meadowlarklogs

Your magic bro. Merlin the bear.

[ He's enjoying this too much, okay, sorry, he'll just say names. ]

Nathan with the good hair.

[ Not that the last one would be enough on its own, is there a Nathan with bad hair? Not that he's met yet. But anyway, the magic part will probably do it. ]

He was cruising on my turf to win you over and steal your couch. Also, maybe my secret recipe.

[She laughs at that. She totally doubts Nathan was here to "win her over", but she's fine playing along.]

He totally waited for my shift to end so he could walk me home once. He's definitely winning.

He's got an unfair advantage.

[ Just an observation, okay, tell him he's wrong. ]

You guys have, like, the same DNA. Plus he was a wizard cop, it's really hard to top that.

[That gets her to pull away enough to squint up at him.]

The same DNA because we could both use magic?

Yeah. Like midichlorians.

[ You know. Star Wars. It's in your blood. ]

Oh my God.

[She swats at his arm.]

It's not midichlorians. Is that what you guys talked about?

[She can only imagine Nathan's face.]

Yes, that's definitely what we talked about.

[ He confirms happily, settling back into the couch and flipping through the next few songs until he finds one he likes. ]

He stood there like he does, making that face, you know-- this one--

[ Have his best impression of Nathan's :\ expression. ]

While I talked to him about Star Wars. He had strong opinions, and then we made out and baked cookies.

Edited (thats the face) 2020-08-20 21:28 (UTC)

[Yep, she knows exactly the face he means, and his impression gets her to laugh again.]

Wow, already? Is he a good kisser? I figured he'd be too uptight.

[She says, knowing full well none of that ever happened.]

Surprisingly tender.

[ With the perfect wouldn't you know it tone. ]

All the soft comes out from somewhere deep inside the beard. I've never felt more cherished.

Ugh, gross. I'm gonna puke.

[She reaches up to poke at his beard, tilting her head as though deep in thought.]

Is that where your softness is? I never would have guessed.

I'm softer than you are.

[ He scoffs.

Which... is half true. He's softer externally in a way that has no real substance. Kyna's probably softer in her gooey center. ]

Anyway, did he ever actually get you? What was it about? Bonding over your elite innate magical prowess like the Boy Who Lived?

[She scoffs back, mildly offended for no real reason, and then his question makes her wrinkle her nose.]

No. We've been talking about... you know. Our magic being gone.

[What else is new?]

[ He sobers a little at that. It's a touchy subject, he knows. Didn't broach it with Nathan really, not because they weren't in the business of talking about intimate or serious issues - as it turns out for some fucking bizarre reason that's the only kind of conversation they're capable of having. He genuinely, genuinely cannot explain it. It makes no goddamn sense, it's so far out of his norm and his comfort zone it's like being on fucking Jupiter.

But he imagines it would be the same for Nathan as it is for Kyna. Hollow, he thinks. Leaving a space in her that she can't fill herself yet, because she's built an identity and a sense of self-worth around it.

To be fair, he imagines if someone just robbed him of his entire engineering skill he'd feel the same. Adrift, incapable, unable to find peace in times of high stress.

He settles back, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in against him. His tone comes across as light, easy, even if the gesture could be seen as solemn. ]

Tell me about your magic. I remember what you could do, what you told me before... tell me the rest.

[ Because maybe it's time to just listen for a while instead of trying to convince her over and over to accept it and recognize her worth in other ways. He'll still do that, he'll do that later, he'll swear by it, but...

Sometimes you need this and not that. ]

[It's odd, how good he is at getting her to settle. As soon as he pulls her close she feels some of her tension drain away, and she relaxes against him. Her magic is still a fraught topic, and she knows he thinks she just needs to find something else, but this approach is comforting.

Maybe he can't really get it the way Nathan can, just like she can't really get what it was like having his world irreparably torn apart, but she can try to get him a little closer.]

Okay. What do you want to know?

[ He hums out a thoughtful noise, dragging his hand up and down her bicep in a way that's meant to be comforting. ]

How'd you get started? How'd you learn?

[Oh, right. That.

Kyna presses a little closer, totally unaware she's doing it.]

My dad. His side of the family's always been... You know. Super talented, super respected, all mages. When my brother was born and couldn't do magic at all, he was pissed.

[A little bit of bitterness slips into her voice, prodding at that old wound. She and Nico have always been so protective of each other that it's impossible for her not to get upset on his behalf, even all this time later.]

When he figured out I could, he went all in.

[ Burrow on in, Kyna, he'll just keep doing that soothing wild-horse style petting. ]

Your dad sounds like an asshole.

[ Bluntly, because that's the only real way to frame it. ]

It's not like your brother got to pick. Aren't fathers supposed to be, I don't know, unconditional?

[ He's never had one, couldn't tell you. ]

[The petting helps. She lets out a little scoff at his observation, reaching over to pick absently at a loose thread on his jeans.]

Yeah. He's a total asshole. So's most of his family. They didn't think my mom was good enough.

["Slumming it" was a phrase Kyna's heard more than once. Honestly, most of this isn't too awful to talk about when they're staying away from discussing the emotions of it.]

Anyway, eventually he got bored and fucked off and then I mostly taught myself.

[ His lips twist downward, affronted on her mother's behalf despite having no knowledge or context about the woman. It's immediate and subconscious, a product of his relationship with his own mother. The lingering threads of loyalty left behind despite his broken heart and his resentment over what he's perceived as betrayal.

He exhales contemplatively, looking for the right words, the right approach. Gentle and understanding, supportive but not disrespectful. ]

You deserved better than him anyway. Sounds like your mom and your brother did, too. I don't know much about fathers other than the fact that they're unnecessary. You can be strong without them — or to spite them, even.

[It's nice to hear, sure, but she's heard it before, and she never knows quite how to respond to it. Actually, it means a little more that he's offended for them.]

I know that I don't need him. I guess it's... I don't know.

[Not the point, but she doesn't know how to explain it.]

[ He could keep offering surface level platitudes, or he could give away a piece of himself.

Really relate, in a way that might be telling.

There's a long pause before he speaks again. ]

It's that he left. That he didn't think you were worth sticking around for.

[ Right? ]

[Kyna doesn't flinch, but she does tense in a way that seems like the same thing. That's exactly what it is, and having him lay it out so succinctly makes something in her chest twist. She has to fight the instinct to pull away and shut down the conversation, so for a moment, she seems inordinately focused on that loose thread she's playing with.]

Yeah. I guess.

[ He feels the tension, and it aches in the back of his throat. An old wound he doesn't acknowledge that he carries, even though an extremely distant and logical piece of his mind knows. Instinctively, despite his refusal to think of the issue in so many words, he knows.

He just ignores it.

Like recognizes like. ]

Yeah.

[ He murmurs quietly, and the urge to say me, too sits fat and heavy on his tongue.

Can't seem to force it out. ]

[He usually knows exactly what to say, so the sudden silence jostles her out of her own melancholy, enough to look up at him. She's not sure if she's screwed this up by shutting down, or if it's something else. For a fleeting second, she has the urge to reach for his hand, wanting the certainty of the empathy bond, but that old anxiety stops her.]

Sorry, I'm...

[Kyna shifts, sitting up a bit straighter, pressing closer into his side.]

I'm bad at talking about this shit sometimes.

[ He scoffs instantly. ]

Pff, I'm not. I navigate complex emotional issues and my lingering baggage with the grace of a fuckin' dolphin.

[

He's just saying he gets it. Don't apologize. ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject