[hatch log / mission: hyrypia] the winds that will be howling at all hours

[onemind]

CHARACTERS: New Hosts & EVERYONE
WHERE: Station 72; Hyrypia - Naerstone House
WHEN: DAY :002 - :003
SUMMARY: New hosts hatch on the Station, are briefed, then make their way to Hyrypia to join the rest of the hosts… while they attend a very important history lesson.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!

STATION 72
DAY :002

NEW HATCHES
YOU WAKE UP are are suddenly changed. --No. That's not right. You're you and there's no suddenly about it. It's been a while, hasn't it? It feels like waking up from a very deep, extended sleep or surfacing up from the darkness of some wine dark sea. Nothing is different and everything is because right there in your own head there's something both familiar and strange. You know intuitively that you've been unconscious for more than just a blink of the eye.

But here you are, a small miracle of the multiverse: lying in a small, faintly hexagonal chamber with a gentle white light emanating from the surrounding walls. If you were injured during your escape, those injuries have been healed. If you were anxious or frightened or distraught, those feelings have been calmed. There's something peaceful about waking up here - like you belong. That feeling persists even as you find the tube running from the base of your neck to the compartment's rear wall.

But once the tube's disconnected? Things get loud. A wave of emotion fills that peaceful void - fear, uncertainty, relief, a sense of purpose or loneliness or anxiety. A matching dread. An easy comfort. Maybe some of these emotions are yours, but they can't all be. After the initial sensory overload, the mental buzz elongates: stretches out into a murmur like the sound of a party happening behind a nearby closed door.

You can sit up - barely -, and shift out of the pod. There’s a ladder at your feet and a little cubby just before it with anything you brought with you as well as a set of crisp, loose-fitting white clothes; while your injuries are healed, whatever you’re wearing is in the exact state it was before. Maybe it's time for a change? Drop down the ladder to the floor of the Nesting Deck and you’ll find you’re not alone.In fact there are lots of you and none of them are the strangers they should be. Some even seems like people you've known for a very long time.They are as familiar as this place you've never been is.

Welcome to Station 72. Beyond this room it's quiet and still, feeling for all the world like a hollow shell.

--Or it does until a voice separates itself from the white noise in your head:


BRIEFING
THE VOICE IN YOUR HEAD isn't really a voice at all. It's the warm tang of camaraderie, tinged with a flash of impatience like ticking hands on a clock face and a flicker of wonder: a falling star. It says:

( My, you're all very fresh aren't you? Unfortunately, the multiverse waits for no spring chicken. Once you've figured out which way's up, won't you all join us? )
Join 'us' where is the question. And yet, once you're ready to meet the owner of the voice in your mind, your footsteps simply lead you there naturally. Two strangers sit in a small circular briefing room - a tall being covered in short brown fur with a rigid demeanor, and a pale alien with yellow washed frills at her jaw and throat who is smiling cheerfully.

"Hey there, sunshine," says Rhan, her frills humming as she speaks. "Why don't you take a seat so we can get started?"

[ooc note: please see here for the catch-all briefing thread]


THE STATION
WITH A LITTLE UNDER 24 HOURS before it's time to make the trip to Hyrypia, this is as good an opportunity as you're going to get to familiarize yourself with Station 72 before you leave it. There's plenty to see, but a distinct lack of people to make conversation with. It's lonely and quiet and there's a sensation of dust gathering even where there is none. Maybe studying the briefing files on your databank and going over your mission kit is the most proactive distraction, but if not? Well there's plenty of places to get lost...

HYRYPIA - NAERSTONE HOUSE
DAY :003

MEETING
A SINGLE SHIP LANDS in a field the color of burnished gold, returning to the place it had until late the night before occupied. It's carefully inserted beside dozens of other spacecraft bearing more than faint similarities, though each has its own unique aesthetic. When the gangplank drops, the loud engines powering down, it reveals--

New hosts. Seven fresh faces - obscured as they are in layers of intricate fabric - are led down the gangplank by Rhan There to greet them is a number of other hosts - any who answered to the sweet crystalline ring of Collector’s voice in their heads hardly a half hour earlier, speaking with certainty born of truth:

( Rhan and Siva’co are returning. Shall we see what stories they have to tell? )

Despite the solidarity that both combined groups provide, there's a feeling of eyes here. A number of guards along the edge of the shuttle field are watching the reunion like hawks. Better perhaps to return to the apartments where they'll be able to speak in private and teach the new hosts what it is that has been learned since their arrival. --Or explore, for those who prefer not to rest. Naerstone House's grounds are vast and they are almost entirely open to the parties of the pilgrims to explore.

THE PERFORMANCE
AS THE SINGLE RED SUN of Hyrypia dips low on the horizon there is a long, low, mournful sound. A deep bell-- or a horn? Or maybe it's something else entirely, but the call is heard and answered as any nearby servants inform the guests of the house:

“There will be a performance of the First Journey in a quarter turn. All guests are invited to attend.”

There's no mystery as to where the event is occurring. A steady trail of guests and servants lead out past the Veranda into the central garden where a number of pillars have been mounted and a large tiered platform festooned with with numerous draped curtains and abstract representations of trees and mountains - a great stage - now sits. The stage is surrounded by numerous low settees and tables, piles of thick cushions and richly colored rugs around which guests can be found clustered, lounging while sipping thick, syrupy drinks.

Each table is illuminated only by a single glowing orb at its center. Otherwise, as the sun sets it pitches the garden into darkness as even the castle itself has been left unlit. There are no lights in distant windows or on Naerstone House's high walls; these small orbs and the glitter of stars in the black sky might very well be the only points of light in the whole universe.

The allotted time passes and the performance begins. A sun rises over the stage. It's a much larger, more intricate glowing orb and reveals a number of players dressed far more simply than the Hyrypians the hosts have met. They wear complex machine masks upon their faces that shutter into different expressions as their hands flitter across their faces: dramatic caricatures to accompany the droning sound of their singing voices as they unfold the tale at the center of the performance - the one which drives this pilgrimage and for the Nest's very presence in the universe at all. It's the story of lost Rabadoceans coming to a planet near barren intent on brutalizing them - about loss and hardship until finally a single player separates from the rest. The orb of the sun over the stage turns, it's mechanical face shifting and resetting to indicate the passage of time as the very central platform of the stage begins to turn so that this lone player might walk. And walk. And walk through deserts and scrub land, through dark woods and dark caves, against the wind and with it. Through it all, the orb over the stage slowly lowers until at last this lone player can take it in their hands.

It cracks like an egg and brilliance streams from it. Braziers catch fire in the darkness. The garden illuminates itself. Every light in Naerstone House comes to life.

With that, the silence of the crowd breaks. There is applause -- each culture in its own unique fashion -- and then there is a rise of chattering conversation as the guests are served several small dishes and talk about the show they’ve just seen - and whatever possible clues it might give to the pilgrimage they themselves would soon be undertaking.

---

((OOC Notes: This is the hatch log for all new hosts as well as the evening's performance. Feel free to make your own logs and posts additional to this if you care to. You can find a more detailed overview of the host hatching process HERE and additional setting information about the Station HERE. Please be sure to review the MISSION: HYRYPIA ooc information. If you have any questions, please hit up either the mission's question thread, the FAQ or MOD CONTACT pages!))

NAVIGATION • SETTING • FAQ • MOD CONTACT • GLOSSARY

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Comments

[wille]

[ Maybe the Jishin-no-ben isn't him, or anyone, or anything. It's the series of events, it's all of it, this, it's whatever power decided to wake Elena from her sleep and to pull Kaji from his, she presumes, death. She doesn't believe in fate or coincidences or predestination, and the having terrifies her as much as the inevitable losing. Nothing lasts forever. Her apprehension is a low, pervasive thrum that underlies everything else.

But when she closes the book between her palms, she easily pulls off a smile. The link does wonders for one's empathy. ]

So, what do I need to know that you haven't already spewed all over?

[blooded]

❰ there are many things that set misato and damon apart from one another, but what thrums across the link, that fear of both having and losing — that is something they share. it is all too easy to lose that which is indispensable, a fact damon is all too aware of. these past few days without stefan and elena have only reminded him of this fact he knows as surely as he knows his own nature.

it's easy to keep that fear distant, though, when he still feels the warmth of elena's body heat seeped into his clothes. when he can reach his mind out and find hers, restful and quiet but there. stefan's sleep still stings, but with elena, at least, he can survive it. he has to — who else will teach her how to live, now that she's a vampire? ❱

She needs to know that her life isn't over just because she's dead. ❰ maybe damon could stand to explain a little more, but he's sure misato has the gist already, and really, this is all that matters. whatever other details he may leave out, keeping elena connected to the world is more important than misato having an intimate understanding of how vampirism works. ❱ She's from further ahead in our timeline than the last one was, but that means she didn't get any of your training. Help her enjoy what she is now.

❰ or they'll get another stefan, and this time, damon does press impressions into misato's mind — his brother's uncontrollable hunger, his horrified remorse, the terrible cycle that he has forced himself into. he doesn't want that life for elena, and more than that, they don't have the time for it. this mission is too delicate for damon to worry about playing vampire teacher to a ripper. ❱

[wille]

[ To cut through all her layers of niceties and pretense is to find that Misato, in fact, cares far less about Elena than she even does about Asuka -- that is, very little beyond what advantage or disadvantage the girl might pose. The illogical and counterintuitive act of undermining women to reduce them into assets to be gotten and used or, the only other alternative, problems, all while going through life as a woman herself is a delicate acrobatic act. What stray affection she senses from Damon is clearly marked and kept at bay, along with his hunger, his impulsivity. By necessity she has become a precise and merciless inquisitor of her own mind, and here that task is doubly important.

She cares about the girl only insofar as she affects Damon only insofar as he affects herself. All this about helping her embrace the fruits of life is unimportant, unnecessary. ]

Damon, there's no time to train her down here. [ Read: I don't have the time nor do I want to find the time to train her in the middle of such a delicate mission. ] Anyway-- I can see you're floating on cloud nine right now, which is good for you! Congratulations! But we're not here to entertain her even if it feels to you like we are.

[ She draws her knees to herself, and huffs. ]

Is the hunter really her broodmate?

[blooded]

❰ ah — he should have remembered. misato is more selfish even than he is; she wouldn't want to do something for elena just because he wanted her to. it was one thing on the station, when there wasn't something she saw as more worthy of her time. now misato has more important things to do than "entertain" elena.

his expression turns sharper, almost angry. ❱

You think this is about me wanting her kept entertained, while we have a "mission" we have to focus on?

❰ the contempt he feels for that word is clear, even just through his voice — he finds the idea that this motley group of soldiers and civilians and supernatural creatures could be an effective infiltration team utterly ridiculous. the nest is setting them all up for failure, and they hardly seem to care. regardless, he can play ball when he needs to. true, elena is his priority, now and always, but even as that's true, he can focus on other things. especially when that focus helps further his goal of keeping elena safe. ❱

Misato, if she doesn't have human connections, if she doesn't have friends, she will spiral. She won't be able find reasons to hold onto her humanity, and that is not a road we need her going down right now. Vampires without their humanity are a bitch to control.

❰ for this, he supplies images of himself, his brother — carnage and blood and an utter lack of feeling. no guilt, no happiness, no fear, nothing. to be without one's humanity is to be totally empty, and when you are totally empty the loss of your own life, and the lives of everyone around you, mean nothing. ❱

If this mission is so delicate, you'll make time to treat her like a fucking human being. Or this mission ends up fucked and we're all dead. Get it?

❰ a pause, and then — ❱

Yes, the hunter is her broodmate. Another reason to treat her like a human, because that bitch definitely won't.

[wille]

[ How ugly, what this thing purportedly called love turns people into. Men slaughter women who spurn their affections. Brothers and sisters turn into mortal enemies in the throes of a romantic feud. Mothers weep at dinner tables as fathers flee to avoid the repercussions of this socially condoned madness, she has seen it played out one too many times. How unapologetically self-absorbed it turns one, when the desired is made to become like a god, when it turns one into a fanatic with an absolute as a cause, ready to lay down any sacrifice at the lover's feet. Even entire worlds wouldn't be enough to sate this wanting. I'm sorry, I love you, I'm sorry. No wonder it comes with an apology.

She finds it flimsy, this argument he posits on the danger Elena poses, like the time Seviilia made a case for Asuka as a threat. Both of them are powerful young girls, their need for guiding hands greatly exaggerated. She was a girl once too, with demons of her own, but she corralled each and every one of them with her own two hands, so why can't they do the same? Do this for Elena because I love her, she thinks he means, that is to say, do this for me for love's sake.

The sigh she releases is heavy, heavy like a bag of stones. Her voice is low and very quiet. ]

Aren't you reason enough for her to hold on to her humanity, Damon?

[blooded]

❰ if he wasn't so relaxed from elena's presence, the question would send damon into a spiral. it threatens to anyway — the idea of being enough is one he's struggled with all his life, and he's come to accept that he just isn't. for anyone. he knows this, has known it for months — for years, really. ever since he was a boy, and his father's gaze slid over him to settle on stefan. he knows he's deficient.

but having it thrown in his face like this — he wasn't ready for it.

for a long moment, he just stares at misato, equal parts rage and horrible, gut-aching longing bubbling up beneath his facade. ❱

No, ❰ he says eventually, his voice clipped. ❱ No one person would be. She could be the strongest person in the world, she could have my brother with her, and she'd still fail. You don't build a life around one person.

❰ the irony of that statement coming from him is not lost on damon. he built his life around elena, yes, but she won't do the same with him. wouldn't want to. all he can do is help her to build one she can rely on here. ❱

[wille]

[ You don't build a life around one person. It doesn't even bear her telling him how he should give himself this precise advice, when he knows. All the misdirected words tossed at every juncture when the weapons should be pointed directly at one's own heart, but where would the fun be in that? Like this, they are both tossing knives in the air all while hoping the blades will somehow ricochet and find their rightful marks. It's true of her too. Aren't you reason enough for him to hold on to his life? Different words for the exact same thing.

She knows that look he wears by now. Like a dog baring its teeth, having ceased its barking to prepare itself for the bite. It doesn't cow her. ]

"She'd still fail"?

[ How pessimistic a statement. The disapproval is clear in her voice. How self-defeating. She would loathe to hear anyone speak of her that way. ]

If she's like you think she is -- [ Good. The epitome of goodness. Perfection. She knows how he sees Elena. ] -- then she'll make the right choice no matter what.

[blooded]

Not everyone is the great Misato Katsuragi, ❰ he snaps, his voice and the link conveying equally the derision he puts into the name. this idea she has, that if she can do it everyone can, was frustrating when applied to him, but now that she's using it to judge elena as deficient it's maddening. elena's been through more in her life than anyone should have to, and that she struggles underneath the weight of her losses isn't a sign of weakness. it just means she's human, even still. ❱

Not everyone can pull themselves up by their bootsraps and decide fuck everything and everyone else. She's eighteen years old and she's died twice, lost just about every parental figure she's ever had, been chased after and terrorized by a fucking madman who wants to drain her of every drop of blood in her body and he succeeded. She's earned a breakdown. If it were up to me, she'd get it.

❰ if it were up to damon, he'd give elena the time and space to wallow, for however long she needed to. needed, not wanted, because if she falls too deep into that hole she'll never claw her way out, but. there's been no time in her life to slow down and mourn, and if he could, he'd give her that. he'd give her anything. ❱

But it's not up to me. Which is why I'm trying to make the best out of a shitty situation and help her. She can't do this alone. No one can.

[wille]

[ It reminds her of Shinji, with his bag all packed, waiting for the train to come, saying I can't live like you. Can't. How defeatist. See, Misato doesn't think herself any stronger than others, and instead believes them capable of just as much if they only choose to. Take that first step, and keep going. It is as simple, and as difficult, as that.

She glares at him as he speaks, but she has lost the will to listen. She thinks him myopic, mind narrowed to a sliver filled with Elena and nothing else. He would sacrifice the rest of them for her, it's clear, and it revolts her. Such selfishness this love engenders. He thinks her self-centered, which isn't false, but their recent encounters have been of her attempts to reach him while he has never even thought to return the favor. He knows nothing of her, nothing of the world she lost, nothing of Ritsuko, nothing of her father, nothing of Kaji, he knows nothing of the parts of her that matters when he should be of one mind with her. Her anger swells as he continues on, the surface of her mind rising into a wave that bends and crests and breaks as she rises to her feet, slamming both hands on the table with a resounding noise that echoes against the walls. ]

Enough. [ So Kaji is right, as he is always, better a purposeful kind of love, a long hard road of learning how to cross the oceans between people, and enough of this false, imposed intimacy. She shuts the door between them most deliberately, an airlock, sucking the pressure out of the room to leave behind a palpable absence where her mind previously rested against his. It is imperfect, the connection can't be severed, but she's nothing if not vehement and absolute in everything she does. ]

I can talk to Rani, she can be reasoned with. [ The bitch, as he said, has more sense than himself. ] I'll leave you to deal with Elena.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Rani and I have a truce. She won't come after you two again.

[ He'll tell Damon more about it later, if he wants - probably whether or not he wants - but right now Sam's a little preoccupied with the simmering mess he just walked in on.

Frustration bleeds off of both of them - a desire to be understood, to understand, irritation that the other one isn't even trying - and he's pretty sure he doesn't have to have heard more than the last bit of the conversation to get an idea of it.

He knows both of them, after all, because he's chosen to. He's chosen them. ]

Maybe Misato's right, maybe Elena could get through this on her own. But she shouldn't have to. [ None of them should have to, but Sam's pretty sure they both know his opinion on accepting the support of others by now. ] Is that what this is about?

[blooded]

❰ misato closes off the connection between them and damon almost laughs, derisive and ugly. so she doesn't get her way, he doesn't accede to her need to pretend that control is something that can be wrested from the grip of the universe, and she decides he's not worth it. elena isn't worth it. the latter angers him far more than the former; maybe he's not worth anyone's time but elena is.

fine. she's not the only person he can turn to here. he'll just have to make more connections, look for other people in the nest who will be sympathetic.

sam appears, and damon — he tenses and relaxes at once, and it's a weird thing to feel, the relief of seeing someone who understands him mixed with the tension of seeing someone he's wronged. it's not an unfamiliar feeling, really, but. still weird. ❱

What it's about is I want her to have friends. She's not like me, she can't deal with being reviled. If she doesn't have friends, she'll crumble.

❰ damon turns to sam, shutting misato out of the conversation. she's cut herself off from him, would rather deal with someone who wants to kill a girl who's done literally nothing than her own broodmate. as far as damon's concerned, she's chosen her side, and he has nothing else to say to her.

and for all the things damon can say about himself that aren't strictly true, that, at least, holds up — he has spent nearly two centuries being hated and feared, and he has inured himself to its effects. if he had to, he could go back to being friendless and alone tomorrow and be fine — lonely, missing what he had, but fine. but elena has been loved her whole life, and invests so much of herself in other people that being alone would wreck her. she doesn't know how to be, and maybe cultivating an ability to survive on her own would make her stronger, but why bother when she doesn't need to? when she gets just as much strength from relying on the people who care about her? ❱

[wille]

[ All this about what Elena can't do, when the girl isn't even here to defend herself. She'd still fail, she can't deal, she'll crumble without all these men to hold her hands. The words rile her up for reasons that have little to do with the girl. ]

Sam. Never talk about me the way he talks about Elena, like some plant that needs watering.

[ The derision is clear in her voice, but she drops off this petty ride of talking to each other through Sam soon enough, turning to Damon and speaking directly at him regardless. She raises a finger to point at him, breaking every rule of politeness, and dashing through every guideline for civil conversation as she presses on. ]

This isn't even about her. It's about you and your fixation on winning her over now that your brother's gone. You want this to be a place where she can stay because finally you have your chance. Is that what love is? An excuse to trap someone into staying with you? It's pathetic!

[ And this isn't even about Damon, certainly not about Elena. It's about her. It's about Kaji's words. It's about her mother weeping night after night while tossing away the dinner she cooked for a husband who never came home. It's about the stories her mother tells her of how kind her father was, how gentle, how loving, how much she needed him. It's about the divorce papers, it's about laughing in the face of her father's devastation. It's about failing to understand until it's all too late. Is it too late? ]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ He would never, calling her daffodil aside. Misato allows herself to be vulnerable with him, on a rare occasion, and Sam would never do anything that'd make her think that he sees that as weakness. As far as he's concerned, it just makes her stronger.

But he also knows that her perception of what Damon's doing, why he's here - it's pretty damn far from what's really going on. He just wants Elena to be happy, and based on what Sam's seen of both of them - physically and in their minds - he knows her better than anyone.

Maybe Misato could see that, if she wasn't so caught up in Kaji showing up here and what it means for her - but then, maybe Damon could see what kind of state she was in, if he wasn't so caught up in Elena showing up. ]

Is this working? Is this helping Elena, helping the mission, being so sure you know what the other person really means that you're not listening to what they're saying, or noticing where they're coming from? [ He's got the feeling that both of them think the other is doing that to them - without realizing that there's a whole lot of it going around on both sides. ] It seems like you both want the same thing here.

[blooded]

❰ it's not the most mature thing, to ignore a conversation partner who's not playing ball the way you want them to, but damon never professed to be particularly mature anyway. he was fully prepared to shut misato out from the rest of the conversation and only deal with sam — at least he is willing to see through other peoples' eyes, even if he and damon differ in some pretty important ways — but what misato says... it's so laughably wrong he doesn't even know where to begin. he couldn't, if he had to say it all out loud.

but then again... he doesn't have to. ❱

That's what you think this is, me trapping Elena? Forcing her to love me?

❰ if damon had to explain his relationship with elena, with his brother, with his feelings about both of them, out loud, he never could. he wouldn't even know where to begin, what words to use, how to force them out of his mouth and into the air where someone else could hear them. vulnerability on that scale — he can't do it.

but with the symbiote, he doesn't have to. he can't force the connection between himself and misato to widen, but he opens up his end of it, leaving himself entirely bare for her to pick over. she doesn't have to look, but if she actually cares about understanding him — and at this point, who knows if she even does, with how certain she is she understands enough — she will.

she'll see that elena is the strongest person he's ever met, and his talking about how she'll fail if she has to stand alone isn't about not believing in her, he just knows her. he knows who elena is, inside and out, more than she knows herself, it feels like. she needs people, in a way that seems foreign and strange but which is no less true for that fact. elena measures herself by the people around her, and one day she will be able to stand on her own but now, with the tethers she used to support her unceremoniously clipped, she's unsteady. if she doesn't tie herself to new supports, she'll fall.

she'll see his love for elena, usually hidden away and covered over, but now left in the open where misato can pick it over. it's as selfless a feeling as damon is capable of, tinged with hopelessness, but strong. the backbone of everything else in his head, this feeling reaches everywhere, like water flooding into a basement. it drowns out some things, nourishes others, but it's ever-present and consuming, even as it is also something he knows he'll never be able to act on. the idea that he could win her is stupid, rejected out of hand — it's always going to be stefan echoes in his head, what he turns to any time she looks at him with her heart in her eyes. he knows his place — his love for her isn't about him, it's about her. he would no more want to trap her with him than he'd wanted her to be a vampire. if it was what she wanted —

beneath all of it, everything elena and stefan and damon's ideas about what he deserves, there is hunger. ever-present, even when pushed to the back of his mind. damon hasn't fed in days, and existing has begun to hurt, his veins pumping what little blood remains inside him throughout his body and rubbing together painfully as they do. misato and sam are heartbeats and the scent of blood, that damon only knows how to resist because he has learned how, and his hold of his own bloodlust is vice-tight, but enough to overcome anyone who doesn't know how to handle needing something this much.

the connection closes again, and damon glares at misato for a moment before turning back to sam. ❱

You need to teach her how to shield. Keeping the hunter out of her head is going to be the most important thing in the long run.

[wille]

[ In that precipitous way, all the little pieces fall into place the moment she adjusts her lens, each fragment fitting into this conclusion that she is slowly and surely coming to: she has been yelling at walls this entire time, thinking that to hear her own words echoed meant they were understood.

When Damon opens his mind, she turns to him with an impassive gaze, a judge beholding the piece of evidence laid out on the table before her. To see a person through another's eyes isn't to believe the narrator without question, it is to interrogate the point of view and evaluate the explanations Damon gives for the things he does, and she is merciless in every sense of the word. What she sees is a rose-tinted illusion, a myth in the making, the need to lie and be lied to, the need to maintain the belief that all the suffering will be worth it in service of this homemade deity called Elena.

Misato is realizing that this negotiation of identities (who is who, who is she to them, who are they to her) was something she has been refused a hand in. She is to be their accomplice in this project of saving a girl she has no interest in, that she would align her priorities as such that the girl's continued viability would be in line with the mission's success because Damon and Sam expect her to. Because to do so would mean she is good in their eyes and therefore on their side, with this so-called friendship being touted as the very thing at stake. Very well. ]

Don't tell me what I should want.

[ Even with her mind folded close, the heat of her fury is palpable, a sleek metal surface that burn to the touch. She and she alone will say who she is and what she will do, and she will maintain her grip on self-determination as furiously as she holds on to life in all the many forms that takes. She would let no man define her, least of all the kind to coddle a young girl. ]

I'll leave you two to it.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ It's like watching them throw gasoline on a fire, both thinking that it's water. And maybe it'd be what'd put out their own flames, but it's only fuel for the other, and Sam can see the bridge between them crumbling.

Damon makes himself more vulnerable than Sam's ever seen him with someone else before, and Sam has to fight the urge to wrap his own shields around Damon. He itches to curl the wings of his mind around the three of them, block them off from the rest of the Nest and protect them until they can figure this out.

But he can feel the burn of Misato's fury, and he doesn't have to see inside her mind to figure out what she thinks of Damon opening himself up to her. They're speaking different languages, trying to go about the same thing, only he's pretty sure Misato's already closed herself out of this attempt.

And then she lumps Sam in there. His brows furrow, taken aback - she's never misunderstood what he meant that badly, never thrown resentment and anger at him that sparked from something he didn't say. From things he did say, sure, but she's never decided for him what he was saying and stopped listening.

Of course he'll teach Elena how to shield, that's not really a question when he's already offered his help to her - but his focus shifts from Misato and Damon fighting to what's going on with Misato. ]

It seems like you both want to be understood, that's what I meant. Don't put shit on me that's not there, have I ever tried to tell you what you should want?

[ Has he ever done anything but try to understand her perspective, offer his own, reach a middle ground where they could and move on where they couldn't? She can't deny that - or, well. She can. But she'd be lying, either to herself or to him, and that'd tell him something about where her head's at. ]