RP:Shattered To Pieces
Summary: Irenic tells Valrae what he saw.
Larket Town Square
The square, in stark contrast to its previous appearance, is beautiful and well maintained. Streets from the north, south, and west, cobbled smoothly, encircle a small area of land here, where grass and flowers grow. A small stone gazebo sits in the center of the square, raised a fair distance from the ground by marble steps, so that the structure can serve as a stage for public announcements. A board is fastened to its side, pulled from the wreckage of the old square. Vendors line the roads, selling a variety of wares ranging from food to clothes. East of the square stands a sturdy building of stone, its entrance guarded by armed men in Larket's livery.
Irenic sits on a bench under the vacant stone gazebo and dressed in a black cloak in order to spare any unwanted attention from his deformity. He hadn’t seen Valrae in some time and he started to wonder if he would ever get a chance to tell her what happened and what he witnessed. He sort of dreads it because it may mean he would always be cursed this way and the pain of the shifts were only getting worse. The cunning and adequate mind he covets is being compromised day by day now, but luckily he was a little more put together in his monstrous bird form. Clawed fingernails fidget to do well to keep his cloak’s hood down and his talons for feet ache being stuffed into regular boots.
Valrae has recently taken to traveling within the safety groups, or with her face hidden into obscurity by hooded cloaks. For an unregistered but known witch, the hostility felt stifling in the streets of Larket. For now, the witch was with a few of the girls she worked with in the salon. She was laughing, tossing her blonde hair away from her dark eyes as they crossed through the busy street. They were passing by Irenic's bench when the familiar scent of salt and sand reached her. She stopped and glanced about the square. One of the other witches tugged on her wrist, concerned, and because her dark gaze saw no one she recognized, Val continued past the avian in his hooded disguise.
Irenic had slightly keener senses and he was still able to practically feel her energy aside from his augmented unseeing eye. It was an impulse, but Irenic’s voice came out of the beaked creature, “Valrae?” He asked as if she was some longtime friend he hadn’t seen in ages, but he doesn't dare move from his spot on the bench. Inside he nearly instantly regretted coming out this late or even being out in the open, but he just knew this was where to be tonight. His body language as stoic as his usual face and he actually felt a little nervous for he knows what he wants to say, but he just hopes it doesn’t come off the wrong way.
Valrae stopped again. She turned slowly, confused and a little embarrassed that she'd managed to walk right by Irenic. "Irenic!" She chirps, her boots never moving from the spot on the cobblestone they seemed to have fused with. Her friends were making concerned noises, moving to stand beside her. She makes quick introductions, "Friends meet Irenic. Irenic meet friends." and sends them away with assurances that she will be just fine to find her way home, thank you very much. They leave, her feet are still refusing to move, and Valrae just stands in her place awkwardly. She was going to tell him. Obviously, she would. They'd shared I love yous, hadn't they? And he'd always been open, honest with her. She owed him the same. Oh, but how could she? He needed her, needed someone, and she'd been playing gangster doctor with her ex... Whatever Hudson was. Maybe she wouldn't tell him. Finally, her feet moved. They carried her to Irenic's bench, so she sat herself down beside him and pretended to brush away dirt from her plum dyed skirt. "Hey..." Dead space. "Ah, how... are you? I haven't seen you in a while."
Irenic gave one bow of his hooded head to her friends to acknowledge them and only listened as her footsteps neared and he felt cursed all over again for only if he could be in his more human form. That way he could maybe get one last kiss or… Something, but no, the only way she could understand is if he was able to actually tell her, in common. He didn’t scoot away nor did he comfort her with scooting closer, “surely, I’ve just been… Staying out of the way I suppose.” Buried and displaced memories slowly flashback in his mind, the ball he took her to, dropping off the dress and jewelry off her her room at the Inn… The Cove. In their awkward silence he didn’t even look up or remove his hood too ashamed, but he couldn’t help being hurt like this for the first time. He needed someone who didn’t need him. Who wasn’t attracted to what he’s become and, really, he kicks himself for not seeing it sooner. Without agenda he lays it out, “I saw.” The tone was not angry or full of jealousy or hate, but only fact.
Valrae's brow furrows in confusion at his tone, the choice in wording. A hand started to reach out to his in concern, but she pulled it back and clinched it in her skirts. The man beside her was a familiar stranger, Irenic and somehow not. Where was the arrogant, teasing tone The playful half-smile? Well, never mind his face had changed, she would have seen it gladly on in form he took. But two words had her thoughts spiraling. He saw? He saw what? There was plenty to see, with Valrae lately. His words sucked the air out of her lungs, as if she'd been sucker punched in the stomach. Had he seen her at the field day, the celebration for the queen? Had he taken one look at the effigies, seen her artistry and known she was the witch in the scarlet cloak? Maybe he'd seen her conspiring with Tychus or one of the other resistance sympathizers? Or maybe he was talking about what happened above the nail salon... Her face had paled. Val felt sick and tired and ready to run screaming from the man beside her. Instead, she pushed the curling strands of gold away from her tanned brow and sighed. "I'm sorry, Irenic. I feel like you're expecting me to know what that means and I don't."
Irenic stayed entirely still and didn’t move away when she wanted to touch him. Her deciding not to registering as her disgust of him in this form… Understandable. “I don’t care about the queen’s birthday and as far as I will be able to think anymore I won’t even remember. Valrae, my mind is going whenever I shift back to the more humanoid form and I don’t remember a lot because the pain is literal-” He cuts himself off… He doesn’t need to go into some dramatic explanation on what happens to him whenever he changes because she witnessed what it reduces him to. He doesn’t fidget and does not move to look at her and one might start to wonder if he was ever really a normal being at all. “I saw you and that guy.” He never really got a name. “I am not about to stand in the way of that and if you really love him you should go out and get him.” Look at this bloke giving a pep talk?! Ironic.
Valrae || Her mouth felt dry. Her palms were sweaty now. And her chest ached with such a ferocity that she thought her heart might shatter. He'd seen it all, in the heart of everything he was going through, he'd seen every selfish moment of her life. There was affection in the jagged remains of her heart, for how doggedly he stuck by her side even as she constantly abandoned his. He wouldn't betray her, he wouldn't react in anger. She did reach for his hand now, with similar thoughts of being turned away. They were two sided of the same coin, as her insides felt as hideous as he seemed to believe his appearance was. "Irenic, I'm sorry." Was all she could say into the long silence that followed. "But you've got it all wrong." It was selfish to explain, to do anything other than beg forgiveness, but her heart always had been. "I love him, I do. There will always be a part of me that does and I can't help that.. But I'll never be with him." She lapsed into quiet again, bruised but thoughtful now. "Maybe that's part of the appeal, I don't know... But I am sorry I hurt you and I'm sorry I haven't been there for you." Her chin lowered. "I told you before, you deserve much better than me."
Irenic didn’t pull away, but he only patted the top her her hand gently, “that seems like a waste then.” Was all he offered, but he knew in this moment even if he forgave her that someone who doesn’t entirely love and accept him in his cursed form would only leave him cursed for the rest of his long life. “Especially for a human. You’ve got to live while you can.” Large and birdlike mismatched gaze now looks at her from under the shadow of his hood. Those eyes taking in her facial features like it was the last time before it ended on her hair while his hands slip from hers and he reaches up to feel some of the locks of her hair between feathered fingertips. Halfway through her long hair strands his nails clip some off and he holds the abandoned lock in his black clawed hand. He stands now unable to end this conversation on a hopeful note for he knows daylight was coming soon and his hand palming her stolen lock shoves into his tattered pants pocket under his cloak before he started to make his way back to Artia’s, “you’ll be seeing me around.” Whether or not he will be seeing her the way he does now is a story remained to be told.
Valrae watched his hand run through her hair from a distant place in her mind that was screaming. The way he spoke to her now, even with this move that somehow felt so intimate, was the way he'd spoken to her when she was just a stranger on the beach. He stood and still she couldn't find her voice. To his retreating figure with tears streaming down her face and her heart in a million pieces around her she whispered, "I love you."