Welcome to Gaia! ::

Cryolite was, admittedly, a bit in shock, and for a while he simply lay there staring; off and up and beyond himself and all physical boundaries between this world and the vastness of space beyond. Straight through the vaulted ceilings, mapped in dark stained woods, and halls trimmed with brassy golds. The old meeting the new in a soft meld of themes; busts of scholars of the distant past heading off points of entry into zones; fiction, non, etc. Sitting rooms made for the present that nearly clashed, in all their softness, with the places of study that had been built out of hard, sturdy, trees carved so tightly they could’ve been mistaken as being petrified.

He was glad for the modernity though, the soft space ensconced just beyond what would've been a busy area; had this been during the day instead of, say, about 2am? He was glad for where he found himself, plush chaises coated in chenelle and corduroy, large bean bags that had likely been voted in by the student populus. The way he sprawled on the soft space now; fingers dug into his over-long bangs, endless splay of rapunzel-esq, straw-gold hair an utter mess beneath him—

Nikki—

Oh, and he didn’t care if the lapels of his barely there ensemble were soaked through with her tears, if his chest was damp just beneath that thin barrier of cloth. If the hole where his soul was supposed to be ached something fiercely. His eyes were dry, and red, and they burned with a rawness at the edges—because for all that there was the joke of his name? He couldn’t find it within himself to cry a single tear more. Was all cried out, in fact. The edges of his flowing sleeves told the tale of it.

The way his body longed for something far more restful than a nap….

The way his mind burned just as fiercely, as the shock and sadness ebbed, and distantly he realized there was anger somewhere beneath all of that, and determination, and a cold, cold, icy fire. Something solid enough that he knew if he reached for it? He could’ve touched it. Flicked its surface and listened to it chime harshly back at him. So, very, solid. And comforting, almost, in a way? The way having a wall to throw oneself against was comforting when frustrations peaked and overflowed, the way he could do it mentally—

Because he valued his hands, and walking into work looking freshly out of a brawl he’d lost to a ventilation system? Was really not an option.

“I stayed…” the words barely a sigh, and he held himself still as she shuffled herself into a better position, too settled in to disturb his own comfort with the motion, too cautious to spook her by reaching out. He let her have his hand automatically, and nearly listened without hearing her words. The way his brain was whirring on behind the scenes like an overheated fan begging for more power—

It made Syrus realize with stark clarity about how many times he’d ever actually been over to Matt’s house? He could say he knew where the man lived, couldn’t he? Or that he had an address tucked away somewhere. Surely, but could he say he’d spent the night anytime in the recent past? That he’d stayed well into the morning to eat breakfast with the man he called ‘fiance’ – or had been introduced to that same man's precious family come the morning after that? He knew the place, of course, but to say he knew the space, and outlines of every wall well enough to simply teleport within them and follow – and stay – and…..

That would’ve been a lie. He could’ve followed Matt. He could’ve. To Matt’s front door and no further, not with the way everything else that made up the man's home sat as a smudge in his mind. Where instead there should’ve been clear, sharp details, there were basic blurs and a Matt-centric color pallet.

“I can see it…” soft and scratchy, his voice a rasp, and though he’d never asked for details he’d witnessed the aftermath twice over. The breakup, and the glorious ‘final breakup’ that had followed not long after that. The hilarity of spending multiple nights listening to the prideful retelling of a loss, a story played out in jagged, haphazard pieces. The way only Waru could do. And now he could see the similarities as clear as day between the two men, could see the differences also. Maybe that was why Waru had been so adamant about taking Fulgurite on? Why the two men ultimately mixed together so poorly like frozen turkeys dunked in scalding oil?

Maybe…

But no, all similarities or dissimilarities aside, he did see where the raw rub in the issue lay. Not with himself, not with Nikki either. “...and I can assure you…it’s nothing to do with you, Nikki.” hummed almost sleepily as he tightened his grip in hers, just for a second, like stretching an ache out of his fingers before settling again with his gaze cast up at invisible stars.

“This—debacle? Has nothing to do with your cleverness, cuteness, or any lack thereof. I cannot, for one, fathom Albite thinking anyone else in the cosmos ‘dumber’ than himself. Even on a technicality” for he’d watched that man assign sentience to silverware, spirits, and car parts. Fulgurite however? ******** Matt. “….and Fulgurite…” He heaved a sigh as if to steady himself, thought he had an answer in his grasp, the beginning threads of it. But this wasn’t about solving a problem right now, was it? Not technically. No, he thought this was about surviving the aftermath of chernobyl and finding a way to come out the backside of such an event's consequences all the stronger.

“Tell me something….” and he did finally look at her directly, tracked the tear stains down her cheeks, frowned for the urge to wipe them away and simply collect her back into the silence of his arms again. A shame how doing so wouldn’t get him anywhere, so instead he spoke – “...why do you love them – either of them? When you did—if you did?”

He didn’t want to speak of Fulgurite in past tense terms. Not for her, not for himself. He couldn’t bear it right now, felt the way the very thought threatened to undo every ephemeral thing that was holding him together. And he wasn’t about to ask after himself, where he fit in this odd puzzle, because love hadn’t been their word for each other. They’d settled on ‘like’, on slow burns and long nights spent talking breaking down the details of how they were who they were with each other, however infrequently those moments had been. He’d thought—Oh, so many things, and now here he lay realizing just exactly how wrong he’d thought. All his assumptions biting him in the a**.

‘So she does love him. No matter what.’

“He does hate it…” Soft, hitched and he was nodding as though her words had affirmed something for him. Her sudden absence left him feeling cold, with an urge to shuffle so he could lounge and watch her. Propping his head in the crook of his elbow, tucking his long, winnowy legs up almost underneath himself. Content to observer her getting her bright and ceaseless energy out while he conserved his own—

“But does he love *us* more than he fears them? More than he hates them?” The utter irony in his tone, written all over his face that he’d assumed he’d be the one alone on the other side of things, that Nikki and Matt would be together, and someday, maybe? Maybe not? He would've joined them.

And now——

“Is love even enough?” he wanted it to be, let the growl of words come just as softly before it was washed out with the exhausted tide that existed in his own mind. Rubbing at his sore eyes as he spoke, and tried not to bolt after Matt — here and now — in the wake of Nikki’s sobbing. Tried to make himself stay, and brutally puzzle his own thoughts out to some sort of conclusion. “Because the threat was—-it had been—-but love alone?” He scoffed, and sat up properly. “It’s maybe easier for me to give everything up, and I recognize that now. The same as I realize the fact that there’s no force in the world Albite would ever *leave* for. No one true love, no favorite person, no universe ending deity…”

He’d thought there was for Fulgurite, that the world where his lover left and purified waited around every hedge, corner, and column. He didn’t know why he’d thought that—how he’d been so wrong—and maybe, privately? He’d been smitten over the idea that *he* was the thing keeping Fulgurite here!! Himself. The man's family. It was hideously romantic and unfair to Nikki all at once. But still he’d thought it. And yet— here they were without their third, here he sat with a building headache and a sore heart, sighing gruffly in the face of it all. Angry with himself for just how wrong he’d always been without knowing it.

Too damn smart for his own good…

Too happy to make plans! Oh, always to do that.

“But there never was. Not where Albite’s concerned.” He’d thought Fulgurite was different, wondered if he’d had that wrong too? It was possible. And Cryolite certainly got that now, understood it with a harsh sort of clarity. Understood it the same way he understood the likely reason why, now, Waru had dragged him into this without asking first. Oh, thes ways Syrus thought he must’ve made it seem okay for the other man to do. Because hadn’t he been fine with everything that had come before? Content to use Waru and be used in turn. To take advantage of the man in his own, loving ways. It was nice, so long as he had stayed utterly unaware of the other life he’d lived. So long as he hadn’t asked questions, or looked twice, or pondered for even a second ‘how’ the himbo did anything he did. It was only once he realized what was behind the curtain that he flinched from the truth of it all. Oh, but hadn’t he loved his just desserts so long as he hadn’t known the way they were made?

The irony of that was hardly beyond him—

Especially not now. Garbed in black and knowing where it came from, watching Nikki and knowing she’d come from the same source too — that Fulgurite, ultimately, had served within the thrall of it so long. It was almost hilarious for him to think that asking Matt to leave could be enough, that love alone could!! That Fulgurite would somehow operate differently than Waru? Two men with families, friends, and loves who had been inundated in it – even if the length of time was different – Cryolite was kicking himself over not seeing how this very thing could’ve been a problem all the sooner. For thinking himself more important than Matt's family. Than Nikki’s sway on the man, too.

“It’s why everyone else dies poetically — or why he does — middle grounds and happily ever afters are unrealistic fantasies. Even when he entertains them….even when *I* do….there’s the impossible logistics of it all screaming in the background.” busying himself uselessly with neatening things that didn’t need any neatening, even by his own standards. Fidgeting with his skirts, smoothing out his hair from beneath himself into some less than frayed arrangement. His eyes narrowed and alight with rage aimed – oh - at the ground, for now. For all that the fresh onslaught of tears threatened to burn his lashes anew, for all that he tried to fight that—

“Because you’re right, I technically am supposed to be whatever version of ‘stronger’ exists. Closer than you two are, right? Surely not just someone he kisses and tells other people about! Even though he’s had far more time with you than me, no matter that it was before you....…Hah—I’ve even got a nice, pretty ring on to prove it, don’t I? And yet. Here we both are, utterly without him,'' derisive enough that he wished he could’ve spit on – something – not his precious library, but maybe in Metallia’s face?

“But not alone, right? And if you still love him, and gods know I do! Even though he’s being like *this*-- and I don’t care what his ******** excuse is, Nikki. If he thinks I’m giving up on him so easily…if he thinks you are?” His words fiercely hopeful, and he was clinging to them, to the relieving fantasy they offered. He knew it. But there was nothing he believed could be so wrong that Fulgurite couldn’t make a choice – couldn’t tell them that choice – couldn’t let them hear it! There had to be some way through to him….

Nikki had managed it at some point, hadn’t she? They could do it again. They could do it together.

“Well..then…we’ll just have to prove him wrong, won't we?” he didn’t know how, but as he watched her pace he was sure they could find a way. So long as they did it together.

He wanted it to be enough, wouldn’t open his mouth to curelly dissuade her from her passions, to dash her belief in love above all else against the cold, hard ground of logic. If Nikki needed love to be enough? Then Syrus would let it be enough— blinking, even, with soft surprise as her stance shifted, as her tone became more confident.

‘Agape love—’ he felt unfamiliar with the term, like he needed to take a course on things that were, and were not possible in this life. On the notion of unconditional anything, because it sounded like a dream. But maybe that was what the world needed? And it couldn’t hurt, could it? To believe in her impossible dream…and maybe that was what Fulgurite needed too? Something so unconditionally selfless….


He snorted softly at the notion of Fulgurite loving him more, even if his love for them both was different? Syrus wanted to believe it was equal in measure, that Matthew was capable of that. He’d seen it before, hadn’t he? Had seen it work that way for others. Something open across the board and full of love worth dying for! What he didn’t want was oceans of lovers, too vast, and too wide, and too much for even him. Cryolite would admit to himself he wanted something smaller at the center of his life. That deep, deep down, he too wanted something that reflected commitment, a symbol full of worth that he could hold in his heart if not in his hands. He’d always liked being part of a trio…he’d never had to come first in that…not before, and certainly not now!

“If he loves me more right now—” his brief smile a sad wash of a thing, nearly a wince as he fumbled for a way to answer her questions all at once, “then it’s only for now, because I’ll be *changing*, Nikki…” and he wouldn’t leave her hanging on that, wouldn’t lead her on meanly, and make her believe it was only for her and her kisses he would go. The way that would’ve felt like such a disservice, to abandon one side for love and love alone. Especially knowing how love could change, could heat and cool — knowing how he could change…

“Because, yes, I’ll be leaving, no matter what.” The statement hadn’t been only a ploy, a baited trap to lure Fulgurite across lines. He’d meant it, as sporadic as the moment had been. He had meant what he’d said, and he wasn’t about to take the words back now, to make himself a hypocrite in his own eyes. “But I don’t want to think him so fickle…” that he would be the only voice of reason Matt could hear? Above all else, above all others? Oh – what a conflicting absurdity that felt to think. Better to not, to shake it out of his mind and return the gentle squeeze of warmth into Nikki’s hands.

“He’s not, he can’t be.” Cryolite wanted to believe that, had to, that on the other side of it all things would be okay. Matt would still love them both, no matter what, and maybe even still love them enough to join them for his own reasons once he was ready to see reason!

The soft press of lips broke his passive, thoughtful reverie; brought a smile to his face as he traced her lips with his eyes - brought back to the point of listening, leaning into the cleverness of her ideas.

“I agree that he needs that though, from both of us. To take him seriously, to not– hah–bait him with our affections. Now? What's this idea of yours, because I’m willing to try anything at this point. “

He shook his head, smiled, because he liked strategy mode. Needed it. Even if the harsh reality of what she was saying was true. He could purify and Fulgurite might stay and he would need to try and drag him with him now – or pray he remembered the man enough to hunt him down after the fact. He nearly said as much, but then Nikki’s words slid over his ears and nestled between them, like a record scratch.

“I’m sorry, but— reveal myself how, exactly? In what specific context am I revealing things here?” The confusion that sat in his icy gaze, the way it rivaled the hope that had glimmered there briefly before. All his belief in her ‘Agape Love’, the way it all came shattering down like one massive chandelier from above between one blink and the next. The way he opened his mouth to breathe, caught himself, felt the words behind his mind overflowing and spilling out! Because he always had to say something, didn’t he? Always had to puzzle things out and look at every problem from every angle and tear things apart and dissect them with both madness and passion combined – with the lens of a cynic who so desperately wanted to believe in something again—

“As his ‘shared thrice over’ lover? As his secret boyfriend, as the fiancé they’ve never once met? To his ‘family’ who I’ve never been introduced to, or even so much as bumped into at the grocery store. Not that I’d know if I ever had! Hah…” he was spiraling, just a little bit. He could admit that to himself, but to admit it to her? That was a hard task to swallow—like nibbling at the edges of tiny little knives – and he would’ve leaned away except that she *had* him, hands in the lapels of his bodice and too close to escape from. There was no avoiding this, the only path was to run forwards with it and try to make some sense of it all.

“Nikki— I won’t lie, part of the reason I’m so— that it’s easier for me to leave, maybe? Aside from that I’ve no actual blood-family to leave behind,” and he wasn’t going to think of Aramis’s narrow, intelligent eyes, or Warus broad smile and deep laughter, or— All the ways he’d slowly separated himself from them, expecting the other shoe to drop at any given moment. Sewn himself apart from all things, including Matt, in so many small yet important ways! Like he was a black widow in waiting, ordering the mourning veil well in advance. He worked more, saw the others less, ignored the latest mission — ordered by Laurelite herself — and he wasn’t about to dump all of that on Nikki! But?! The reality of what his life had become, what he’d chosen to make of it, the stark spotlight Nikki had shown on it simply by speaking!

He swallowed harshly, nose to nose, sweating even though he shivered like a chill had just run through him. The realization of everything she didn’t know. Everything *he* didn’t know!

“Is that I’ve an ace up my sleeve in the form of a certain brilliant, chaotic, himbicile and my one and only other dearest friend— who’re both far too fond of me to murder me outright over what they think they know is going on in my life right now. Just me. Only me.“ Cryolite sucked in a breath, chewed his bottom lip, was on the verge of shaking his head and shaking himself apart. Because however brilliant Nikki’s plan might’ve been? Oh, the risk inherent in it left him feeling frozen to his core. The way he knew – just – oh Matthew would hate him. Truly. If he didn’t already? He certainly would after all of that—

And if any of Matt’s family were agents? ********— and if Matt had been at this for over a decade and his family didn’t ask? Didn’t wonder!? Not even ******** once?! The man lived with them after all!! The pathways sprawled out, and twisted, and spiraled. Syrus saw himself, briefly, terrifyingly, standing in the place of Waru – as Albite – Oh, pulling on every bit of chaos and just throwing a massive hammer through the life Fulgurite claimed he wanted so badly. The privacy he’d desired so much that he’d taken on power to gain hold of it. His quiet, introverted artist of a lover – a gentle gardner at heart who simply wanted his family left the ******** alone.

‘If I do that? I might as well throw my ring away now—I might as well just leave without him, it’d be kinder…’

“I won’t— I can’t do that to him until I know there’s an honest out. Not just a ‘hope the luck is on our side’ kind of out, either. Because I'm not kidnapping a Princess with the power to save me, am I? No, I need laid out for me an actual….anything? Please, anything at all that rings of order or sanity here. I’d thought Fulgurite would’ve been working on this with *you* — that he — and don’t ask me why I believed he had connections on your side of this! Oh, what insanity took me to have assumed that he’d have already done all of these things when the threat had loomed greatest? Told his family, secured a Princess, used whatever connections you must have?! Because there is no way that ‘Albite’ of all people knows more princesses to call on than an actual agent of Order!” Except it was entirely likely that the man did, it made so much sense, a terrible kind of sense….

Cryolite cracked a little at the thought, found himself laughing, a rusty sound tinged with anger. He wasn’t mad, he wasn’t! He told himself as much. That there was a large portion of this that was on him, for not pushing more, or asking more. For selfishly basking in the snippets of what he was getting. For enjoying all the downtime— knowing the hounds had bigger bones to chew on and the fire lords larger demons to fry. He’d been doing the bare minimum in all things and only keeping up with the people who mattered most. Which was ultimately Tama and Waru and Aramis, as for the rest?!

Okay. He might have been a little mad, now that he squinted at the thought, now that he was actually thinking about it. Not at Matt directly, no, not yet, but in general?

“We spent a whole week making plans, taking his life down in vague increments. I took on more *Chaos* because I’d thought — very stupidly, that I would be staying and if I had a little more power? Then I could help make that transition easier when he ran — I — We bought a ring, Nikki!! Or no, no, I insisted he buy me one..I….” and maybe he needed a hug far more than he needed to try and figure out what to do next. Maybe he needed to cry like this instead, fat, ugly tears over a loss he didn’t want to believe that wouldn’t be soothed simply by staring out into nothing and locking down on himself.

He’d wanted Matt to marry him, so, so badly…

He’d wanted him to stay! He’d been willing to let him go, but he’d wanted—

“I can’t do anything without trying to talk to him again first..I cant…w-we can spitball, or whiteboard, or…whatever yes? But…if I stab him in the back like this, if I do this now, then he’ll hate us both forever. He sounded so resentful even of how I forced him to come out here! This is—it has to be about choice and choosing at the end of the day, doesn’t it? So I can’t force his hand like ********, even if I wanted to?” shaking his head as he cried openly, gross little sniffles. Because a large part of him wanted to do nothing but that.

He understood how Albite had done it now, understood why, oh – how easy a trap it was to fall into. To do something for someone else’s good, in their best interest, to clear the way of obstacles beforehand because you cared so ******** much—

It was to be a comedy then, the Greek kind. The kind where Nikki looked at him like he should have the answers and he looked back at her with that same hope, and together? They were lost.

“I was—I just wanted the one thing from someone…from him….” as if that was an answer, as if that wasn’t terribly selfish of him to demand a ring in exchange for a man's soul. But since Nikki was getting the soul? Hadn’t it seemed fair in the moment? Did it still seem fair now, that, was another question entirely. Syrus wasn’t even sure anymore what was and wasn't fair– “The sex wasn’t enough, the words weren’t enough, the memories? Those wouldn’t be enough. I wanted that one more thing if I was going to, ultimately, lose him to you.”

Which of them was the better of the two, which tactics were worse. Which road did he pick, every venue he spied inside his mind was dizzying and he shut his eyes against them all.

Let his forehead thunk atop her puffy, pink striped shoulder, and just—

“I’m realizing that too…” He sighed, muttered something gruff, turned his head enough that the words could reach the open air. “How much I know him, but also don’t at the same time? His family is so important to him…that they are not a part of my life….He doesn’t want them touched by chaos, and what am I if not a loud, walking, talking liability? I couldn’tve done it to them, you know, met them, and then when they came looking for their missing son…” Cryolite huffed some derisive sound, something just shy of anguish, scrubbed what was left of his tears off on her ruffles.

“And we could force it. We could,” it would’ve been easy as breathing, easy as picking up a phone, easy as calling anyone— calling Faustite and handing over a single line of address and walking away from the aftermath of it all. “But at what cost?” growled somberly, with all sense of defeat looming over him, but Nikki kept on, softly, and Cryolite thought about her question in the silence between them. “He’s not going anywhere, is he? What I want to do – right now – is stay right here in your arms for a while longer…”

“And then? Once I feel like I”m not about to fall into a thousand pieces…. I’ll go find him. While I’m managing that, it would be very helpful to me if you would put this whole – the purification parts into – ufh-- something like progress? You are, after all, very good at that, aren't you.” He needed that right now, for someone to be good at what he was not, for someone to manage what he couldn’t, he had no control over anyone else – save himself – and as far as his own damn self went? He needed a plan, to hear the beginnings of one laid out in clear, calm, broad strokes rather than short, sharp, panicked ones.

It wasn’t as if they didn’t have time….