cactusy | IC contact for lastvoyages

I don't know, I kind of assumed it would be," she says dryly. "You ever meet a group of enforcement officers that are supposed to function totally on their own?"

"Still not exactly the impression I've gotten, but - how is that, to someone like you?"

Well, yes. He assumes her opinion isn't based on a wide sample size, and apparently she's Not Friending the majority of people he's already Not Friended.

"How's what?" Sweeney isn't sure which part needs clarification.

"Feeling like you only matter because you're useful. Most people wouldn't like it, but--"

But she remembers the feeling of rightness and correctness in that memory she'd gotten, and she still feels it deep enough in her bones that she suspects there are other, similar ones still lurking inside her, waiting to be dug up. She remembers how personally he'd taken it, how much it had hurt him, when she'd run afoul of his nature.

Maybe for someone like him, that's enough.

Hm. There's still a lot of flexibility inside that idea. Sweeney wets his lips while he looks for a way to explain it.

"D'pends on the circumstance." How to put it?

"You remember. The wantin'. The knowin' that yer so useful that someone would give all they have fer yer Favor." That...that is not this. His eyes slip briefly beneath their lids.

"Here?" Sweeney sighs. "Most fall in the two camps. Folk ask me ta do stuff fer 'the Greater Good' or they know they gotta go through the motions 'nough ta check the boxes off my list so I'll do the damn thing." Not exactly the most fulfilling.

"The rest'a the time, I just gotta do shit on my own 'cause folk won't f'gure out what they want well 'nough." He shrugs his head.

"Only took me the one food shortage ta find ways ta sort out that shit. Set up food preservation, dryin' shit an' makin' cheese." Sweeney goes down his list.

"See the greenhouse set with seeds from each port--fuck, earth from one of 'em. Saw goats brought on boat ta start that dairy. Thank fuck B's good with them." Credit where credit's due.

"It's crankin' through lists e'ery time I'm off this fuckin' thing, so it gets done while other folk go fuck around." He shakes his head.

"It's me bein' the one makin' the Offerin'. Givin' of myself; time, effort, an' what parts of me I'm able ta cut away--just lookin' fer that fuckin' shower."

On the one hand, she doesn't really blame the rest of the ship for not going along with proper leprechaun methodology (though she finds herself wondering, suddenly, exactly how supplying the ship works - does the Admiral not provide this stuff? If not, why not?). But on the other hand, she feels a ball of frustration tightening in her chest, because why the hell can't people just do things right, why can't they learn--

It's not really her frustration, she reminds herself, though her hands ball into fists all the same.

"This place isn't made for people like you, and it sure as hell isn't made for people like me. We can get by, but we'll never fit."

That about sums it up, as far as she's concerned.

"Fae folk ain't made fer fittin'," he muses, half to himself.

"S'pposed ta be outsiders, ridin' the magic edges where Safe meets the Unknown." Sweeney shakes his head at the memory.

"We ain't made fer comin' Home, 'nless ya steal her skin first." His eyes roll beneath their lids. Even with all the lives lived since then, he can still feel Sheridan's longing for his lost pelt. Eventually, his focus finds her again.

"Aye, that's the fuckin' rub. Only time the fuckin' Adm'ral gives me somethin' I want's when I stop doin' shit ta earn it." He feels like there's something in there that he can't quite make sense of.

"Course, just as likely that me stoppin' would end up with me bein' blinked off inta bein' Dead again, so...gotta run the numbers."

At the moment, things aren't worth the risk. But they will be someday; he's certain of it.

You probably have some brain chemistry issues, too. It's not curable.

[Sorry Kirei, Shaw is not someone one goes to for gentle reassurance.]

Maybe she could've helped you. But she couldn't've fixed you.

Yes, I know that now. It's clear our relationship was just a ridiculous waste of time.

[Shrug.]

That's why I said it doesn't matter.

So she didn't... matter at all, even beyond the stuff you couldn't feel?

Objectively, she mattered. All people matter, but her more than most.

To me, personally?

... I liked her. I respected her. I may have loved her. [Dead eyed. That word always feels so weird in his mouth.] But I had no business being married to her.

I'm just not meant for that type of relationship.

[She recognizes well the way he lets the word slip out of his mouth. It sounds just like she imagines it would if she used it.]

Neither am I.

[She stares out at the expanse beyond the deck rather than at him.]

Sometimes what we are or aren't meant for doesn't matter so much.

[And yet he's supposed to preach about it. Truly absurd.]

What do you mean?

I mean--

[And now she looks at him, her eyes more alert than they have been at all so far in this conversation.]

No matter what your nature is, you still have a choice in what you do. Did you ever hurt her?

[...]

I agree with you, and no, I never physically hurt her. But I wasn't a good husband, and I wasn't happy.

That's the difference between our respective relationships. You were actually happy with Root.

[He's so jealous.]

I'd definitely suck as a wife, or trying to do the quiet civilian life thing. Just saying. Things were good with Root because we wanted similar things out of life. We let ourselves be ourselves. What do you think being a "good husband" means?

[She's guessing that it's something incredibly domestic.]

I think I shouldn't be myself, at least not completely.

[Nobody wants Kirei to be himself. Even Kirei isn't sure whether or not he wants that.]

... I imagine it will sound quite silly to you, but I was raised to believe marriage is a sacred union between two people, indissoluble by anything except death, founded on mutual love and self-sacrifice, meant to elevate and cultivate what's best in those who are called to it, helping them grow closer to God and become more Christ-like.

[He wasn't a very Christ-like husband.]

Well. Looks like we've been deemed as 'compatible'. Didn't even wait until our temp time was up.

Congrats, I guess? And- sorry that I'm your problem now, officially.

Edited 2023-04-30 16:37 (UTC)

You're sorry? And here I was worried I'd get saddled with de Lioncourt, or Octavius, or Avalon--

[ He's already chuckling by the time she gets to Lestat. ]

Okay, okay- I get the picture. I'm not, at least, stuck in a millennia-long rut of murder. Or...I don't know who Octavius is, actually.

A smug, self-important asshole.

Point is, a lot of people here don't feel worth knowing, but you do.

Yeah... [ He trails off. ]

We'll see how long you keep thinking that. Hope it's awhile.

Seriously? What's with the moping?

[ There's a small breath of a laugh on the other side. ]

Well. It's just annoying, you know? Because I actually want you to get your Deal. And I'm going to work on this, I will. But I don't-

I'm not sure me and the ship here are ever going to fully agree.

Join the club. You wanna see the first couple posts I made here and how much they pissed everybody off? I have testimonies from about five separate wardens that I'm not made for this place.

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