IC Inbox for Hadriel

[zen_en_vert]

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[greywaren]

Not me, nope.

[He shrugs.]

Parrish went crazy for a bit, but I think he's better now.

[And then-] To create- I dunno, evil or whatever, it had to destroy. You know, break down, use the energy that was already there and reshape it.

[zen_en_vert]

That's no fun.

[He says, giving a mildly worried look- because that's obviously an understatement.]

It obviously all came out all right in the end, though?

[greywaren]

It broke down the dreams. [He corrects, because it wasn't alright.] All of them it could reach.

[Ronan moves to sit at the table, sinking into a chair. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet, only confessing this because it was so recent, so visceral, and he doesn't know how to keep it locked up when he's back here and helpless to do anything all over again.]

My mother.

[zen_en_vert]

Ronan-

[He says, softly, coming over, bringing a box of crackers with him and setting it down in front of him, as he takes the seat opposite.]

Are you all right? What happened?

[greywaren]

[Ronan shakes his head and holds back a sudden well of emotion. Anger comes instead, and so when he speaks again, his voice is harsh, even if it's still aimless.]

It goes after dreams first. Her. It fucking- tore her apart.

[His hand makes a fist, but there's nothing in front of him to hit.]

Parrish and I found her after, just- [He's close, but he visibly forces himself to calm down, forces stillness, and barrels on.] -whatever. After the dreams were all ground up, it came after me, and now I'm here again.

[zen_en_vert]

Ronan.

[He says again, looking at his hand, then up at his expression.

He knows there's nothing he can really say, so asks, instead;]

What do you need to get through today?

[greywaren]

I don't know.

[It's gritted through his teeth, and Ronan shakes his head, knots of tension in his shoulders. There's nothing he can really do- he's never been good at talking, and trying to explain just the depth of this would make him lose it so instead he refocuses, tries to find something else to latch onto.]

-just get me a list, okay? Whatever you want.

[zen_en_vert]

[He nods, and goes to get to his feet- to get those potatoes for him, and to get the paper he keeps in one of the kitchen cabinets, to begin jotting while Ronan eats.]

How are the others?

[greywaren]

[He shrugs, uselessly.]

Surviving, depending on your definition. Parrish was possessed, but whatever it is, is gone here. Gansey...

[That's a tough one to explain. Ronan himself doesn't even know all the ins and outs of whatever apparently happened after he was attacked.]

-he's here too. Alive, I think.

[zen_en_vert]

Good.

[He says, shaking himself out of it.]

What about Noah?

[greywaren]

[Ronan looks up at that, his surprise at the question barely showing in his expression before it fades back into the familiar ache.]

Gansey wanted to save him, but... that kind of thing was never possible. He's been dead for years.

[zen_en_vert]

I wonder if there's anywhere for him beyond here? If we could get this body of his out, going the other way through the door.

[greywaren]

Do you think that's possible?

[It doesn't seem like it could be, but the idea of it pulls Ronan out of his stupor a little.]

[zen_en_vert]

I don't know. We should talk to Hope about it.

Well- someone without my temper ought to.

[greywaren]

So that rules me out.

[It's a joke, kind of, but Ronan sighs afterward, actually thinking about it for a second.]

I can ask Gansey. He's in good with the gods.

[zen_en_vert]

How the hell did he manage that?

[He wonders, because Bruce- not so much.]

[greywaren]

It's Gansey.

[Ronan scoffs, despite the serious subject matter.]

Name me someone who doesn't like him.

[zen_en_vert]

I still haven't met him more than once- is he the one with the big to-do with the condoms?

[greywaren]

The- what?

[Ronan double takes a little, and it's so unexpected that he actually snorts in laughter.]

...no, that's not really his thing.

[zen_en_vert]

I'm definitely confusing him with someone else.

[greywaren]

I'll say.

[But that seems to at least lighten the mood a little.]

I didn't know there was an issue about- [Okay, Ronan is eighteen and condoms is still kind of an embarrassing word to drop in casual conversation.] -that.

[zen_en_vert]

They petitioned Delight for them and now we keep them in the clinic.

[He admits, pinching the bridge of his nose.]

It's a little like the alcohol, as far as I'm concerned; in the category of 'is this what we want to be focusing on right now?'

[greywaren]

Spoken like a man who isn't getting any.

[Is what Ronan takes out of that, a little too smug to be innocent.]

[zen_en_vert]

Spoken like the one grown up in a ten mile radius, you mean?

[greywaren]

So what you're saying is, your options are limited.

[He points out, deliberately misunderstanding the point to tease him a little.]