Marsh || Steel Inquisitor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
myironeyes) wrote2015-03-05 11:17 pm
myironeyes) wrote2015-03-05 11:17 pm
Entry tags:
- big brothers bad choices club,
- brood brood cluck cluck,
- dramatic yet unhelpful,
- journey's end,
- no crying you don't have eyeballs,
- oops i apocalypse club,
- phoenix rousant a bright shield,
- shattered soul club,
- sorry about the evil puppet thing,
- take care of my kitchen ducklings,
- why does she call him norman tho,
- zane is totally stitch
(no subject)
[Public, video]
[Marsh looks, if possible, even more grave than usual. He looks very tired.]
Kara Zor-El's door appears to have reverted to barge standard.
[His mouth pinches, and then he takes a breath, as though to say something else - but he doesn't. The silence stretches, for a few more seconds.]
I will be leaving the barge and returning to my own world. Shortly.
[Private to Luna]
I would like you to consider taking my place as Kitchen Supervisor for the dinner shift.
[Spam for Zane]
[He's there when Zane wakes, as they lurch and rumble and sail away from Karazhan. He couldn't go back, of course, not like Iris did, would be more a hindrance and a danger than any help, as much as he hated to watch her descend again. But Zane, at least, was here, safe. He makes tea with shaking hands, and keeps vigil like he once had for Kelsier. It feels like it was very long ago.]
[Spam for Cassel]
[A knock on his door, the day after their return.]
It's Marsh. I have. Something for you.
[Private to Jean]
[Heavily,]
Thank you.
[Spam for T'Pol]
[It's in the middle of one of their irregular - by barge necessity - sewing lessons, after they've settled into the rhythmic silence of practicing a new technique. Without looking up, or any particular emotional inflection, he murmurs,]
When we were small, you asked how I knew about allomancy, if it was supposed to be a secret.
My mother was skaa, but my father was noble. It was very illegal.
[Private to Dean]
I apologize for my actions.
[Private to Clementine]
When you are done here, I hope you will visit me. I think you might enjoy meeting my god.
[Private to Sylvanas]
I hope someday you find peace in a manner that suits you.
[Private for Iris, backdated to right after the Pacific Rim breach]
[The first few minutes, after the spikes come back to him, are alway a special sort of excruciating. He sprawls on his chair, tries not to shudder, tries not to whimper. Later, when the fog of pain retreats just slightly, clears a space for thought, the rest seeps in, Zane's baby toes and the white-hot meld of drifting and Iris, a life with Iris, in patches and screaming and tight knuckles holding on, the smell of her hair, the slow march of lines on her face and the way he knows each one. Knew. Knew each -
- it's something. And he doesn't know what to do about it at all. He opens a voice channel, because he loves her too much to let it make him a coward, has no idea what to say.]
Iris...
[It comes out raspy and tender at once, more than he meant it to. Did you win, he thinks, even though he was watching everyone's progress when the breach ended. They regaled each other so many times.]
[Marsh looks, if possible, even more grave than usual. He looks very tired.]
Kara Zor-El's door appears to have reverted to barge standard.
[His mouth pinches, and then he takes a breath, as though to say something else - but he doesn't. The silence stretches, for a few more seconds.]
I will be leaving the barge and returning to my own world. Shortly.
[Private to Luna]
I would like you to consider taking my place as Kitchen Supervisor for the dinner shift.
[Spam for Zane]
[He's there when Zane wakes, as they lurch and rumble and sail away from Karazhan. He couldn't go back, of course, not like Iris did, would be more a hindrance and a danger than any help, as much as he hated to watch her descend again. But Zane, at least, was here, safe. He makes tea with shaking hands, and keeps vigil like he once had for Kelsier. It feels like it was very long ago.]
[Spam for Cassel]
[A knock on his door, the day after their return.]
It's Marsh. I have. Something for you.
[Private to Jean]
[Heavily,]
Thank you.
[Spam for T'Pol]
[It's in the middle of one of their irregular - by barge necessity - sewing lessons, after they've settled into the rhythmic silence of practicing a new technique. Without looking up, or any particular emotional inflection, he murmurs,]
When we were small, you asked how I knew about allomancy, if it was supposed to be a secret.
My mother was skaa, but my father was noble. It was very illegal.
[Private to Dean]
I apologize for my actions.
[Private to Clementine]
When you are done here, I hope you will visit me. I think you might enjoy meeting my god.
[Private to Sylvanas]
I hope someday you find peace in a manner that suits you.
[Private for Iris, backdated to right after the Pacific Rim breach]
[The first few minutes, after the spikes come back to him, are alway a special sort of excruciating. He sprawls on his chair, tries not to shudder, tries not to whimper. Later, when the fog of pain retreats just slightly, clears a space for thought, the rest seeps in, Zane's baby toes and the white-hot meld of drifting and Iris, a life with Iris, in patches and screaming and tight knuckles holding on, the smell of her hair, the slow march of lines on her face and the way he knows each one. Knew. Knew each -
- it's something. And he doesn't know what to do about it at all. He opens a voice channel, because he loves her too much to let it make him a coward, has no idea what to say.]
Iris...
[It comes out raspy and tender at once, more than he meant it to. Did you win, he thinks, even though he was watching everyone's progress when the breach ended. They regaled each other so many times.]
[Spam]
They are leashes, the spikes. On the soul. I don't know how much you felt of that. I did an Inquisitor's work for many years, as I would have done Karazhan's, if I were not stopped.
[The guilt isn't crushing, anymore, isn't choking or poisonous. It is simply as solemn and heavy as it ought to be.]
So I cannot stay here, and put you all further at risk. And someone must keep vigil there, to safeguard what so many sacrificed to bring about. The task is important to me.
[Spam]
But his words pull her back to the present, and her eyes narrow thoughtfully.]
Was that your deal? To better your world?
[Spam]
The work was done there, over many years. I saw the Lord Ruler slain, and all the Inquisitors but me, and all the bloodshed and hope and madness that followed. I have seen the very gods dissolved and decanted into - a kind man, a nervous and gentle one, who was my friend. Who remade the world, who turned the plants from brown to green, and the sky from red to blue, and made flowers bloom again, for the first time in a thousand years. Sometimes it seems like it must have taken a miracle - several - and perhaps it did, but they were not the Admiral's.
That new god suggested I needed time away from - him, and the young world, and all of the reasons I despised myself. I would have made a deal for my brother's life - he died in the first efforts of the last rebellion - but he came and made it himself before C'Rizz graduated. So I gave my deal to him.
[Spam]
She's not sure she cares about Marsh's world or his deal either, but she does remember a child who looked Human and treated her better than any had before him.]
And now you no loner despise yourself.
[Spam]
It makes no difference to the damage. I have many debts to pay. But it makes a difference to me.
[Spam]
When are you leaving?
[Spam]
[He wouldn't want to leave the kitchen to just anyone. Certainly not to the Admiral's no doubt contrarian decision.]
[Spam]
[She's not sure how to react to that: her impression of the girl is that she's a child and easily distracted.]
[Spam]
[An actual question.]
[Spam]
[She doesn't bother with subtlety. It's so much more natural to just allow herself to stab at the meat of an issue.]
I doubt she has any qualifying experience. [which is said wryly because who does.]
[Spam]
[Who indeed. He doesn't comment on her age. He's vaguely aware that being a preteen parent warped his feelings on the matter, but she'd still be considered grown if she were skaa, and expected to do a grown woman's work.]
If need be, you should teach her.
[Spam]
I work for you to fill a portion of my day. I don't concern myself with the product.
[Which is not entirely true, because really, she never does anything half assed.]
[Spam]
[Or perhaps a perk, telling a human what to do and how.]
I will do my best to tell her the essentials, but no doubt she will still need some correction.
[Spam]
Will you leave some of your sewing supplies with me?
[Spam]
[He's surprised at the request, but he smiles.]
Yes, alright.
[Spam]
Also, when you're in a pinch a needle isn't bad to have.]
I have a personal question.
[Spam]
[Spam]
[Spam]
Maybe he would have done, when he realized she'd deceived him. Maybe not. They did quite love each other, as far as a child could tell.
I'll never know. They were both executed.
[Spam]
[Spam]
They hunted us for decades.
It was our existence that was the greatest crime. That's what our father was killed for. Not sleeping with a skaa woman, but failing to kill her afterwards, to prevent the possibility of halfbreed children.
[Spam]
It isn't so unfamiliar a situation, really. She wishes it was.]
He knew of your existence?
[Spam]
He doted, even. He just didn't know she was skaa. There aren't visual differences.
[Spam]
[She doesn't have many views on love but she knows enough about her own customs to find lies between spouses intolerable.]
[Spam]
[Not a way he's thought about it before.]
[Spam]
[Spam]