[closed] man you really freak me out

[lavelly]

Who: Lavellan, Chara, Cole
When: Sometime near the end of May for Chara, [RASPBERRY NOISE] for Cole
Where: Normandy Securities office and Elfhaus
What: Lavellan is bad at children and also investigating
Warnings: Every character involved is their own warning label
[ 01. chara ]

[Lavellan has only met Chara in passing--being coworkers is the only thing they have in common, and Lavellan has a lot of other reasons not to want to associate with someone like Chara. Mostly because he's not that comfortable with even well-adjusted small children, which Chara decidedly isn't.

But the recent events make it unavoidable. All Lavellan knows is that Chara is the one truly responsible for tampering with the Ingress, and yet Shepard is the one that took the fall for it. That had been over a week ago, and there's still no sign of her. So he'd gone to the intermediaries, and while they couldn't give him any of the information he'd really wanted, they had suggested that Chara had agreed to make Shepard a scapegoat.

So that's that. Chara may be young, but some things can't be left to stand. Lavellan wants answers and Chara is apparently the only one that can give them to him. He'd heard they'd been spotted squatting the Normandy office--which takes some gall, honestly, but at least that makes it easy for him--so that's where he goes.

It's open but dark when he enters, and it's impossible to tell whether someone else is even in there. He's starting to feel silly, but this might be his only chance to get an explanation, so he makes himself stay, and call into the dark entryway.]

Chara? If you're there, come out. I just want to talk.

[...No point in coming out weapons drawn. Yet, anyway.]

[ 02. cole ]

[He has no idea where all this is getting him. He has the deepening suspicion that it is in fact nowhere.

All he can find out in his poking around is that there's definitely something more unsettling when it comes to Savrii law enforcement than is obvious on the surface, but he could tell as much himself after his conversation with Chara. Everything he's unearthed is just circumstantial, and he's really no closer to finding out where Shepard is than he was when he started.

He's not used to making every effort and not getting any traction. It's times like this he almost misses the Inquisition, at least for the resources at his disposal. Very little had been hidden from him then.

He's so absorbed in reviewing his own notes that he probably wouldn't have noticed Cole even if he was a truly corporeal being and not a ghost playing at being human who can appear out of thin air as he pleases, but as it is he's very unprepared for being that badly startled.]

Comments

starting things off with a good ol cw self for self-harm lmao sORRY

[inconsequence]

[They're under the desk. Shepard's desk, actually, but who's going to care? Shepard certainly isn't! Shepard isn't here to care! And whose fault is that, exactly? Who's the one who's still here, despite everything?

Despite their best efforts, they Continue to be themself. Unfortunately. And despite their best efforts, this world continues to cling to them, making excuses for their nature, as if it were justifiable, and refusing to let them go.

No rest, as they say, for the wicked.

Nails scratch over skin in a rhythmic drag, scoring faint red across too-pale skin. Almost missing the swing and snap of someone entering the office, the subsequent call into the dark. Should recognize the voice, but don't. Maybe just don't devote the necessary energy to trying to. Stop. Keep scratching, at a brisker pace.

It hurts. It's meant to.

The urge to simply wait him out until he leaves is overwhelming. A co-worker of some sort, who doubtless knew Shepard, and hence - likely to desire some sort of retribution. Is he not?

He should. Anyone would.

It's that impulse that has them sliding out from beneath the desk, conspicuously red eyes peeking around the corner of their hiding place to glare at him.]

Spare me the prefacing. [The words emerge alarmingly calm. Not a tremor to be heard. Breathing easily. Not trembling in the least. They're doing - they've got everything locked away. They're fine. It's all - it's all fine.]

What is it you want, exactly?

that's the stuff

[lavelly]

[Lavellan is not here to pity them, but there's still something unsettling about how young they are. Not born from concern, it's just... disturbing. Lavellan doesn't like them much. This isn't notable in itself, as he doesn't like a lot of people.

He gives them a measured look before responding, keeping his voice equally calm. He's here for answers, not a fight. That's what he's telling himself. Chara may be bizarre, but a child is a child, and that means it's important for him to approach this the right way.]

I just want to know what happened. We both know Shepard wasn't responsible.

[inconsequence]

[He's already seen them like this, coiled beneath the desk like some awful goblin. But hiding - hiding would be worse. Implying they're afraid to face him. Implying they're afraid to face anyone.

They unfurl from beneath the desk, straightening. Small, tight adjustments to the lines in their clothing. The creases in their sweater. Smoothing the edges of their hair. Nothing out of place. Perfectly put together. Confident, contained, unafraid. Not a single shift or tremble to their tone.

And the eyes. Locked onto his.]

No. She wasn't.

[They will not hide from their sins. They are not above consequences.]

[lavelly]

[Lavellan leans against the doorframe in response, arms folded. The lack of light puts their conversation in a sharp, almost foreboding context. Lavellan would turn them on but he doesn't know how the light switch works, so he settles with his dramatic leaning.]

Care to tell me why you're here and she's not, then?

[As much as he tries not to let it, an edge of hostility creeps into his voice. As far as he knows--and all circumstantial evidence supports it--Chara threw Shepard under the bus for their own crimes. For all their crimes. Even Lavellan deserves to pay for it more than Shepard does--he might not have tampered with the Ingress himself, but he still took advantage of it. Shepard's only mistake was being too honorable for her own well-being, as far as he can tell.

He's mad at the whole situation moreso than Chara. Chara is a child, and children are selfish. But Chara is the only one here other than himself that can serve as a target, and beating himself up loses its potency after a while.]

[inconsequence]

You'd have to ask her.

[Privately, they're quite certain they already know why that is. Because Shepard is Shepard, voicing her disagreement with someone's methods while offering help in the same breath. Because there was a gleam of a small coin that she passed their way, as a memento. Because, maybe -

She didn't realize she would be coming back, at all.

Breathe. Breathe. If it seems that they are not, perhaps, breathing regularly as they should be, do not assume it to be some sort of slip on their part. It's nothing. Nothing at all.

He suspects, of course, that they are to blame. Well, why not, then? Why shouldn't they be?]

They didn't want... [Breathe. Eyes flicking shut. Too late, they realize their fingers have sunk into the fabric of their sweater at the adjacent elbow, bunching it together, knuckles blanching. Their carefully cultivated mask falling apart in fragments by the moment. Useless. Always, useless.]

The intermediaries were not searching for a confession, when they...

[Ha ha.

They can't even say it, can they?]

They knew what I'd done.

winces

[lavelly]

[He should feel bad, maybe, that he's causing Chara obvious distress by asking this. He doesn't. He is not, particularly, a very good person; surprise.

He could put a hand on their shoulder, maybe, offer a smile, give them some kind of assurance that Lavellan isn't angry with them. He can't, because it wouldn't be true. Instead he sighs with irritation when Chara trails off and massages the bridge of his nose.]

Yes, you feel very guilty about your part in her arrest, I understand. Though not enough not to have agreed to it in the first place, I suppose? Or are you just having a crisis of conscience, now that it's turned out to have real consequences?

[Because that's what the intermediaries implied had happened, and why would they lie?]

[inconsequence]

[It makes it easier. The stern tone, the patronizing slight. He has made his judgment, and he expects them to fall into the parameters of said judgment. It is not entirely unwarranted. Are their sins not profound and immeasurable? Did they not poke the sleeping dragon and request that it devour them whole?

It is precisely what they expect. What they deserve.

And their gaze locks to his, violent and intent.]

They were my consequences. Mine to bear, alone.

[The words nearly emerge a snarl. They reign them back. They're too bold, too vicious, too uncontained, always. Alwas in need of being put in their place, are they not?]

She had no right.

[lavelly]

[His brow furrows. As frustrated as he is, and as much as he wants to take it out on someone, something of what Chara is saying isn't adding up. He'd thought that Chara had agreed to have Shepard go in their place, but... they seem as angry about the situation as he is.

Lavellan isn't any stranger to guilt, but this doesn't feel like the same animal. Still, better to hedge out the discrepancy himself before admitting to anything.]

You're telling me it was entirely Shepard's idea.

[inconsequence]

I have no idea. [The final word is spat out, furiously. Finally allowing them an outlet that is recognizable, even acceptable; every shred of fear and doubt and the juddering thing that might once be recognizable as panic abruptly and intensively metastasizing into anger.]

We were taken - used - in two separate rooms. They were fully prepared to enact the consequences for my actions. As was I.

[And then.

One hand works its way into their pocket. A fist clenched tightly around a small gleaming coin, a disc they don't dare draw into the open. That alone indicates unrest on their part, that some piece of them is unbalanced, at odds.]

And then. [Speak up, child. Don't stutter. Don't misbehave in front of the adults. Don't you know, child, that they know best for you?]

They informed me that Shepard had confessed to - to orchestrating the crime. As if she were the influence that poisoned me into acting so rashly! As if she could mastermind the entire ordeal, and I were simply her pawn, as though I was not asking for whatever they had in store!

[...




...are they even still talking to him?]

[lavelly]

Chara.

[He can't ignore their agitation anymore, and more importantly they've stopped making any sense, so he puts his hands on their shoulders like he can anchor them to here and now that way.] Stop. Calm down.

[And he's sure, now, that he's wrong about something. This isn't the behavior of someone trying to make excuses for themselves, it's the behavior of someone trying to rationalize something that doesn't make sense. That's out of their control. Something he's intimately familiar with.

And there's something else. If what Chara is saying is true, then Shepard was trying to protect them from something. But what? The intermediaries had said all they do is talk.

And yet Shepard's been out of contact for days.]

Start over. Can you tell me exactly what happened?

[inconsequence]

[Ha ha, stop it, Chara! You're being weird! Throwing a tantrum! Putting people on edge, making them feel uneasy! Their other hand starts to scratch at their arm again, steadily, clawing at the skin, peeling it in reddened marks beneath the cover of their sleeve. It's -

Grounding. Stop and start over. Listen to the adults. Haven't you broken things enough? Taken too much, too fast, and spilling everything across the floor and ruined it?

Their smile is frozen, a strained rictus glued to their features. They can't look at him when he's like this, when they're like this, when he's being so insufferably, immeasurably calm. He should be blaming them! Telling them what a horrible, twisted little fiend they are! How badly they messed up!]

The intermediaries. They...

[Stop. Where, now, is the eloquent demon, the silver-tongued manipulator who masterminded the fatal Plan that ruined the crown prince of the Underground? Where is the thing that never hesitates, never flinches, never blinks, stands always poised and ready to deliver the verbal coup de grâce?]

They separated us. I anticipated - [Breathe. Breathe. Smile, as though nothing is wrong. Because nothing is wrong, surely.]

I am not above consequences. If the slavers would not suffice, the Savrii would. She was already there, when they informed me that I was to stand down and rescind my weapons. Why they took her, I -

[The scratching burns. They do not stop.]

She was never meant to be there.

[She was never meant to enter the equation at all.]

[lavelly]

Chara!

[He didn't ask for rambling, and his patience is already fraying. He can't help but give Chara's shoulders a sharp shake when they begin to unravel further.]

Leave that aside for now. We can talk about who deserves what later. I just want to know what they did and what they told you.

[He breathes in and out, trying to keep himself calm in the face of this. Difficult when Chara's being more agitated by the second, and despite what they might think, he wasn't all that composed to begin with himself.

And he doesn't want to make promises yet, even with the impulse already forming in his mind. But if it has any chance of keeping Chara together, maybe he can risk getting ahead of himself a little. He kneels on the floor so that they're at eye level, and searches Chara's face until he can make eye contact again.]

I want to help her if I can. But I don't know anything of what went on or where she is. The only one who might know anything is you, so I need you to give me whatever you have.

[Then he exhales, almost a sigh.]

It's your chance to make it up to her. If you help me, I promise I'll do whatever I can to fix this.

[Because there's still a possibility this is a misunderstanding, right? Maybe the Savrii will just listen to reason once he has all the details.]

[inconsequence]

[They snap out of his grasp at once, trying, trying not to quiver on the spot as they recoil, several feet back. No one touches them. No one tries to hold them in place and give them their due. They know what it is they deserve, but no one, no adult, latches onto them like that.

They have to retreat.

The urge to be away from him is almost overwhelming, pressing at the back of their throat, at the edges of their fingertips, at the pit of their heart. Their gaze locks to his, unblinking, their breath low and sharp and altogether too rapid.

Were they more composed, perhaps they would acknowledge that he, too, is fraying. But he is an obstacle to be confronted, an encounter to be defeated, a looming silhouette that knows best for you and will not stop until it wrings out what it wants from the demon before it. The humble servant who should - who must - follow to the utmost.

Be good, won't you?

Ha.

As if that were ever possible.]

They get into your head.

[The information is delivered crisply, halting. Still, they do not look away. They refuse to, on principle. They will stare him down if they must.]

I could not FIGHT. I could not think. I could do nothing but sit and listen to their incriminations. [Like a good child.] They knew full well who was to blame.

Until they saw fit to inform me that such was not to be the case.

[And still, they could do nothing.]

They would hear nothing from me.

[But why should that have surprised them?]

im going to try to improve my manners (yes, everyone is my friend!)

[seity]

[Cole watched both the elves he lived with. He had never shared a space before and he wanted to learn how. He knew when they woke up, what they liked to eat for breakfast (Neriel ate the same thing as the squirrels in the trees) and generally, what they did. It made him feel calm to see the same things happen over and over. He tried to model it for himself, but he didn't want to eat, which seemed to be an important part.

He knew immediately when Something had changed. The past few days, Neriel had barely left his room at all. The first day was no alarm, because both of them sometimes wouldn't follow the order, but the third, no! They always went back by then. He had been told before not to come in without knocking, and he did his best to follow that, but that was when everything was happening how he expected it to.

It's a good time to not listen.

He lets go of the house and grabs it back again just inside of Neriel's room. Normally he'd be curious about what exactly is so important in here that he isn't supposed to see it, but the curiosity about what Neriel is doing is greater. He takes himself onto the beam above the desk and peers down, he's hoping the difference will show itself. But it's just a bunch of notes! It's hard enough for him to get letters to behave, harder still when they are all crooked and looped. It makes his brain buzz around in his skull and brings heat to the tips of his ears. Neriel knows how hard it is for him to read!

He shifts his own reality again, the force of his cross-legged body thumping into the desk whiffing papers off to the left, to the right, and right up into Neriel's face.]

What are all these words for?

[lavelly]

[Lavellan had become accustomed to Cole popping in and out as he pleased during the Inquisition, though he never quite became comfortable with it. But the Inquisition has been done for months, and Lavellan is hardly the same person now, and so he reacts far more dramatically to Cole's sudden appearance than he might have some time ago.

He recovers quickly, to his credit. He jerks back violently with a sharp inhale, but closes his eyes and focuses immediately on calming his breathing and slowing his rapid heartbeat before he speaks.

When he opens them again, he watches the opposite wall, rather than Cole. It helps him not to get worked up all over again. He's less successful at keeping the tense irritation out of his voice, but he's only one man.]

Cole, I seem to remember I told you not to come in here without asking.

[seity]

Yes! [He almost sounds excited to not deny it.]

But the fruit is rotting on the counter. Something is happening here. [Cole picks up a piece of paper that had managed to cling to the desk and holds it up to him, putting his notes on display.] You are making something happen.

[As much as the change worried him and the words confused him, he's happy. Neriel is being an Inquisitor now. He trusts it's for something good and he's excited at the idea that he might be able to help too. The daggers left their homes much less often now, but he still had them. He could still go where no one else could go.]

[lavelly]

[Lavellan only inhales again and takes the page from Cole's grasp, before he can continue. Cole's arrival came at precisely the wrong time for what he's doing.]

I am doing something in private, Cole. [The emphasis is deliberate. Though there's not much reason for it to be, aside from if he tells Cole the details then there's a chance Cole will tell Solas the details, and that is not an argument Lavellan feels like having. For several reasons.

Mostly, though, he's just tired of being jerked along every which way by this place. Let him do something on his own, even if it's stupid.]

[seity]

['Privacy' flows through one ear and out the other on a breeze. He's doing his best to think and act the way they do, take the same course to answers as they do, but it's still not his nature. Voices have a way of twisting things up into whatever shape their owner desires.

Cole slides boneless off the table and stands close to Neriel, quiet while he listens. He suddenly jerks his head down sharply, lips forming into a grave twist that is alien on him but a reflection of Neriel.]

Are you just having a crisis of conscience, now that it's turned out to have real consequences? If I am cruel to them, will they not see how cruel I am to me?

[lavelly]

[Anger flares up in him heedless of what Cole is actually saying, because this is exactly why he did not want Cole in his room or in his house or in his life. His thoughts and his problems are his own and he certainly can't address them with Cole calling attention for the whole world to hear.

(That's what he tells himself. Yes, he knows that he was cruel to Chara. Is there a point to dwelling on it? Is Cole telling him he should apologize? He's making up for it with this.

He jerks away from Cole and sets to gathering up the scattered papers, more a distraction than anything else.]

Yes, thank you, I'm aware I handled that badly. Do you want anything from me in particular?

[seity]

[Neriel's emotions rush through him hot and angry, snap along his nerves, make sharp electricity in his feet. But it doesn't scare him, he's felt it before. He is silent while he helps Neriel gather his thoughts back into a neat pile and steps back when no more lay on the floor. When he speaks again, his voice is soft with kindness.]

I must drink my own poison, I must gather every sharp thing into my own heart. Why? Why? It's not what you deserve.

[lavelly]

[It takes all his self-control not to throw his notes out of frustration like a child. He's caught between wanting to argue, because yes it is even though the logical part of him insists that makes no sense, and wanting to just make Cole go away because he is to worn out to press the issue.

He'd never been comfortable with Cole at the best of times, back home. Now is not the best of times, and he isn't at home, and he's finding his patience to be extremely limited these days.]

I don't need your help with this. All right? I appreciate the thought, but can't you go bother someone else?

[seity]

[The anger flares up again, this time his own. He brings his hand up to his chest, tries to knead out how unbearably tight and hot it's become. Living with them brings this feeling often, something he really doesn't like. Neither of them would let him help them even if they expressed the refusal differently. It gives strength to something hiding in the back of his mind, makes it bold enough to whisper:

haveyouevertrulyhelpedanyone?

It doesn't have enough for him to listen, but he still hates to hear it. He hates the edge it tries to sharpen onto his thoughts.

He forces it back with the remembrance there is always a path, he just has to find it.

Maybe Neriel just isn't ready yet.

It takes a few moments of silence for him to gather himself back up. He ducks his head down low to hide his stricken expression and starts to back out of the room.]

I'm sorry.

[lavelly]

[Lavellan closes his eyes and sighs the moment Cole turns away, regretting what he said as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Getting angry at Cole was like getting angry at a child, and it was arguably even less constructive.

And he does like Cole--well. He appreciates what Cole is and what he wants to do, even if he had never really been comfortable with him, even when Cole's insight had been blocked by the anchor. More importantly, Solas likes Cole, and by extension making him upset is the last thing Lavellan ever wants to do.]

Wait.

[It comes out weary, resigned. Cole is too sincere to have guilt tripped him on purpose, but the effect is the same.]

I'm sorry. You didn't do anything wrong, Cole, I'm just--on edge. You don't have to go.

[seity]

[The apology is completely unexpected. He's not... happy... the pendulum doesn't swing that wildly, but the scratching against his skull does stop. He comes back forward again, slowly, and settles once more on top of the desk, this time careful of any papers that might be looking for a second escape attempt.]

Do you... [he wriggles his fingers against his legs, trying to find the right words] what are you working on? [It feels strange coming out of his mouth. If he focused he could probably figure it all out without Neriel having to say a word, but there is a new voice in his head that chimes this is what people do. Which is what he ought to do, if he is people.]

[lavelly]

[Truthfully, Lavellan still doesn't want to tell him. But the fact that Cole asks, despite the obvious effort it takes him, even though he could easily take the answer without even trying--the fact that Cole is really trying softens his resolve. Cole is trying to compromise, which means Lavellan can, too.

After all, it's polite. And that's something else Cole needs to learn. He smiles mildly and waves the notes he's still holding.]

A friend of mine is missing, and I'm trying to see if I can find out where she went. The fewer people know about it the better, which is why I haven't spoken of it much.

[He pauses, and then:] Can you keep it that way, Cole?