Marsh || Steel Inquisitor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
myironeyes) wrote2014-01-16 09:44 am
myironeyes) wrote2014-01-16 09:44 am
Entry tags:
- apprentice pie person,
- big brother is watching,
- brighteyes bros,
- brood brood cluck cluck,
- lineface twin powers activate,
- look kel he totally has friends,
- marsh did not sign up for this,
- mind control is the worst thing,
- projecting like a dollar theater,
- skewers sadface mcgee,
- when did he acquire so many chicks,
- zane is totally stitch
Hedgeturtle Senior is mostly right-side-up again
[Public text + open spam, the afternoon of Iris's reunion with her bus]
There is fresh pie in the Dining Room.
[Or anyone could encounter Marsh in the stairwells or in the Dining Room itself, appearing in a stern swish of black shrouds to drop them off, one each, steaming slightly, at neat intervals. He needed to do something with his hands, and for once sewing felt insufficient.]
[Private to Kelsier, after Erik's post]
Will you go?
[Spam for Nathan, backdated to about 30 minutes after the joysplosion from Iris's bus.]
[He's not sure what he needs, except quiet, somewhere he can mark out the boundaries of himself, by walking them, in unspoken pain again, somewhere he can be alone among the pieces of his mind without being alone. So he goes to Nathan, and he knocks.]
[Private separately to Ben, Touko, Riddick, Zane, and Sylvanas, a few hours after, around midmorning]
Do you require anything?
[Which means, are you alright? Checking in on everyone he knows has a history or particular fear of mind control, excepting Arthas, who was publically disgruntled but otherwise fine, and Alpha, who Marsh still hasn't really forgiven, and probably never will.]
[Spam for Iris]
[Later, he finds the sticky note. That evening, in neat, tiny inked handwriting, he replies on the back with a verse from a lullaby.]
I
Sing to us, cedars; the twilight is creeping
With shadowy garments, the wilderness through;
All day we have carolled, and now would be sleeping,
So echo the anthems we warbled to you;
While we swing, swing,
And your branches sing,
And we drowse to your dreamy whispering.
[The adhesive is faded and on the wrong side anyway; he leaves it on the floor just outside her door.]
There is fresh pie in the Dining Room.
[Or anyone could encounter Marsh in the stairwells or in the Dining Room itself, appearing in a stern swish of black shrouds to drop them off, one each, steaming slightly, at neat intervals. He needed to do something with his hands, and for once sewing felt insufficient.]
[Private to Kelsier, after Erik's post]
Will you go?
[Spam for Nathan, backdated to about 30 minutes after the joysplosion from Iris's bus.]
[He's not sure what he needs, except quiet, somewhere he can mark out the boundaries of himself, by walking them, in unspoken pain again, somewhere he can be alone among the pieces of his mind without being alone. So he goes to Nathan, and he knocks.]
[Private separately to Ben, Touko, Riddick, Zane, and Sylvanas, a few hours after, around midmorning]
Do you require anything?
[Which means, are you alright? Checking in on everyone he knows has a history or particular fear of mind control, excepting Arthas, who was publically disgruntled but otherwise fine, and Alpha, who Marsh still hasn't really forgiven, and probably never will.]
[Spam for Iris]
[Later, he finds the sticky note. That evening, in neat, tiny inked handwriting, he replies on the back with a verse from a lullaby.]
I
Sing to us, cedars; the twilight is creeping
With shadowy garments, the wilderness through;
All day we have carolled, and now would be sleeping,
So echo the anthems we warbled to you;
While we swing, swing,
And your branches sing,
And we drowse to your dreamy whispering.
[The adhesive is faded and on the wrong side anyway; he leaves it on the floor just outside her door.]
[Private]
I do not wish you to suffer more than you have, more than you will invite.
[Because they both need ownership of their pain, in different ways.]
It matters because it matters.
[Private]
My very existence is suffering. Your concern makes little difference.
[Private]
[But he can turn off his compassion about as easily as she can turn off her anger.]
[Private]
Yes. You do.
[Because there's no denying it. It would just be pointless.]
Was there anything else?
[Private]
I can make it hurt less, for a little while.
[Inquisitors rarely used soothing except to subdue Koloss, but the ability is there.]
I don't. Expect you to want that. But you should know the offer stands.
[Private]
No. [The single word is vehement enough that even missing the visual cue, he'd know her reaction.] It's all I have.
[Private]
I thought you might say so. But it wasn't mine to assume your answer.
I know that place. I know it seems endless.
[But it isn't, the implication he leaves unspoken because that's harder to argue with. It needn't be.]
And I will never touch your mind unless you ask.
[The offer will continue to stand.]
[Private]
[More than any of you realize. She's resigned herself to that fact.]
And I won't ask.
[Private]
[A Marsh opinion. Or perhaps simply a literal observation. It's more of an agreement than a correction, but not quite; it's something in vein of clarification, something that must be specified aloud because of his own exacting nature, more than to make a point.]
But having nothing else - that changes. Whether you mean it to or not.
[He certainly never sought it. And yet.]
It doesn't diminish the pain.
[He says this more as a comfort that a warning. It is theirs, it makes them up, is bound into every drop of blood. Rip it out and they would not be themselves anymore. But it is endless, after all, and so the worry over losing it - short of mind control, their mutual terror - is academic.]
[Private]
[She'd been passive on the Barge, and where had it gotten her? No where but seeing her futility. She fought an uphill battle only to tumble back down again whenever she neared the top. But she'd had her eyes opened at least. Instead of falling back down by sheer happenstance, she'd pull the boulder down on top of herself. At least then she was making something happen. She'd fall, and take something with her.]
[Private]
[To preserve what she's become, the isolation and bereavement. She's implied as much - and she cannot fight the battles she truly wishes, here. He doesn't think it suits her, even now, compounding what was once done against her will. But Marsh appreciates the distinction between forced servitude and deliberate desperation too well not to respect it in her, so it is an honest question.]
[Private]
[Not exactly a yes or no, but it's the appropriate answer. She'll resist this place forever if she has to, no matter what it costs her.]
[Private]
I understand.