Who ⚔ Yael & assorted nerds What ⚔ A dungeon run and other things When ⚔ After the party Where ⚔ Errywhere Content Warnings ⚔ Men with their tits out? Alcohol??? No correlation there surprisingly. nsfw i'm sorry mom
Hector's frown deepens as Yael laughs, as good-natured as it might intended to be. It's been a while since he had a one-on-one with Yael like this, and it twists him up inside to see one person he cares about laughing in the face of someone else he cares about.
(Shouldn't Yael know by now that he'd bottom for anyone??) ]
He's more "unstable" than usual because he's changing, Yael. He's a Phase. [ He thinks of Barrett and Mithrun and Michel and Owen and the look on his face changes to that of a man who has been fighting for too long but knows he can't afford to stop. ] And I don't know what to do.
[Right, right. He should mind his mouth around one of the few people who care about Fandaniel. There was no love lost between Yael and that man, but that doesn't mean he's comfortable speaking down to him to someone like Hector, who...
...Worries about him? Clearly. Loves him? Maybe. The latter leaves an uncomfortable knot in Yael's throat, but he ignores it. He has to ignore it. He's lost all right to feel that way.
His expression flattens, all trace of emotion effortlessly pushed aside. Hector has his own feelings to worry about. He doesn't need to balance Yael's on top of them.]
But you do. You know what your options are: fight him and kill him, potentially, or don't. If you don't, the bastard might croak anyway and you won't be around to say goodbye.
[ Hector quickly leans forward on his legs, propping his elbows up on his knees and folds his hands, tightly, over his mouth. He stares hard at the ground, trying to will away the options he's been presented for something that he likes better.
He feels sick. ]
...I don't want any of that. He keeps saying that the only way this ends is that he dies and I—I refuse to believe that.
[ His chest boils, with no outlet. Poor Yael, left to deal with Hector as he stews. ]
[Yael's eyes stay trained on the book he's hauled into his lap, Hector weighing his options — rather, option — in the periphery of his vision. The spine cracks, dog-eared pages turning under finger and thumb.]
Refuse all you want. [You know that won't change anything.] But if you're hell bent on saving the guy, you better make damn sure he knows it.
[Yael, for as taciturn and logical as he errs, can't ignore the idealist deep inside that wants Hector to win. To save that sorry bastard. His sigh is a quiet thing, lost between the pages of the book he's far too distracted to read.]
You care about each other, right? Maybe he'll listen.
[ There's that sickening frustration again, the kind he gets whenever Fidchell keeps going on and on about fate. ]
His—his "programming" or whatever means he never listens to me. He'll be sweet on me and then in the same breath tell me he's going to die. And he doesn't—get how much that hurts.
[ And it just all comes out, a pot left to simmer for too long and boiling over. Why can't they save him, like Misteaks and Mithrun and Winter and Owen? Why does Fandaniel have to be different? ]
[Fandaniel told Hector as much, surely? Yael hasn't forgotten the way that man threatened to lay the blame at Yael's feet after condemning himself to death. It's the reason why he'll never give that man the time of day again, but what's relevant to Hector is the fact that death has, seemingly, been his fate for a long time.
There's no point in trying to distract himself with his book. Yael snaps it closed, setting it beside him on the hospital bed.]
People like that don't think about how much it hurts people when they talk about offing themselves. When they're that far gone, they can't.
[All Fandaniel can think about is himself, and that's why:]
You had no control over him then and you don't now. You're going to be there for him regardless of the outcome, so make peace with that.
[ It's all been said outright to Hector at this point. But it's been subtle enough, passive enough that he elected to ignore it. But to hear it so plainly put clicks into place uncomfortably in the depths of Hector's gut, and he hates it. His eyes reflexively snap to the floor, and his whole body tenses. His knuckles whiten just outside of his vision. He can't breathe.
Every life I save is a fraction of forgiveness for what I did. Words he once wrote rolls around in the voids in his mind, untethered from their context. Maybe he doesn't know what he did anymore, but that he wants to make sure everyone gets out of here alive, no matter what, still stays strong with him. ]
No.
[ His voice comes out a little louder than he intends, but who cares. It only brings him more conviction, forward momentum. He drops his hands and sits up straight in his chair, gaze still fixed dead ahead of him. ]
I saved Owen. I can save Fandaniel.
[ Who cares what other people tell him. He can change Fandaniel's fate, and he's going to show all of them.
He abruptly stands from his chair, and it clatters in the sudden movement. He casts a glance over his shoulder at Yael, but he doesn't let it linger there long enough to actually read his expression. ]
Glad to see you're doing okay. Sorry for the short visit, but I've got things to do.
[This conversation went just as Yael expected it to. He has no reason to be angry, given that, but still... wouldn't it be nice if Hector listened to him for once? Wouldn't it be nice if he pulled his head out of his stubborn old ass?
If wishes were fishes, Yael would never go hungry. He acknowledges Hector's decision with a nod, one he likely didn't see with how briefly he'd turned back to catch his eye.
That's fine. There's only one last thing Yael has to say to the man as he turns to stride toward his next foolish venture.]
Goodbye.
[One never knows when their last chance to say goodbye might be.]
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no subject
Hector's frown deepens as Yael laughs, as good-natured as it might intended to be. It's been a while since he had a one-on-one with Yael like this, and it twists him up inside to see one person he cares about laughing in the face of someone else he cares about.
(Shouldn't Yael know by now that he'd bottom for anyone??) ]
He's more "unstable" than usual because he's changing, Yael. He's a Phase. [ He thinks of Barrett and Mithrun and Michel and Owen and the look on his face changes to that of a man who has been fighting for too long but knows he can't afford to stop. ] And I don't know what to do.
no subject
...Worries about him? Clearly. Loves him? Maybe. The latter leaves an uncomfortable knot in Yael's throat, but he ignores it. He has to ignore it. He's lost all right to feel that way.
His expression flattens, all trace of emotion effortlessly pushed aside. Hector has his own feelings to worry about. He doesn't need to balance Yael's on top of them.]
But you do. You know what your options are: fight him and kill him, potentially, or don't. If you don't, the bastard might croak anyway and you won't be around to say goodbye.
no subject
He feels sick. ]
...I don't want any of that. He keeps saying that the only way this ends is that he dies and I—I refuse to believe that.
[ His chest boils, with no outlet. Poor Yael, left to deal with Hector as he stews. ]
I want to save him.
no subject
Refuse all you want. [You know that won't change anything.] But if you're hell bent on saving the guy, you better make damn sure he knows it.
[Yael, for as taciturn and logical as he errs, can't ignore the idealist deep inside that wants Hector to win. To save that sorry bastard. His sigh is a quiet thing, lost between the pages of the book he's far too distracted to read.]
You care about each other, right? Maybe he'll listen.
[Maybe his words will be enough.]
no subject
[ There's that sickening frustration again, the kind he gets whenever Fidchell keeps going on and on about fate. ]
His—his "programming" or whatever means he never listens to me. He'll be sweet on me and then in the same breath tell me he's going to die. And he doesn't—get how much that hurts.
[ And it just all comes out, a pot left to simmer for too long and boiling over. Why can't they save him, like Misteaks and Mithrun and Winter and Owen? Why does Fandaniel have to be different? ]
no subject
[Fandaniel told Hector as much, surely? Yael hasn't forgotten the way that man threatened to lay the blame at Yael's feet after condemning himself to death. It's the reason why he'll never give that man the time of day again, but what's relevant to Hector is the fact that death has, seemingly, been his fate for a long time.
There's no point in trying to distract himself with his book. Yael snaps it closed, setting it beside him on the hospital bed.]
People like that don't think about how much it hurts people when they talk about offing themselves. When they're that far gone, they can't.
[All Fandaniel can think about is himself, and that's why:]
You had no control over him then and you don't now. You're going to be there for him regardless of the outcome, so make peace with that.
[That's all anyone can do.]
no subject
Every life I save is a fraction of forgiveness for what I did. Words he once wrote rolls around in the voids in his mind, untethered from their context. Maybe he doesn't know what he did anymore, but that he wants to make sure everyone gets out of here alive, no matter what, still stays strong with him. ]
No.
[ His voice comes out a little louder than he intends, but who cares. It only brings him more conviction, forward momentum. He drops his hands and sits up straight in his chair, gaze still fixed dead ahead of him. ]
I saved Owen. I can save Fandaniel.
[ Who cares what other people tell him. He can change Fandaniel's fate, and he's going to show all of them.
He abruptly stands from his chair, and it clatters in the sudden movement. He casts a glance over his shoulder at Yael, but he doesn't let it linger there long enough to actually read his expression. ]
Glad to see you're doing okay. Sorry for the short visit, but I've got things to do.
[ And he turns for the door... ]
no subject
If wishes were fishes, Yael would never go hungry. He acknowledges Hector's decision with a nod, one he likely didn't see with how briefly he'd turned back to catch his eye.
That's fine. There's only one last thing Yael has to say to the man as he turns to stride toward his next foolish venture.]
Goodbye.
[One never knows when their last chance to say goodbye might be.]