Kalen Holliday
[Magedar!]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 5, 5, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Kalen Holliday
Kalen
leaves the gate open for Ian, because he's not (yet) paranoid enough to
make people page him from the gate. The fence surrounding the property
is new, sturdy but not impenetrable. There is a bit of an uphill
driveway to get to the gate, and then a good size gravel lot, so the two
rectangular buildings aren't incredibly observable from the road.
There are security cameras and biometric locks that scan hand prints.
There is an intercom at the door, but Kalen is already coming outside to
meet Ian, so Ian is spared having to call him.
He still has
barely slept and he looks like Hell: too thin, too pale, too dark
shadows under his eyes. He smiles anyway, even if it is tired. "Hey,"
he says, warmth and exhaustion twining around each other like vines or
lovers or cats in his tone. "It's good to see you." He leans back on
the open door, and sure he relaxes a little but the position is more
collapse than anything. He looked better during during the apocalypse,
save for his eyes.
Tonight, his eyes are calm. Not just
muted, really calm. He's spent the last two weeks reconnecting with his
cabal and the rest of the Denver mages, he's had visions and dealt with
armed robbery and picked up an actual apprentice. Monsters have not
taken over this world and he is not going to let them and even if he is
fucking exhausted there is peace there.
"How are you?"
Ian
Ian
hadn't spoken to Kalen much since the night they'd woken up back in
their own bodies. At that point, they'd both been so broken down and
relieved that there was little room for anything else between them but
the desperate joy of being alive - of being home. Ian had
barely been able to walk then, but he'd pulled himself out of his
hospital bed anyway and made straight for Kalen's room, leaning against
walls for support as his disused legs tried to re-adapt themselves to
moving.
It wasn't until later that the reality of it all
really sunk in. He pushed himself hard in physical therapy. Harder,
probably, than he should have. Because he'd never been any good at
knowing how to be... less.
He didn't tell Kalen about losing one of the lead roles in the next show, although he did think about it.
In
the end it was Kalen who finally called him. That cryptic message had
worried Ian enough that he'd texted back. And even though the answer had
been enough to alleviate any immediate concerns, it had eaten at him a
little. A nagging concern. More than that, maybe.
So he was
here, at this massive gated property that he'd never even known Kalen
owned. He parked his car close to the building and looked around when he
got out, letting his eyes roam over the property until Kalen appeared
at the door. Then his focus shifted to take in Kalen's state. His eyes.
His exhaustion.
Ian didn't look exhausted. Considering he'd
been in a coma two weeks ago, he actually looked pretty good. But you
could see that he'd lost weight. The planes of his face had more defined
edges, and his collar bones jutted out noticeably beneath the thin
material of his black t-shirt. He'd gotten his hair cut recently - not
as short as what he'd done to it in that shadow of a world they'd lived
in together. But shorter than it had been: buzzed close at the back and
sides, with a longer section on top.
He looked as though he'd been resting, at least. And the muscle definition was starting to come back in his arms and legs.
"I'm
alive," he answered, and it could have sounded pessimistic, but the
tone of his voice didn't lend itself to that interpretation.
"How are you?"
Kalen Holliday
Kalen
watches Ian speaking. Listens. Lets the sense of Ian's Resonance wash
over him. His expression doesn't really change - his eyes stay warm,
the trace of a smile lingers.
Still, despite the fact that he
is clearly paying attention, clearly present, he doesn't answer the
question right away. The answer is complicated and half-occluded - even
from him. Eventually he says softly, "Very, very close to on the
ground. But beyond that, actually really good, I think. I...." He
frowns. "Clarity's...not quite my thing right now.
"You should come in. See the library." Kalen waves one hand, lazily, imprecise.
Ian
"And
you should be resting," Ian observed, his tone just edging into
something like concern. He didn't try to touch Kalen or otherwise close
the spaces between them.
"But I wouldn't mind seeing the library."
(Of course he wouldn't.)
Ian
passed through the door and let Kalen lead wherever he wished to go. Up
the stairs toward the library. And though he did pay close attention to
the newness of his surroundings, his eyes often found their way back to
Kalen. Taking in the state of his pattern. The way he moved. How he
looked both different and the same from how Ian remembered.
"Is this place all yours?"
Kalen Holliday
"Not
exactly." He pushes off the door once Ian is coming through and then
does lead him toward the library. His movements are slow, but that
seems to just be from lack of rest. No sign that whatever he was up to
last night left any actual wounds. "Grace and I are putting together a
virtual library. We have our books here and we're collecting more of
them. So...really, this place is everyone's. But only a few people can
actually just walk in."
There is no tour, Kalen just leads
him to the library and sinks onto one of the couches. He leaves space,
so that Ian can join him without being crowded into him or the arm of
the couch. "And...I just need time. I...just did a rather involved
ritual yesterday. Then got into the middle of an armed robbery. I'm
just a bit drained, is all. And...you know...nightmares. But those are
hardly new.
"The warehouse next door is basically all mine,
although Grace can get in there too. There's some more couches and a
bed and a shooting range. You know...all the things that make a place
home. The cats are around here somewhere. They like it here, where the
people are more."
Ian
Kalen led them to the
library and gave Ian space to look around, but Ian did little more than
glance at the stacks before walking over to sit beside Kalen on the
couch. The books were not likely to fly away any time soon.
Ian
leaned back and draped one of his arms over the sofa behind Kalen. He
didn't sit close enough to touch, but there wasn't much distance between
them either. His posture looked relaxed, but something about his eyes
and the sharpness of his focus suggested otherwise.
He regarded Kalen with a silent expression. Then he sighed once, quietly.
"I'm starting to think you're one of those people who'd rather deal with other people's problems than their own."
Kalen Holliday
Kalen
curls into the space Ian is framing, though he doesn't move closer.
"I...." Kalen sighs and then lets his head rest sideways against the
back of the couch, watching Ian.
"That's probably accurate.
Marcellus-" He swallows, just once, and when he continues his voice
stays steady. "Marcellus somehow turned a con artist into a kid who
believed in his awesome new Camelot. After Flagstaff, I thought that
was over, but I don't think so now. So...yeah. I just...respond to
stress by trying harder to make his dream a thing a lot." Pause. "I
think he's dead, but...I guess it's kind of mine too.
"In the sense you're talking about though...yeah. I hide behind it a little."
Ian
There were a lot of things Ian could say to that. Too many, really.
"You used to be a con artist?"
Somehow
that was the thing that stuck out at him. Or maybe that was just the
part that felt easiest to tackle. Ian shot Kalen a look that almost
felt... skeptical. But there was a flicker of humor in it too. Tired and
distant.
"I'd like to see that."
Kalen Holliday
"You
never wondered why I was so terrible at telling the truth?" Kalen
smiles faintly. "I'm not sure I can really demonstrate that. But some
day when I'm more awake I can break into your car." The smiles widens a
little. If he was more awake he would definitely be grinning. "I'd
demonstrate my amazing forgery skills, but I don't have the equipment.
I keep meaning to get it, but there are so many things I need to do
more."
"Why do you bring this up now? About the solving other
people's problems instead of my own. The con artist question was
pretty understandable." He sinks deeper into the couch, lets his head
fall further and rest lightly against Ian's arm. He watches Ian, ready
to move if the contact seems to bother him, but so long as Ian seems
fine Kalen lets his eyes drift half closed and relaxes a little.
Ian
"Because
we were living in a post-apocalyptic nightmare for a month, Kalen.
We've been back for all of two weeks and already you're taxing yourself
with lengthy rituals and somehow getting involved in an armed robbery."
His
voice sounded tense on that last bit. Clipped and irritated. But he
didn't make any move to dislodge Kalen's head from his arm.
"Meanwhile I'm just trying not to lose my job. Giving even half a shit about you is fucking exhausting."
Kalen Holliday
"I
didn't...." Kalen looks away, his eyes going distant. "I had a
vision. I can't...." He looks back. "I can see things on purpose. I
can scry. But...sometimes I just see things. Usually dreams. This one
was pretty obviously a vision because the only person who died was me.
So yeah, I did a ritual. Because I wasn't really in the mood for point
blank shotgun blasts. And yeah, I was in the middle of an armed
robbery, because I was meant to be.
"I was safe. I knew that.
I kept everyone safe. Because that's what I do." He sighs. "I'm
sorry if I worried you. I was really tired. And I just...if I hadn't
seen...." There is a slight pause, but he doesn't look away this time.
"I just really wanted...I don't know. I didn't like the thought that
the last thing you heard from me would have just been a note about where
I'd be. I wanted to talk to you."
Ian
Ian put his free hand up to his mouth and exhaled. Slowly.
"Whatever."
When
he looked at Kalen, he let his hand drop. A few seconds passed like
that, with Ian's eyes fixed on Kalen's own. Dark brown regarding pale
green.
"I'm glad you're okay," he finally said. His voice was
heavy and quiet. And he shifted his arm a little so that he could trace
his fingers through Kalen's hair.
"Tell me what happened."
Kalen Holliday
Kalen
tenses, very slightly, at the whatever. But then he has eye contact
and then Ian is saying he's glad Kalen is okay and then Ian's fingers
are in his hair and Kalen sighs, eyes drifting all the way closed for a
second. Two seconds.
"I had a dream about...a few seconds.
Just, someone saying to get on the ground. Someone was trying to calm
them down and then there was a shotgun touching my chest and then
everything was very loud and very bright and there were screams. And
then it was really dark.
"So, I did a really extended version
of what I did to try to keep us safe from zombie bites. I know I got
really drained, but...considering it seemed like a really good idea.
And then I went on with my day. I slept really badly, even outside of
the vision, and I was just exhausted so I went to get coffee.
"And
then this couple tried to rob the place and I convinced them it was a
bad idea and they never even got the shotgun out of the guitar case and
no one was robbed or shot. Kelsey was really into not robbing the place
after a second and tried to convince Bill but then he almost shot her
and then...." Kalen opens his eyes and winces at little. "You're going
to think I've lost my mind but
speaking-of-solving-other-people's-problems-she's-kind-of-at-my-place-right-now."
Ian
Ian seemed to relax a little while Kalen related
his story. Maybe that was counterintuitive. But Kalen spoke and Ian let
his hand brush through Kalen's hair slowly, feeling the soft strands
slide between his fingers. And whatever his opinions, he kept them
mostly to himself - though there was a veiled darkness in his eyes when
Kalen spoke of being killed.
Like looking down from miles above into one of those trenches in the ocean.
...Then
Kalen admitted to bringing one of the armed robbers home with him. And
Ian dropped his hand and just... stared at him. Silently.
A
few seconds passed. It felt like more than a few seconds, the way the
silence hung in the air like a palpable sensation. Finally he said,
"...Right. Of course she is."
Kalen Holliday
"In
retrospect, that decision may have been a little rushed. I just...she
tried to save me. She almost got herself shot by her idiot of a
boyfriend trying to save me from him and I couldn't bring myself to just
leave her there. She was scared. I might have been there. I wasn't,
because I met people who knew what they were doing and knew that the
armed robbery of coffee shops was ridiculous and then Marcellus,
but...."
He sighs, this time not because Ian is petting him,
"I can't-she was just scared. And whatever would have happened if I
just walked away probably wouldn't have made her better or the world
better. I couldn't just-
"There were monsters everywhere, Ian. Everywhere.
It was the kind of nightmare world we were supposed to stop. He was
always better at it than me. He was calm and he was amazing and he
seemed fucking immortal and if anyone-" If anyone got to live. If
anyone got to walk out of the rubble of their fallen chantry.
But
he doesn't finish that. Any more than he would finish statements about
iced-over ponds. About killing shots no one saw coming.
"I promised him. I promised. And I'm probably doing it wrong. But I have to try."
Ian
"You live your life the way you want to, Kalen."
The
way Ian said it, it didn't sound like criticism (and he could be so
good at that - the brutally efficient way he cut into things.) It didn't
sound like reassurance, either. More... an observation. Or an act of
removing himself from involvement. (Just as he had done with that 'whatever.')
"I
hope you took the gun away," he offered, more pragmatically. There was a
pause as he took a moment to consider the stacks of books around him.
The way the place hummed with Kalen's resonance - moreso than the house
where the two of them had first slept together.
"Can I ask you something?"
Kalen Holliday
"I did not bring an armed would-be robber into my house. Or my car."
Some
of the tension that crept back into the set of his shoulders when Ian
stopped petting him eases. That was a blissful, peaceful thing. This
is just calm.
"Yeah. Ask whatever you want." He resettles
against the couch so he is watching Ian but not even trying to hold his
head up at all, and his eyes drift to half closed, because he is fucking
exhausted. But the smile that accompanies the offer to ask him
anything stays.
Ian
"When we were in that place. With her.
The... I don't know... entity? That took us." He didn't know how to
refer to her, really. Somehow in the midst of everything, he'd never
asked her name. "What did she say to you?"
There was an edge
of seriousness to the question, the way Ian looked at Kalen. The way he
spoke. Like he needed to understand what had happened to them. Like this
was maybe how he made sense of terrible things - by trying to fit all
the pieces together.
Kalen Holliday
Kalen
starts to reach for Ian, then changes that to laying a hand, palm up,
for Ian to take if he wants. You invite cats to touch you. At least
the kind of cats that seem to find their way into Kalen's life. You
give them space to love you. Or to not. And then you wait.
"She
asked me what story I wanted to tell. I told her that I would tell one
about her. Because the world doesn't remember things so transcendently
beautiful enough." If Ian did accept that invitation for contact,
Kalen squeezes his hand, lightly. "She asked if I wanted to stay there.
With her."
He smiles and it is all wonder. Perhaps, perhaps,
a little wistful. "I think she might have let me. But, I explained
that we don't always tell the stories we're living so much as the ones
we need to remember. And then I told that I had taken oaths to protect a
different world, that I had found a home, and that I had promised
someone I wasn't going anywhere. She was a little sad, I think. She
said goodbye.
"And then I woke up. And then we traumatized
some nurses." Kalen's smile widens for a second. "Which I enjoyed.
And...from there...well, less to do with her. We tried to pick our
lives back up, I guess. Which...yeah.
He glances away for a
second, and for a few seconds at least he is not trying to be a knight.
There is no immediate concern with any of the rest of the world save
for Ian. "I missed you, though. I just...I was used to you being
there."
Ian
Perhaps a part of Kalen already
knew that Ian would never take a hand that was offered to him like that.
Might not even be capable of it. (Might not ever be capable of
it.) Could give, perhaps. In his softer, more human moments. But the
connotation was different there. Maybe comfort wasn't what he needed to
feel safe. To feel... hopeful.
In any case, he didn't take
Kalen's hand. But he did listen closely to what Kalen had to say,
because these were things that Ian needed to know and understand.
He
smirked a little when Kalen mentioned the nurses at the hospital. The
expression fell away when Kalen added that he'd gotten used to Ian being
with him. That he'd missed him.
"I'm a little surprised you
came back, to be honest. I thought maybe you wouldn't be there when I
woke up. Dreams are like fucking viruses. The way they infect us."
(Nightmares, too.)
Kalen Holliday
"I
finally have a home here. It was really hard to understand for a long
time, but...there are people here that-" He wants to say need, because
that is the easiest thing. But this is not really about the easiest
thing. Maybe, maybe it was easy once. It's a little more complicated
now.
"Care about me. I have friends. There are things I can
do here that I can't do without them. And sure, the fact that I can do
things that are important matters but...if that really was all I wanted,
I could have stayed in that other world. All world's have monsters.
"I
love people here. They're pretty much the only family I have. I-" He
takes a breath. "I don't think I can just leave anymore. Even if I
hadn't promised anyone anything.
"I was a little afraid you wouldn't come back. I'm glad you did."
Ian
Kalen spoke about the concept of home, and Ian... did not really react, except to look away from him.
I was a little afraid you wouldn't come back.
"Why?" Ian seemed almost surprised by this. He glanced back and raised an eyebrow skeptically.
Kalen Holliday
"You're
fucking hot and the sex is fantastic?" Kalen sighs, and his tone
softens. "Because you don't just let me be crazy. Because you force me
to focus on the moments actually happening right now. Because even
when the world is going to hell it seems easier to breathe when you're
here. Because I'm rather fond of you in general. Because despite the
fact that unless I am really wrong about something this is entirely not
what either of us was looking for, you've let it go."
Ian
Ian's
lips parted softly, like he wanted to say something. To interrupt,
maybe. But he didn't speak until after Kalen had finished making his
confession. Then he exhaled quietly and said, "I just meant... why did
you think I would choose to stay there?"
In all that Kalen had
ever seen of him, such an assumption seemed... a bit out of character.
But then, maybe that was not precisely what Kalen had meant.
And
now there was something a lot heavier hanging in the air between them.
Maybe a month ago Ian would have blamed Kalen for that. Tonight he
just... leaned his head against his hand and met Kalen's eyes with a
complicated expression.
"It wasn't really a deliberate decision. Letting things go."
Kalen Holliday
Oh.
That why. "Sometimes you don't seem like you belong here. Not
because no one wants you here, just...you seem so intent on holding
yourself at least a little apart. And you feel...like something else.
Something old and wild and remarkable in ways that cities and lights
and rushing sounds are not.
"I can't imagine you staying anywhere you didn't want to stay. And I don't know what keeps you here. Or how long it will."
He
takes a breath. Ian had asked before asking a question, but Kalen
doesn't really do that. Instead he builds questions into questions.
Layers them like layers of clouds. "Is what you told her and why you
came back a thing you want to talk about?"
Ian
Ian
didn't bother trying to refute any of Kalen's claims. It would have
been a lie, if he had. But he didn't answer right away, either.
"I
moved here because I had a job offer. Denver is no more or less a home
than anywhere else. But I like what I do, and it's a hard career to stay
in."
He ran his fingers through the short part of his hair,
pressing into his scalp while he closed his eyes. Like he needed the
contact to keep himself present.
"When I was a kid, all anyone
ever tried to do was feed me all these fucking dreams. Like it was
supposed to make things better. But it didn't. Like going to church. All
it did was make me feel like I was alone."
He opened his eyes and looked at Kalen.
"I'd rather take every broken thing that I have. At least I know that it's real."
Kalen Holliday
Kalen
listens. His posture says resting, his eyes stay half closed.
Everything about him says he needed to collapse hours ago.
He
listens and then he smiles. It is probably meant to be reassuring, but
it manages really only warm. "Hey," Kalen says. "I meant it. I'm not
going anywhere. You can be alone if you want to be, but you don't have
to be." That promise might be more reassuring coming from someone who
knows how to stop, who understands how to balance the driving need to be
everything he can imagine the world might need with mundane things like
physical limitations. Whose response to the coming end of the world
had been something other than dazed wonder.
But he means it. You don't manage to stay in the Order without knowing what kind of weight oaths carry.
Ian
Kalen
had said things like this before. Things that were meant to be calming.
To be reassuring. To be kind. And every single time, Ian had turned
away.
Tonight he looked at Kalen as though something in those words had actually hurt
him. And you could see the slow shift of emotion in his eyes. The way
it began - wide and dark and fathomless - and the way he just... shut
down. Became something glossy and distant.
"Get some sleep," he said quietly. "You look like you need it."
He set his hand on Kalen's knee, gently. Then he stood up and began to make his way back out to his car.
Kalen Holliday
[Kalen, are you even conscious enough to get a read on anyone?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 4, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Ian
[Subterfuge, which will kick in mid-way through that post before he starts talking.]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 4 )
Ian
What Kalen had said... had
hurt Ian. But not in a way that surprised him. There was a moment there
when he'd been open and honest in a way he often wasn't. But whatever
connection he'd tried to make, Kalen had missed it. And Ian did not
necessarily blame him for that. There was no anger in him. Only this
kind of tired disappointment.
(The idea that he does not crave
connections - that is a lie. One he tries very hard to make other
people believe. Perhaps it is more that he does not believe real
connections are possible for him, and so would just as soon not hope for
it.)
In the end this is what Kalen can tell: Ian tried to
tell him something important just now, and Kalen heard the wrong thing.
And then he said something Ian didn't want to hear. And Ian closed down
and shut him out.
Kalen Holliday
Kalen is still for a few seconds in Ian's wake. But only a few.
And
then he pushes up off the couch and follows Ian. He doesn't try to
grab Ian, because that is...well that is problematic in all kinds of
ways. "Wait!"
"Please. Just-" He raises a hand, pinches
the bridge of his nose, and tries to really focus. He's Flambeau, after
all. Impossible odds are his thing. His eyes open. Fully. And he
might be too pale, and the shadows beneath his eyes might be way too
pronounced but they open.
"I'm sorry. I am. I know this
isn't easy for you. I-" He presses harder against the bridge of his
nose. His eyes squeeze shut. Reopen. His hand falls.
But
whatever last reserves of energy he pulled from to get that far are
already flagging. And he does know, eventually, when to admit that
flinging himself forward isn't even a real option anymore.
"I'm glad you came. I'm sorry I wasn't...."
Ian
Ian
stopped walking long enough to let Kalen speak, although he didn't
fully turn around. Instead his spine curved, and he looked back over his
shoulder.
"We're different people, Kalen. You don't have to apologize for that."
When
he finally did turn around, he did it slowly. Like it took some effort
for him to even be there. Talking to Kalen in this space that held so
many stormy echoes.
"Whatever you think this is... it's not about hopes or promises. It's about what is actually here, right now. And what isn't."
For the first time that night, Ian looked almost as tired as Kalen felt.
(Almost.)
"Goodnight, Kalen."
Then he really did leave. And this time he didn't look back.
