RP:You Were a Good Kid, Pete
Summary: Irenic gets slapped again in front of Valrae and she discovers that he had his memory wiped of her, but that he has something else tagging along with him. Get your tissues out because it’s going to be a tough end to this rp.
Sandy Beach
You stand upon the stretch of sandy land, entitled 'Sandy Beach' by those who know it. Obviously a popular locale, multiple youths of Cenril wander about, socializing amongst themselves in simple, near-bare uniform. A man-crafted barrier of stone hedging works around the sandy lot of shore, standing at about four feet tall and a foot in width. The entire beach forms a 'C' shape, opening east to the sea, probably much of the reason why it'd be famous in Cenril. Skirting the barrier, the beach continues on north and south.
On a rumpled and sandy beach blanket of deep greens, Valrae rested in the golden afternoon sun. There was a thick use-worn book in one hand, her fingers holding her place, her other hand free as her arm draped over her eyes. Tossed over her large leather satchel was her wispy blue wrap cover and a floppy woven beach hat. Her bathing suit was the color of ripe peaches, high waisted and dotted with fat white polka dots. A large bow of white was tied under the dip of the sweetheart top. Spending so much time in Larket, and away from the beach, had left her normally sun-dark skin several shades more pale and her recent nap in the sun was even making her look a little burned. Her wheat and honey curls were free and long in a fan around her. Her mouth was slightly open as she snored lightly, deep in her sun drenched nap. Downwards from the witch's resting place, people were playing an animated game of beach ball. Someone served the ball too hard and it bounced away from the game and squarely onto Val's sleeping temple. With a squeak, the woman was sitting up straight on her blanket and clutching confusedly at her temple.
Irenic was here with some random woman, both of them relaxing in the sun and her laughter and swooning could probably be the only thing overheard. He's shirtless and she's wearing even less, but he leans in to whisper something to her and they get quiet. Whatever is said is unknown as she pulls back in order to give him a hard slap across the face. That seems to be happening a lot and it's probably a deeper issue within him upon protecting himself, but it's obvious he's vehemently pissed this woman off and she storms off with her clothes (and his!) Leaving him shirtless and shoeless with the only thing to warm him was the slap across his face. Once she storms off (the best anyone can in sand) he reclines on his wingless back and stares up at the skies before someone shouts for him to toss the volleyball back witch rolled towards him from bouncing off Valrae. He stands to his near seven foot height and looks at Valrae after giving them their ball back. An aching in his heart grows, but on the outside he looks casual as he makes his way to her, “you okay?”
Valrae was jarred awake in just enough time to see Irenic catch a hand across his face. Confused and a little dazed, she blinked her sleepy moss hued eyes at the strange scene until suddenly his looming figure is towering above her and asking her a question. Seeing Irenic with another woman, no matter how poorly the interaction ended, had her heart twisting painfully in her chest. Val's mouth felt hot and dry. Her hair was sleep mussed and sandy, a riotous fall of curls over her shoulders and her back. There was a dark red mark on the bridge of her nose where her arm had rested while she slept, a lighter one where the ball had hit her temple. She drops her hand from her temple and frowns at the familiar stranger. Something was different... Something was missing. "Irenic? What happened to your wings?" The witch chirps gracelessly, scrambling to stand. Val takes a second to dust the dried sand off of her sun warmed legs and her bottom before trotting around him. Her brows furrowed with worry. "What did you do? What about the curse?" She snags her hat on the walk by and pulls it over her mess of golden curls. Looking up at him kept the sun in her eyes.
Irenic watches as this woman stalks around him like prey. “Yes?” He responded to her questioning of his name and when she came around to his back she would be able to see long welts on either side of his spine where his shoulder blades nearly meet. A rather ugly and gruesome sight. The ink covered up crest shaped tattoo looked to have been ripped from his skin and then sewn back on, but only someone who has seen that tattoo marking before this would notice the difference though. His scarred lips part to answer, but something stops him, “do I know you?” Her favorite scent would be granted to her at this proximity, of course, but she would also notice the red mark on his tawny cheek where he was slapped. His lone silver eye, the brown blind one covered by an eye patch, catches movement just in time to reach out and retrieve one of his poorly thrown boots which was heading for Valrae. The woman returned, apparently, to throw his boots back at him, but she has atrocious aim... maybe they stunk that bad? “Pig!!” She screamed at him just as his other boot hit him on his thigh when he sort of recoiled at the assault. He smirked and waved a goodbye to her with his free hand. He doesn't apologize for her either as she storms off again.
Valrae sucks in a startled breath to see the damage that remained where Irenic's wings used to be. The hollow ache in her chest she felt could only be a fraction of what he must be feeling. Bitter sadness washed over her, enough that she almost forgot herself and began to reach out and touch the marks. She pulled herself away though, to stand in front of him and frown. What did he mean 'Do I know you?'? Valrae's lips curve downward and into a serious frown. It felt as if a heavy stone was settling in her stomach. "What do you mea-" Her question was interrupted by her own yelp at the near miss with the boot. If Irenic hadn't been so quick, Valrae would have another mark on her temple. "Hey!" She called after the random woman. "Watch where you throw things!" The witch called, annoyed, after her retreating figure. She glances back at the Avian, her brows furrowed, but he seems unimpressed. "Why is she throwing things? Is she why you're acting like you don't know me?" Her voice trails off into a higher, hopeful pitch. He hadn't actually forgotten her, had he?
Irenic let out a low and short chuckle at the woman's retort to the scorned one. Reaching into one of his boots he pulls out a silver flask and places the boot down next to its twin. He picks up the pair and moves them, but doesn't like that spot, so he moves them again. A twist to the cap and he's drinking from the flask as if it were water in there, but her frowning and questing pull him back to the fact that there felt like he had a pit open up in his stomach for an unknown reason. She asks two questions, but for now he answers one and sort of answers the other in tandem. With a shrug after his free hand smooths the hair back on the top of his head, nervous habit to those who know him, “I don't know. I said her mother is really a looker and the three of us should have relations one night.” Another sip of his flask while that free hand shoves into his pocket of his slacks, “or was it that I was paid by her sister to take her out?” A shrug now, “or the one about if she gained another pound she'd look just like her mom, maybe it was that I have no member and I asked if I can stick my pinky in her-” he remembers his company and only smirks. “I don't recall which one at this time.” It's obvious now that he's probably been saying whatever will piss a woman off to send them away. He reaches out his free hand from his pocket to extend a hand to her, “Irenic, it's a pleasure to meet me... I'm sure,” it was sarcasm, obvious in his dry tone and devilish smirk.
Valrae watches Irenic drink from his flask and can't help but remember the night they met. He'd been a stranger but she'd taken his hand anyway because she'd always hoped to fly... After, he'd left his flask with her, so they would have to see each other again. He'd been confident and sure of himself then, just brushing at arrogance before but always tempered with unmistakable charm and a handsome smirk.. Now, well. Her frown only deepens as he explains why there was a random, partially naked woman screaming and throwing things at him. "Ire-..." The witch had started to sigh his name in exasperation, maybe even give him a bit of grief for treating the woman poorly, when he introduces himself as if they really had never met. Her face falls, unbridled in her sadness. He knew that wasn't funny! The first morning she'd been out of prison, when Irenic finally made it home bloody and beaten for her, she'd wept in his arms and told him her deepest insecurity was being forgotten. He had comforted her then, why would he use that to mock her now? Was he really so angry? She takes a step away from the avian. "You know, I was definitely the one in the wrong for hurting you, Irenic..." Val's eyes are wide, blinking rapidly to bite back the tears threatening to form, and endlessly sad. "But the difference between you and I is that I never hurt you intentionally." Because her heart felt torn and raw, and because she was embarrassed, the witch turned heel in the sand and started collecting her things. The cloying scent of home, herbs and lemon wax and the forest when it rains, all now her favorite things wreathed around her as she struggled to breath around the rising knot in her throat. Her eyes blurred with tears as she moved mechanically, slipping back into her gossamer skirt, lost in memories she assumed Irenic also still had. Swimming in the cove, watching the stars fall, dancing at the Witch's Ball, how he held her those nights after prison and how he'd never complained about living a life constantly on the run... Burying Quizzical. She remembered how it felt in his arms, how easy it was to get lost in conversation and stay in libraries until they were asked to leave, the way his eyes looked when he laughed and when he cried. She was still trying to mend the empty, ragged place he'd left in her heart and in her life because she'd messed things up so spectacularly. Thinking he was this angry with her only twisted the knife more.
Irenic watched this stranger practically fall apart before him and his expression falls as well, but more confused than anything, “w-what?” The more he stands there the more he could feel his heart hurt because as corny as it is that his mind may have forgotten her his heart did not. His hand that he had extended to her recoils and rubs the peck over his heart as if that would ease the pain. “Hurt me?” This was the second time he’s come in contact with someone he does not remember and they mention they wronged him, but that cannot be right because he’s the arse. His head was swimming, but not from his drink and the flask drops to the sand. He’s only felt this ache once, when he didn’t have the eye patch on at the protest and he saw some guised up woman with Meri. “Merde,” he grunted out when he noticed that he dropped the flask and went to bend over and pick it up. That made everything worse and he stood right back up with a bit of a stagger with one hand at his chest and the other at his head, but least dramatic as possible since his body was trying to tell him something his mind could not remember. Forgetting her was a selfish move for sure even if it was a failed attempt to end his curse because any longer shifting by day and night he would had surely gone entirely crazy. He hated waking up in the morning and not knowing where he was or why he was there mostly due to the fact that he has obsessive compulsive disorder born of control issues which were cultivated as an orphan. As Valrae was trying to pack her things up and leave she would find she kept ‘dropping’ things or objects were scooting just out of reach as if being moved by an unseen entity…. It was Quizzical and Irenic attempts to whisper to nothing at all, “stop - just let her go. Leave her alone, Pete.” Pete was Quizzical’s real name.
Valrae | By the third attempt to reach her bag and having it be tugged away from her unsuspecting fingers by some unseen force, Valrae had whirled around to glare through her tears at Irenic. She didn't remember him having any kind of magical ability to move objects but that didn't mean anything. Her head and heart were too busy rebelling against the idea that Irenic had actually been mad enough to erase her to notice the chill in the air or the sense of something... That was pressing at the back of her mind. Just as her watery green gaze meets him, he whispers to what she can only assume is himself but uses the name Pete... And he seemed strained or in pain, holding his chest as he was. Confusion shoves itself into the place hurt had reigned. "What are you doing?" She asks, voice raw and hesitant. The witch pushes at the curls of dark honey and gold that have stubbornly found their way into her eyes. "Why are doing this? I told you I'm sorry- I am so sorry. I never meant for anything to happen but I can't take it back. I... I would but I can't. It was just a mistake, okay? I'm sorry." She still can't believe Irenic would have absolutely no memory of her, her mind rejecting the thought entirely because it's too painful. Tears slip down her sun reddened cheeks now, smear her dark eye makeup a little. "Please, Irenic... Please don't do this. Please don't treat me like a stranger." Her voice and face were open and painfully vulnerable, pleading for some other truth. Any moment now he would give her that devil-may-care smirk and tell her not to be so dramatic, everything was all right... Wouldn't he?
Irenic wasn’t looking at her anymore, but the air in front of her just as she would feel a chill on her cheek where the tear is. Quizzical was talking and this woman was talking even though she can’t hear the ghost. He had slowly lowered himself on his knees sinking into the sand trying to distract himself by picking up the empty flask and sealing it shut. Her tears made everything worse and he thought ‘this is it - this is how I die.’ A slew of mumbled curse words emit from a clenched jaw and passed scarred lips while the lone silver eye follows the invisible trail around Valrae to which was playing at her hair and trying to grasp around her arm to pull her towards Irenic once more. “Quizzy, not now…” He was quiet for a long moment, “okay, okay… I’ll tell her, but don’t bet on it.” He seemed to have completely lost his mind, talking to no one, “first… I am as selfish as I am stubborn, but also foolish to think I would never bump into you.” A sigh as he slowly got himself back up, “no matter on erasing the moments as it seems you’ve imprinted yourself on me, but I was also a fool to think that forgetting you would reverse that damn curse…” His jaw clenched again looking down into the sand because it is very difficult for avains to admit their faults, “Secondly, Pete… Or Quizzical remembers you fondly and he says that you shouldn’t give up on finding the buried treasure.” A shrug to prove that he doesn’t exactly know what this means, but the finally looks back to Valrae fully expecting for her to call him crazy, slap him and walk off.
Valrae's eyes suddenly widen, her shaking hand reaching up where she could have sworn she felt the touch of a cold hand. There was no hand though, only air and her tear stained cheek. Irenic kneels, fiddles with his flask and mutters a name that makes a bitter sadness swell in her chest. "What?" Suddenly, Val is taking steps toward him and reaching out. "Quiz? Quizzical is here?" Her voice and hands are shaking. Because Val is a witch, it's easy enough for her to accept the presence of a spirit. She cannot see or hear them, but her senses are sharper than those not magically inclined.. And she just wanted to believe she could speak to the curious, bright boy she'd fallen so quickly in love with. She searches Irenic's face as he speaks. Suddenly, the painful reality of Irenic having erased all their memories together was too hard to stave off but... A little more bearable to think that it was from preservation and not because he had grown to hate her so much he could no longer stand them. Before she could really process this, or the emotions that followed, Irenic had moved on. Speaking for Quizzical and breaking her heart. The trembling hand she had reached out to the avian with was pulled back to cover her mouth. Silent tears streamed over her cheeks now. For a while, she couldn't speak... Just blink at Irenic and around the beach as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing, or that maybe the boy would materialize from the suddenly cold air. "Oh, Quiz... I miss you so much!" She finally says, looking a little shy and embarrassed to be speaking to air.
Irenic nodded once then motioned down to the sand where it looked as if a little invisible finger traced a U and a number two so she knows he is there and he misses her too, but that probably gave away the fact he wasn’t so good with the writing as he was only nine and grew up in the orphanage. She might feel some more chilly touches before Irenic clears his throat, “I don’t want to know whatever it was because I know it doesn’t matter, but he unfortunately watched what happened to me after we split.” He shrugs subtly, but she would know how much of a failure this was for him because he just wanted to be everything the boy thought he was. “He want’s to know I’ll be taken care of,” spoken in a sort of mumble as he rolls his eyes sort of and shakes his head. “I’m a grown man though. I can take care of myself,” says the man with liquor on his breath in the middle of the day and a fading pink handprint on his cheek. At this time sand dusts up towards him as if it were kicked at him, “Pete. I told her.” He kneels back down into the sand and looks straight ahead as if he were face to face with the boy, “can you do me a favor? Can you go into the light now so that I know -you- are taken care of?” There was some silence that followed, “I don’t know, I think you can only see it…” His usual nervous tick coming out as his hand smooths that dusky greying hair back on the top of his head, but maybe only Valrae would notice the bit of tear rimming his eyelid while he seems to continue a conversation, “you do? That’s good. It means you were not forgotten and they were just waiting then…” His head dips just slightly and a nod, “yeah I’ll miss you, too... Quizzy. I’ll see you sooner than you think.” Irenic watches as Pete goes into the light and stands up slowly while slyly wiping his eye whenever Valrae might glance away.
Valrae watched Quizzical's spirit move the sand to help her orientate herself and swiped at her tears. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Quiz. I'm sorry we didn't have more time, the three of us. I'll keep looking for that treasure for you. You won't be forgotten." The witch gave Irenic some serious side eye and a deep frown when he muttered to himself about not needing help. She didn't believe that for a second, but he'd made it painfully clear how much he wanted that help from her. Valrae watched, without really seeing, as the avian coaxed Pete's spirit to the other side. She felt a breeze that wasn't there run through her hair and knew it was over... That Quizzical had gone. Val looked away from Irenic, to give him a moment of privacy and snatch up her bag. She starts to walk away, telling herself not to turn around... But she does. "Irenic... I... I don't really understand what just happened and I guess you don't remember me or the time we spent with Quiz but... I was happy so.. Thank you. I'm sorry you had to erase me." She turns again, walking down the beach with the sun sinking toward the sea and her heart at his feet.
Irenic looked up when Valrae came back and it was as if he really saw her for the first time again watching her lips as she speaks. That chilling silver eye lingering on her facial features like smoke and even through the eye patch, the tawny skin, crow's feet, scars and slapped face of a rough callous man - there was something soft or kind only for her about his expression. He doesn’t know why, but when she tried to go again his hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her in for an embrace. Strong warm forearms wrap easily around her shoulders and his head tilted down until his forehead was resting on her golden colored hair “the only thing I remember is how I only found comfort in a bottle night after night after whatever happened, so I must have had to be pretty happy, too. Especially if it activated that curse.” If she accepted the hug it would feel the same only without the warmth of his velvety wings and a sort of skipping of his heartbeat as if there was something missing. Again, as if by muscle memory he kisses the top of her head where her hair parts and barely whispers, “me too…” in response to the part about having to erase her. Tensing up as if he was realizing something was wrong and quickly pulling away, “I-I’m, no, apologies I don’t know what I was thinking…” The pang in his chest never stopping, “I-I’ve got to go, s-sorry. So sorry.” He smoothed his hair back again and started speed walking/nearly trotting in the opposite direction she was about to go. He was headed away from town and won’t stop until he’s sure the embarrassing moment was behind him.