Pull point plot!

[vorbarra]

WHO: Vorsoaps family and others.
WHERE: Probably mostly DC#7, but all over.
WHEN: March 27 - April 6
WHAT: Ageswap shenanigans ahoy.
WARNINGS: None, actually, except for rampant spoilers for the whole series, most likely, so if you care about that sort of thing, be warned!

Comments

[dendarii]

[ Miles, meanwhile, continues on undaunted. He may not understand his older self's feelings either, but that doesn't mean he can't act on them. His younger mind just boils them down to their purest essence, the sense that he loves Gregor more than anyone else. Naturally the next step is to propose. And keep proposing, no matter what happens. He brushes completely that odd pressure he feels across the link. ]

Can too. Do on Beta Colony all the time. And you're the Emperor, so you can just change the rules!

[vorbarra]

No-- no, I can't.

[ There's a hard lump coalescing in his throat now, painful and swollen, that he has to speak around. Gregor's feelings for Miles do not distill neatly. ]

I'm more subject to the rules than anybody else. [ Desperation creeping in, beating his normal melancholy as he says things like this. He casts about for some further protest that might sink in, and latches onto the first one that arises: ] Your mother. She said I marry someone, in the future. A woman who wants to marry me. I can't marry someone else.

[dendarii]

[ That slows him for a moment. Miles likes the idea of having a wife too, after all, and if Mother said something ... He frowns a bit as he puzzles through it. ]

Is it Kitty? I like Kitty. You can keep her if you want, I don't mind.

[vorbarra]

Kitty's not from our dimension, so n--

[ Mental screech to a halt. His mindscape wipes clean. ]

You don't mind?

[dendarii]

Wouldn't be fair to Kitty. She was your girlfriend first. So she gets to stay!

[ He's brightening again over the link, certain he's just solved Gregor's problem for him. ]

[vorbarra]

[ That's not the problem. That's so not the problem. Gregor feels like he's standing at the top of a cliff, staring down a very long way to the bottom.

He just-- he needs to confirm something. ] You really want to marry me? [ he asks, enunciating clearly, still so far from his own words, fully removed. ]

[dendarii]

[ And here's Miles bright and excited and staring up at him, all nervousness pushed aside in favor of reaching out for the answer he's so sure he's going to get. ]

Yes, Gregor! Of course I do!

[vorbarra]

[ Even more distantly, ] Oh.

[ That odd feeling in his stomach... He vaguely realizes that it's nausea. Gregor always gets nerves like that when he's upset. He then goes on to realize that sometime in the past few seconds he's started climbing to his feet. ]

I... I can't. We can't. I'd-- [ Gregor doesn't know how he wants to finish that. He'd what, if they were married? What is it he's so convinced he'd do to Miles? And why would he be convinced? It doesn't make sense at all; all he knows is that his stomach is twisting harder, turning over. ] I have to go.

[ He can feel himself shutting down, an old, familiar reflex. All the emotion is draining away, water pouring out of a vessel, going... somewhere. Is it possible to go into shock from a marriage proposal from an eight-year-old? ]

[dendarii]

[ The first crack in Miles' gleeful anticipation is small but sharp. What is he feeling right now? Like he's going to be sick? Surely it isn't him, so is Gregor feeling like that? Because of him? And then there's that draining sensation, of everything seeping away ... it seems to take his warmth with it too. His expression wavers as doubt overtakes him for the first time. ]

You can! You definitely can! I'll be a great husband, I promise. It'll always be exciting, and - and we can go horseback riding, and -

[ The second crack is wider more desperate. He sees his proposee escaping and reaches out to grab his arm. Gregor leaving? No, no, that's all wrong. ]

-- Wait, where are you going?

[vorbarra]

[ Feeling Miles internally crumple, like something stretched too far whose faultlines are starting to show, makes Gregor cringe. More drains away in response, the only way he can get through this, the way he's always gotten through hard things. Just turn it off.

He doesn't say: it's not you, it's me, although that's true. You'll be a great husband, and I'll be... awful. Swallowed up by the Imperium. There won't be anything of me left to give you. I don't want that for you.

And then Gregor simply cannot handle feeling that intensely about his tiny eight-year-old foster-brother and it really all shuts down.

He looks down at the hand on his arm, tries to use his other to carefully pry it away, not jerking. More articulately, ] You're nine. Eight. I can't marry you.

[dendarii]

[ He's crumpling faster now as the cracks appear in earnest. One leading to another, webbing out across his joy until there's nothing left of it but fragments. Gregor's quiet misery just worsens his own, which is surging up raw and loud in the wake of this. Gregor was supposed to be the one who would never reject him, wasn't he? The fact that marriage is a bit different from friendship hasn't occurred to Miles in the slightest.

He practically clings to Gregor as he retreats, trying his damndest to keep his grip. If he can just make Gregor stay then surely he'll come around. Right? ]

How old do I hafta be then? I can wait!

[vorbarra]

[ Right. Right. He can't fall apart yet. Miles couldn't deal with that, or more accurately, Gregor couldn't deal with Miles not being able to deal. ]

I'm not making you wait for me, [ he says firmly, mustering up every inch of Imperial strength he can. Gregor doesn't have a lot of that yet, but he has some, birthed from hours upon hours of sitting still and attentive through meetings and functions. ] Let go, Miles.

[ Why is it that saying this feels like something is shattering inside? He can't marry him, that's ridiculous on so many levels, and yet... ]

[dendarii]

[ Miles is pulling too hard on his fragile finger bones. A telltale little lance of pain goes up his hand - nothing broken, but something certainly will give way if he keeps pulling like that. He doesn't much care. ]

No! I won't, and you can't make me!

[ His tone is practically pleading, his expression somewhere between teary and pleading. ]

[vorbarra]

[ He feels horrible doing this to Miles, and then, immediately, feels even more frustrated. Why does Gregor always have to do the self-sacrificing? Not just for Miles, for everyone. He's the one who has to give up his entire life to be emperor, to be what everyone else needs-- he's the one who has to deal with Miles's emotional fallout instead of his own, because he's not as loud, not as pushy or insistent or bloody dramatic about needing it.

He doesn't break his bones from refusing to let go, so no one listens to him. No one ever listens to him, because he speaks so quietly. It's not fair.

An instinctive thought goes out to Cordelia, delivered with muted, nascent panic. I need your help. We're in Miles's room.

Out loud, he just doesn't say anything. He goes silent. He doesn't move. He doesn't want Miles hurting himself-- but he can't process this either, he just can't, he refuses to wholeheartedly. ]

[dendarii]

[ Miles doesn't get all the details of that, but what he can tell is that none of it is good. That silence, too, is telltale. One way or another, his lovely plan to marry Gregor and go off and be happy is rapidly falling apart. It's even dawning on him that Gregor doesn't want to do this. And if Gregor doesn't want to do this, then ...

Miles' grip loosens; then, he lets go entirely and take a few steps back. Not quite at the level of tears, but his emotions are a wild whirlwind of sorrow and rejection. Speaking of being bloody dramatic. But some part of him is quieting too as the reality of Gregor's response finally begins to sink in. ]

You don't want to.

[keep_nothing]

[ Cordelia was already halfway up the stairs when she heard Gregor's panicked plea, having felt both of their intense emotions across the link. She'd been downstairs with Aral and subtly listening over the link paranoid good parents do when Miles' plan started to fall apart.

She's already opening the door while she knocks, a worried expression with eyes darting to take in the room to see what happened. ] Miles, Gregor? What's going on?

[vorbarra]

[ Thank God she'd saved him from answering that question. Gregor doesn't know the answer. He doesn't want to know the answer.

Even better, Miles has let go, and his mother is here so Gregor's duty is discharged. She can handle Miles. She'll make him feel better. Gregor can't imagine how she couldn't, because his mother always did, and Cordelia herself wasn't a bad stand in. As his real mother she must be perfect.

He tries to find a coherent explanation for her but all that comes out is a miserable, soppy, ] Sorry, [ as he ducks by her quickly, taking advantage of the initial confusion to escape her and slip by. Gregor makes to leave the room, down the hall and the back stairs. He absconds the house itself completely, intentionally avoiding the front door since he'll have to go through the living room to do it and he suspects Aral is there.

And he doesn't want to see anyone. He wants to be alone. Where he can feel like he's going to throw up in peace. ]

[dendarii]

[ Miles is about ready to burst into tears. He can't really separate out his feelings properly - just a whirl of felt rejection and misery all tangled up into one. Well - well fine then. If Gregor doesn't want to talk to him, then he doesn't want to talk to anyone. He yells something intelligible as Gregor slips by and moves to slam the door shut. ]

Fine! Go away then! I don't care!

[keep_nothing]

[ What the hell did she just walk in on? She tries to reach for Gregor's arm as he slips by her but misses, and she turns back to the room to see if it would give her any clue—

And she sees the lights, pillows, the cream cakes ... and the ring on the dinosaur. Her heart sinks to somewhere into her stomach. Aral, get up here please, I need you to watch Miles.

While she waits for him to come up, she reaches for Miles, but expecting him to pull away with the signs he's showing of an impending, truly epic tantrum. ] Miles, love, calm down ...

[use_everything]

[While they've no supernatural connection, there is a certain pattern long-standing partners have that simulates it. Aral isn't long to the scene.]

How much blood is it?

[keep_nothing]

No blood, just broken heart. I need to follow Gregor.

[ And she's already out the door, searching for the blind panic from Gregor in her mind, reaching to see if she can figure out where he went ... ]

[vorbarra]

[ Gregor is an echoing pulse, a tinny reverberation of muddled disorientation and despair and glimmers of fraught love.

Which is to say, he hasn't gone too far, just B-lined for the park up the street, where he and Miles normally go when Miles is upset. Gregor finds it serves just as well for him. He huddles on a bench not too far into the park, the late evening bordering into night casting sallow yellow light from the pathway lamps. The stars are scattered across the sky up above the tree line, but Gregor isn't looking at them; he's curled his knees up to his chest and pulled his arms in tight, and he has his head tucked down, too, a miserable ball trying to swallow down all of his tumultuous emotions.

These aren't even his. They're adult-him's. The real Emperor, come into majority and everything. It's just not fair that he has to deal with them. ]

[dendarii]

[ No blood, though perhaps a physical injury might be easier to deal with. Miles dodges away from Cordelia's arms and nearly runs smack into his father. He zigzags away at the last second and dives under the bed instead. (Leaving the unfortunate blanket still more or less intact, if perhaps less cozy and pleasant without its occupants.) ]

Go away! You too!

1/2

[use_everything]

[Aral narrows the opening in the doorway... still uneasy with the feeling of a closed door. He doesn't bother to try fishing under the bed... you don't charge at a spooked horse, after all. Instead he takes his time, examining the scattered signs of what happened...

...

Good god. He'd rather have blood.

He'd KNOW what to do with blood. Was this a childish sentiment? An expression of an older on reprocessed? A fit that could be soothed or just one that needed to be waited out?? And damn her for leaving without even the first hint of what to DO with this...]

[use_everything]

[No... Every battle plan had a first move. Reorganize.. and calms, letting his own mental guards down, that calm easing past, unruffled by the misery emanating from under the bed.

He sits down on the floor, back to the bed, wrists on his knees... and prepared to snatch a collar should a small child bolt for the doorway. His tone is speculative, almost detached...]

Had I ever told you about how Vorpanis held off all three of his neighbors at once?