FEBRUARY MINGLE

[etrayamods]

WHO: Everyone!
WHEN: February 14th - March
WHERE: Etraya
WHAT: The arrival of newcomers, a mini mission, and some new city features!
NOTES\WARNINGS:

⏵ arrival ⏴ Welcome to Etraya! Arrival goes as expected - characters awaken on hospital beds and are offered an explanation of their situation: that they have arrived in the city of Etraya, and they are their world's only hope. They are welcome to wander the hospital if they would like to - the upper floors are mostly empty, full of pristine hallways and numerous rooms filled with supplies, cots, and things one would expect from a relatively average 21st-century hospital. In the hospital's lobby are several party tables set out with miscellaneous baked goods: croissants, cookies, breads, cake slices, as well as tea and coffee to accompany them - or hot chocolate, for those who are opposed to the other offerings. Outside the hospital, the last remnants of snow are melting in the sunlight as the weather begins to warm up. It's still chilly enough one might want to put on a coat, but not so cold a jacket is necessary for wandering around without freezing off one's fingers. We hope you enjoy your stay. ⏵ heroes return ⏴ As the Quantum Rail train glides to a halt, returning passengers step out onto familiar ground - the train station, right where they had initially begun their mission. When exiting the station, their earpieces vibrate, indicating the automatic download of a detailed map which highlights key locations, transit paths, and notable landmarks. As Aurora promised, she had been working on a few renovations around Etraya! A sleek trolley system now winds through Etraya, following clearly marked pathways through the city bubble to make travel across the city smoother. However, the trolley only moves one way, eternally following the loop Aurora has set it on. And because of this, it takes six hours to complete it's loop all the way around. Don't miss your stop! Pets and animals have been returned to their usual preferred areas, some awaiting the arrival of their owners, and others keeping to themselves in the forested areas throughout Etraya. Beyond the small upgrades, things seem relatively unchanged - until one familiar sign catches the eye. One marked by four vertical lines, methodically crossed out one by one: the final slash has now been drawn through. The tally is complete. What it indicates has yet to be made clear, but it has to mean something, right? No one would go through the effort of making an ominous-sounding sign without following through. ⏵ love in the air ⏴ This Valentines Day, Aurora and the companion bots have opted to try something a little different: they have scattered mystery valentines across the city. Hidden within mailboxes, tucked into cafe menus, slipped under doors, on the outside of high windows for those wall-crawlers to spot. There are countless of these little slips of papers, strewn throughout the city. And within each valentine, is a challenge or gesture to complete. Please feel free to make these up yourselves as long as they fit in with the theme! Some examples include: Deliver a flower to a stranger. Write a heartfelt poem for someone. Share a box of chocolates! Confess your feelings for another. Play matchmaker for two people - this can be platonic, or romantic! Gift a friend with a stuffed animal. Give five different people a genuine compliment. While not mandatory, completing five tasks will earn an individual an additional ten points to use towards anything they would like! Each little Valentine is signed "Your Secret Admirer. ♡", and some of them may even be addressed to specific individuals. Don't be surprised, Eddie, if you see one or two that are specifically addressed to you lurking around your collection of chicken friends! And while most of these are harmless, some of the valentines cards come with effects for those who come into contact with the paper. Perhaps they thought it was a piece of garbage, or were just kicking it out of the way rather than intending on taking part. It doesn't matter! They get to join in on the fun, too. Heart Eyes - your pupils literally turn into hearts for a few hours, making it hard to focus on anything other than things (or people) you find attractive. Love-Struck Stammer - You can only speak in poetic compliments or romantic declarations, regardless of whom you're speaking to. Chocolate Bliss - Everything feels good. Simple. Easy. As if there's nothing in the world to concern yourself with. You feel happy, without any concerns or worry. Rose-Tinted Vision - everything looks soft and romantic, as if you're in a romance novel. You know the ones. Magnetic Attraction - regardless of what you had been doing, you suddenly find yourself unable to leave the side of the person closest to you. Had you been eating chocolates while walking down the street? Well, have fun getting stuck to the guy who'd been out for a jog! Serenade Syndrome - you find it impossible to resist the urge to sing your words, turning all conversations into love ballads. Heartstrings - A thread appears, connecting you to someone close by who you share many similarities too. Perhaps you had never met this person before, but the threads tied around your pinky fingers that refuse to let go until you allow yourself to open up to them clearly means you should be a little more familiar with them. Love is in the air—or maybe just a bit of well-intended chaos! 💕 ⏵ NOTES ⏴ Welcome back from the mission, and welcome to Etraya for our newcomers! We've tried to keep this log simple for an easy introduction, as well as some downtime for our mission-goers who worked hard to solve the Quantum Rail mystery. There is something else going on, but. . . well, no one seems to know what! The computer that had been on the lower floor of the hospital is now missing, and Aurora may seem a little flustered as she flits around Etraya, in search of something. For all questions relating to this log, please refer to the mod queries comment. All other questions can be directed to the FAQ. ⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Comments

[cantilevers]

[He watched it rise towards the surface. Wasn't that just Silco's theme too? With his own life. With his near death. With Shimmer. With the Chem-Barons. Ready to rise to the surface? Like a fevered dream, those faint silken words could slither through his mind, entrapped by the fear of a father watching his daughter face down a monster and losing epically.

But it didn't slide passed those thin tightly smiling lips. No, Silco wasn't so easily baited on such an important and fundamental subject. After all, when had Silco ever stood higher than Vander? Stood over, yes but never higher when they were both active.

His own downfall was fresh enough to sting, seeing and experiencing what Silco's monsters would do to the Lanes, to the Undercity, to their people. A tool yes, but for an oppressed people desperate to feel powerful, he knew it would be a catalyst for interpersonal wars. The Chem-Barons had always been an entity of power with their gangs and their collections, but with Shimmer? That person that held the bigger monster would rule the underground.]

You so certain? You've spent a few encounters putting knives in my body. What's another?

[He had the healing injury on his left forearm to prove that point, bandaged though it was. Yet, as Silco leaned in, he shifted his cigarette to the corner of his mouth so there was no actual risk of a burn on the older man's face, and he refused to give ground on that point. No, their faces and bodies pressed closer together; he was aware of the smell of Silco's breath, the warmth from the man's cheek on his own, the shift of those legs under his weight.]

And what little lie will you weave to Jinx to explain my permanent erasure, hmm? She called you a liar on the train; we both know she's sensitive to untruths. [It was his turn to lean forward, his forehead resting on Silco's, the sides of their noses sliding against each other, lips a whisper apart. He felt the heat of their cancer sticks of choice.] Don't think I haven't set up people who will provide her my last words in writing. She's my daughter too.

[Vander operated differently than Silco. He invested in people, plans and opportunities. He brought people together, made friends, resolved interpersonal conflicts at times. His social and emotional intelligence rivaled his physical presence when he needed it to; he knew how to play the game to rival Silco. Unfortunately, Silco's game was shorter and easier to put in place; Vander was forced to play the long game to pull people in; he had to find and match agendas, personal interest and emotional investments.

So he remained exactly where he was, a physical presence holding back and holding together the layered reasons he wanted out of this apartment building in the first place.]

Why? Your legs going numb. Afraid someone might see us together and assume we have some kind of romantic attachment.

[zauneyete]

[ As fast as he came in, Silco was out, leaning back to look at him as imperiously as he could from his shorter vantage point. He made it work, somehow, but he didn't bother playing this game. He knew Jinx would worry about her other father. She'd be disappointed. Oh, she might even hate him. This is why he wasn't dead right this second.

No, Silco was careful, and he was patient. He would erode this if he could, carefully, quietly, cautiously. Silco had plans upon plans, upon plans. He didn't need the social cohesion that vander did, but that didn't mean he wouldn't manipulate it to his own benefit. Silco had his own way about him, it was just borne of Zaun's dark streets and back alleys. Bullies and thieves who spoke a different language, while Vander had tried to build something more traditional. Like them. ]

I want you off of me, because I don't want your hands anywhere near me.

[ Sneering, nasty. ] Just like I'm sure you don't want me near your back. Do me the courtesy and keeping away. Maybe then I'll tell you something honest.

[ Or maybe he won't. The man is like being haunted by a ghost he can't get rid of.

How long is he going to be haunted by this specter? Why hadn't death cured him of that?

Would anything? ]

[cantilevers]

[He didn't pursue Silco, letting the other man give ground physically. That had been much of their dynamic for many years, and once he remembered being the protective physical force and using his body to allow Silco to slide in and out of combat with a knife when they engaged. And he knew he used his physical body to contain the situation; it was a habit he was aware of.

Yet, his arms remained raised and resting his forearms on the wall above Silco's head. He had to do so to keep his weight leaned forward otherwise he might simply slip right off the slim thighs and knobby knees that he was sitting upon.]

My hands are above you and not touching you. That's what I'll give you, nothing more, nothing less.

[He shrugged his shoulders at the sneered words. When he had been high on Shimmer, there had been considerable assaults on his back and front, but it had healed immediately. He knew Silco could damage him, and he had not questioned why he didn't particularly care about it. The older man was by far one of the largest threats in any room.

He huffed, carefully dropping one hand to grasp his cigarette so he could tap off ash on the floor before returning it to his lips. All the while, he continued to watch Silco.]

I've spent a lot of years with you at my back. I miss that, even if I know it's never possible to have it back.

[And that was his honesty. He glanced at his pinky to see if it was enough to free him at least from the one curse. He still unfortunately wouldn't be able to be apart from Silco with the magnetic physical barrier. One down and they could wait out the other.]

[zauneyete]

If you missed it, you shouldn't have just tossed it aside, then.

[ He snaps. Here Vander was, still sticking close, inserting himself into the space, using his bulk and size to overwhelm enemies as always. Silco knows it, because he'd directed it over the years, he'd known the tactic, and yet it still fills him with that annoyance and fury, because he's being subjected to it. No matter how much it seemed to get him into trouble with Silco's daughter.

Jinx made him promise no blood, but she didn't make him promise no bruises and no burns. He puffed at his cigar, narrowing an eye at him. ]

If you don't want to end up burned, get off. [ He'll honor exactly what Jinx asked him, but more than that? Absolutely not.

He's starting to get a picture of that. That Jinx thinks that this — the two of them — are broken, and that it can be fixed. He can tell her all he wants that it isn't, that he isn't broken, that none of this is something that can be fixed because there's nothing to be fixed. (Deep down, there's a nugged of the truth, it settles in his stomach like lead in his belly.)

He tipped his head back, looking at him with one lazily half-mast blue eye. Like Vander wasn't worthy of his full attention. Of course, the other... it always burned. ]

Don't worry, if it burns, it doesn't bleed.

[ Getting real honesty out of Silco is like pulling teeth, of course. Everything he says is true, but that hardly makes it honesty. His slithering, snake-like words slip around the truth like obstacles, meshing with it as if they were all the same. ]

[cantilevers]

Agreed. [Vander's large shoulders shrugged like this was a perfectly normal topic of conversation. He even sounded as agreeable as the word he intoned. Conversational even.] What would it require to get you back like that?

[His expression remained curious, contemplative, but his eyes showed no interest in the fulfillment of that question. They had both caused the loss of everything they had been, him first then Silco. Both of them had suffered losing everything at the hands of each other, and he had no interest in striving for that regardless of his reasonable nature. If it had just been Lanes, he might, but his kids? No, he'd sooner put Silco back in the Pilt than entertain a scenario where he allowed the older man to cover his back like that.

He also didn't move. Not a single inch. The most that could be said about his current position was that he flexed his biceps as he leaned a little more on the weight of where his arms were resting on the wall.

The threat wasn't a bluff, he knew. Silco had never been the type to make a threat that the other man wasn't perfectly willing to carry out. He made a point of sucking a drag on his cigarette still hanging between his lips, the cherry end lighting up in a silent returned threat. Sometimes it was not saying the reply that made it a more potent response.]

The longer you dodge actual honesty, the longer I sit in your lap. This could be over, but things are never easy with you. The path of least resistance is just a weakness for you, I suppose.

[zauneyete]

[ He stared at him for a long moment, at the first question. Silent. He didn't even deign it with a verbal answer. He wouldn't, and he couldn't. If it had just been him, had just been his eye, he would have forgiven him, perhaps. He thinks it, even though it is clear from the fact that he is here that he is still so angry is a reminder of that old, festering wound. Silco could promise it, but the truth of the matter was that he hadn't. It had banked, yes, but he's reminded of it. Over, and over, and over and it stokes that old angry fire back to life.

Discounting the fact that he'd done the unforgivable. Tossed him aside, and made a deal with the very people who had pulled the trigger. He had made a mistake, their actions had been intentional. How could he forgive that?

So his eyes only just rolled slightly, because he starts going on and on about how it could just be easy, if he did what he wanted. As always.

He instead pulled the cigar out of his mouth. He tipped it in his fingers. ] I have two choices.

To simply tell you something real, or remind you that I am not to be pushed around simply because you want me to.

[ His lips twitched into a shark's smile, and he let the cherry of the cigar dance close to the edge of his shirt, right over the skin there. ]

You could have gotten off of me when I asked, but you refused. Who is being unreasonable here? Why, I might even be more inclined to honesty if I didn't feel boxed in by the man who tried to kill me —

[ This time, he does punctuate it with a jab of the cigar. It's slow, slow enough that he could dodge, if he wants. He would have to back away.

Jinx told him to call her, if Vander tried to do this again. Or Sevika.

He considers it, but he knows that doing so is a weakness, and he refuses to show it in front of him. Instead, he punctuates it with a language they both speak: dodging the spirit of the law for the letter. ]

cw: abuse (i don't even know)

[cantilevers]

[He didn't expect an answer, but it was interesting to watch the parade of subtle emotions over Silco's face. Most of it was anger and resentment, but he thought there may be something more under all the conniving fury and petty holier-than-thou that so often suffused Silco's demeanor around people. The bad blood between them had only grown since arriving here, lines in the sand drawn and crossed on both sides.

After all, if this came down to them being angry over the other attempting murder, they were at least even on that score. No, it was all the other transgressions. A part of Vander was already tired, worn from the battles because he wanted to return to being that man who was protector and pillar of the community, but Silco had dragged him back to a form that he couldn't stuff back in that box anymore.

He'd lost everything good in his life and regained the aspect of himself that could terrify everyone, himself included.

He made a soft humming noise at the choices, as if it were all told to him with a reasonableness of a normal conversation. He nodded his head, cigarette dusting ash down between them.]

Ah, so you're naturally go with option two. Stand your ground, be the big man, not let yourself give ground regardless of the circumstances. Just remember: that is your choice.

[He could feel the heat radiating from the tip of the cigar, and he was not intimidated by it dancing closer and closer to his skin. If anything, his eyes narrowed just enough to dare Silco to do it. He knew why too: Jinx told them not to bleed each other but burns didn't bleed. Circumventing the stipulation was just like Silco - and him he thought with chagrin).]

We've both being unreasonable. [He huffed a chuckle of mock amusement.] You're actually trying to pull the 'tried to kill me' card with me? You do recall the cannery, right? When you beat me, tried to and in some cases successfully killed my kids and killed me? Come on, Silco. At least throw the enforcer deal in my face.

[Vander did not dodge. His arms remained on the wall, his eyes intent on Silco's face as the cherry pressed to his skin. The burn made his arms twitch but he didn't move. No, his eyelids fluttered as pain suffused his system, and he fought all natural instinct to pull away. His lips parted in a soft 'ah' and he was reminded that this behavior was not as unusual as he might otherwise claim.

After a minute, he closed his lips and took a drag on his cigarette before leaning in to try to reply in kind to Silco's neck just at the edge of that shirt collar.]

man idek what these two are doing don't fuckin look in here cw more abuse i guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[zauneyete]

[ He has very, very carefully avoided that. You see, Silco is angry, he's always angry about that, but he's kept it relatively under control. He's managed to lob a barb out, over and over again, because it is the easy one. The one that they both acknowledge. The one that he knows that Vander regretted, or at least said he did. The admission of guilt leaves it as an open wound for him to poke and force to fester.

The other one... that is a wound that cuts only to him. It is what makes him rage, that rot that could fill and swallow him whole. Oh, he still was angry with Vander for the first, but the second made him rage, violent and angry. It's that open festering wound that he even now shields to protect — he can never actually shield it, it's worn on his face — the murder attempt was only part of it. The second was that it was him who he tried to kill, while the people who did the deed were rewarded.

Could he not see it? The stain of it? How that one choice would infect every high-minded ideal he had? He didn't want to fight? Fine. Let someone else do it for him. It was the fact that he used them, the very people who beat them down, kept them down, forced them into this very position — had killed her — Oh...

He doesn't even blink. Doesn't wince. He presses the cigarette to his neck, and Silco's already too angry to even feel it. It's in his eyes, it's in the way his lips peel back around chipped teeth, and the way his fingers very nearly snap his cigar in half. ]

Oh, you want me to bring up your real crime, do you? [ It's taut, like a tightrope. The control, that careful, oh so careful control is there. He's been obfuscating. Throwing that old chestnut about murder around because it is the easy answer. The one everyone can understand, without being given a lesson in history, in what it meant, the significance of it. He'd not thrown it at Vander, because he didn't feel he needed to. Not right now, not until he was ready. He wants to drag it out, does he? He wants honesty? Well. Perhaps he could have it.

He didn't care that he took the man's life — he asserts to himself — that was his due. He didn't kill his children — that was Jinx — and yes, perhaps he would have put them in his factories, or even kept them separate, as long as they complied. He didn't care about them, that replacement family that he'd used to fill the hole left by losing part of the one he'd had before, and throwing away the other one. ]

You want me to remind you that the very people who beat us, kept us in those mines, who wanted nothing more than an excuse to mow us all down like animals — those people — were the reasonable ones that you thought were worth dealing with?

[ Oh no, this is too close. This has the danger of being too honest. There's a spark of it, somewhere beneath the rage — and oh there is so much rage — like looking down and seeing the barest flash of something else amid the shadows hidden by murky water. This time, he reaches out with his cigar, and starts to press the cherry against his exposed collarbone, pushing it. Putting it out.

There's the smell of burning flesh. His nostrils flare. ]

You want honesty, do you? Very well. [ His lips peel back. He turns his back on the real truth, as if by even brushing it, he turns it aside. Unwilling to examine it further. There is a part of that he cannot, will not hold in hand. It is too dangerous, too fragile, and far too much like handing Vander the handful of broken pieces he'd already taken off of him when he'd done what he did. He holds those back, and buries them back down. Forces them deeper into the water. ]

Here is something honest. I hate you.

You are like a ghost that will not leave. If you would do the decency to extricate yourself from my presence, I would be all the more satisfied, but you simply cannot handle that, can you? You want to insert yourself into my business? My family? [ It is just them. It's all he has. ] By all means, I know you will. But I will make you pay tenfold for each and every offense.

That is a promise, and a truth. If that does not satisfy this thing, then go around the corner and stay there until it leaves, and don't force me to deal with you this close again. I will weather Jinx's distaste if you do not leave, and I am forced to make you.

cw: mention of murder, abuse, suicidal hints - these two are a hot mess. don't look

[cantilevers]

[Vander already was fully aware of his real crime. He had lived that crime for years, but at the same time, he had been there when it happened, when he had made a choice between complete destruction or saving what little they had left. While he liked to think he did it for her memory, he also knew it was a delusion. He had done it for him because the alternative was a fate he couldn't endure for as long as they would have made him. He had already been on the tipping point, ready to die, denied and threatened with far worse.

He took the lifeline. He let the proverbial collar settle on his neck, the leash held tight in Grayson's hand and from there, he had done what he had to in order to build what he could out of the ashes of that day.

Benzo was the only one who knew. Benzo who had been waiting on the docks when they dumped him back in the Lanes, collected him up and taken him to the shop and offered nothing more than a stiff drink and a change of clothing. Benzo who died in the streets with all of Vander's blasphemous secrets, defending him from Silco who had come for his due.

No.

Vander knew what his crime was. He knew it better than Silco did, the full grimy, filthy, damning details.

Yet, he could see the rage in the older man's face. There always came a point when the true depth of Silco's anger showed and it was in the other man's eyes. Not that damaged, raging orange one but the blue. That was always the key to know where Silco's mood truly lay, the depth of his fury and the pure hatred that lurked behind the twisted narrow sallow face. This close, Vander could stare right into the hurricane that was Silco's rage, but at the eye of that storm, he saw it too: the hurt.]

Oh Silco... [He spoke softly, almost wistfully, and he shook his head.] You don't know the half of my crime then. You think I made peace with them willingly, do you? I had no choice, but... I did it anyway, yes. That's my crime, but if you want to accuse me of that transgression, maybe someday I'll even tell you the nitty gritty details of the ultimatum.

[His cigarette had been extinguished against Silco's neck, though he kept holding it at the corner of his mouth. He didn't fight when Silco purposefully pressed the cigar against him, a shudder running down his spine as renewed pain flared through his nerves. All survival instincts went ignored as he let the older man burn him because deep down, he knew it wasn't even a tenth of what he deserved for the damage to Silco's face. That burning agony may be similar but no... Vander knew just a fraction of what the sepsis caused by that filthy water was like.

And something underneath that too. A tendril of the past, of the shattered pieces of a relationship that had once meant so much to the both of them. How they had once been their best together and yet could still be at their absolute worst to the world beyond them when they needed to be. All those times, all that emotion turned on its head and twisted into this.

He turned his head and spat his cigarette to the floor, listening intently to Silco's first bit of honesty. He weathered the barrage of words still resting in the older man's lap, and he made a point of considering then he leaned his face in to speak against Silco's ear. One arm dropped so he could cup the left side of the older man's face to prevent Silco from jerking away.]

Here's something honest back: I don't hate you. I wish I could. I'm furious with you, and I don't think I'll ever forgive you for what you did to Mylo, Claggor and Vi that day, but... [He sighed, resting their temples together.] I don't hate you.

[He did withdraw after that, dropping his hand away and lifting it to press to the wall, but he also didn't move. He knew relenting where he was sitting was giving Silco what the man wanted, and Vander had lost interest in that. Perhaps they needed this moment to face reality. Too bad it was in a public lobby.]

There was a time we used to be family. First you and me. Then Felicia. [Those days were over, of course. She died, Silco and Vander damaged beyond repair. Now Silco jockeyed for full control of Jinx. He knew why.] Jinx is my family too. I won't stop seeing or having a relationship with her. I am not looking to take her from you, Silco. She clearly loves you and you her. She and I want something similar. I need her too. [Or else... what's the point?] And you're going to let us have that.

[Finally - finally - Vander shifting his weight and moved to rise so he could stop sitting on Silco.]

cw: murder, probably asphyxiation & eye trauma etc etc etc weeping this is horrid

[zauneyete]

[ He says he has no choice. Silco knows the truth, there is always a choice. He'd chosen that, the collar, the noose, instead of fighting for something. Anything. He had chosen that, over any other option. Silco was already gone then, but he'd known the depths of it, one couldn't not hear about what was happening in the Lanes from anywhere else in Zaun.

That's all Vander cared about, too. It had always been about the Lanes, preserving what they'd built together, claimed and stamped under his control. Silco had made a mess of them, corrupting it into a seedy flare of nightlife in the dark, but there had been life there, thrumming with excitable, uncontrolled energy. Desperate people looking for the next hit, or the next cult, or even a scrap of food — but how was that different than anything else?

The rest of the Zaun and the Lanes had equalized, in their own way, a simmering spread of territory divided amongst the chembarons, with Silco at their head, an iron fist to control them, and Enforcers only allowed so far, not welcome to look too close. Marcus had, for the most part, kept them out. He knew better. Silco had what he needed on him to ensure that he wouldn't falter — the information, the money, and the knowledge of his daughter. Enough that the man hadn't slipped until...

Well. He had never fully slipped, had he? That had been Jinx who did that, if the scorch marks and destruction on the bridge had been an answer.

It was different. Silco had leashed them. Vander could have too, had he twisted and bit. Just once, twice. A sign of something. Life. Anger. Cause.

No. There was a sliver of him still there, but Silco considered that the man he'd once been was dead and gone. Maybe that part of Vander had died in the Pilt too. Choked and drowned right alongside him. He'd been so focused on what he had, that he'd never thought about what to gain.

At least to Silco, who even now thinks he wouldn't have let them leash him. Even if he had gone through with the deal, there would never have been Jinx as payment. They would never have had her, but neither would he have cowered in fear of them. He would have made it work, a deal, a plant, a... something.

Vander holds him down, and confesses a truth to him. Two truths. He doesn't hate him, he says.

What could it have been but hate? Who does what he did to someone he claims was family? Tosses them aside? And doesn't take revenge on the very people that tore them apart? He blames Vander, but he blames the enforcers just as much. They had been forcing him to give up his daughter, and he doesn't see it? The fact that the enforcers had wanted nothing more than a pound of flesh for an explosion — caused by someone else's stock — ah, but we cannot have a lower house pay for all of it? Not when there are scapegoats in the undercity. ]

I don't have a choice.

[ He says, finally. Jinx decreed it. She wants it, too. He can't stop that, because Silco above all else, would always give Jinx what she wanted. ]

Let's hope you don't think to treat her like you did the rest of us who you considered family.

[ A slap in the face, a parting shot. Not just him, but betraying her memory on top of it?

I don't hate you — he says — I don't think I'll ever forgive you for what you did — he says.

He's already mutilated him for less. He mutilated him for an accident — for trying to help — how can he believe him, when evidence pointed to the contrary? He lashes out because despite it all, it still hurts to hear something like that. It hurt, too, when he said he'd never forgiven himself, as if it was his to do. It all hurt, and what does a monster do when it's hurt? It lashes out. Swipes. Cuts. Snaps at. ]

[cantilevers]

[From his experience, Silco being quiet was never a good sign for any conversation, though it also hadn't been particularly unusual either. After all, when they were young men, Silco was often the quieter of the two of them, working diligently scribbling some plan or note down in a book and remaining thoughtful, and he had often respected that quiet by simply being present and puttering around doing his own thing in and around Silco.

Now, the potency of silence could be deadly or at least bring some form of harm to anyone in the path that Silco had chosen. Was the older man considering his point of view? Briefly perhaps, but then it would be discounted and Silco would layer it with years of bitterness and anger and betrayal to scratch together some argument of how the other man would never falter as Vander had, would plan a way out, would never be so leashed by Piltover. It would turn into a mental pissing contest of how the older man would thrive where Vander shied, and he wasn't interested.

But the silence? That was dangerous. People underestimated how dangerous Silco was in silence, always rating the other man based on the words that he said - and Janna Silco could talk. Many didn't see the slow knife inching in the form of silence, the rising danger as Silco planned out the next course of action and lay waste to whatever stood in the way.

Vander knew though. It had warped and changed over the years, but Etraya had provided him a few opportunities to study Silco in their brief silences. It was no longer the quiet contemplative, sometime fanatical silences, but the ones that raised the hair on the back of his neck with the sense of impending danger. It was just Vander was looking for danger so he hardly bothered to back off, but he was aware of it.

Yet, the topic of Jinx was fraught with an extra layer of tension. They both felt it, digging in, even with the acquiesced to her desires. They couldn't bleed each other, but there were other methods, as they had proved today. There was always creative ways to hurt each other even under her dictated rules.]

Perhaps. [He tossed the word out there as he vacated Silco's space, a callback to that time on the gangplank.] But you always will think your way around every stipulation to get what you want no way or another. That's just who you are.

[The tie around their pinky fingers fell away, no longer binding them from the truths that they had spoken. He was still magnetically tied to Silco though, but he moved to the further point that the invisible force would allow.

It was a good thing too for the words slung at him caused a twitch and a clenching of his fists. He turned his back on Silco to compose himself again. It hurt how much truth there was to that; he had tried his best for his family and failed each time. Silco, Felicia, Benzo, Mylo, Claggor... Vi and even Powder. He'd failed them all at some point.]

You never change. Always lashing out when something you don't like happens. How anyone actually works with you long-term these days is a mystery to me.

[zauneyete]

Says the guilty man.

[ It's automatic, a snap. It's easy to keep twisting that knife. He doesn't even have to think. Vander had always tried to cut back, and he was good. That much was clear. Silco, though, hadn't been able to hone muscles or weaponized skill. His power was with words, and words he would use. He lets it slip out. Accuse him of lashing out when something he doesn't like happens?

Him?

Silco was controlling, yes. Always. He would strong-arm foes into working with him at all times. Using whatever means necessary. Words, threats, money, death. It didn't matter. It was all to get everything put into place, control it. He's learned to not rely on much, and those he did he expected loyalty. Real loyalty. Not the loyalty of friendship, or kindness, but the loyalty that came from true loyalty to the cause. He wouldn't trust with out reason. Sevika was loyal to Zaun, it's why she's his second and even then...

He knew the moment he slipped it would be over. The moment his loyalty was in question.

No, he wasn't the one who lashed out. He only orchestrated things to make it right. Vander wasn't a part of that composition. He's a known unknown, one who could snap at any moment.

He would.

He knew it. He'd seen it plenty of times.

He just had to make sure it wasn't him. ]

Now get out of my sight before I decide that Jinx's ultimatum is something to ignore.

[ Snapping. Angry. Mean. He doesn't care what he says. Maybe it's a truth out of that string, maybe it's not. He'd already shared others. He knew that it could still be a deception.

And what did it matter, if what he said was the truth.

The result had been the same, hadn't it? ]

[cantilevers]

We're all guilty of something.

[Vander found that to be empty words when he considered their history. Him, Silco, Jinx, and everyone else was guilty of something or another, and it could be serious or minor. He knew it was to clap back, nothing more because Silco was uncomfortable and when either of them were backed into a corner, they tended to lash out.

And could they be anything more than the men that they were? Still products of the cycle that had created them in the first place, but this time, they were in a different time and place but the motions remained the same. As much as they wanted things to change, things would continue to remain stagnant. Perhaps they fell into the pattern because it was comfortable and they could treat each other with their worst because that's how broken they had become with one another.

Or they were confident the other man could take them at their worst.

Vander snorted at the demand that he leave, and he provided Silco only a side eye as he popped his half-cigarette from his lips and tucked it away in a pocket to finish later. No, he shook his head as if what he was asked was ridiculous. The binding on their fingers was gone, but Vander could do nothing until the magnetism had faded, which he was honestly hoping would be sooner than later. If he had to listen to that cawing for another hour, he might be driven insane.]

I can't. I'm still tethered to being close to you. [He did the next best thing; he turned his back on Silco.] Stay there and contemplate silence and I'll do the same until this is over.

[zauneyete]

Then stand around the corner and look hurt over there, instead of playing this game.

[ He crossed an ankle over his knee, and pulled a fresh cigar out, slipping his fingers into pockets to pull out the clipper, and clip the end. A sharp shink that lets the end fall to the ground. he doesn't bother to pick it up, but instead lights it, and starts smoking again. He doesn't bother with waiting. Not after all of that.

He doesn't buy the malicious compliance for a second. They both had been good at that game, and Silco refused to move. Even if his skin itched and crawled, even if the thought of remaining here for one minute longer made him ill.

He needed to retreat. He would, slink back to the quarters as quickly as he could, but he wouldn't do it where Vander would find out where he's staying (as if he wouldn't be able to figure it out easily as it was.)

No, he would stubbornly wait, but if he didn't have to perceive him, all the better. That way, he can forget the words he said quicker. ]

[cantilevers]

[Vander had his back turned, but that did not stop him from rolling his eyes in the fact of the barked order. He had already moved as far as he was willing to, and he would remain rooted in that spot while leaning subtly forward to keep a conscious track of the magnetic pull to Silco behind him. Once it released him, he would leave immediately.

Of course, now that they weren't all up in one another grills, the burn by the cigar tip was throbbing unpleasantly. It would heal, but it would require attention. Like every interaction with Silco, he was somehow always left with a burning sensation somewhere on his body, and this time simply happened to be more literal than usual.

This would be easier to deal with if he had it in him to simply deck the other man unconscious and sit nearby until he was free. Instead, they must have looked absolutely ridiculous with Silco sitting primly on the bench and Vander with his arms crossed appearing as if he were waiting for someone to release his leash. The whole idiotic nature of the curse was not lost on him what with all the hound and dog references they tended to brandy about.

This actually was probably the worst holiday that he had ever heard of. Valentine's Day was obviously cursed.

So he waited. And waited. He tapped his fingers against his upper arms and stared at a point on the plain blank wall in front of him. Time seemed to crawl by, and all he wanted was a new pack of cigarettes and to 'steal' some food like any respectable Zaunite. Instead each second was like waiting for a shift to end while half buried under a pile of rocks. Freedom was so close and yet so decidedly denied.

Finally. Finally after what he thought was an eternity of suffering there was a sudden give to the tension on his lean. He took a step and was able to move. Then another. Thank Janna!

Vander rolled his shoulders and glanced back at Silco, and he did the only civil address that he could as he marched out of the foray of the apartment block. He flipped Silco the bird and slammed open the door to leave. Just because he didn't hate the guy didn't mean he wasn't irritated.]