wrapped package on the ground. the paper itself is silver, and it's topped with a pink bow. inside is a homemade muffler in a deep plum colour, knitted with care and precision.
there's also a note written in in small, dainty handwriting. ]
merry chr happy sunsu! i made this myself - i thought it would match your hair. i hope you like it! ♡
- your secret santa /ᐠ .ᆺ. ᐟ\ﾉ
[ little does he know, ruby will be watching from around the corner! she's using her invisibility magic to stay out of sight, hoping that it's well-recieved... ]
[ The other packages, whether for his roommates or surprisingly for himself, had all been left at the door, unannounced. Thus, with the knock, he expects a person, and is puzzled upon opening the door, before noticing the package.
The silver does draw his eye, and the bow. Wrapped as though by hand, and as he stoops to pick it up, malleable and crinkling, something soft within.
Now, normally, one wouldn't stand in the hallway and open a package. The natural thing to do would be to retreat inside, shutting the door, and open it then. However, while his improved observation might not be able to help him with invisibility, the fact of the knock gives him a sense.
So, door open, casting a last glance along the hall, Gaelio unwraps with care, avoiding tearing the paper.
Sure enough, a slight, slight smile as he tugs loose the knitting, eyebrows lifting by increments. Slight, slight, the incline on reading the note. ]
Very much, thank you.
[ He likes it. And announcing that to the empty hallway might give him an air of madness, but it's hardly the biggest symptom of that. ]
sunsu delivery! (going to assume they know each other's names by now LMAO)
[There's a small package outside Gaelio's doorway wrapped in baby blue paper with small flower designs on them. Inside, he will find a lined notebook with rabbits and music notes in the margins as well as a pen set in different colours. There's a note that reads:
To Gaelio,
Happy Sunsu!! Hopefully these will be useful for you.]
[ Unlike the last time she had such a discussion with McGillis, Julieta doesn't feel the need to warn him while it's still in progress. And she isn't suffering from an injury like when she confronted Mikazuki. It all went surprisingly well this time. ]
Gaelio, I thought you should know Orga Itsuka is back in the apartment now. We talked it over and decided he can stay. I don't see it being a problem.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Eventually, something must give. Or it snaps. The only two options, and wiser to allow it to snap -- but McGillis feels his resolve weaken each time he tries to commit to that option. Two weeks since they'd last spoken, since a night spent warming over, since that night spent sharing a room. The uneasy continuation of a truce that evolves in strange ways.
The memory of a thumbprint dragging against thin skin. The same spot of flesh still tingles when he thinks on it.
A new world on the horizon, status of the potential for danger unknown. He must message Gaelio.
whoa
]my love
i've hungered for
»Gaelio.«
[ startin with a lil poke ]
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Superficial occupations for the mind, sleights of hand that could not fully or truly take his mind from where it must go. As if his mind ever strayed far, even before that night. An inextricable core, emanating and drawing.
Unsustainable.
A new world. Less known. Less certain. Less resolved.
More and more to haunt his dreams.
Communication needed, but he's surprised to feel the pleasant poke from McGillis. McGillis, reaching out.
Brittle caution restricts him to a response of equivalence.
my darling
]your touch
»McGillis.«
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Now how to word whatever it is he wants to say... ]
»It's been some time. We should discuss the status of our truce before our coven moves into the new world.«
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Truce, because must kill and whatever of Fate, might no longer be able.
Warmth pervasive beneath the sheets and a weight draped over his side. ]
»Yeah.«
[ What did it change, after all, but that they no longer pinned resolution on developments external to them, revelations of Qri or their world or otherwise?
If, however, you chose to seize it...
What does McGillis choose with this, when he would do everything the same? ]
»Like this?«
[ Or in person. ]
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He's not sure how to process whatever happened between them, but he does know this: he can't afford to fail. If change is happening, if change leads back to fate and the fate of the world known to them ties in, he can't afford to look away.
Used to be that he couldn't afford to look. Used to be, or never was?
Even the method of communication, the method of meeting, is a decision he wrestles with. ]
»...«
[ Indecision that can be felt, heavy between their link, and so he hurries up to decide. ]
»In person. I'll go to you.«
[ the unspoken: coordinates pls ]
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I've encountered McGillis Fareed in the forest. He's taken the form of a wolf and we are discussing the truce you mentioned. I'll tell you about it at dinner.
no subject
Even with that evening in the rain and the room, with the uprooting and shredding of his resolve, with friend hanging heavy between them, Gaelio cannot be confident of McGillis's mind. Though he believes the man would act only to preserve truce, and thus must be wolf out of caution (not knowing how rash Julieta might be), to approach in that way could be read hostile.
For Julieta, devoted to an enemy of McGillis's who had no reason to waver, it might be enough.
The message reads more prudent, but Gaelio cannot be at ease. She's only just begun practice with her power. It should not come to that, and he would not demean her by advising that she take care, but... ]
I hope for a boring story. If you'd like to see me sooner, say the word.
[ That is, if she has need, he'll hasten to her.
He knows roughly where she'd set up. ]
day 144
Gaelio! Hiii! [She waves one hand over her head as she approaches, and kind of...shuffle-jogs over?? Normally she'd be running but she has a cardboard cup carrier with two hot beverages in it balanced in one hand with a plastic bag hanging on that same arm, so she has to be careful despite her excitement!!] You aren't too busy over here, are you?
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Arms crossed over his chest, he lifts one in greeting, next observing her careful walk. It's easy to guess that she tempers her typical speed out of consideration for what she carries.
Which bodes ill, really. A better thing if she'd forgotten her resolve of their first day. If she'd been the type of girl to try to run despite the beverages, she might have been the type to lose patience with that, as well. ]
Good morning, Yuna. Today's slow, too.
[ Sometimes, he wishes the doors weren't automatic, so he could at least hold one.
But people watching in a city like Shuhei isn't so bad.
Anyway, he's not going to ask about the drinks or bag, even if he's curious. He won't encourage her. ]
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Oh, good! I didn't wanna get in the way of your job. I found the best bakery, though— [With this, she reaches into the bag while delicately balancing her drink tray still, and retrieves a second smaller bag. There's a croissant in it, but Gaelio will have to take it from her as she holds it out and open it up before he finds out.]
It's right on the way so I thought I'd get you something, too! [It's taken her a few days to find any sort of routine, to settle back into going to school, to being in the city, to feel like she's really scrubbed off the dirt and dust enough to indulge in things like croissants. If anything, she's embarrassed that it's taken her any time at all to consider finding somewhere she can pick up anything extra for the not-friend she sees on her way to school and back every day.] One of these is yours, too. [She shifts the drink tray, oh-so-careful.] I'm not really supposed to have coffee, so I wasn't sure what to get. I hope it's okay like it is!
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In fact, with each shift so uneventful, he's dangerously close to welcoming her presence. Rather than in the way, she distracts the winding out of his mind, keeps him tethered closer to the present where his eyes have little trouble keeping track of the motion around them.
If focused more, just now, on that second bag. He recognizes the symbol on it, and the lettering. Recent developments keep his lips from frowning as they might once have, but he's thrown enough to take the bag without protest. Besides, to leave her holding it out while managing all the rest would be more than cold.
Which doesn't mean he wasn't tempted. ]
You... got me something.
[ Repeated, a bit stupidly, as he tugs open the bag. Warm, flakey, a buttery and terrific scent. Now he frowns, but it's puzzled, mild, and entirely at the pasty. ]
And coffee. Yuna --
[ A reprimand on the tip of his tongue, weary and weighing her name, but the tenor abruptly shifts caught by the second drink. Still disapproving, but for a different reason. ]
-- did you get yourself coffee?
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Shortly after he finishes his conversation with the member of Tekkadan, he brings up a telepathic link with his signet. His tone is similar to the message he had received the prior month about Julieta; short, to the point, uncertain. ]
»Mikazuki Augus has arrived.«
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And because he's himself just encountered the subject. ]
»Yeah.«
[ How to be anything but uncertain? With each taut telepathic communication, he improves in increments, and so it does not bleed through. Yet, though they stepped tentative past the borders of fate, choosing together a path unpaved, not a path at all, wildnerness to cut through -- a choice that changed nothing and everything, sinking stones of what could not be believed, but pressing and opening despite it -- it is impossible not to wonder if Fate speaks through this.
If it would change for McGillis. For them. ]
»You must be pleased to be joined by your ally.«
[ Empty, controlled.
Or not. ]
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Although they'd come to terms with more than a truce, they've not come that much closer to resolving their differences. Gaelio's response is a reminder of that, as McGillis had expected from this conversation. ]
»Not particularly.«
[ Empty, controlled -- or not. Mika represents the point at which their paths had diverged for certain, the beginning of McGillis allowing his aspirations to become reality. Once he'd encountered Tekkadan, once he'd decided on wanting Tekkadan to be part of that goal...
As they're both aware, that encounter also represents the beginning of the end of Gaelio and McGillis.
But he attempts a show of marked indifference, all the same. He is little more than an ally, after all, and his allyship with Tekkadan has always been -- conditional. ]
»In this environment, doubt continues to reign supreme.«
no subject
Mars may have been the land where they began, but if McGillis's betrayals had begun with a person, that person must be he who had smashed through after him, with whom, Gaelio had learned, McGillis had early fought beside. Mikazuki Augus.
The boy McGillis had chosen for his dream, for the Fate he would actualize, while disposing of his so-called friend.
Who better to represent their ending?
In contrast, though it might superficially equalize, Julieta had not been his choice, but a byproduct of Rustal Elion. A disturbance to their understanding of their situation, though a swiftly pretextual understanding.
If he closes his eyes, he more than remembers the taste of him. The smell of sea salt, the breeze brisk against his cheek, fingertips against his jaw and neck. It might be his magic that augments it; it might be that less than twenty-four hours have passed. He closes his eyes.
If I think of it, if it crosses my path again, I'll rest on my blade.
Even if he could believe him, the truth could yet be more duplicitous, if unintentionally. McGillis, unable to perceive it as a betrayal, as they had never been allies.
Only enemies.
How insipid that such a long-suspected thing, confirmed so readily their first day here, continues to sting.
Gaelio does not answer for longer than he knows, caught by memories that muddle and bleed and linger on his tongue. ]
»Perhaps you've yet to think of how to use him here. I'm sure you will, with time.«
[ Unfair, and he knows it. Because he should be permitted that, he shouldn't care, and doesn't care, but a weight shifts in his chest, discomfort in it, unable to settle. He shouldn't, doesn't, but he doesn't add what he would, Against me. More oozing than radiating, a crawling up his throat, compelling him to ask what would otherwise keep prominent and aching in the backdrop of this. ]
»Has it changed anything for you?«
[ It almost rushes, as though to swallow what he does not, does not, does not regret. In that rush, less control, and so in that rush, traces of emotion. Whatever describes the snap of muscles anticipating a blow, tight and cringing. Apprehension -- or fear. ]
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sunsu
A small note included with it reads: Dress Module: prevents damage to clothing. Effective under all known conditions. Utility gifter, ahoy]
Mog Mail Delivery!
[ Happy Sunsu! Gaelio will find a poorly wrapped gift in black wrapping paper outside his door. There's a simple sleek black fishing rod along with a note in neat, royal calligraphy that reads:
Better than fishing with shoe laces.
-Noctis "Ray Jack" ]
Sunsu
delivery(?)
there's also a note written in in small, dainty handwriting. ]
merry chrhappy sunsu! i made this myself - i thought it would match your hair. i hope you like it! ♡- your secret santa /ᐠ .ᆺ. ᐟ\ﾉ
[ little does he know, ruby will be watching from around the corner! she's using her invisibility magic to stay out of sight, hoping that it's well-recieved... ]
this is... so cute...
The silver does draw his eye, and the bow. Wrapped as though by hand, and as he stoops to pick it up, malleable and crinkling, something soft within.
Now, normally, one wouldn't stand in the hallway and open a package. The natural thing to do would be to retreat inside, shutting the door, and open it then. However, while his improved observation might not be able to help him with invisibility, the fact of the knock gives him a sense.
So, door open, casting a last glance along the hall, Gaelio unwraps with care, avoiding tearing the paper.
Sure enough, a slight, slight smile as he tugs loose the knitting, eyebrows lifting by increments. Slight, slight, the incline on reading the note. ]
Very much, thank you.
[ He likes it. And announcing that to the empty hallway might give him an air of madness, but it's hardly the biggest symptom of that. ]
sunsu delivery! (going to assume they know each other's names by now LMAO)
To Gaelio,
Happy Sunsu!! Hopefully these will be useful for you.]
From Nito Nazuna.]
backdated to ... idk
[ well... she did remove it. details. ]
»I'm bringing her to Genette.«
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[ Only, swiftly comprehensible. The old bile in his throat, gutteral disgust, horror. No longer his, but remembered.
Movement, on his feet. ]
»Where is Genette? Where are you?«
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Likely he reached his destination and got a little caught up in the transfer. Sorry for the added frustration babe. ]
»Everything's alright now. We're at the apartment building.«
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Gaelio, I thought you should know Orga Itsuka is back in the apartment now. We talked it over and decided he can stay. I don't see it being a problem.