exsiliumlogs | something has to make sense soon [OPEN]

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something has to make sense soon [OPEN]

Date & Time: 3/12, most of the afternoon and into the evening
Location: Throughout the Hold
Characters: Martin and you!!
Summary: Hermit mode disengaged
Warnings: 800 apologies for no reason

Hiding was no good. It was weak, cowardly, and only wasted time. He had no time to waste, and yet there he was, curled up in a strange bed in a strange room in a strange world where the only thing that really made sense was nothing making sense. Dead people and dragons and magic and...and so many things were just so wrong, wrong, wrong. All the advice and training in the Darkov world wasn't enough to prepare Martin for how to handle.

How long has it even been...? There were no calendars to consult. He'd lost track of time out in the wilderness, for sure. Everything was off-kilter; he was even sleeping through the night, which was absurd. What kind of monster hunter slept through the key hours? Useless, useless.

At least he'd ventured outside earlier? Or...or maybe that was already a while ago. He forgot. But the chip nonsense was taken care of, certainly. Unless he imagined it. Maybe it was pretend? I don't know.

Apparently, though, the danger had passed. The immediate danger, anyhow. People were no longer advised to stay hidden, in any case; Martin ought to have gotten out, started looking again...but he didn't. He stayed where he was, in bed, staring at a blank wall thoughtlessly until he became too hungry to even sleep. That was a Monday, but he didn't know. All he knew is he'd been doing nothing but waste time and helped nobody. He felt awful.

After rummaging through what food was in the room for three and munching a little, he left the apartment, blinking blearily into daylight he was just not used to. Olvoski's sun was smaller, distant and cold by comparison, where this world's was warmer, but no more unkind. It made him wish it was dark already, even if the night was for terrible things. I'm terrible, too.

The first time he had made rounds about the Hold had been a near-blind panic; he remembered little and less. This time, he walked and looked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. The buildings were so odd, and there were traces of smells he just couldn't identify if his life depended on it. Maybe it did? He still didn't know why he was here. It was a big mistake, and he had to leave...The thought quickened his steps and widened his eyes, searching for something that would give him the clear way out. Anything. From the vast training area to the markets, there had to be something...

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Bariyan had to listen very carefully in order to catch the entirety of Martin's answer. It wasn't a full answer, not by a long shot, but Bariyan had not expected one. Nor did he think that he was entitled to one.

But it was enough to extrapolate upon. It wasn't just a matter of homesickness. Bariyan continued to stare, not moving an inch.

"And it's important." Half-question, half-statement.

Martin made a vague sound, chewing on the inside of his lip. Only a couple of seconds of that, though, and then he shot a quick glance up.

"It's...it's a good idea to stick around family, too," he added, kicking himself internally. He ought to have just said that in the first place. "So..."

Important, very likely. Secret? Definitely. Time to let it go and stop bothering the poor kid about his past-- if only he weren't already leery of Martin's family.

"Do you talk to anyone who's not family?" Bariyan was no longer even sure here if Martin meant family in a literal sense, or if it was his entire... group as a whole. He couldn't think of a better word than 'group'. At least, not one that wasn't 'cult'.

"Uh--"

Martin colored a little. Embarrassed, perhaps? He wasn't really sure how to feel, other than put on-the-spot. He didn't like that, regardless.

His mouth tugged an awkward, uneasy smile. "I'm...I'm talking to you," he pointed out.

Bariyan grinned back at him. He wasn't sure if Martin was being purposely evasive, or simply nervous like usual, but he was amused either way.

"Nice try. I meant back home."

He waited for a clearer answer, but he suspected that he knew already. That he could make an accurate guess as to the extent of Martin's social interactions. Bariyan tried to convince himself to give the family the benefit of the doubt and found it a losing battle. He wasn't sure that he could reconcile with anyone telling a child that he was a tool.

No good, huh... Martin's shoulders sagged a little with his breath. No good. He felt so...embarrassed talking about himself, his life. Ashamed? Though he oughtn't be. There was nothing bad about his family. Not really.

No more than people, he figured.

"Uh, well...No," he admitted, sheepish. "I don't really have any business with anybody else."

"Right." More questions came to mind immediately. Why? Who told you that? What reasons did they give you? But Bariyan was well-aware that he was going fast down the path of interrogation. He forced himself to drop it. It didn't matter, Martin's stuck here for now. And Bariyan... had all but promised to help Martin find his way back.

He finally stopped staring at Martin to look elsewhere, but said nothing else for the moment. Probably Martin needed a break from Bariyan's constant questioning, anyway.

He'd braced himself for more questions, breath held. When nothing came, he exhaled, letting himself sag against the car a little. For a little bit, the quiet was a relief. But only for a little bit. Silence was scary in a place like that, where he really didn't know his place, what he ought to do or not do...

"Bariyan-?"

Bariyan shared none of Martin's reservations. He'd stopped paying attention to the passage of time, to the silence, having fallen back into his own thoughts. He was wondering about himself and his own purposes. What he was doing here. He'd promised to help Martin leave, and... then what? Where did he go?

Bariyan's eyes had gone blank but his look had grown dark, and he was frowning again. No, that sort of introspection was for the dark. In the daylight, he worried about others.

Martin's voice jolted him out of his thoughts. He looked back and raised his eyebrows, figuring that Martin had a question. "Yeah?"

He already regretted breaking the silence. Bariyan had looked like he was pretty lost in thought, probably something important, or...or more important than anything Martin had to say.

He thought against his question, pressing his mouth into a thin line. The silence almost overtook once again, but he found something to fill it in, replace it with what he'd wanted to say.

"Um. I...I'm sorry. For when I...attacked you. That time." He fidgeted. "I forget if I apologized already."

Bariyan let that sink in. He can't recall much in detail about their trip up north, though he vaguely recalls that just prior to that there'd been an apology of sorts sent over the network -- but Bariyan had absorbed about half a line before he'd shut the lid of his netbook down and gone out the window. The words hadn't been important then. Now?

"I...." was about all that Bariyan could manage, before he froze up. He what? He wouldn't have been hurt. He wouldn't have -- didn't -- hold it against Martin. And he might have deserved it.

"It's what you were taught to do though, right?" Bariyan asked instead, quietly. Monsters. Of course you killed monsters, in any world, in any time. That wasn't wrong.

"Yes, but..."

Martin grimaced. But I didn't know you weren't bad... He made an unhappy sound in his sigh, slumping against the hood of the car.

"But everything's all different here. I wasn't...I didn't pay attention. I should've..." Shouldn't have been so scared.

Bariyan moved over. He braced his hands against the hood of the car, and swung himself up to sit on it. His movements were light, careful, almost noiseless. And by then he'd had time to think a proper answer over.

"Yes. Maybe you shouldn't have panicked," Bariyan said. He wanted to say otherwise, wanted to tell Martin that he'd done all right -- but fact was, while he certainly wasn't an adult, Martin was old enough to expect more rational behavior out of him. More than that, he was dangerous enough.

"Still. You did what you were taught to do," he continued. "And that would've been right, in your world. So I don't hold that against you. Especially now that you've learned better."

It was the timidity, he decided. Gods, the boy was timid. It made it hard for Bariyan to criticize him of anything. That was why he hadn't left it at 'you were wrong to panic'. Which is where he would have left it with -- with his own son, Bariyan thought, frowning. He hadn't thought about that for such a long time. But yes, it had taken hellfire to get Komini to apologize for anything that he did.

The clenching in his stomach became less out of guilt and more out of nausea with Bariyan sitting close by once again. Martin forced another heavy breath in and out to try and counteract it and the dreadful tingling on the back of his neck. He ought to have felt better because of the reassurance...

"Yes, sir." Everything is all...jumbled up and strange, he thought, and hardly for the first time. It was hard to stay doggedly focused with so much new or odd thrown at him left and right, but that was really all he had going for him, he thought, as far as good qualities went.

Moving and moving until, hopefully, some good came from it. Making up for days and days of cowardly uselessness – now there were days here he had to make up for! It seemed like trying to swim through molasses.

His toes curled inside his shoes against the anxious flutter in his gut.

Bariyan was beginning to suspect that 'yes, sir' was the answer Martin gave when he was just too tired to fight anymore. No, not fight. Martin hardly fought back at all. Just too tired to even continue the conversation. That confused Bariyan. He'd seen the sort of damage that Martin could do in a fight and all the energy that drove him, nervous as it was, but it seemed that fire did not translate over into his personality.

He wanted to say something about it, to tell Martin that he didn't have to let everything roll him over. But Bariyan could hardly chew him out for agreeing with him.

"All right," Bariyan said, still left with the uneasy feeling that there was something more that he ought to say. Or some thought that Martin was holding on to.

He forced a smile, and held out a hand. "Well. In any case, you're forgiven."

Martin's stare went from the hand to Bariyan's face and back again, blinking before reacting much more. His mouth quirked on one side, hardly ever sporting an all-out smile anymore, and made a small, muffled sound before reaching for the hand.

The palm of his hand burned right away, irritated by corrupted substances so close, but Martin just grit his teeth and bowed his head, doing his best to not look bothered at all.

"Th-thank you," he sputtered, only holding on for as long as he thought was polite (not long at all), before sending his hand back to the hood of the car, leaning weight on it as if to press the feeling right out.

Bariyan took note of the slightly strained reaction, but his own numbness made him indifferent to any tenseness on Martin's part. He put the rest down to Martin's nature.

"Anyway. You want to try again--" Bariyan tapped the car underneath him "--or are you good for the day?"

"I, uh--" Martin shot a glance over at the windshield and the wheel inside. No, he really didn't want to climb back in there, even if it was good for him. He gave Bariyan a sheepish look. "I'll wait. And...memorize what you told me. And then I'll do better some other time."

"Fair enough. I'll hold on to the keys for now, then." Bariyan checked his pockets instinctively, like he was afraid that he might have lost them in between getting out of the car and now.

"By the way, what's your room number?" He wanted to know, in case anything came up, in case he needed to find Martin later. He knew that he could probably get in contact just over the network but Bariyan still didn't like the thing much. Couldn't get used to it.

It was probably for the best. Martin wasn't even thinking about how he'd promised some Eridan-person to take him to the ocean and how handy a car would be...it'd be a nightmare situation, for certain.

He looked down blankly for a minute before stuffing his hand in a pocket and pulling out the apartment key. Fortunately, the number was always there.

"Three-oh-two," he said, staring at the key for a few seconds after before putting it away.

"Got it. I'm 202, should just be a floor down." Not that Bariyan was there often, but he shrugged. "Feel free to drop by if you want the keys. Or if you need anything else."

But they were done here for today, then. All considered, it hadn't been bad at all. Martin hadn't crashed the car, at least.

Bariyan slid himself back onto the ground and brushed himself off. "You want to head back?"

"Uh--"

Back? To the apartment? Where Alistair and Anora were? Not that they were terrible people, but...

"I'll stay here," Martin said, mouth twitching. "For a little bit, I mean. There's still a lot of this place I should probably see."

"You're going to explore?" Right away, Bariyan's protective instincts kick in. Alone? Are you sure? What if you get lost? When will you be back? But no, it's not his place to be quite that worried. Besides, Martin's spent enough time here alone already. He can handle himself.

He limits himself to one question, which is still perhaps somewhat more serious than warranted. "Are you armed."

It was a kind of funny question. Well, Martin thought it was. A little. A nasally, breath-of-a-laugh, ceased by tightly pressing his lips and clearing his throat followed, shrugging his shoulders up.

"Yeah," he said, lifting and tilting his hand, palm out. "I always am."

"Oh. Yes, of course." Bariyan had forgotten, but he remained suspicious and it showed in his continued frown. Martin's abilities seemed to take a great toll on him. Unsustainable.

"Will that be enough?"

something has to make sense soon [OPEN]

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