westfallcorndog | Chat of Mythology

Harrow shakes his head and laughs at Viatorus' assessment of the universe. When he quiets down he's smiling softly, still shaking his head.

"My brother Lawrence, who's five or six years older than me, taught me a lotta stuff when I was a teenager. Mom and Dad, too. But I guess I figured a lot of it out on my own. I made my own mistakes – boy, did I ever – and I learned from 'em. But mostly I thought about folks in my free time?"

He twists up his face as he thinks, tries to find the words he wants.

"I think I told you before I was shy growin' up, right? I didn't have a lotta friends. I spent most of my time quiet, even around my family, and I thought. But I didn't know anything smart like magic or math or alchemy or anything like that. So... Mostly I thought about people. I'd work out in the fields and think about the things folks did or said, and I'd ask myself 'Why'd she do that?' 'Why'd he say that?' I guess after a while I got used to recognizin' the secret reasons folks did the things they did. Usually it's 'cause they were scared in one way or another. Sometimes it was 'cause they were naive and wanted to do somethin' good but hadn't thought it through. I think mostly it was the second, kinda. Folks just don't always think things through. They make a decision now and don't think about how it's gonna be in the future."

Laughing, he lightly pokes his thumb into his chest. "I'm like that. I know I am. When things get hectic, I can't think for the future. I act now and deal with it later, which... Ain't a great way to go through life, but I still haven't figured out how to think ahead. And, see, that's how folks who're mostly good sometimes do stuff that really, really ain't. Everything's got a pattern if you look deep enough. You can't always predict what someone's gonna do before they do it, but you can think about what drives 'em and the ways their brain works. You can figure out what they did in the past or what they do in the present, and you can kinda make sense of it."

He looks away, but only briefly. His eyes are back on Viatorus and his smile is still there.

"You wanna practice thinkin' about other folks' motivations? Maybe it'd do you some good? You could tell me about someone you don't always get, and tell me somethin' they do that really makes you confused, and we can walk through what's probably goin' through their minds to get them where they are."

Chuckling quietly he adds, "If you can't think of someone, you can say 'Harrowheart' and we can see what you think about why I do the stuff I do? I promise I won't get mad if you guess bad stuff."

A lot of what Harrowheart makes sense. Pondering things helps unlock their secrets. Everything can usually be traced back to a simple cause. Patterns can be found in everything. Practice does make perfect. Viatorus takes all of this in with a small, slow nodding. It's familiar, and that helps. Makes it easier to accept and adapt to.

The exercise is met with Viatorus immediately opening his mouth, and then closing it shut again. The Archon has always baffled him, even with the repeated mantras everyone seems to explain him with. But Harrowheart, like many of his friends, has heard so many of the worse parts of his family. He doesn't want to add more to that list, and the Archon is certainly not any kind of paragon of kindness.

He falters and tries to think of someone else. Most of the people he knows he doesn't know well enough to be confused about them. There's Amelia, and she confuses him more than enough, but... there are feelings and questions there that are still in the process of being buried. Some things are best buried.

After thorough consideration he looks at his friend apologetically. "I-If you're sure you don't mind being the example..."

Harrow puffs out his cheeks while he thinks this all through. His breath comes out in a quick, cold puff, and, after heaving another sigh for good measure he nods. He's sure to smile after so that Viatorus knows this isn't a burden.

"Hard to think about myself. Harder to say it all out loud. How about... Why... Does... Harrowheart get all violent and mean sometimes?"

He tips his head and shrugs his shoulders. "Well, usually when I wanna answer those kindsa questions, I think: What was their past like? What kinda life do they come from? And then I think about what emotions they might be feelin'. And after that I think about the goal the person's got in mind. So I'd think about it like this:

"He grew up in the country, and maybe that's how people act? Or maybe not, so maybe that's not it. And he was a soldier, and soldiers solve their problems by fightin', so maybe that's it? Well, maybe that's part of it. He's a worgen, too, and maybe they're just fighty animals, even if he isn't always in his worgen form. Well, maybe that's true and maybe it isn't. There's a lotta folks who'd say it's true 'cause it's an easy way out, but I don't think it's ever fair to just assume a person acts the way they do because they're not all human. So we'll go ahead and think a little deeper than 'he's undead,' too.

"Then, what does he feel when he says he's gonna fight people? Depends on the context, doesn't it? Maybe he said he was gonna fight the necromancer in the mansion 'cause he was scared of what he could do. But there's lots of things folks can do when they're scared. It doesn't always have to be violence. They could just admit it, or they stay real quiet, or they could keep real cool so nobody has any idea how they feel. So why act mean when he coulda done other things? What'd he hope to achieve?"

Harrow pauses, shrugs again. "Maybe he wanted to look big and scary 'cause he likes lookin' big and scary. Maybe that's how he wants people to see him sometimes. Maybe he likes it when people are afraid of him, and then he feels powerful."

He raises his eyebrows then and says, "Or maybe not. You really gotta know a person well to know their deep motivations. Usually I settle on knowin' their history and their emotions at the time. Solves it well enough to fix things, usually. Close as most of us'll ever come to really knowin' what another person's thinkin' without bein' in their head and knowin' all the secret things they've done and seen and thought that drive 'em forward."

It's just as well Harrowheart's careful to use the right body language. It circumvents Viatorus' initial fear that he'd stepped a line. Sometimes it's so hard to tell.

The approach Harrowheart takes does make Viatorus wince a little though. He would never have dared say any such thing about his friend. He might have thought it once or twice, but that's another thing entirely.

He settles into listening with a furrowed brow, but takes all of it in with the occasional nod to make sure Harrowhearts knows he's following.

"And when you know all of these things. Or, when you've guessed all of these things. What do you do then? What do you do with all these suspicions and the empathy?" He takes a breath, pausing to try and explain his questions. "Because... Because... usually that... just makes me better able to... feel what they feel, and... Then I can't do anything. I can't help. I can just... feel. I can't think clearly."

Harrow laughs in quiet confusion before blurting out a very gruff, "What?"

He leans to get a better look at V's face and quickly realizes he's not trying to play some kind of strange joke. Harrow's eyes shift slowly left and right as he thinks about what he's being asked and told.

He clears his throat and in an effort to recoup after the sudden disappearance of his manners says, "I... I really don't think I've ever... Had that problem myself. Uh..."

His utter lack of a good answer brings a queasy sort of wince across his features.

"Does this happen to you often?... Is that why you kinda sometimes..."

He quickly draws a finger across his neck and rolls his eyes up like a dying man. His crude impersonation only lasts a second before he's back to normal and worriedly asking, "Y'know? Like in the mansion?"

Edited 2016-06-14 21:05 (UTC)

Laughter and then confusion... Those aren't the reactions he was expecting. He pulls back a little in a small defensive motion. He soon eases into his own confusion as he watches Harrowheart try to understand what Viatorus is talking about.

He blinks at his friend and then shakes his head uncertainly. "I... don't know what..." He pauses to try and mimic the eye rolling and the finger across the neck. Mostly he just pulls a face. "... means."

Harrow continues pulling a face. Yikes... He really is blowing this, isn't he? With great concentration he neutralizes his expression, focuses on some unnecessary breathing, and finally nods.

Calmly he explains, "I meant... You freeze up. You practically die. It's like somethin' seizes you and you can't do anything. I've seen you do it a couple'a times now."

He rubs his hands against his upper arms and watches V with some concern. "Is that just what you do when you're scared, or is it 'cause you're thinkin' about what other people feel?"

"Oh." His shoulders drop a notch and he dips his eyes, pulling a sheepish face. "Yes. That."

How to explain it... "I... Both? I get scared a-and stressed. I try to calm down but... I can feel other people's emotions too. So many... And it's confusing, overwhelming. Then everything I do makes things worse. Which makes me more scared, and... so I... don't. Do anything."

"Damn, kid," is his reflexive response. But it's a while before he says anything more. He's got to sit on this, think on it. His fingers drum against the blanket and his eyes narrow now and then with the spark of a thought.

Eventually he turns back to his friend and offers up a slightly guilty smile and a non-committal shrug.

"I don't think there's any way around that," he says, and with it a harmless little laugh. "Most folks who freeze up in danger don't last long where I'm from, so I ain't ever met someone who acts like you act when they're scared. Seen, sure, but..."

He delicately pats V's shoulder and keeps his smile up. There's no need to be scared and worried now, little buddy.

"I wish I had a good answer for you on this one, but I don't think I do. I get the feelin' it's kinda... It's somethin' shameful to you? I bet that only makes it worse. Is it somethin' you wanna learn to work past? Did anyone ever try and train you to act otherwise?"

Wait.

"In a nice way?"

He actually has to stop and wonder why people who freeze up don't last long in Harrowheart's world. The realisation makes him wince, curling up even more.

"Some... Some people have tried to... help. So I could make speeches." Help is perhaps not the right word, and it's clear in the way he says it that it rarely felt like they were helping. He sighs and shakes his head. "But it never worked. It just made things worse. It only ever gets worse."

"Speeches, huh?" Somehow that's surprising to him. It's so easy to forget how important Viatorus and his success are to his family and their line when spending casual time together with him as a friend.

"But I know you can talk just fine when it's about somethin' you like? You talk just fine with me all the time. Is a speech really that different? Just... Pretend you're havin' a conversation with one person in the crowd, and everyone else just happens to be there. Or is that a dumb suggestion?"

Afraid that it might be, he plows on with another suggestion. "Why don't you practice a speech here on me? Do you remember any of the ones you had to give? If you don't, you could maybe make one up? I never did get to hear much of your world's lore. You could... Tell me about Morpheus! Or all your gods! But. In a speechy way."

The speed at which Viatorus shakes his head makes it look more like he's vibrating than protesting. He can already feel the sickness rising in his stomach and his lungs tightening.

He stares at Harrowheart with wide, stunned eyes. "I-I can't." A pause and he manages to add, "I-I-I just e-embarrass myself a-and my-my family."

Harrow grips Viatorus' shoulder perhaps a little too hard and tries, again, a little too hard, to get him to calm down.

"Don't be scared," he urges. He stares intensely at Viatorus, as if a death glare might somehow convince the young man to stay calm.

A few seconds pass as his expression softens until, much more calmly, he tries again with a small smile. "You don't gotta be scared right now, V. You're not an embarrassment. Not to yourself and not to your family. If you don't wanna do it, we won't do it. Just..."

He chuckles worriedly in a poor attempt to hide some of his own anxiety. "Don't act so scared. It gets me all... antsy."

His deathgrip loosens and instead he pats V's shoulder gently as he'd done so often earlier. With another nervous laugh he says, "I guess I do know what you were talkin' about earlier after all."

"Why?" It comes out before he can stop himself. Some part of him eager to turn the conversation to anything that isn't his own failings. Redirecting anxiety into curiosity is an easy solution. "Why do you get antsy when I get nervous? I've seen people get annoyed, but they're usually impatient, and family. You don't like it either, but you don't... you don't react like most people do."

Harrow's conflict shows on his face. He presses his lips into a thin line and looks around, then back to Viatorus, then again over the park, and once more back to his friend. It's as if he expects him to be gone the next time he looks back, and yet there he is, innocent and curious as ever (and, notably, calm again.)

"I..." he tries, but he doesn't get far. He pauses to laugh, but it's painfully obvious he doesn't find anything about any of this very humorous.

"I'd tell you, but... I don't want you to dislike me, or... Or stop trustin' me." His voice turns very stilted, as if he's forgotten how to speak. "I. Sometimes. Sometimes I tell the truth. About myself? And people. Stop liking me, so. I keep. My problems? To myself."

He shrugs and smiles painfully as he rubs his palms together. "Plus, you'll tell Isidor, just like with the worgen thing, and then she'll hate me again."

His first instinct is to press for more questions, his second is to take note of Harrowheart's sudden hesitation. The third is to wince guiltily. "I'm sorry. I... I shouldn't have. It's just... It just came out when I was talking to her about being in your body."

The guilt curbs his curiosity at least. It brings him back to remember his sympathy, to focus on it. He's quiet for a bit, fidgeting before he looks up at Harrowheart again.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I do trust you. And I do like you. And I promise I won't tell Isidor if you don't want me to."

Viatorus' apologies at least keep him from feeling more guilty himself. He smiles and nods once, both small motions.

"I knew you didn't mean bad by tellin' her," he says softly. "I was surprised, but I wasn't mad. I figured that was why you told her. Not to be a snitch or nothin'."

He looks down at his own hands and is quiet for a while. He has to think this all over. On the one hand, it's so difficult to keep inside things he wishes he could talk about. On the other, certain things once said never really leave someone's mind. It's good to be honest, but aren't there certain things a person should keep to themselves?

In the end he decides to explain, however slowly.

"Sometimes... When people are scared around me, I..." He pauses for a wince. "I want to hurt 'em. I get this tightness in my chest and my thoughts get a little foggy, and I wanna hurt 'em until they stop bein' scared, no matter what that means."

He scrubs at his face with both hands, covers his eyes, and shakes his head. "It's not that I want to hurt my friends! It's not that I want to hurt you, o-or anyone. It's like it just happens and I can't stop from feelin' it. I can't stop it until it starts, and then I always feel so guilty, and so... Evil."

He stops his scrubbing now and his hands stay still over his eyes. His shoulders heave with the effort of a sigh, and then he's back to shaking his head lightly.

"I feel so bad about the last time it happened. I got burned by a fireball when the winter spirit came around, and I didn't look like myself. Amelia saw me, and she got scared. Real scared. Screamin' and all. She started to run away, and I couldn't help myself. I felt that bad thrill feelin' and I took a few steps after her. I really... I wanted to hurt her. Even though she's my friend, I really wanted to. I think if I were back home, I wouldn't'a been able to stop myself. And I feel... So bad about it. I don't know how I'm gonna face her again, even if she doesn't know what I was thinkin'. All that matters is I know. And... I know friends don't act like this. I know normal people don't think these thoughts."

Another sigh. He lifts his knees up to his chest and folds his arms over them and looks out across the park.

"I never used to be like this. I wanna tell myself this ain't who I am. That I'm not an evil person. But that just means I get these thoughts I can't hardly control 'cause I'm a death knight, or 'cause I'm a worgen, and I hate it. I hate that people always try and write off what I'm feelin' 'cause I'm one way or another. I'd rather just... I'd rather tell myself it's my choice. That it's just my personality, and I'm an evil bastard who wants to hurt his friends. 'Cause at least then I'd feel like I'm in control."

Viatorus leans forward, as though it will help keep eye contact with his friend. It's easier to listen than to talk, and he's genuinely interested. A little uncertain too once he realises that this... really affects Harrowheart.

He understands why the instant it's explained. It makes him pull back in surprise, wincing in disgust instinctively. An expression he does his best to quickly smooth over, but it's clear that it's disconcerting for him as he hears Harrowheart's explanation. The horror of it mounts, rising... right until he hears how much self-loathing it causes his friend. Just like that, horror is overtaken by sympathy.

Viatorus looks away, out to the park where Harrowheart has turned his gaze to. It's pleasant, happy, still. What both of them want to be, really, he thinks. He's quiet for a long moment before he says, "I'm so sorry, Harrowheart. I... really am. I didn't know..."

He's not sure what to say, either.

Harrow forces a small laugh and quickly turns his attention to Viatorus again to show his best attempt at a smile.

"You don't gotta be sorry for me," he says. "It's..." His mouth stays open for a while, but he finds he isn't sure how to say what he wants to say. He goes back to his queasy smiling and shrugs.

As he focuses on the empty food basket he decides he has the words after all. "It's the price I pay for the choices I made. You don't gotta be sorry for that any more than you gotta be sorry for a prisoner in the stocks or a traitor at the gallows. Just... Don't hold it against me too bad."

And then, surprising even him, a little laugh bubbles up and he turns back to Viatorus with a much more honest smile. "And like I said, don't tell Isidor. I want her to think nice things about me, if that's even possible."

"I won't hold is against you, and I won't tell Isidor," he promises, eager to offer his friend... some kind of support. He fidgets and then goes quiet and apologetic. "I'm sorry she's been so hard on you. She's been hard on everyone, really. She... she's not used to me having friends. And there... aren't guidelines on how to deal with living an alternate life in another plane. She's... just worried for me. All the time."

There's a pause and then he offers a small smile. "I guess it's like you seeing someone scared. If she sees I might be in trouble... She can't help it. She has to do something to stop it. Only... she turns to the people around me."

Harrow smiles sympathetically and nods along with that last description. If Viatorus will allow it, he reaches out with an arm to drape over his friend's shoulders once more.

"Maybe we should do somethin' special for her to put her mind at ease, huh? Kinda like how we had that party for you? Then you'd be more free to explore this place without her worryin'. Do y'all ever do anything fun together? Does your family have some kinda... Idunno... Ancient wizard tradition y'all do when someone's sad or worried? A game, a special festival, anything like that? Or... Does she have hobbies? Y'know, things that make her happy?"

He hasn't forgotten the time in the family record room when Isidor was utterly at a loss for things that brought her happiness that weren't related to her brother, but perhaps Viatorus, in his infinite wisdom, will have some idea.

The contact is only mildly uncomfortable, and mostly because of the subjects they'd ended up discussing. A wandering eye spots Lyall, still nearby, keeping a seemingly casual watch. The guard, and the thought of the anti-violence field, allow him to more easily dispel any fears of his friend's newly explained violent streak.

"She likes fires. Bonfires, I mean," he tells Harrowheart thoughtfully. "She's usually happy when we have bonfires and music. When she can dance. Sometimes she doesn't want to around other people, though." He sighs and looks around while he thinks. "She likes sparring. I think she wishes I did it more. She likes watching people on television fight sometimes, too." Judging by the little wrinkle of his nose, it's not something he approves of. He scrounges around for any other ideas. "We used to go cycling when we were younger. Around parks and things like that. Those were always good times."

"Fires!" Harrow exclaims suddenly, then clears his throat and pulls a worried face. "Fire, that's. Whew. Yeah. Fire's so good. Undead just... Love it..."

He bites his lips into a thin line and stares wide-eyed off into the distance, unbreathing until finally a heavy sigh escapes his nose.

"I'll level with you, my guy. Fire is the number one scary thing when you're undead, maybe right after holy magic. I catch fire like –" he snaps his fingers and shrugs "– and there I go. Whoosh. Up like a bale a' hay. But."

Another little sigh. "I'd help you make a bonfire for her, if you wanted. Or you and I could spar for her? We could make it look like you'd win, and then she'd be so proud of you! Yeah, I could do that! Probably better than I could cycle, 'cause I don't really know what that is or nothin'."

"Oh." Viatorus blinks at him. He's.... learning a lot more about Harrowheart than he expected. Up until that point he was sure Harrowheart wasn't afraid of anything. Except threats from foreign necromancers, maybe.

"No... I mean... If you don't like fire, I won't ask you to make one. I'm... not very good at it anyway. I like water better." As for the second suggestion... He hesitates, frowning a little as he thinks. "I wouldn't like to fight you. What if I hurt you? Besides, I'm not a very good liar. I think she'd see through that.

"Hurt me?" Oh no, excuse him as he laughs for a moment. He shakes Viatorus' shoulder and leans forward with the most amused and incredulous expression. When he calms he pats V's chest with such gentle care, as if he were the most precious thing in the Nexus.

"V, you're so sweet, you know that? Honey, you wouldn't hurt me. Not for more than a few seconds, anyway. I'm dead, remember? Half dead, anyway. Pain only hurts half as bad, and it goes away if I really focus. Kind of a downer that nice feelings only feel half as good, too, but that ain't the point. The point is, you can spar with me like I'm a trainin' dummy, and I won't mind! I guarantee I've already had worse happen to me than you could do, short of maybe... Vaporizin' me."

He mimes a small explosion with his hands and makes a tiny 'boosh' sound as he does.

"And look at it this way: You wouldn't have to be the one lyin' to Isidor, I would! You do your magic, gimme all you got, and I'll pretend you really found my weakness and kicked my ass! Shoot, you don't even really gotta do anything. You can just look me right in the eye and I'll pretend you're a mindflayer who scrambled up my brains. I'll feign a concussion, fall down, and you'll be the winner! She'll totally fall for it! And then she'll heap you with praise for kickin' my ass! She'll be prouder of you than she's ever been! Veeeeeee, you know you wannaaaa..."

He's grinning and he's nodding and he's staring V right in the eyes. It's as close to hypnotism as he can get: Peer pressure.

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