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Who: Andyr + YOU! and plotted peeps starters too
When: April stuffs
Where: Varies, see prompts
What: Moira Aquarium stuff + Cage matches + Being a sad sack of crap v84390584059430251.0, etc
Warnings: violence, memories of his fucked up homeworld, sad things

[ OTA ] R1: THE MOIRA AQUARIUM;

[ many days, andyr feels out of sorts with himself. like his body and his soul are just slightly off, the outlines like transparencies spread an inch too far to the side to line up perfectly. he doesn't feel right, some days, being home at st. monmouth. he finds himself straying into R1 more often, even beyond his moonlighting in the cage matches. back to the aquarium that he'd unloaded into this building from the Moira, now open to the public to visit and explore and enjoy.

it was his sanctuary, then, a peaceful world so familiar and quiet. it's the same now, as he lays, sprawled out under one of the more massive tanks, arms tossed to the side and eyes either blinked closed, or half lidded, watching the figures in the water move around in a daze. it should be mentioned, this is going on during business hours, and patrons are just having to split their path around him. going to inform one of the workers isn't likely to help move this homeless looking dude out of the way, given he owns this building and all the tanks within it.

but otherwise, said workers are good at keeping things going without him, and they're all familiar with his odd tendencies. best just to ignore him and go on your way. ]

[ OTA ] R1: CAGE/DEATH MATCHES, CW: GROSS VIOLENCE;

[ inside the arena, andyr's unrecognizable. a savage, vicious creature that bears his teeth, bites into flesh, pulls the limbs from monstrous creatures brought from all over to make an exciting spectacle. he's brutal, graphically so, and moves with a ruthless, merciless, mindless violence to him. andyr can almost overlay the images of hapsburg over the building around him, over the cheering crowds. he pushes it in his mind, sending his rage, his fear, his panic and desperation screeching off the lines of stability in his mind, drowning himself in the nightmare of it to be certain that it all comes out now.

that he purges it here. buries it in the ribcage he rips open with his bare hands curled like talons, lets it pour from him and mix with the blood, tissue and brain matter that's splattered over the ruined hoodie he'll be dumping into the trash before he makes his way home. they'd ground this part of him into his veins, into his mind, and andyr knows no other way to ensure it doesn't touch the peace in st. monmouth than to try and exhaust it here.

the memories of home, being stuck with needle after needle, shoved into cages like these and told to fight, or stripped and strapped down to a lab table, screaming and begging for the pain to stop, until he gets free, and drags massacre through the halls - it all pushes constantly on his mind, in the quiet moments of his day, when he watches adam read or ronan tend to the cattle, seeping through his dreams like a hand reaching from the void beyond the ingress, dragging him back.

when andyr steps out of the ring covered with splattered blood and entrails, leaving a motionless, maimed and dismembered corpse of some previously ferocious beast behind, there's no movement to his features, no light in his eyes, just a sigh, as he rolls his neck, soundling oddly close to relief, while pacing lazily towards the showers. ]

[ CLOSED TO CR ] R2: MOPING AROUND ALVA'S ABANDONED FARM HOUSE;

[ alan varren had been the one true thing andyr knew, about anything. this place, these people, the houses back home, the future, morality, his own purpose and being. that one true thing is now gone, and andyr crumbles.

his old house in R2 is easy enough to break into, andyr busting a window open and climbing himself through, pulling the shades and pushing a heavy bookcase in front of it behind him. it isn't hard to find the spare key - alva's predictable like that. reliable. trustworthy. before, where they were from, in andyr's true reality, he'd known he was doing right, because alva believed in him. when he'd been close to breaking, time and time again, it was alva that stitched him closed and quietly held his hand in the cold silence of the glorianna labs. it was a simple fact of his universe that alan varren was the one thing left in all that was living that was still worth saving. perhaps, with the addition of posie and mikal, but those two aren't here either, and they were never so much of a guardian figure as alva was.

andyr spends days in the house, going through alva's remaining things, putting his old sweaters on, curling up in his bed, pulling his pillows close to his face and his blankets up over his head. retracing the steps alva would have taken around the house. reading the books left out, sitting in the chair he likely read them in. even eating all the gross health food in his fridge. he misses him like an aching chasm in his chest, but he can't cry for him. wishes he could, but it just doesn't come. so he leaves the house in a huff, goes outside in one of the sweaters that dwarfs andyr's smaller shoulder span, and punches and punches and punches a tree until it topples over, his hand bloody and torn up over the knuckles.

pacing back inside, feeling just as numb, he wraps bandages over his hand, and goes back to bed. the cycle repeats. ]

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[ Andyr sits at the edge of the flushing table Adrien had inherited from Alva, cold in his hospital slip, feet bare as they swing idly, and fingers crushing vice-like on Bucky's hand, twined with his.

There's a plastic barf bag in one hand, the smell of sterilization and medical chemicals making his stomach do flips, nausea as if he's on a wildly bobbing ship. Andyr shivers, teeth chattering, with goosebumps crawling along his bare arms, hand squeezing again, wordlessly, at Bucky's. it's a good thing they'd all agreed that Adrien ought to know the process for how to flush the ports, but this new place, and this too familiar table, still has fear and tension and spikes of anger pulsing through his mind.

Adrien comes around the corner, into the lab, and andyr's eyes skim from him, to the table behind him, and linger in the long, wicked sharp needles sticking out, ready for his spine to settle down onto them, stabbing in. There's really no way to make this process any less horrible, aside from having people he trusts and cares for nearby. Thus, Adrien and Bucky. Adrien, who's the kindest doctor he'd known since Alva, and Bucky, who is the only person on the crew that feels sturdy and strong enough to andyr that he can imagine himself as truly safe. something of an older brother to him. he swallows, before clearing his throat, voice with a clear unease in it. ]

If there's anything you don't remember from what Alva did, I can probably fill in.

Edited 2017-04-24 12:23 (UTC)

[ Bucky is right there with him, a silent, stoic presence -- he's attuned to Andyr's distress levels, acutely aware of the fact that the younger man definitely doesn't like this part of the process. They're here to flush his ports, and Bucky's free hand rests near the top of his spine, a distance away from the ports.

You're all right. He says from time to time, low and quiet as he watches the good doctor work, alert and cautious and ready to extract Andyr at a moment's notice if something goes wrong. It's unsettling, the clinical nature of this place, the reminder of Bucky's own experiences, the fear, the pain.

Andyr must be feeling largely the same thing, too. So he's nearby, feeling the way his hand squeezes his, and he squeezes back. He's silent when Andyr speaks, providing the other with quiet strength, a sense of calm that he knows Andyr definitely isn't feeling. ]

[ andyr's talk with adam had been long, drawn out, and horrible. as had the short time he'd kept it to himself, until the talk was had with ronan himself, and andyr feels ready to break apart by the time he wanders into ronan's room, seeing him seated on the mattress they'd all shared together. even explained as plainly as it had been, with an assurance this would've happened regardless of him, andyr still feels like a criminal in this room. like he'd brought destruction into ronan's perfect love.

shuffling forward, he moves to kneel just on the floor boards near the edge of ronan's bed, eyes on his hands, laid in his lap, as he struggles to think of anything to say. he doesn't feel right being here. like rubbing salt in the wound. maybe he should just go. head back to alva's abandoned house and curl up there, be a hermit until an ingress rep comes to tell him they're ready to send him home too. back to hell, where he belongs.

breathing out, he pulls his legs up, thighs hugged to his chest, looking smaller than he ought to be. ]

I'm so sorry, Ronan. All you wanted to do was love him. I should've stayed out of it. It would've been the right choice, and I knew it, but I was just too fucking selfish.

I'm sorry.

Edited 2017-04-23 21:15 (UTC)

[Ronan watches Andyr enter the room and settle in beside the bed. And he waits, heavy with dread as he anticipates the next words. He expects words of apology, but a different kind. He expects to hear that Andyr's leaving, that he's made his decision and he's decided to join Adam, that this will be goodbye. After all, it's what Ronan assumed would happen the moment Adam mentioned he would be moving out. Adam and Andyr were simply better together, with each other, without Ronan.

So he's perplexed when something else comes out of Andyr's mouth, and he sits forward immediately.]

What the fuck? No, that's... Jesus fucking Christ, no. He wanted you there. He insisted. That's not your fucking fault.

[ ronan could scream at him and kick him and andyr still wouldn't want to be any further from him. since they'd come so close that night on the dead planet, andyr'd had a need to be close to him, if not romantically, at least in friendship, in proximity, in watching over him and being somewhere nearby. now, with alva gone, there's a thrumming anxiety in him at the thought of moving away from him, terrified ronan will want him to leave, after all of this.

the truth is, andyr doesn't function as a fully formed human being well on his own. the evidence of that is seen well enough on his trips to R1. the people that make him feel real - alva, ronan, adam, bucky. he needs them more than he'll ever say, for fear both of guilting them into staying close, as well as admitting that he's much less indestructible than he likes to believe. but with this, he's taken far, far too much from ronan. the preservation of his flimsy sanity and worthless self can't account for that. ]

'Cause I was already there. [ andyr states simply, and they have to both know adam never would've requested it if they hadn't done what they did before he showed up. ]

[Maybe that's true. But that has everything to do with Ronan and nothing to do with Andyr. He climbs up off the bed, settling onto the floor in front of Andyr, where he can look into Andyr's eyes.]

Whose fault is that, huh? I'm the one who was supposed to be faithful. If I wasn't going to see him again, I should have been prepared to die alone. The right person would have done that for him. He needed me to belong to him.

But it was my choice not to wait, and my choice to move on, and that's just the proof right there, man. I didn't deserve him. I'm faithless and impure and there's nothing that can change that about me.

[ andyr doesn't want to meet his eyes, wants to sit and be a petulant, fragile thing, and soak up the self-loathing, but he's already done enough of a disservice to ronan. swallowing, his chin tilts up, meeting ronan's eyes, with a schooled neutrality to his features. ]

I knew you were taken, and I knew what you wanted. [ he's also just promised ronan that he'd find him a way home, to send him back to the boy he loves. he'd done the opposite. ] I'm the adult here, I should've stopped it and I didn't.

[ andyr's voice comes out even, but serious. he isn't asking ronan to tell him otherwise, he just wants to take the blame he feels he's due, and hopefully, somehow, that will put the two of them back together. ]

Whatever you are or aren't, or whatever you deserve. You're still one of the best people I've ever known. Anyone's lucky to have you in their life.

[That's a fucking ridiculous thing to say to someone who has really, honestly, undeniably been responsible for the deaths and supernatural destruction of his loved ones.]

Adam isn't lucky. I was his curse before I was anything else to him. Trying to love me was like trying to love the chains keeping him prisoner. If I worshiped him the way he deserved, maybe he could've felt something other than resentment for me. That was the fucking best I could hope for. But I failed him a long time ago, so that's it. He's taking all the freedom he can get, and God willing, I'll die soon and he'll have the rest of himself back.

[ seeing ronan in this kind of volatile pain hurts andyr like tangled razor wire being dragged through his gut, catching on all his organs and bones and nerves. there's such a helplessness in him, watching him and listening, and he wishes he had any kind of argument for it. the truth is, he doesn't know the weight of what they've been through, he can't speak to any kind of hope for it, and besides, hopeful sentiments have never, never been his strong suit.

in this kind of thing, there's nothing to fight, nothing to war against, nothing to bitterly spit venom at. and thus, andyr's useless in combating it. ]

I'm lucky. [ for what it's worth. ronan's been a gifted presence to him, someone who's made him feel more alive than he has in ages, and more willing to be. the thought of ronan dying is nothing new, and while alarming as it always is, in some measure, it's accepted. carefully, cautiously, because he knows nothing better to do for him, andyr slips forward tugging at ronan's hands, then pulling at his arms, then wrapping them around his back, trying to tug the boy into his lap, as he whispers to him. ] I love you. I see who you are, I know what you've done. You're worth everything to me, and I want to follow you wherever you go.

[ the sentiment from before still stands - if it's ronan's fate to die, andyr wants to be there with him straight up to the end. if he could follow after him too, maybe he would. but he doubts that'll help now. ] I'm sorry, Ronan. I wish I could fix it for you.

Edited 2017-04-30 04:11 (UTC)

[Ronan is equally at a loss. Under no circumstances could he ever blame Adam for leaving him. The only thing left to fight is himself, and that's something he's been forbidden from destroying, so he's reduced to isolation and endless self-loathing. He's so certain he'll never be okay, and that no one else will be okay as long as they're around him. He doesn't want Andyr to reassure him or contradict him. He only wants it to be understood: Everything is his own fault and always will be.

But he doesn't push Andyr away. Ronan allows himself to be drawn in, climbing into Andyr's lap the way he's done so many times when he's been hurt or frightened. His long legs curl around Andyr's body, arms draping over his shoulders.]

It's not up to you to fix anything. It never was. Okay?

[They'd put too much responsibility for their happiness on Andyr, dragging him into their relationship. A relationship that had been broken from the start, if any of them were truly honest with themselves.]

[ andyr exhales like a seal was broken, as if he'd been needing to be close to ronan like this since hearing adam say what he did, and he can only just now breath as it happens. sighing, he tucks his nose against ronan's neck, his palms sweeping over ronan's long back at the lankier boy arches over him, huddled into his lap. ]

I wanted to. I still do. [ it's what andyr does, how he feels like his existence in anyone else's life is close to worth something. how he justifies human connection, maybe. if he isn't being valuable, what's the point of him anymore? ] I'd be a shitty friend if I didn't.

[ that, he does truly believe. no matter what extra they are, ronan will always, at the basic core of their relationship, be his friend, a dear one. ]

It's okay to not be okay, you know? Promise I won't tell anyone.

[Ronan isn't sure how to take that. "Friend" can be an also or it can be a just. He's been prepared for Andyr to leave him, too, though. When Adam first mentioned moving out, Ronan immediately assumed he'd be taking Andyr with him. He presses his face into the crook of Andyr's neck and sucks in a shaky breath.]

He was always gonna leave me. I knew it since before I ever kissed him. There's no point in begging someone to stay when you're not where they wanna be. So I'll be fine, okay? He needs this and I accept it.

[He'd been ready to suggest it, really. Adam only beat him to it.]

All I want is for him to be happy. Wherever he can find that, because I know it's not with me.

[Which is Ronan's way of giving his blessing, if Andyr's looking for it.]

[ andyr's hand strokes over the back of Ronan's head, short hairs bristling against his palm in a kind of familiar way that makes him feel like he's found home. The scent of smoke and gasoline and leather that is Ronan Lynch surrounds him, and just the weight of the boy against his body is a reassurance. He only wishes he could do something more than just exist for him. ]

You know... I thought once, Alva was the beginning and end of love for me. When he had a family with someone else, I figured, I'm too broken and too much of a fucking disaster to have that. Better he go one way and find happiness, and I go find the most valuable way to burn myself out.

[ the war. Running into every death trap he could, trying to provide some kind of use to someone before fate saw fit to just end him. ]

But then I came here, and I found this boy with dumb fluffy hair and enough sadness and love and life in him to make worlds, and he built me a home that I never wanna leave. [ Andyr squeezes at him, lifting his head to kiss Ronan's cheek, and his temple. His voice is quiet and soft, just enough of a whisper to hear between them. ]

Nobody can replace Adam, but you still have a family here, Ronan, and we all still love you so, so much. [ andyr's cheek leans against his, hugging to him as he rocks him side to side. ] I'm here as long as you want me.

[Ronan's lip trembles. He doesn't speak right away, because he's certain his voice will sound small and pathetic and desperate when he wants to be none of those things. He wants to believe what he just said, that Adam needs and deserves to be free of him, and it's an assertion he should make with confidence.

Only it's hard to be strong when his heart's breaking. There's no undoing what's done, but Ronan will always wish he'd been better. That he'd been worthy. And for some reason it stings to hear that others still love him. Being reassured somehow hurts more than he thinks it would have if Andyr had come out and told him he's hopeless and terrible and there's no one in the universe who could stand to love him. That, at least, would have felt true.]

Don't stay for me.

[Adam had never wanted to be here, and he tortured himself by remaining for Ronan's sake.]

Stay if you want. Or go with him if you want. Just don't do it for me.

[ brows knitting, andyr pulls his head back just enough to look at ronan's face, frown deep on his lips. it's a mystery to him why ronan would ever think he'd want to leave. he'd thought he'd made it plenty clear that he wants nothing more than to be with ronan for as long as he possibly can. a hand comes to stroke across his cheek, thumb sweeping under his eye, as if there were invisible tears there to wipe away. ]

Staying was never a question.

[ not for a single moment had he actually considered leaving st. monmouth, or ronan himself. the anxiety of 'does he want me to leave' becomes irrelevant for the moment, in face of this, and andyr shuffles them around enough to hook his arms under ronan's butt and the top of his thighs, hoisting him up enough to move them both onto the bed, and lay them down, andyr curling ronan into his chest with kisses pressed along his forehead and cheeks. ]

I'd be miserable if I left this place, or if I left you. I'm staying because I want to. [ andyr whispers to him quietly, because love is a terrifying thing to him. a terrifying and wonderful and beautiful thing. ] Whether you're sad or you're happy, I wanna be somewhere I can see you everyday.

[ there's a corner of the gym that's set to the side, all strange looking weights of foreign looking metal - things ronan had dreamed up, to be the kind of weight and resistance and durability andyr's physiology needs to make any kind of real progress with his strength. andyr's written his name on the edges of all the bars, the weights, the benches. even a sign that says "ANDYR'S, DON'T TOUCH." if someone unaware of the massive weight on these things were to unwittingly try to mess with them, there could be very serious injury.

either way, he's in here a large part of his day besides, so it isn't as if people who come by often won't be aware. Unless they're completely oblivious to his mutated strength and density. perhaps some are, but andyr's assumed they're all warned about him from at least someone before committing to living in a house next to someone as dangerous as him.

the metal clacks and he does bench presses, up and down, inhale deep, exhale sharp as you push up with all that's in you. he's just finished a set of about 20 when he slots the bar and sits up, nothing but a flimsy muscle shirt clinging to his body, the ports along his back fairly easy to see through the thin fabric, and the dip of the neckline.

reaching out to grab his water bottle, he turns just enough to see the boy in the gym doorway - declan lynch. he looks like hell at the moment, ragged and worn, but he lifts the bottle anyway, a short sentiment of 'hi'. sup. ]

Edited 2017-04-23 21:21 (UTC)

[ He's heard bits and pieces about Andyr, but nothing of the whole, and nothing about his mutated strength, etc. Declan has certainly discussed a few other things about Andyr with Ronan, but the other man is still something of a mystery to him.

Declan's been coming to the gym on and off, mostly to spar with Ronan, so he doesn't usually see Andyr around. it's definitely not because Declan is avoiding him. There are only so many people he can avoid in this household, and Jesse has already topped that list several time.

He doesn't know how he feels about working out with someone who has their own specific sign that says 'DON'T TOUCH' (like how old are we? Really?), but it's not like he's going to leave, and maybe this is good time for them to talk, or bond, or at least for Declan to get a better idea about why Ronan is so keen on keeping this guy around ]

Hey.

[ Declan greets him back, heading on over that way, flinging his towel around his neck ]

Didn't think anyone would be in here this early.

[ it is fairly early, and andyr's gym hours tend to be a bit weird. usually when he wakes up is a good staple. before he goes to bed. any time in between that he's bored or restless. so he goes in and out fairly often. especially considering his sleep schedule isn't terribly regular either.

even if declan hadn't been avoiding him, andyr had, even after their awkward initial meeting. perhaps even more so. andyr watches him as he walks over, coming towards him rather than going to any of the other equipment. he's grateful he has at least a little more clothes on this time. ]

Only other person in here is usually Ronan. [ andyr shrugs, as he sets up another barbell, set on the floor as he changes out some weights. ]

Jesse can't lift for shit, and Adam doesn't care to.

[ who knows about gansey, and he hasn't seen blue try for it. thus, ronan's typically his only other work out buddy. sometimes, though, he's glad for him to be gone. times when this is less body upkeep and more anxiety purging. or attempting. ]

[ andyr brings a book bag along when they head to R1 to peruse the markets, looking moving to the more exotic places, areas andyr's come to know well in running the Moira Aquarium. adam's pond is less a ridiculous dream pond where nothing makes sense, and more a practical one, and that means getting the correct arrangement of creatures to fill it. something andyr's perfectly pleased to help with.

they wander through one of the various shops, andyr's arms loosing hooked around adam's hips, comfortable and affectionate, as they pass by tanks, and andyr examines the critters inside carefully. ]

So, what do you think you're looking for? Stuff that's cool to look at? Or easy to take care of? [ not that it's mutually exclusive, but it's good to have a main goal in mind. ] I mean, I'm gonna probably take care of it for you mostly, but, you know.

[ because andyr's obsessive about his fish like that. ]

Edited 2017-05-02 02:24 (UTC)

[ It's been a long time since Adam had gone to R1. He finds that he likes it, or maybe he likes being there with Andyr. There's a bit of weight that slips off his shoulders in being somewhere not so familiar, not layered with memories or echoes of something else. It was fresh. And Andyr's easy affection even though they're in public has Adam smiling the whole time. He's happy to stay close to him, dropping his head against his shoulder periodically as they walk around.

He really doesn't know much about fish or what he's looking for. After all, the modest pond that he'd built was for Andyr, to try and give him something even partially as good as he deserves. He knows it's really nothing compared to the others he already had.

The questions make him think, though and he lifts a shoulder. ]

I guess easy to take care of would be nice but I don't mind if they're not as long as you tell me how. They're mostly for you, you know. What do you like best? [ Adam's pretty sure his favorite, a pufferfish, is not a good choice so he keeps it to himself. ]

[ Every day is summer vacation here (except for the days involving freak storms, or lava monsters storming through the general area, but Matthew doesn't consider those experiences to be the norm), and as soon as he finishes his daily, largely self-imposed regimen of chores, Matthew is free to wander about and partake in any activity that catches his fancy.

Lately, that involves a lot of wandering around the farm with a sketchbook he dug up somewhere, but today while making the rounds, he finds himself distracted by the fish pond. He's seen it before, of course, but never made a close inspection, and all at once it seems necessary to do so. He begins by walking around the outside edge, accompanied by Boof the giant dream dog, both of them watching the fish, and then Matthew plops down to get a closer look. A minute later his shoes have been kicked off into the grass and he's dangling his legs in the pond, laughing at the way the fish dart and swim around his feet uncertainly. There are so many different kinds, different colors, their fins swishing and scales flashing through the water, and no one else around to command his attention.

By the time anyone else arrives, he's stripped down to his shorts and carefully slipping into the water himself to get an even closer look. Whoa, it's deeper than he thought, and he nearly goes under. Boof barks once and stands very close to the edge, unwilling to let his human drown himself, but Matthew pops back up a second later laughing as usual. ]

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STARTER: Adrien + Bucky, Ports cleaning

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STARTER: Declan and Andyr pump iron

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STARTER: Adam, fish shopping

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WILDCARD fish pond