maskormenacelogs | Open Catch-all!

[ Blue and Matthew are on party business. They left the house quietly enough, and by the time they reached De Chima proper Matthew was almost bouncing in his seat.

Since learning about Noah's death he's been a touch less of himself than usual, a bit more quiet, a bit less eager. But right now, with the prospect of a party in front of him, he's at his usual level of cheerfulness, maybe even a little more so. A party for Noah--this is something he can do, and planning it secretly is fun, too. ]

Whoa. [ He laughs a little. ] I never realized there'd be so many different kinds.

[ Different kinds of spray paint, is what he means. And indeed, when they finally find it in the large store there's a whole wall of the stuff. ]

[ Blue's happy to get out, to leave the house a little while. And it's fun to go somewhere with Matthew, especially on party business. This is good. She's told herself as much about ten times.

She's still telling herself as much when they come to a halt in front of the Great Wall of Spray Paint.

Blue's so tiny, she practically has to crane her neck to see the top row. This is like some kind of crazy paint haven or something. It's also exactly what they need. ] It does make you wonder why people seem to stick to the same few colors when they're defacing property.

[ She leans in, lightly tapping one of the cans. ] This one glows in the dark.

[ Matthew doesn't know much about defacing property, but he understands "colors" and"glows in the dark". He immediately directs his attention to that can. ]

Seriously? We have to get this one.

[ He reaches over and plucks the can from the shelf, rolling it in his hands a little. ]

Noah'd like it, right?

[ Spoilers: Blue doesn't know much about it either. Her primary criminal behaviors include trespass, breaking and entering, grave robbing, and murder. ]

I think so-- wait, are there any with glitter? We definitely need to get some with glitter.

[ She's leaning over though, to look at the can in Matthew's hands. ] Maybe both.

[ Is that all, Blue... ]

Mm--

[ He offers her the glow-in-the-dark can and tips his head to obediently scan the shelves for glittery paints. ]

Here's some!

[ A whole section of glitter spray paint. He starts eagerly grabbing colors off the shelf, filling up his arms. They're going to have to put some of them back once they've picked out the other kinds, but for now Matthew is just scooping up everything he can.

He wants this to be a good party. ]

Maybe we should get a cart.

[ Maybe. ]

[ That's all for now, sure. She's only 18. Who knows what kind of shenanigans she'll get up to before she's 20. ]

Wow, there's a lot. [ That wasn't even worth saying, Blue. ] Do you want me to get one while you keep looking...?

[ Somehow he seems kind of, hm. Absorbed? It would be a shame to drag him away while he's so focused on looking at their many, many options. Sure, some will have to go back, but that doesn't mean they can't get a pretty decent variety, right?

Right.

That barn won't know what hit it. (???) ]

[ Matthew will stick to the thoroughly legal shenanigans, himself. ]

Mm--

[ He actually looks at the wall, and then back into his arms, and then back up at the wall again before answering. ]

D'you mind?

[ Getting the cart, he means, and he's asking this sincerely. He doesn't boss people around. ]

I don't mind, Matthew. Keep looking, okay? [ She might've said no if she thought he was bossing her around, but nothing he says or said gives that impression. ]

I'll be right back. [ And she does an about-face toward the front of the store, ready to hunt down her "prey," as it were. It takes a little bit, because she wants to find one that's not wobbly. Somehow a wobbly cart full of metal cans sounds like a auditory hellscape.

But she finds one eventually and will head on back. Just give her a minute or two, Matt! ] How's this?

[ At this stage in the game, Matthew's looking a bit like the retail employee's worst nightmare. By the time Blue gets back he's started stacking cans of paint around himself on the floor, because there were too many to hold in his arms. The shelves aren't in great shape either--they just offered too many choices.

When she shows up with the cart he looks up from his tiny disaster and beams. ]

Great! [ And now he starts scooping the cans off the floor, tidying up after himself, showing her some of them before he puts them in the cart. ]

So definitely these-- [ glittery ones ] --and this-- [ glow-in-the-dark ] --and these look good. [ Gotta get some regular kinds in there, too, right? ]

[ The two younger Lynch brothers are unreliable in their own very distinct ways. Ronan is a brush fire and Matthew is a butterfly, and it's hard to guess which direction either of them might take at a given time.

Except on Sunday mornings. On Sunday mornings, they can always be found at the same place, in the same pew, because the Lynch brothers don't miss church even when things are messed up.

Matthew still isn't sure what happened; it's been three days and Ronan will barely talk to him, or anyone. He's so upset, Matthew can tell. They sit in silence, when Matthew isn't trying to sing along with the hymns. He doesn't fall asleep during the service this time, but he doesn't really hear it either. He prays a bit more earnestly than usual. He forgot to put on cologne before they left. ]

[Ronan sits through mass with the usual somber attention he pays every week. He's been here every day, sitting in the pew, thinking, quiet. He lights a candle. He lets the priest sit with him, he watches people come and go. This isn't St. Agnes but it's familiar in a way. Churches are all the same.

It's familiar enough that Ronan doesn't feel clumsy or out of place here.

At the end of service he takes communion and waits for Matthew, and undoes his tie at the door of the church.]

Noah fucked up.

[This means Ronan is ready to talk about it.]

[ Oh thank god, Ronan is talking to him. Matthew breathes a little sigh, his shoulders relaxing. ]

What do you mean? What happened?

[ Matthew drove today--he gets to do that as long as Ronan or Gansey is there to keep an eye on him--so his bright yellow Mini Cooper is parked cheerily in the lot. He lets Ronan take the lead, both in walking out and in the conversation. He really doesn't know what to expect. ]

[He frowns, looks up, away from Matthew for a minute. He doesn't know what to say.

He doesn't know what to do, either.

But he needs to tell Matthew something, otherwise Matthew will fret himself into a ditch.]

We got into a fight.

[That's true.]

You tell me you were wondering if you were real.

[ Well, Matthew had guessed the part about the fight. That's usually what happened when suddenly two people won't talk to each other or anybody else anymore.

But he definitely wasn't expecting the second part. In fact, it takes him a few seconds to switch gears, to understand even what Ronan is saying. Matthew, for his own part, has never even put it into words before, that niggling thought in the back of his mind. Possibly, he never would have.

He just stops, looks down, opens his mouth, closes it again, looks back up. ]

I didn't say that. Ronan, I never said that.

[ And if he were ever going to, he wouldn't have said it to Ronan, so how-- ]

But do you?

[Noah's always been a creepy little shit. He's known that he can finish people's sentences or reply to unasked questions.]

[ It's terrible, because Matthew doesn't want to answer but he knows he has to. ]

I guess--

I don't know.

[ What makes someone real anyway? It's too big a question for him to wrap his brain around, not for lack of trying. He picks his words carefully, slowly. ]

I know I'm different from you guys. But-- Look, Ronan--

Different how?

You're a perfectly normal kid.

[He says it stubbornly. It's not a lie. Or at least.

He believes it.]

What?

[ Most normal kids wouldn't fall asleep and never wake up if their brother died, but Matthew doesn't say that because saying it would require thinking about it first. He shrugs a little, helplessly. It's hard to explain.

But Ronan's belief is not totally lost on him either. ]

Noah told me some stuff. About how he's-- you know, that he died. [ He thinks he's telling his brother this for the first time. ]

I just didn't know what to do.

[ It felt like maybe he wasn't enough of something. ]

Yeah, I know.

[He bristles up, his shoulders rising. He's wearing a suit so it's not visible, but it's that thing he does, where the weird curls of his tattoo turn into barbs instead. Ready for war.]

You don't have to do anything.

[ Ronan is his brother, and Matthew sees the anger rising. ]

You're mad about it?

[ He drops his gaze again, still confused, trying to figure out how all the pieces fit together. ]

He's my friend.

Matthew, fucking, focus, will you?

[He's not dealing with Noah and Matthew's relationship right now.]

Why do you think you're not real? Is it because I-

[-dreamed you?]

[ Matthew looks up again, all round eyes and cherubic curls. A little brother spun from a dream at the whim of a child. Every moment of his existence is tied to Ronan's, every speck of light that shines out of him is one that Ronan created, every laugh and smile and sigh an imitation of something that existed first in Ronan's imagination.

Isn't it? ]

I don't know, [ he admits reluctantly. ] What makes somebody real, anyway?

Fuck it-

You're real because you think, haven't you read Descartes-

[Of course Matthew hasn't read Descartes. He knows that. But it came out anyway, snappish and annoyed.]

You're real because you're a person, Jesus Christ, and you wouldn't have fucking thought about that except that I fucking told you-

[He fucks this up, he always fucks this up. He's getting angrier and angrier. Declan was right and he hates it.]

Ronan--

[ Matthew's voice is almost pleading. He hasn't read Descartes. He doesn't know or care about Descartes but Ronan is getting upset again and that's not what he wants.

God, he never would have said anything to Ronan. Of course he'd--

He made Matthew. ]

Ronan, [ Matthew says again, reaching for his brother's arm. ] I just wasn't sure. But it's not like I'm mad.

[ He's never mad, of course, but that's just the word he lands on because trying to explain that he wondered what he is, yes, but that he never once came close to wishing that Ronan hadn't dreamed him, or even that he hadn't told him about it, is just too complicated. ]

I wouldn't even be here if you hadn't--

Is this about God?

Do you think God wouldn't want you?

[Ronan is grasping, reaching for something. Please don't be my fault is what has lurked in the back of his head for days now.]

[ That confuses him a little. ]

Huh? [ He shakes his head. ] No, I don't think that.

[ Everyone else loves him, and from what he knows he doesn't think he's given God any reason not to. ]

You don't have to wonder. You're real. Of course you're real.

[Ronan is furious, he's practically growling that.]

[ Ronan doesn't lie, so even if he's furious there's comfort in what he says. Matthew just wants to comfort him too; if Ronan lets him he's going to lean in and put his head on Ronan's shoulder like a child. ]

Okay, [ he says, and it sounds like a promise. ]

I'm sorry, Ronan. [ Please, don't think he wants to be someone else. He was just-- he was just being dumb again, probably, not thinking things through. Ronan's always trying to get him to think things through but it's just not his strong point. ]

I'm glad you dreamed me. I really am.

[ He really means that. ]

[He's quiet for a long time.]

Let's go home, okay?

[He's not all right. Not yet. But he tolerates the closeness. He presses a hand against Matthew's head, comfortingly, for a moment.]

[ It's enough. Matthew closes his eyes for the moment the touch lasts, and then pulls back. ]

Okay.

[ He looks at the ground for a moment, hesitant, and then-- ]

I was thinking maybe we could get Noah, while we're here.

[ It's a very long shot, like asking his brothers to go anywhere together besides church, but he kept trying that too, back home. He doesn't really expect much. ]

I have to go home.

[He says it with conviction. He does. He has things to do, and those things involve Adam Parrish.]

You can come get him after you drop me off. Or I'll take a taxi.

[ Matthew's meeting up with Kitty today, because it's summer and he has free time and he spends that free time doing things with people he likes.

Also he has a list. Specifically, a list of all the weirdest animals he could think of. Kitty has been incredibly indulgent of him so far and this is the kind of thing she can expect as a result.

He's waiting for her at the agreed-upon spot in De Chima, bouncing a little on his heels, and looking around for her human form. ]

[ Good luck with that. Kitty does not, of course, approach him in her human form; there'd be no fun in that. Instead, when she spots him, she's a sparrow, and decides this would be the best way to greet him: she flutters down as a sparrow, perching atop his curly hair and caroling at him: ]

Hullo, Matthew. Lovely weather today, wouldn't you say?

[ Matthew is still kind of used to this "birds in his hair" business; it was inescapable when he first arrived, and Ronan's powers would bring half a dozen happily chirping birds down on him every time he went outside when his brother was around.

But those birds didn't talk, and it takes him an hilarious second or two of confusion to figure it out. Matthew has never been a very bright one. ]

Kitty! [ he laughs her name after a moment, peering up through his curls as though he could catch a glimpse of her on his head. ]

What kind of bird are you?

[ He enthusiastically forgets to answer or ignores the question about the weather, when her power is so much more interesting to talk about. ]

[ Kitty, of course, never has any complaints about talking about her power, and showing off her power, and being admired for her power. She laughs in response - ]

A sparrow! The boldest and most charming of birds.

[ And then: ]

Hold out your hand so I can land on it. I don't want to pull out your hair by accident.

[ Matthew beams, and lifts his hand up far more promptly than his player replied to this tag. ]

I like sparrows, [ he tells her, pleasantly anticipating the light, prickly feel of bird feet on his hand. ]

Too bloody right you do. Everyone likes sparrows. Look how sweet we are.

[ She settles down on his hand, and then pecks (quite gently) at his hand - a teasing little pinch. ]

So how are you?

[ He laughs again at the pecking, thoroughly unoffended, and lowers his hand so that he can see her face-to-beak. After that he's careful to keep his hand still, giving her a steady perch. ]

Good, I'm good.

[ The last month or so has been pretty intense--he was seven for a while, found out that Noah is dead, accidentally made Ronan really upset by wondering about how real he is, and that's saying nothing about the Fourth--but he still smiles at her, and doesn't feel like he's being dishonest. ]

How about you?

[ She spreads her wings and flops down in his palm with a heavy sigh, an imitation of someone swooning with frustration. Only tinier. ]

Ugh. Sometimes things are so annoying for me.

[ He blinks and his expression changes to one of puzzled concern. She's cupped in both hands now, and he draws her a bit closer. ]

Did something happen?

[ Dramatically: ]

Yes. People were arseholes.

How were they a-- [ He reconsiders using her exact word choice. ] What happened?

Well. Do you have a rumblr account?

Open Catch-all!

Blue; De Chima; backdated to June 30th

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Ronan; De Chima; July 3rd

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Kitty; De Chima

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