herr_bookman | OOM: Everything will always be all right

That... was not the reaction Autor was expecting. Oh, now that's interesting. Does he see me as a threat to her? The jigsaw pieces of the woman snap into place: mussed hair. Flushed cheeks. Important to Rabastan.

Elea, he thinks, and has to smother a laugh. Of course.

Autor keeps Rabastan in the corner of his eye as he inspects the carpet. "Why are you charging six thousand more silver for this one when I saw a similar one in the front room? What makes this one different?" he asks curiously.

Only the threat of loss, if there is a threat being posed.

Rabastan's life has been marked by a lot of pain, loss and hardship. Good things—if there were any—were few and far between, and when you get them, you should enjoy them and not question whatever good fortune you've been given.

And when even your future—your very normal future, where plans did not go unfulfilled—was taken from you at the end of a series of very bad errors in judgement, you learn to be ready for the day your next loss comes.

He stands to the side, waiting for Gideon to ask him to bring something else out to inspect, as he tries not to indulge his melancholy.

Gideon, though, remains completely oblivious.

"This one is more recently made, lad," he explains.

Autor isn't sure what to make of this change in the wizard. One moment he was nearly shaking with rage, and now he's sucking the light out of the room. The boy sits back, taking in Rabastan's slumped posture and the way he stares at the floor.

"I see," he whispers.

Then, after a bit, he smiles at Gideon. "And how reliable is this one, as opposed to the one in the front room which may as well be its double?"

"Spells, lad. The spells on carpets differ between those that are older, and those that are newer."

There's a bit of rambling elaboration, while Rabastan continues to brood under his proverbial rain cloud.

Unbeknownst to all, Elea seems to have both noticed the change in mood and feel enough concern to want to ask about it later, when they're at his house...

Autor nods and jots down some notes, cross-checking them against the ones he took on the carpets from the front room. Eventually, he leans forward, and picks at the edges of the current offering.

"Seems I've a lot to think about, then," he says softly. "So, I'll make a decision tonight, based on my notes and a second opinion from a colleague of mine. Then I'll return tomorrow to place a down payment for one I'll pay for in full in a few weeks."

He's almost looking forward to the haggling. He offers his hand to Gideon, and after shaking it, offers the moody spell-caster a sharp nod.

Taking his cue, Rabastan moves over to help Gideon put the carpet away, before the older man moves to usher everyone out of the back room, following behind the other three.

Turns out that he was more aware of the mood swing than he let on.

"Why don't you and your lady head on home, eh?" he suggests. "It's almost time for me to close, and if you're not feeling well I'll handle the cleaning tonight."

"Sure. Of course."

"Good good. And I'll see you in a couple of days, then."

Oh, that's interesting, too, the boy thinks, raising a brow at Gideon's handling Rabastan with kid gloves. He's not that fragile.

Lohengrin's flinch skitters across Autor's memory, and he jerks to a stop. No, he's not. Is he?

Drawing a breath through his nose, Autor continues walking towards the front door. He spares a backward glance for Elea, expecting to see her at Rabastan's side.

And she is. As close as you'd expect any normal couple to be. As if Rabastan's mood hadn't changed. No attempts to soothe or placate are made.

As they get closer to him she gives Autor just the faintest of inclinations that he should follow them once they're outside.

While she's not completely sure, she has a hunch that whatever just happened in the shop has something to do with her.

Autor purses his lips at her gesture. It may as well have been signal fires lit across a countryside.

The boy picks up his pace, and manages to get to the door before them. With one last thank you to Gideon, he opens the door for the two lagging behind him.

It's winter in Vane, and Autor's under dressed, as usual. He'd also expected to be back at the dorms by now. He's surprised that he can see his breath. Shivering, he leans against the shop wall and curls his hands around a hand warmer which he retrieves from his pocket.

"Well?" he asks the couple smoothly. He doesn't care much who answers.

Turning to face Rabastan, but not lowering her voice for his ears only, she remains silent for a minute.

"Did you have any plans to inform me of what happened in Gideon's shop, Rabastan?"

Her tone is understanding, yet disapproving.

"Who is this young man? You know him, don't you? Yes, I noticed that you were displeased to see him here. And then suddenly you're all miserable.

"And I'd like to know why."

"His name's Autor. I ... know him from another place, and..." Rabastan's voice trails off.

"And?"

He looks on the verge of tears.

"Rabastan... Don't cry." Pause. "Tell me what's wrong, love."

If it sounds like emphasis was placed on the last word, Autor isn't mistaken.

The boy isn't concerned with the word love, nor the emphasis she places on it. Karkat keeps saying that love is a human word which means a different thing to everyone who says it, and Autor believes him. Besides, he already knows who Elea is; that she wants him to know who she is is the only thing of note.

No, the word he's focused on is cry.

Rabastan's pinched expression and trembling hands slap the boy full in the face. He'd expected rage, or magic, or an attempt at witty banter. But reducing the man to tears within five minutes of an unexpected visit?

So it's true, Autor acknowledges to himself. I break everything I touch.

That the wizard hadn't immediately cast spells on him--the enforced neutrality of Milliways is gone, after all--and even maintained a veneer of civility in the shop isn't lost on Autor. He was looking for a job, and he found one. And here's Elea, too, to whom he believes I am a threat.

He sighs.

"I'm a student, and I have been interested in Rabastan's discipline of magic," he says stiffly. "We've butted heads more than once about methodology."

He crosses to them, but plants his feet once he's a respectful distance away. "Your hands are shaking," he says to the otter-man, and offers the warmer. "And it's cold here."

Edited 2013-03-27 16:53 (UTC)

No. No you don't break everything, but too often you are careless with others' feelings.

Elea brushes the fringe of Rabastan's hair and, amidst gentle admonishments that he's long overdue for a haircut, are assurances that she isn't going anywhere, if that's what's got him so worked up.

It seems to work, and any tears shed are tears of relief.

His good thing isn't going to leave him for another, the way he's been expecting it to.

After a few minutes, it's Elea who takes the warmer and presses it into Rabastan's hand.

"That I'm sure would make for an interesting story. Your interest in Rabastan's magic and your disagreements over it. And I'd be interested in hearing about it if both of you are willing to talk about it."

She pauses to allow Rabastan to give Autor a strangled smile and a hoarse "Thank you" before moving on.

"But would you two like to join me for a meal? I know a quiet place where we won't be bothered much by anyone."

Sure, Rabastan will jump at the offering of food, though if his appetite has been curbed a bit by his emotions Elea will not be too surprised. But what about Autor?

Wait, you thought she'd leave you? Seriously? Autor thinks, aghast. And for me of all people! Are you mad? What would I even do with her--

Once the man starts crying though, the boy has to slam his eyes shut. Ostensibly in the name of granting privacy, but also to hide. There's no reason to witness this sort of thing when Elea can do it.

Which is why he doesn't notice her creeping up to take the warmer until her fingers brush while grabbing it. Autor jumps a bit, and nearly squeaks. He jerks back even more at the horrifying smile Rabastan gives him.

The boy brings up an arm across his chest, shielding himself. "Thank you for the offer, Elea, but I really shouldn't impose..."

Edited 2013-03-28 04:32 (UTC)

Well, not for you, exactly. Just leaving in general. It is unfortunate that you should be the first person to make him more aware of his anxiety about losing a good thing to another person though.

The tears do not last, and already she's using what little healing magics she knows to make Rabastan's face look a little less like he's just had a bad cry.

After she gives Autor an amused smile at his reaction to being touched.

"It's not an imposition. And you don't have to order anything, though I hope you will. The food there is wonderful. But you two do look like you need to talk about something, and food and drink are often the best facilitators for that."

"I'd really rather--" he starts, but his words choke off as she continues fussing over Rabastan.

I don't want this, the boy thinks helplessly. His arms dangle at his sides, and his fingers are numb. The last time I saw him, he slammed me against a wall and made all of those terrible assumptions and forbid me from using the library again--and yet now I've made him cry just by being here, so why do I feel like I should be the one to make amends?

Clearly this all needs looking into. "On two conditions," he says tightly, and sets his jaw. "No magic, and no giga ant eggs."

She wouldn't fuss over him but give him a solid lecture if Elea knew what had happened during the last meeting between Rabastan and Autor.

Just because she loves him doesn't mean Rabastan will never be taken to task over any wrongdoings.

"I can't promise you the staff won't use any, but agreed. Those things are horrible anyways."

Autor glumly shoves his hands in his pockets, crackling another warmer. He gestures for Elea to take the lead, intending to remain silent on their trip to the restaurant.

He's going to avoid looking at Rabastan at all.

Said restaurant, as it happens, is not too far from the shop where Gideon sells his carpets.

There won't be too much walking, although there is yet another bookseller on the route.

Once there, Elea decides to open the door for Rabastan and Autor to enter before following in.

It's a somewhat dimly lit interior, the way you'd imagine upscale restaurants to be, even if this place is not quite as fancy.

Autor doesn't even notice the bookseller. At least not consciously.

Elea choosing to open the door irks him a bit, but she is a strange woman from a strange world--and it would probably be a terrible idea to call her out on anything at the moment.

The kid settles himself in a booth and picks up a menu, pretending to scan it. Eventually, he sets it down. "Well?" he asks the couple again. Oddly enough, he still doesn't care much who answers.

Door opening is something Elea is egalitarian on. If you see someone coming in or going out of the same place as you, you hold the door for them.

I guess it's different in Autor's [magically tampered with] time and place.

Settling into a chair between Autor and Rabastan she examines her own menu.

And points out to Autor which of the items on it are probably not going to be very pleasant if he finds giga ant eggs disgusting.

Autor orders something with truffles--half the menu has them--because he has been curious about them since he and Sunshine spoke. He takes a sip of his water glass and then sets it down quietly.

Very quietly.

"All right," he says to Elea, softly but clearly irritated, "You wanted us to talk?"

Or something. Is this as surreal for me as it is for you, Rabastan?

Edited 2013-03-28 06:28 (UTC)

"Yes, I believe I do."

She runs her finger down the menu, examining the options before making her own choice. Rabastan is given a little more time to make his.

"You two clearly have something between you that's causing you to become angry with each other the moment your eyes meet. Now, I'm not sure I want to know the gorier details, but whatever it is that's causing you to bash heads, it needs to be settled, so that the two of you can begin to get along then."

Hey. She has no knowledge of those two being disagreeable on a regular basis. Only that they are being so now.

"Rabastan? I think you should start?"

He's silent for several minutes while he cogitates.

Then, quietly, "I am sorry, Autor. I ... overreacted that time."

The pronouncement startles Autor so much, he nearly spills his drink.

"Yes," he responds, just as quietly. He stares at his hands. "You did."

So, now what do I say? 'You're absolved; all is well, go live with your girlfriend cum mediator?'

He sighs. I wonder if the person being apologized to has some responsibility to accept amends as well. It's almost like Lohengrin is laughing at him. "Still, I provoked you."

"I don't think you meant to, did you?" he offers. "You wouldn't know that I would feel like I was being attacked when you pranked me, did you?"

Being attacked? Elea has a dim idea about Rabastan's past, at least in terms of his family. What little she's been given suggests that there was a lot of unhappiness for him.

He speaks well of his parents, but try to ask about Rodolphus and he shuts up tight, hoping you'll change the subject.

"No," he says, tracing the rim of his glass. "Not then. But I should have been able to guess, had I thought about it."

Autor lifts his gaze to Rabastan, and rather than his usually cool and patronizing stare, his eyes are heated and piercing. A lance tempered in flames. After this, the tightness in his jaw says, we really do need to talk.

The boy hasn't forgotten about Elea sitting there, watching them. He wishes he could.

Edited 2013-03-28 07:44 (UTC)

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