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 Posted: Wed Apr 16, 2014 3:20 pm
He hadn't been prepared for that last attack.
The hookshot came straight at him, collided with Alistaire's chest, and sent him careening backwards with a gasp. He landed with a crash on the ground, a gasp forced out of him by the impact of his back against the hard surface beneath him, and every bone in his body vibrating.
For a moment he just lay there, his head spinning - and then the familiar nausea rose in his stomach, and he could almost feel the dirt and grass as though it was pressing through his clothing and touching his bare skin; tiny, filthy brushes against him, and his face was pale and clammy as Alistaire rolled over onto his hands and knees, fingers clenched into fists against his palms.
He thought he might heave, his stomach twisting; and his body jerked once, twice, almost giving truth to that fear - but he forced it down, gritted his teeth together, swallowed back the bile rising in his throat.
Control. Stay in control. // Grimshaw hissed, and Alistaire closed his eyes briefly. He pushed himself onto his knees, his back to Harland, and took a deep, steadying breath.
"Nobody believes in me," he said flatly, truthfully. Alistaire pushed himself to his feet again, twisting to look at Harland, cheeks flushed in humiliation at the loss, at his loss, anger at himself for losing so easily and to someone like Harland.
"You're just like Ian," Alistaire said, after a moment. "The same terrible naivete, like if you just believe in something, it might come true. But life doesn't work that way just because you want it to."
[ HP: 2 ]
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Posted: Wed Apr 16, 2014 3:28 pm
Harland had just enough energy to press the pressure plate and take his hookshot back before he had to stop everything and concentrate on just staying alert. Harland had one knee bent, and was slowly sagging further and further, until his back was entirely bent and he was literally using his knee's square angle to brace himself, the other leg out.
He focused on the sound of his breathing, steadying it, slowly.
☆≼That's my boy,≽ Coyote approved, and hushed him gently. ☆≼The pain will stop, soon. You should have run when I told you to, Cowboy,≽ he said. Harland shook his head.
Harland was about to reply again, try to reassure Alistaire. As far as Harland was concerned, Alistaire hadn't lost; it was a desperate man's move, the last blow in their fight, and Harland had no desire to claim this as a victory. He just thought maybe if they were going to play head games, he'd rather show Alistaire he wanted to be honest. What was more honest than a brawl?
When he heard Ian's name, Harland's sun-kissed skin seemed to blanch, the shadows under his eyes suddenly looking more apparently gaunt. He smiled, but it had no joy in it: "Naw, mo chroi. I'm nothing like Ian," he said, "I don't have a single reason to believe it will work out."
He's not alone, Harland thought, sadly.
"Hey, what did you do last Valentine's?" Harland asked, suddenly. His knee buckled under him, and he fell forward, until he allowed himself to collapse onto his back and lie there, looking up. He smiled gently to himself, waiting for an answer. He should really be helping Alistaire up, and somewhere cozy to heal, but he didn't think he could get up.
"Do you need a hand up?" Harland asked politely. From the ground.
[[ hp : 6 ]]
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Posted: Wed Apr 16, 2014 3:35 pm
Alistaire passed a look towards Harland, his keen eyes not missing the reaction to his brother's name. Clearly Harland knew who Ian was, though he wasn't entirely certain whether the cowboy had made the connection between the two men.
What an interesting man, Alistaire thought. Harland's question, however, caught him entirely off guard.
"Last Valentine's?" Alistaire repeated, looking, for the first time, slightly taken aback. He pressed his lips together and scowled, brows drawing together in annoyance. "Nothing. It's a ridiculous holiday, and I saw no point in participating in something so frivolous."
It was mostly true, but it was also because Alistaire had never really seen a purpose to a holiday aimed at only those who believed in love and romance and other such nonsense. He stared at Harland, and at the offered hand, and tried not to think about the fact that it was difficult to breathe now, after having touched the ground.
He wanted desperately to shower.
"No," said Alistaire flatly, "thank you. I'm just fine on my own."
He stood up abruptly, as though to prove exactly this, swayed unsteadily, and collapsed back to the ground again, so dizzy he almost threw up again.
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Posted: Wed Apr 16, 2014 3:43 pm
Harland had not, in fact, realized Ian was related to Alistaire. He had a memory like a steel trap, sure, but he was a little bit slow sometimes. How could cute, alluring Ian be related to the steel edge of Alistaire's personality? Impossible. Sure, if he'd looked at their appearances he might have spotted resemblances, but since he never even considered two family members could be at Deus it never occured to him for a second he was dealing with a sibling pair.
"Aye," he said, in response to Alistaire's sort-of-question, followed by a smile because he seemed to have asked something Alistaire didn't know how to answer. Except he was glad that Alistaire did. "I didnae do anything either," Harland said, his voice weirdly sunny, "gave up on a promise I had. Didn't seem right to hold 'em to it. Love's funny that way. Definitely believe in it, though," Harland said, and tried to laugh.
Which turned into coughing, because f*ck that hurt. Harland, groaning, sat up. Breathing hard, and sweating from the effort, he then pushed onto his knees. From his knees, into a standing position.
He was pretty beat up, and was running mainly on adrenaline now. Adrenaline and his devil-may-care attitude for his personal wellbeing.
"Yeah. You're fine, 'n all, but I get nervous when there's someone on the ground and they could use some rest. Let's call it a phobia," Harland said, trying to look serious and also stay standing at the same time.
It was really tough. He swayed a couple times, but always caught himself. He looked a bit drunk.
"I don't think I can manage a fireman's carry, but I can manage a brace," he said. His hand was still extended. "Y' know, for a friend I believe in," he added.
And he meant it.
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Posted: Wed Apr 16, 2014 3:55 pm
Alistaire turned a sharp eyed glare towards Harland, curious in spite of himself. "Love is a useless emotion," he said. "There's nothing to be had from it, and all it does is leave you with less intelligence than before. There is very little to be said for someone who puts all of their strength into trying to convince someone else that they 'belong' together."
He was still on the ground and it was still painful, still agony. He wanted to throw up, but he wanted to keep some semblance of his respect in tact, Alistaire gripping his hands so tightly his hands were white beneath the gloves.
The word phobia struck an unintentional chord.
"I don't," Alistaire hissed, "NEED YOUR HELP! DON'T TOUCH ME!"
The last part was screamed, his voice raw and hoarse, and trembling slightly. Alistaire's face was deathly white, his skin pallid with the effort of keeping everything in control, and he wanted to disappear, wanted to get away from everything, but moving would require an effort he didn't have anymore.
He clenched his hands together and stayed there on the ground only because he couldn't get up.
"I don't have friends," he snapped. "Friends are useless."
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Posted: Wed Apr 16, 2014 4:02 pm
Harland didn't say anything at the outburst, didn't move to touch Alistaire and didn't say anything at first. He just let himself collapse into something resembling a sitting position, near Alistaire but hardly close enough to be considered contact.
He just leaned back and did his best to mentally manage the pain, until Alistaire said he didn't have friends, and that they were useless. Harland, despite himself, burst into painful laughter. Once he had calmed down, his eyes tearing up in equal mix mirth and searing pain, he said: "Ye sound like a child throwin' a tantrum," he said, shaking his head.
"Well, I'll be your friend, and you don't have to be mine. How about that?" he said, rolling his stiff neck.
At which point, he volunteered a secret. A very dear secret, that no one living or dead had heard, on account of it being relatively new. "I woulda given nearly anythin' to redo the night I almost kissed someone. For the first, and woulda been the last, time," he said. "I try not t' regret 'n all, but..." he shrugged a shoulder.
He really wanted to wash the pain away, to sleep. He was feeling delirious. "I'd been hopin' to spend Valentine's with Ian," he volunteered, finally. That was his secret. And he gave it to Alistaire not knowing who he was, and gave it to him suspecting what kind of person he was.
Somewhere in him, he seriously believed Alistaire could turn a new leaf. But he was also seriously prepared to be disappointed many times over before that happened.
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Posted: Wed Apr 16, 2014 7:34 pm
He was trying very hard not to vomit, his fingers still trembling in the white gloves he always wore over his hands. The smell of the dirt made him physically nauseated, and it was with a great amount of effort that Alistaire forced himself to stand, though he swayed rather violently for a moment, almost tipping over again.
"I am not," said Alistaire thickly, "a child."
In the haze of his dizziness and pain a light had clicked on somewhere inside of Alistaire's head. He turned slowly back around to look at Harland, and there was a strange glint in his eyes, a peculiar, inscrutable glittering to them. He took an unsteady step towards Harland.
"Ian?" he repeated the name, rolling it over on his tongue. "Let me tell you one thing, Mr. Belle. Regrets serve no purpose, none at all. Do what you want with your life, and if something happens that wasn't supposed to happen, or that you didn't anticipate, accept it. Don't just wallow in regrets because you can't change what's already happened."
The speech almost sounded rehearsed; as though Alistaire had said it many times before, whether in his head or to someone else. He swayed again, praying for the simple strength to stand upright, and looked back down at Harland.
"I told you already," he said. "Valentine's Day is a useless holiday, and there are better things to do on February 14th than mope around wishing you could have spent it with my brother."
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Posted: Wed Apr 16, 2014 8:02 pm
Harland couldn't even begin to grasp the idea that Alistaire could be sick from the smell of dirt. He just thought the man had taken a bit too much all at once. "So don't sulk like one," Harland said, with a smile and another shrug.
Harland watched Alistaire as the man took a step towards him. "Mr. Belle. Haven't been called that in a while," Harland said. It seemed like the regrets speech had rolled off him like water off a cowboy hatted duck. "If this is wallowin', life could be worse," he finally said. At least that was a little more on track.
It really wasn't that he was pining. He was just seldom interested in anyone, so that when he was, they stayed in his heart and mind a little longer than they ought to. Harland wondered, briefly, if Alistaire was well-acquainted with regrets. It would explain the bitterness a bit.
"Thinkin' of someone you care for's not--" and then Harland really let the words sink in.
His brother.
"The diabhal in my life, of course that'd be your brother," Harland said, using his best manners not to stare at Alistaire's face and search for all the similarities. Was that why Harland was so interested in Alistaire's wellbeing? "Well, maybe I'll go play minigolf next Valentine's day instead," he added cheerfully. "Wish I coulda known for myself what it'd've been like, though. Just once, that woulda been enough," he said, brushing two of his calloused fingers to his lip, eyes cast off looking at something that wasn't quite there. A memory.
He was very clearly a little out of it. Maybe? It was hard to tell, because he just seemed so simple-minded again it was hard to tell if there was anything else going on under the surface.
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Posted: Wed Apr 16, 2014 9:15 pm
He had called him "Mr. Belle" mostly because they were not on a name to name basis; and Alistaire was nothing if not annoyed by the easy familiarity, the casual camaraderie some people automatically assumed when meeting someone.
It was all just pretending.
Harland made the connection a few moments later, Alistaire still swaying where he stood on unsteady legs threatening to give away beneath him at any moment. His fingers curled into the palms of his hands and then uncurled again, his pallid face turning back towards Harland as he scrutinized his reaction.
"Ian's my little brother," Alistaire said flatly. "We're eighteen months apart. I got here after he did, however, but that doesn't change the fact that we're still brothers."
Harland was, in a word, confusing. One moment he was talking about being friends, the next moment he was talking about wanting to kiss Ian. A seesaw of emotions, back and forth and back and forth. Alistaire's expression darkened slightly.
"Seems like everyone's wanting to mess around with Ian," he said flatly. "Let me tell you, you've dodged a bullet, Mr. Belle. My brother is incapable of loving anyone, at least at the present moment. You think you have the heartache now, but believe me, if anything had happened with him, that heartache would be magnified tenfold."
His fingers were still clenching and unclenching.
"You sound as though you're inexperienced in romance, Mr. Bell. Perhaps that should be a sign."
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Posted: Thu Apr 17, 2014 6:55 am
Harland always tried his best not to make others feel uncomfortable, but he wasn't always successful. It was very difficult for him not to reach out and steady Alistaire, but he crossed his arms over his chest and took a tentative step towards the dorms. "I won't touch ye, but maybe you'll let me escort you back to the dormitories?" he suggested. He also wanted to go home, after all.
But he didn't want to leave Alistaire there.
"Hey, now. Don't be givin' away people's secrets like that, ye ken?" Harland shook his head, "Whatever Ian's doin', or done, I've no interest in knowin' because it won't change anythin'." Harland didn't want to hear ill of his friend, after all. Whether or not he was around, whether or not they'd ever spend time together again outside of Deus missions.
He laughed when Alistaire suggested he was inexperienced, and neither confirmed nor denied it. He just said: "Nothin's ever like it is in the movies, wouldn't you say?" Harland tipped his cowboy hat on, took off his red bandanna and wiped his face with it, clearing off the dirt and sweat. He tucked it back into his jean pockets.
He took another step towards the dorms, and faced Alistaire.
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Posted: Thu Apr 17, 2014 8:28 pm
He gave Harland a dirty look, brows drawn, jaw set, lips pressed together in a firm line. The color of his face was still a sickly, pale white, Alistaire seemingly unable to keep himself from swaying from side to side, though he was clearly trying very desperately to stay upright.
"I'm not giving away people's secrets," he snapped in annoyance. "I'm merely explaining to you the reasons why you're better off not pining over a man who isn't worth your time. My brother may be a lot of things, but a man fit for a relationship?"
He snorted derisively. "Yeah, right. You would have had your heart broken in a thousand pieces."
The laughter was simultaneously confusing and irritating, because Alistaire wasn't sure what to make of it. He straightened a little, staggering a few steps back away from Harland as the other stepped towards him, a look of mild panic on his pale face.
"The movies are s**t," he said, the usually eloquent speech slipping with the fuzziness of his brain. "And so is anyone who believes that they're anything but that. Prove me wrong, Mr. Belle, but you seem the sort to believe the good in anyone, regardless of their circumstances."
He tried to walk, failed, and dropped down to one knee, flinching violently.
"That sort of naivete will be the death of you."
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Posted: Sat Apr 19, 2014 11:40 am
It was physically very difficult for Harland not to reach out to the other Hunter and brace him, when it looked like he might collapse at any moment. He flinched a few times, hand reaching to help, before he remembered and pulled away.
"I get to decide who I pine after, anyway. I'd've told someone off for speakin' ill of you, too, at any rate," Harland replied, with a shrug. He smiled at the thought of having his heart broken. "An' then I'd get to listen to Heartbreak Hotel on loop for days, an' mope around till I was done bein' useless. Seems like fun, don't you think?"
Alistaire seemed to be eager to lash out at just about anything that could make Harland happy. Which made the Irish-American worry more, and his sunny face betrayed his concern; he turned his face away, so that Alistaire maybe wouldn't see his worry as clearly.
He followed Alistaire, and it seemed to hurt Harland that he couldn't stop the man from falling. But he'd promised. Harland approached as slowly as he could, trying to let Alistaire know he wasn't going to touch him. He bent down on one knee, too, facing Alistaire. "You're right. I believe there's good in everyone, if you can make it worth their while to let it show," Harland said, quietly.
"An' I don't mind if it kills me. If believing in someone else is the only good I can do for my whole life, then it'll've been worth it in the grave. But I don't intend on dyin' anytime soon, mo chroi; life's been okay so far, I look forward to decades of it bein' okay in the future." Harland smiled at Alistaire, and waited till the other man could stand again to make sure he could keep getting back to the dorm.
Harland was also glad for the rest, because he was aching all over.
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Posted: Sat Apr 19, 2014 8:23 pm
Alistaire gave a most ungraceful snort. There was naive, and then there was just plain stupid, and it seemed to him as though Harland was leaning much more towards the latter of the two. "You're never going to get anywhere in life pining," he said scathingly. "Especially when it's over someone as unworthy as my brother."
What was wrong with this guy? Why couldn't he see the problems with how he was feeling? Alistaire tried to get back up, but the strength had gone from his legs, and he stayed where he was, his breathing shallow, sweat sliding down the side of his face.
Harland's face appeared in his line of vision, slightly blurry.
"Then go ahead and believe what you want to believe," Alistaire spat out, and he lifted a hand, curled it into the front of Harland's shirt and twisted, his fingers trembling, his face growing paler by the second. "Just watch, Mr. Belle. You're never going to make it far."
The grip he had on Harland loosened and fell away; and Alistaire slowly slid sideways onto the ground, eyes closed, completely out.
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Posted: Sat Apr 19, 2014 8:38 pm
Thankfully, Alistaire being in a bad mood meant that Harland had generally set himself to disregard whatever things he said. He seemed hellbent on ruining Harland's enthusiasm. "I will, thanks," Harland said, quietly, leaning back. He tugged his duster closer.
What he didn't expect was for Alistaire to grab hold of his shirt, twisting it in his hand. "Unhuh. For the record, wasn't me who reached out to touch you, mo chroi," Harland said, his face somewhere between exhaustion and concern. Harland was admittedly pretty worried about Alistaire, but didn't know where to bring him and he also wasn't keen on explaining how Alistaire had moved while unconscious to wake up somewhere he hadn't left.
Instead, Harland used his newly gleaned knowledge and texted Ian. It also contained the details of where they were, as far as Harland could tell. He'd try to stay lucid until, hopefully, Ian either arrived or told him to move his brother himself.text to Ian Your brother and I got in a bit of an altercation. He's passed out, exhausted. I don't feel comfortable moving him. Any chance you can come to the rescue, a dhiabhal?
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Posted: Sat Apr 19, 2014 8:56 pm
Ian wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with anyone, let alone a passed out brother. But Harland meant well, and Ian couldn't really ignore him. So he sighed, dragged himself out of bed, pulled on a pair of dark jeans, and made his way out of the room (Alistaire's room, ironically enough), padding down the dormitory hallway to the exit.
He arrived a few minutes later, hands tucked into his pants, his hair flipping slightly in the light breeze.
"You two look like s**t," was all he said for a greeting.
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