aionlogs | Closed Log

WHO: Ernesto and Rand
WHAT: Murder pact
WHERE: Godsblood
WHEN: Shortly after Ernesto comes back to Godsblood early in the month
WARNINGS: Murder pact...

[ Ernesto's time in Venera hadn't been particularly enlightening, but it did leave him with a sense of assurance that the city was getting back on its feet. No city can completely close up shop the way they did without taking a pretty heavy economic hit, but at the very least the citizens seemed to have fully regained their health, with no signs of the Innocence infection creeping back in.

Eventually it seemed nearly pointless for Ernesto to keep lurking about the city, and he returned home to Godsblood.

Home...

Kind of strange to already be thinking of the city this way, but it was the closest thing that Ernesto had to one in this world. He'd settled into Godsblood quickly, and despite frequent trips to Greentruth, Godsblood really does feel like his stomping grounds at this point. He's gotten to know a number of the locals, and done a decent enough job ingratiated himself to most of them. Certainly he's ingratiated enough that the ones that know him decently well have begun to very pointedly turning a blind eye to some of his more suspicious behavior, even as Ernesto starts to wiggle his fingers in a few different business pies.

It's not entirely safe here, but there is a feeling of comfort that comes with being in this city, and as he sits at an outdoor bench, taking in a nice quiet moment, he doesn't realize that the tall redhead that's approaching him is about to disrupt that feeling of comfort today.

When Ernesto spots Rand, he lifts up a hand in greeting, a smile stretching across his face. ]

Been a little bit.

[ Is all his say in lieu of a proper greeting. ]

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[ there isn't blame in how ernesto says that, really. the perro isn't picking a fight. but rand's temper sparks to that question anyway. there is so much that he's been angry about, with nowhere to go.

awful as it sounds, moiraine had been an easy target for his anger in those days on the road. she wasn't forthright with them. she'd dragged them from home. she was manipulating them. and it'd felt like she was pulling egwene away from them hardest of all, filling her head with dreams of becoming an aes sedai and forgetting all about two rivers. it had felt like she was pulling the strings on their lives, before he'd begun to glimpse the much bigger workings at play.

and that'd robbed him of a place to put his anger. besides himself, and that's been burrowing deep. if he hates any part of being in horos, well, he's here because he failed his world. every bad thing that's happened to him or his loved ones in recent months can be traced back to the fact of his birth. if he fails here, who can he blame? if he's unhappy, doesn't he deserve that?

so he snaps, ]

I didn't ask for this. Do you think I would've come to you like this if there was anything else I could do?

[ he can't claim some heroic courage in the face of death. he's bone-shakingly afraid of dying; it's just that there's something worse out there. the reason he'd channeled instead of just calling himself what he is comes from fear. if he were braver, he'd tell ernesto about the dragon reborn too instead of letting different people know bits and pieces about him and praying they never put two and two together. ]

Everyone on our side and theirs will probably know before the end, but it doesn't have to start that way.

[ If anyone can understand Rand's choice to only tell people scattered pieces of his story while never letting anyone see the fully completely puzzle, it's Ernesto. Though he doesn't have some powerful and all consuming destiny, and the fate of his world cannot in any way be traced to his own actions, he's still guarded about himself and what he's been through as well.

The looming axe of fate is not looming over Ernesto's neck the way it is for Rand though, and while his safety and continued existence is definitely not guaranteed in a world like this one, in a war he's been thrust into against his will, it's not the same as knowing death is a certainty for you.

But he knows others who do know that's their coming fate, and even if he hasn't experienced it personally, he has a pretty good understanding of how that can fuck a person up.

So he doesn't react strongly to the outburst, even if his ears pin back at Rand suddenly lashing out at him. His brow furrows slightly, and the corners of his lips turn down in a small frown, but he doesn't move. Even when he talks his voice stays calm, even attempting something soothing and placating to keep Rand from getting angry enough to storm off in the middle of what is frankly turning out to be a pretty damn important conversation these two started up. ]

If you don't want me to mention this to anyone else, I won't. And if you don't wanna tell anyone else, I'm not gonna pressure you to do it.

[ rand is capable of escalating arguments, of course. he is capable, if he's stressed and miserable and angry enough, of making ugly accusations. light knows, any of his friends could attest to that. his temper can get away from him. but it usually doesn't. his control is better than that, a lot of the time. and he isn't — he isn't an angry person. he never had reason to be. he doesn't see himself that way.

so there's that, and there's the fact that ernesto doesn't rise to his outburst. and there's...the way his ears move, the placating tone he takes. swelling shame is enough to douse rand's anger.

he breathes out a long, shuddering sigh. leans forward as he scrubs both hands down his face, leaves it covered for a long moment with his elbows balanced on his thighs. what does he want? the truth is, they're having this conversation because he's started to realize he can't keep running.

you cannot

escape

your fate.

he'd really, really wanted to get through this conversation with some measure of moiraine's serenity. egwene's conviction. perrin's quiet strength. the world doesn't need a dragon like me, he'd heard once, and he wonders if that's true of him now and here. ]

We'll have to, [ he says finally, without looking up. ] What I want doesn't matter.

[ Anger usually begets more anger, and the best way to deal with someone whose emotions are starting to swell is to refuse to let them drag you into their spiral. It's not a hard one for Ernesto, who is naturally even keel in demeanor, but it wouldn't be hard for most people to get riled up by someone exploding over their frustrations at life.

So it's probably better it was directed towards Ernesto, because it's also not hard for him to understand why Rand's situation would lead to an outburst either.

Ernesto watches Rand for a moment, quiet as he lets Rand get his barrings. There's not a lot he can over the other guy, other than the promise to take him out when things take a turn for the worse, and a promise based on cold rationality like that isn't a particularly comforting offer.

A hand falls on Rand's shoulder, warm, steady, and hopefully grounding enough that Rand doesn't lose himself too much in the what's to comes of the future. ]

It does a little bit.

[ His tone is just shy of cheerful now, not quite making it into upbeat territory, but relaxed enough that it's like they're having a regular conversation, instead of one about the magic Rand posses that will one day kill him. ]

You seem lucid enough to me at the moment, so there's no need to rush to make this all common knowledge.

[ when was the last time someone extended a hand in comfort? when was the last time he let himself accept it?

the answer comes slow, but it comes: nynaeve. in tar valon. you've done well, to bring him here. to take care of him. we don't need the aes sedai; we're two rivers folk. there had been a very brief time, between the chaos of their escape from home, their long separation, and all the revelations that would unfurl on the path to the eye of the world, when things seemed a little stable. nynaeve was there to take care of things: two rivers's wisdom, miraculously alive, who had never, ever let them down. and mat was healed not long after that. egwene and perrin found their way to safety, to them. a small glimmer of time when it seemed like things would be alright.

his relationship with moiraine had sometimes been difficult, but he'd never been sorry she was here. moiraine is knowledgeable, is reliable, cares about things that matter. she'd protected him in his very first moments in horos. and now she's gone.

it's a thought that seems to pound inside his skull: he is alone. he is alone. in a strange world, a strange war. with a power that will inevitably erode at the foundations of who he is.

but no, there isn't any need to hurry. he won't go mad tomorrow. so he listens, and he considers that, and he nods slowly. he hasn't looked back up yet, but he's gathering himself. he will. he can't fall apart now.

he is alone, but for a minute ernesto makes him feel like he isn't. and that's more than he could've ever asked for. ]

[ Ernesto doesn't have much magic, and what limited amount he possesses doesn't allow him to understand the thoughts and feelings of the people around him. What he does have is a natural gift for reading facial expressions and body language, and enough empathy to not want to abuse this particular skill.

Not that it takes any great skill to be able to tell what a mess of emotions Rand is right now, or that it takes much caring to not want to pick at something that has been clearly festering for awhile inside of this boy.

If the only true "remedy" he can offer for Rand is to one day kill him, then he can at least treat the symptoms for now by not letting Rand dwell on things. It's easy to get too deep in your own head; Ernesto would know that better than anyone, but it doesn't mean that another person can't pull you out.

He squeezes Rand's shoulder now, getting to his feet, but not letting go while Rand sits there. After a few short seconds he offers an exaggerated sigh, before finishing it off with a light-hearted chuckle. ]

Alright, if you're going to make a big ask of me, at least let me get a meal out of it. Come on, let's find something good. Your treat.

[ No, no wallowing in that sadness if Ernesto can gently prod him out of it and push him in to focusing on the immediate present instead of the overwhelming future. ]

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