ᴅʀ. ᴀɴɢᴇʟᴀ ❝ᴍᴇʀᴄʏ❞ ᴢɪᴇɢʟᴇʀ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cadeuces) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2017-02-19 12:00 pm
cadeuces) wrote in thisavrou_log2017-02-19 12:00 pm
( open ) there's a road that follows to a home
Who: Angela & you!
When: The month of February and onward
Where: Region 2 farmlands, at her cottage
What: A permanent downtime log for house shenanigans!
Warnings: None, but I will update if anything comes along!
[ Angela's work schedule is a fairly clear-cut thing on the best of days. Three days working in Kauto's hospital, three days up on Chioni, and then two days off. Around the time of planet discovery and the initial burst of travels, she hovers around the Ingress Complex to assist any who may return injured, and she's otherwise on call across all three if emergencies required her skills. To say she isn't home terribly often is a fair enough assessment, but she still had plenty of downtime every evening, considering the longer days.
There's a key in the base of the lantern beside her front door, but not everyone knows about it— not even a handful from her own world. Those who do, however, know they have a free pass to her home whether she's there or no. A spare bed to crawl into, a couch to wait on, access to her stash of medical supplies (but seriously just call her for help). A kitchen to rummage through, now often with fresh-baked bread and a steady offering of apples off her trees on hand, as well as any leftovers in the fridge.
Eiger still accompanies her to work as a resident therapy dog, but he could be found around the property when she works her shifts on Chioni, access out the back door through the flap when he no longer feels like awaiting her return at the front. The cottage itself is on a hill and the back extends out on a bridge as an elongated sunroom, stretching out over the creek running through her property. The back door itself leads one to a winding path down through the copse of trees preceding her quaint little orchard of apple and walnut trees, surrounding a gazebo set up with a fire pit and the basics for cooking in warmer weather, hammock piled high in furs leftover from the Midway Hub's game— if anyone chose to visit and didn't have access to her house, this would be the ideal place to camp. (Just make sure to message her so she knows you're there! She'll come around once she's home to let you in.)
If she's home and not in the house, one would undoubtedly find her in that hammock with her work, fire crackling at hand and her cup of coffee long-since cold, Eiger curled up behind her legs. It's not the largest of places, but it's home, and there's blankets on near every surface— even the chairs in the kitchen. The creek is a relaxing babble, the creak of the water wheel partially powering her home, and if she's home, there's always a fire going if it's cold out and coffee going. ]
( ooc: This will be a permanent post for house stuff! I'll be posting monthly headers and any prompts relating to events or going-ons within to link from my toplevels, but I am 100% open to casual plotting or visits; just hit me up at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
clegane or on discord (gauche#5968) and we can work something out! ♥ )
february ● march ● april ● may ● june ● july ● august
When: The month of February and onward
Where: Region 2 farmlands, at her cottage
What: A permanent downtime log for house shenanigans!
Warnings: None, but I will update if anything comes along!
[ Angela's work schedule is a fairly clear-cut thing on the best of days. Three days working in Kauto's hospital, three days up on Chioni, and then two days off. Around the time of planet discovery and the initial burst of travels, she hovers around the Ingress Complex to assist any who may return injured, and she's otherwise on call across all three if emergencies required her skills. To say she isn't home terribly often is a fair enough assessment, but she still had plenty of downtime every evening, considering the longer days.
There's a key in the base of the lantern beside her front door, but not everyone knows about it— not even a handful from her own world. Those who do, however, know they have a free pass to her home whether she's there or no. A spare bed to crawl into, a couch to wait on, access to her stash of medical supplies (but seriously just call her for help). A kitchen to rummage through, now often with fresh-baked bread and a steady offering of apples off her trees on hand, as well as any leftovers in the fridge.
Eiger still accompanies her to work as a resident therapy dog, but he could be found around the property when she works her shifts on Chioni, access out the back door through the flap when he no longer feels like awaiting her return at the front. The cottage itself is on a hill and the back extends out on a bridge as an elongated sunroom, stretching out over the creek running through her property. The back door itself leads one to a winding path down through the copse of trees preceding her quaint little orchard of apple and walnut trees, surrounding a gazebo set up with a fire pit and the basics for cooking in warmer weather, hammock piled high in furs leftover from the Midway Hub's game— if anyone chose to visit and didn't have access to her house, this would be the ideal place to camp. (Just make sure to message her so she knows you're there! She'll come around once she's home to let you in.)
If she's home and not in the house, one would undoubtedly find her in that hammock with her work, fire crackling at hand and her cup of coffee long-since cold, Eiger curled up behind her legs. It's not the largest of places, but it's home, and there's blankets on near every surface— even the chairs in the kitchen. The creek is a relaxing babble, the creak of the water wheel partially powering her home, and if she's home, there's always a fire going if it's cold out and coffee going. ]
( ooc: This will be a permanent post for house stuff! I'll be posting monthly headers and any prompts relating to events or going-ons within to link from my toplevels, but I am 100% open to casual plotting or visits; just hit me up at
no subject
[ Angela won't let him brush that off; not unless he's certain his friend had died, or somehow not gambled upon the opportunity Shiro had given him. She's never been in such a position but she knows what it means to take calculated risks, to weigh the pros and cons and self-sacrifice for what was right, and what you felt was worth it. Shiro had taken a huge risk for his life and didn't get the chance to see how it worked out. That's a cruel fate, for someone tackling such a selfless cause.
She catches his eyes even if only for a moment, but there's a difference between empathy and sympathy. Understanding versus pitying one's losses and pain. There's no pity to be found here.
The explanation that follows is at length, perhaps, and a bit beyond her understanding, but she follows along regardless. Puts context to what he's told her before, his actions, their consequences. What it would mean for him. And then she has a proper picture of just what had happened, she thinks.
No one gave him much of a say in the matter, in the end. And he was still missing pieces of himself, trying to patch over the holes. ]
But what about you, Shiro? It's wonderful that you believe in them, well and truly— but did you ever find your answers? Shake out any memories of what happened?
[ She gives one of those shoulders a little squeeze to prompt him on, half-knead and half-reassurance for him to go on, leaning a little closer against his side to stabilize her presence. ]
Who would that be...? It isn't fair to thrust someone into such a position of control without giving them all the information they'll need. Sending forces in and telling them misinformation can get a lot of good people killed instead of being honest about what they don't know. Giving someone false confidence to tackle what lies ahead means they won't be wary of their surroundings and approach cautiously. They're less likely to adapt, improvise on the spot. It's... inadvisable, on a purely objective viewpoint.
[ What this all says is that it isn't fair. He shouldn't have been treated the way he had, or even given leadership if they wished to ignore his basic needs to meet his job. It's giving a delivery driver food and no car. Telling men to build a home with no lumber or plaster, no blueprints. ]
no subject
[Which is the problem. That's the issue entirely. How little he knows about what happened to Matt, or Commander Holt. If they were alive, if they were still imprisoned... Pidge is all there is. All he knows for sure. And she deserves an answer to all her questions.]
[Did he ever find his answers?]
[He thought he would. When faced with a captive in stasis. When staring down an unconscious foe they'd all defeated together. He'd been close. So close. And then?]
No.
[And then the world turned on its side, telling him things he didn't want to hear. Words he couldn't stop listening to, over and over again. Taunting, mocking. Words he didn't even know were real, or imagined.] No, I didn't. Nothing ever came back.
[He should tell her about Sendak. But he's not sure if he can. If he wants her to know what he'd done in a panic. How badly he'd lost composure. So he doesn't. Maybe another time.]
She... [Allura] wasn't going to tell me the original Black Paladin was the one we've been fighting since day one.
The Galra leader. Their emperor.
She knew. She knew. And she wasn't going to tell me. Or any of us.
[He doesn't even try to keep the hurt out of the words. Maybe it's childish to be so upset over an omission. Maybe he should be better about this. More accepting, more understanding. Acknowledge her reasoning and just move on.]
[But he can't.]
[He's pulling his hands from the dog to drag them over his face.]
She told me it was too big of a risk. Like I was something that couldn't be trusted. [Something -- not someone.] Like I was going to charge after him the second I knew...
no subject
[ She wants to tell him she's proud of him, that she's so glad to have met him— maybe she still will. For now, she's trying to listen more than speak, direct him with the right questions. Angela can't even be sure she has them, but she still tries. It's her door he'd ended up at, after all, so he must think she can help. ]
Amnesia is such a difficult thing to suffer through; I wish I could help. It will all come back to you, even if it's in scattered pieces. The mind has so many ways to process emotional turmoil and upset, we can't predict how we'll handle heavier issues.
[ And then it comes out. Just like that. It made sense to her why he's so bothered, the magnitude of the truth that had been kept from him and just how deep this ran, what it truly meant to have withheld such information— that tightness in her chest is a quiet fury, burning like old coals. With everything that Shiro had going on, even with the origin of his arm— he wasn't untrustworthy. Everything about him, his every word and action, has been one of loyalty. Of trying to corral his team for the greater good. Even missing years of his life, he presses forward on the good will of complete strangers who have placed their trust in him, even with an alien hand he's still learning to accept.
This man has tried so hard to pull what few pieces together he had to paint a full picture, had given his all to Allura, and she hadn't reciprocated that trust or loyalty. And Angela, so rarely the type to be riled up, is splenetic on his behalf. He has every right to be upset; there aren't many reasons even someone as patient as Angela would accept for such a slight.
All she can do is murmur his name again, empathetic and sorrowful, an apology of its own for what's happened, even if she's not a part of it. He drags his hands over his face and she reaches to catch them, curling her fingers around his own to draw back away. And, yes, leaning into his space to bump her brow to his, hold his hands together in his lap. When he continues on further, she'll reach up for him to wrap an arm up about his neck, drawing him in if he'll let her. ]
She was wrong. Is wrong, about you and her decision not to tell you. You're a wonderful and intelligent person, Shiro. You've done nothing but earn the trust of those around you. You're loyal, and you're brave, and you care deeply. [ Oop there it is— she'll punctuate with a press of her lips to his hair, a soft and brief thing meant to convey fondness, the honesty of her statement. ] If they've expected you to be the leader, you need to be given all the information and be trusted to apply it as necessary. To be able to sort it out yourself and make your own decisions on how to proceed.
I'm so sorry, Ssüässli. You deserve so much more for all you've given.
no subject
[It doesn't feel brave. It just feels like something that had to be done. Like there was no other choice. Either let Matt die, or give him a chance. That wasn't a choice, not in a real sense of the word. A choice meant both options were valid.]
[He shakes his head, instead of answering. Because what comes up next is something he actually has to answer.]
I'm not -- I'm not even sure I want to know. [Metal fingers flex briefly, for emphasis.] Not everything.
[Or if he wants to know how far he'd had to go to survive. How many people he'd... faced... in the arena. They couldn't all have been monsters. Could they? Was what he'd heard, the voice in his head, or the whisper he'd imagined, right? The "monster" being real?]
[Was he, really, one?]
[His brain is running in circles with all of this. With what had gone on between himself and Allura and whether or not he'd deserved to hear it. Whether or not she'd been right. He doesn't realize where his hands have migrated to, until Angela is pulling at them. Until she's tugging at him. He's too wound up to resist.]
[And... then too surprised by her answer to pull away.]
[After Darin of all people sided with Allura, he was expecting to hear he'd been wrong, again. That how he'd reacted had been completely out of line. And part of him believed it.]
You... you don't agree with her? [Yes, she'd just said that. But he still wants confirmation, in away.] Angela, I ... lost my temper with her. That's not what should have ... I shouldn't have done that.
I threw everything back in her face. And left.
You can't -- really think I was right to do that.
no subject
I wish life was so easy, dear. Many of us don't get the luxury of forgetting the bad, but I can promise you'll be able to handle whatever it may reveal. It's already in the past and you're still all right. You'll just have to remember those two things and know that no matter what it had been, it's been made irrelevant at least on that front. Anything else is simply context.
[ It doesn't do him any good to focus on it, so she will try to offer a tidy end and allow him to rest on it— there are more important things, after all, but it was a crucial tie-in to how the situation has gone down and why it had been so wrong of her treatment of him. She doesn't know Allura and wishes no harm upon her, nor does she feel she's even a bad person. But she sounded relatively young and has made her mistakes as well. That is something that needs to be recognized by both parties.
Shiro doesn't resist her drawing him into a hug, so she will do just that. His good arm drawn to her waist to reach up and circle his neck, her words all the closer to sink deeper when she speaks. ]
I don't agree with her. [ There's your confirmation, softly-spoken yet with her conviction behind each syllable just as firm. ] We're an impulsive people, Shiro. Mistakes were made on both sides of this, it sounds like, but you're not wrong to be upset and hurt by what has happened. A leader can't do their job without all available information given. What she did may have been out of concern, but it was still not correct. Having a piece like that in her pocket and not sharing it with you could have readily resulted in your death from the sound of it.
Perhaps you shouldn't have lost your temper, but it is still within reason.
[ Having drawn him down to her reach for an embrace, her fingers card into his hair to stroke, recalling how it'd calmed him in the hospital. She lets out a long breath, not quite a sigh even as it dispels some measure of ire in her frame— being upset made her tense, and she can't give him that here. He's already upset himself. So she relaxes in example, and Eiger's curled up on the floor against one of Shiro's ankles, where he'll be cementing himself the rest of Shiro's stay. ]
That storm will pass, dear, and life will settle. Give it a day or two for both of you to rest on it and think things through, then work on your apologies. You can stay here as long as you'd like.
no subject
[But maybe his crew isn't. His old crew. Maybe Pidge's family isn't. There's no way to know. There's no way of knowing, and it's going to slowly drive him crazy if he keeps being so obsessed with it. Even privately. He's shaking his head. But, she's right, in a way. They're not here to dwell on Matt.]
Right.
[He can't break. He can't even bend. He's not supposed to. Not allowed to. He's meant to be calm and collected and in control all the time, but -- there's something in her confirmation. Something in the simple words: I don't agree with her that feels like a shock run through his body. Run through his heart and brain. His hands shake.]
[It's lucky they're out of immediate view. He doesn't even know why it feels like she's shaken the world around him with those simple words, but it does. Maybe he just needed someone to tell him it was okay to crack, even around the edges, under the weight of something so big he couldn't know it all, let alone shoulder it. And it occurs to him, briefly, belatedly, that no one from his team is here. None of them are standing on the sidelines to observe. To watch.]
[He's not a leader, here. He's whatever there is left of Shiro.]
[you're not wrong to crack. you're not wrong to lose control. you're not wrong to be human.]
[And by the time she has her fingers in his hair again, he can't see her around the blurriness of vision. Can't talk around the knot in his chest and throat. God, but he's tried. Tried so hard and so long and not one word to whether or not everything going through his head was allowed. Always just how wrong he was to feel like he had been. How he shouldn't do this or that, how he shouldn't think he'd lost the Princess, shouldn't feel he has to look after everyone and everything.]
[Now here's Angela. Telling him it's okay. Just this once.]
[There's no sound to it. There's not even a change in breathing, or shaking shoulders. He just nods his head, telling her he's heard. Trying to thank her while no words come out.]
[He might as well have been sitting silently and listening while she spoke, except for the damp patches on her shoulder where his face is resting.]
[And it's some time before he can lift his head to even try to meet her eye. His head still bowed, as if, despite the sudden, crackling feeling of relief, he's still ashamed he let himself go like that. His hand slips from her, to move to find the dog's fur again. It's nothing like being linked to the Lion, but... hey. An animal is an animal, right?]
... Thank you. I... believe you. It's going to take a lot to remember it all, but... I believe you.
[His voice is a little too thick for normal promises, but just as earnest as ever.] You think they'll survive? Being on their own for a day or two?
no subject
To his credit, it's such a clean break by the time he's gathered his pieces back up and arranged them back together, you'd scarcely see so much as a chip let alone the web of cracks now littering him. Head to toe, the curl of his body invoking more where he bends, the flimsy shell of "leader" under duress. There's no quickened or shortness of breath, no sniffles, and he doesn't even really reach to circle her in his arms.
He takes her embrace the way he's taken everything thrust upon him thus far. Quiet and without complaint, to the best of his ability. She feels his tears soak right through the wool to her skin and his words have come to a dead stop.
The little nod he offers only smears his tears further, but for as long as he needs, he doesn't have to worry about impressions or holding himself together for a change.
She gets it. She really does. So for now she just keeps with the steady card of her fingers through his hair, keeping her breathing measured for him to pace his own to, head resting against his as she kneads at his neck gently. Same pacing, slow and easy. It's a while before he finally raises his head and lets her go, hand immediately dropping to find Eiger beneath his palm as she draws back just enough to meet him with a smile.
And then she's cupping his cheeks, thumb brushing beneath one eye. Even if his tears have dried there's still a dampness at his lashes and she'll fan them back out. ]
I'm glad. They're certainly words to evaluate for yourself, but take your time. They're yours if you'll have them. [ Then, smile widening: ] They have other supervision. They'll be just fine, I promise. You're free to sleep wherever you please, and the shower's also all yours. There's a guest room upstairs across from mine, or there's the sofas here and the rollout over there, or there's also the sunroom. If you like listening to the creek.
You're going to be just fine, Shiro.