herr_bookman: (sleepy)
herr_bookman ([personal profile] herr_bookman) wrote2014-11-24 04:11 pm

OOM: A Ritual Repeated

After Autor's dramatic reentry into the bar, he hid from everyone in his room, wrapped up in a cocoon of denial. Pride goes before a fall, and Autor had indeed fallen, though he refused to acknowledge it.

He thinks in if only statements. If only the oak tree had talked to him. If only he were chosen, and not Fakir. If only he'd been born with Drosselmeyer's blood. If only he'd never been born.

It's not that he wanted to die, necessarily, just that he didn't want to be there right now. He was overwhelmed, and clearly couldn't handle everything coming his way at the moment. Autor tried not to dwell on his desire to run away, tried to focus on what he could do. What he should do.

He also thinks in what ifs. What if the Bookmen are wrong? he thinks desperately, pacing. Fakir can't be the only Spinner. I worked too hard for this. What if the whole thing's just a nightmare? He snorts at the ridiculous notion, glaring at the floor. But what if... I did the rituals wrong? And I could still prove myself?

Well, he could test that. Autor drinks a glass of water, and washes his face. He digs his toes into the wood, facing the door, and prepares to clear his mind.

Three days later, he's still standing there.
sunbaked_baker: (blazing unsure)

[personal profile] sunbaked_baker 2015-01-26 05:13 am (UTC)(link)
Rae had been expecting to see Autor sometime after he returned to the bar - preferably when he'd had some time to calm down and rest - but she hadn't seen him, not in the bar, not in the library, not outside... Sunshine knew Autor could take care of himself in most situations, but she was beginning to get worried, all the same. He had been so very upset when he had come in; he might need someone to talk to, but may not want to seek anyone out.

There is one last place Rae hadn't checked, however. So there is a quiet knock at Autor's door in the evening of the third day, Sunshine rapping her knuckles against the wood while her other hand and hip balance the tray carrying a pot of citrus-lavender-sage herbal tea and two cups.
sunbaked_baker: (running)

[personal profile] sunbaked_baker 2015-01-26 05:27 am (UTC)(link)
"Autor?" Rae turns the doorknob and eases the door open, turning to bring her other hand down to the tray and bumping the door lightly with her elbow to help it swing open easily, allowing her to step through."I hadn't seen you around and thought you might like - Autor!"

Her words are interrupted as she sees his exhausted state. The tray of tea things is set hurriedly aside as she rushes to him in sudden concern, her cool hand finding his forehead to check for fever. "What happened to you? Are you all right?"
sunbaked_baker: (blazing unsure)

[personal profile] sunbaked_baker 2015-01-26 05:43 am (UTC)(link)
Rae clasps the hand that catches her arm, her hand over his. "You did this to yourself?" she echoes, aghast. "On purpose?"

She takes back the thought about Autor being able to take care of himself in most circumstances.

"C'mon," Rae adds, quietly, giving his hand a squeeze. "You need some water, and some proper sleep. You're practically asleep on your feet already."
sunbaked_baker: (blazing unsure)

[personal profile] sunbaked_baker 2015-01-26 06:02 am (UTC)(link)
She lets him tug himself away from her, not holding on but still poised in case he looks about to fall over. When she hears what this is about some of her confusion clears, only to be replaced with a different kind of concern.

"That's what this is for?" Rae says, blinking in mild surprise. She had thought he had already given up on those aspirations - bending reality to his whim with his writing, with all the dangers that brings - but they are clearly still important to him. "Are you sure you can't? You're... still in the middle of the ritual, right? You could still try, if you wanted..."

She suggests it to be supportive of her upset friend, but her tone betrays her lack of enthusiasm for the idea.
sunbaked_baker: (blazing unsure)

[personal profile] sunbaked_baker 2015-01-26 06:16 am (UTC)(link)
The words sting, but Rae doesn't let that hinder her. She steps towards him, hands spread. "I want you to finish this ritual so you'll rest. You're exhausted and upset, and practically dead on your feet."

But because she is honest, she adds, quietly, "I've never made a secret of my thoughts on Spinning. I had... thought you had already grown past those hopes of... ruling your own little story-world."
sunbaked_baker: (blood on her hands)

[personal profile] sunbaked_baker 2015-01-26 06:37 am (UTC)(link)
"You know I wouldn't give up on changing the world for the better, Autor," Rae reminds him, gently. She has the scars to prove it. "But you also know I wouldn't try and play puppetmaster to do it."

"When the war comes, you won't be abandoned by your friends here. You know it," she promises him. "We'll get you through it."
sunbaked_baker: (blazing unsure)

[personal profile] sunbaked_baker 2015-01-26 06:56 am (UTC)(link)
Rae knows from experience that one doesn't always die in situations where one faces certain death. But Autor doesn't need to hear that. What's more, he doesn't want to hear it.

"That isn't true, Autor!" she says, though it shows on her face how his words sting. "I wanted you to grow beyond the box you had put yourself in, pinning all your hopes on this one thing when you're capable of so much more. You've already grown so much, since we first met."
sunbaked_baker: (Cold ashes)

[personal profile] sunbaked_baker 2015-02-01 09:51 pm (UTC)(link)
"No one ever truly knows what they're meant to be," the baker and vampire-slayer says, trying and failing not to let the hurt show on her face at being dismissed as a useless distraction. Croissants and baked goods and runs around the lake may not be immediately useful, but she cherished those memories nonetheless. "If, in fact, anyone is ever 'meant' to be anything but what they become."

The word implies a set plan already being in place, something she doesn't really believe in. She doesn't believe in fate, just... what had Yolande said? Loopholes, and taking advantage of them or not. She doesn't ask, 'If Spinning is what you were meant to do, who is Spinning the Spinners?'

"We rarely end up what we think we'll be, Autor. And yes, it hurts," her voice cracks a little. It has been years, and she still often wishes she were just a baker. "You may have thought your... experiences and friendships here were just distractions, but they weren't. And they aren't. We'll be here for you."
sunbaked_baker: (Cold ashes)

[personal profile] sunbaked_baker 2015-02-02 04:53 am (UTC)(link)
Rae comes in close, his turmoil familiar and painfully raw. Her hand finds his, and gives it a squeeze. "Do you think at your age I didn't do the same, Autor? When I was hurting, and just wanting so much to be wanted, or to escape all the shit going on around me? You came in from having your feelings taken, manipulated, and crushed - there's no wrong in wanting to feel good after that."

Some of the things Jay had said when they last spoke make more sense, now. Wanting to help, but feeling like he made it worse.

"Autor, there aren't any Good People or Bad People in the world. There are just people, and they choose to do good or bad things. Your actions should always be your own. Just as everyone else's actions should always be their own. Spinning... takes that away. After growing up surrounded by it, and being used yourself as you were the other day when you came in... I don't understand why you would seek to do the same to others."
sunbaked_baker: (sun-self)

[personal profile] sunbaked_baker 2015-02-02 05:34 am (UTC)(link)
Rae leans forward to wrap him in a hug, letting him cry as she strokes his back gently. With her head resting on his shoulder, she can feel every hitch in his breathing, every sob.

"Your heart is in the right place, my friend, however much you think yourself a bad person. You want to help people, to make the world a better place to live in. You can still do that. Just not the way you had planned."
sunbaked_baker: (in her element)

[personal profile] sunbaked_baker 2015-02-02 06:04 am (UTC)(link)
"If Spinning isn't... if it's not what you were meant to do," she says, because even if fate is not what she believes for her world, it is what Autor seems to believe for his, "then it is through no failure of yours that you can't Spin. Not your fault, not your failure."

"You are no failure, Autor," Rae reiterates, holding him steady. "If your father thinks that, he's a shortsighted fool."

She will go home with him and protect him, if need be.
sunbaked_baker: (blazing unsure)

[personal profile] sunbaked_baker 2015-02-04 03:24 am (UTC)(link)
Rae touches his arm, giving it a squeeze. "You haven't failed, and neither did your father. If anything, your world failed you, not the other way around. Don't beat yourself up for something that isn't your fault. Don't."

No punching walls because of a story someone else wrote.

"You've been awake without food or water for, what, three days and nights? If you... if you must, finish the ritual, Autor, but there's no way you're starting over without recuperating first."
sunbaked_baker: (blazing unsure)

[personal profile] sunbaked_baker 2015-02-04 04:43 am (UTC)(link)
"In what way will you be fine? You're not fine now," Rae points out, her voice full of worry and frustration. It's all she can do to resist the urge to check for fever. "You won't last another three days. If the ritual doesn't work when you start out rested, what chance is there that it'll work better when your start out already dead on your feet?"

"You need something to drink, at least - there's tea, if you want," she offers, seeing his cracked and parched lips, "and you need a good long sleep. Things will look better in the morning, I promise."

"Please, Autor," she pleads, quietly.
Edited 2015-02-04 04:43 (UTC)
sunbaked_baker: (Cold ashes)

[personal profile] sunbaked_baker 2015-02-04 05:42 am (UTC)(link)
It is too much to bear. Sunshine steps forward to catch the swaying boy in a hug, steadying him as tears burn in her eyes.

"You're not doing it wrong. You're doing it the only way you know how," she murmurs miserably, voice unsteady, wishing she could somehow make it all hurt less. "I know you - you are so careful, so meticulous. You map out every step. You aren't doing it wrong. If it hasn't worked yet... the ritual... isn't going to work."


It would be best if Rae never met Drosselmeyer, the author so carefree with dolling out misery and pain to those who have to live his stories and be discarded by them. Drinking in the characters' hurt like a vampire drinking in so much tears and blood. Sunshine hugs Autor close, wanting so much to shield him from the pain of this, but knowing she cannot carry him through it.
sunbaked_baker: (blood on her hands)

[personal profile] sunbaked_baker 2015-02-05 06:32 am (UTC)(link)
Sunshine clutches Autor, holding him fast in her arms. Her own tears leak quietly from her eyes as she hears his painful gasps and keens, and feels the grief shaking him with each ragged breath. Her own misery makes her voice sound desperate and weak as she tries to soothe him, trying to alleviate what hurt she can, and to see him through this.

She has never really believed in any deity, no overseeing power that directs the lives of those living in the world the deity presumably created. Few people in her world do - those that don't believe generally say that if they did, they would probably want to kick the deity in the shins for doing such a shit job at everything. But even with no one listening, Sunshine wishes as fiercely as she can on her friend's behalf. For peace, and rest, and healing. For understanding and support.


His words, when they come, are a sudden strike to her very heart. Her eyes flash open, and she nearly drops him in sudden shock. A deep flood of cold horror wells up in her like blood, chilling her bones and numbing her movement. Gasping, she is barely able to catch Autor's unconscious, collapsing form, her knees giving way, awkwardly sinking down to the floor with him to keep him from falling.

('Do you really think...')

Rae can't think clearly. It's all static. For a long moment, it is all she can do to sit crumpled on the floor, her breathing ragged, holding Autor half in her lap and staring at his battered, exhausted face. Then, as her tears begin falling in earnest, Autor's words begin encroaching again upon her scattered thoughts like an infection, the original strike having already found its mark. Had she? Had she really? Has all her good-will and friendship done nothing but make things worse for him? Would he be a Spinner, if she hadn't... muddled his focus? Surely not. She couldn't have.

('...being more trusting and vulnerable...')

Lifting her head and trying to get the wracking sobs under control, Rae moves her shaking hand to gently straighten Autor's glasses and wipe away the drying tears that mark his face. He looks so young without his glasses. She forgets, sometimes, just how young he is. He always acts so confident. He had when they first met. Had she ruined that? ('You've made me... weak.') Though she tries to wipe away the dark blotches on his blue blazer, her tears still fall thickly, her own quiet sobs shaking them both together in the floor of the darkened room.

('...will properly prepare him for the world he has to live in?')

Autor had hoped to escape the war through his Spinning. Had pinned everything on that. She hadn't known. And now he can't. Can't escape. He may die. The thought that she... that her friendship, all those memories she cherishes... may have weakened him to the point where he couldn't save himself... that he may die because of her - 'distractions,' he had said, with her weak promises that his friends would see him safely through war's devastation - it only makes the sobs come harder, helpless misery wetting her cheeks and Autor's dark hair as she rests her head against his.
Edited 2015-02-05 06:34 (UTC)
sunbaked_baker: (Cold ashes)

[personal profile] sunbaked_baker 2015-02-05 06:57 am (UTC)(link)
Sunshine cries herself out, until her sobs subside into quiet, exhausted misery. In the near-silent room, she listens to Autor's gentle breathing as the last of her tears stick to her wet eyelashes and blur her vision.

('I'm so sorry.')

Very slowly and gently, Rae shifts Autor so she can stand, lifting him in her arms. The boy doesn't eat enough even when he hasn't starved himself for three days; even in her emotionally exhausted state, he is easy to carry over to the bed.

('I'm sorry. I didn't know.')

Almost mechanically, she takes off his shoes and loosens his collar, then covers him with a blanket so he won't get cold as he sleeps. The tea tray lies forgotten and cold by the bedside. Rae settles in the chair, though she isn't sure why she doesn't just leave. Some part of her says she should keep watch, but another, nastier part says, 'Against what? Haven't I already done enough damage? Perhaps someone should keep watch against me.' She stays, anyway. Even if some of this damage is her fault, she will not abandon him now.

('Please forgive me.')

For a long time, the only sound in the room is the quiet, sleep-steady breathing from the boy in the bed. If Rae sleeps, she doesn't remember it. She leaves at first light, unable to stand it any longer.