channellings | ☂ asgard inbox

( It's an understatement to say that the seventy-odd days Emil has thus far experienced in Asgard have been eventful. At first it was a one-two punch with some breathing room in between everything. As of late, it's felt like not just the pace at which conflicts and other forms of drama have occurred have increased, but the intensity as well. He's been scared. He's been hurt. He's been terrified.

The past half a year has made that par for the course, Asgard or no Asgard. There are two main similarities that the two settings share, however. One is the worlds in general -- his home has its own set of monstrosities, and Asgard hasn't shown entirely similar ones, but natural occurrences of the land that contribute to fear and survival. The second is the particular person who has existed within both places: Lalli.

But is that fair? Tuuri lives on both planes -- and eventually even died on one. Her death was a traumatic reality, but the emotional toll...it's long and harrowing, not so sharp and painful as it is when Lalli's mortality and well-being has been called into question, over and over. Each time feels more like it could be final; the potential is there for one of these occurrences to be more permanent or fatal. Emil has never experienced feelings so close to despair and heartbreak in his life.

Then again, even he knows now that he hasn't exactly experienced a lot in the first place.

His brain is used to forcing itself to reach a conclusion, assuring himself of something instead of looping around what it doesn't understand. Whatever falls into that category is deemed unnecessary, foolish -- even if he's trying to break this mental habit, it's still his best way to handle bigger issues that he can't grasp. This...concept is one of them. It's hard not having a close confidant or someone objective who would be okay with talking about these things.

-- Which isn't to say Klaus isn't his second favourite person in Asgard. Just that Emil has trepidation about approaching him with something like this. Objectivity in this situation may not be possible with Klaus, but if he can get him to focus, and to think about things without any sort of bias...well, even if he can't, Klaus is his only hope, here.

He's easy to find, in the still-skeletal house and shuffling through a bunch of plants that Emil only vaguely remembers from the forest -- he'd been the designated basket holder, after all -- and Emil's face falls a little flat seeing the activity. He's not scientifically minded enough to think about the benefits of trial and error. All Emil knows is his friend came into close contact with just one of those ugly things and came out blind for nearly half a day. )

Preoccupied? ( Trying his best to keep any sass out of his voice. He may feel a certain way about this gardening game Klaus is playing, but they can't hand a conversation about what he really wants to subtly talk about if he goes off about some dumb plants. )

[nothing about life is fair. klaus's pretty sure he and emil have had that discussion before— or maybe he's imagining it? perhaps something he thought he should've mentioned if anything.

to be quite honest, all of the ‘boyfriend’ stuff has only been with emil because he reacts. it's always so much more fun getting a rise out of someone, particularly when the swede just gives him some great retorts. that, and having his hair teased, whether physically or verbally. lalli, on the other hand, would likely roll his eyes, grunt at him then wander off to do. gremlin mage stuff. way less amusing in the long run.

the footsteps capture his attention first, he raises his gaze and tilts his head, gloved fingers briskly setting aside the leaves he's holding. see, he remembers what happened as well, still feels terrible about it. has even contemplated telling his friends to not worry about it, they won't be going back—

but downing that highly questionable mushroom and tripping for four hours had been totally worth it. on top of the, uh, other thing that'd happened during, which he'll be keeping under wraps. kiss and tell isn't exactly klaus's thing.

he seals the foliage away, carefully strips the gloves off, sets them plenty far enough away, there shouldn't be any worry of coming into contact.] I was, [his own voice's lowered, almost chagrined-sounding, though he bites his cheek, attempts something more chipper after wiping his hands on a nearby wet towel.] But you caught me at a perfect time. I was thinking of taking a break.

[no, he wasn't. emil doesn't need to know, though. reaching for another bag (opposite of his workstation), klaus flips it open, gestures toward the various fruit and bags of sweets.] If you want. [he chooses an apple himself, rolls it between his hands while tentatively peeking upward.] Something on your mind, champ?

( Watching Klaus, even Emil can tell he's not as energetic as usual. The reason for that may be something he can suppose about, but for now it's useful. Maybe he's capable of staying more level-headed about things.

On the other side of things, it's hard to stay level himself. He has to walk a tightrope during this conversation, not implying too much or allowing for room for things to be insinuated. That's not what he's trying to do. Wanting information and examples of emotional experiences doesn't confirm anything...but then what's the point in asking at all if there isn't an inkling?

It's easier to find something else to focus his attention on, so he does take some fruit when it's offered. An orange -- peeling the skin off will keep his hands and his eyes busy, even if for now he simply sits next to the bag and rolls the fruit in his hand.

The topic he's trying to broach...he knows it's a difficult one, based on how emotionally raw Klaus was when it was first brought up. Trying to brace for that, work out what's running through his mind and force his mouth to finally talk -- which is saying something where Emil is concerned -- is all a lot at the moment. )

During that whole big incident. ( He squeezes the hard orange slightly, only pressing on because his stubbornness is winning out over his vulnerability. He keeps his voice low, trying hard to keep this conversation as close to the both of them as possible, even if no one else is present. ) You mentioned. Mm. Someone that you cared about. A lot.

I wanted to know more about that.

[the insane trip he'd just come down from some brief amount of hours ago might have something to do with his lacking enthusiasm. a tiny detail he'll never tell emil (or anyone else for that matter, rhys aside) about if it can be avoided. although, something tells him it's going to somehow end up being brought to light eventually.

for what it may be worth, klaus has taken emil's words during the moment into account, does his best avoiding making the comment now since it's neither been confirmed nor denied and he hasn't raised the subject with either of them.

he watches emil choose an orange, flickers his gaze between it, his own piece of fruit and their feet. anywhere that's not emil's eyes because then he risks the swede catching how bloodshot they really are, chances the possible glimpse of his blown-out pupils— and they can't have that happening, can they? no siree.

admittedly though, emil's struggle with words is concerning, a little disheartening, even. he wants to ask what's going on, maybe inquire what's got his friend so knotted up, but the blond finally finds what he wants to say before he can interject.

klaus chances a half-upward glance, the slightest peek from beneath his eyelashes then he looks away again at the mention of the fight. as soon as emil tacks on the inquiry about what he'd said during their silly little emotional outbursts, he's promptly redirecting his gaze, mouth agape, unconcerned by whatever emil may notice.] You want to know more about Dave, [he ultimately manages, a matter-of-fact statement.

why is it when he thinks an old wound can stay closed, it gets torn back open with a renewed viciousness? after a deliberate sigh,] What, uh, did you wanna know? [and then he downcasts his eyes to his apple, pushes the bluntness of his thumbnail against its flesh. better than his own, he supposes.]

( Emil switches from glance at Klaus and his reaction to his question, to rolling his orange between two fingers. He suddenly realizes he has no desire to eat this fruit, get his hands sticky and he barely likes citrus to begin with. And yet he stops to pick at the skin with his other unoccupied hand, finding that his decision to utilize it as a focus object was actually a smart idea. )

Yeah. Dave. ( He parrots the name back, realizing that it's new information. Dave, the person who died in...Vietnam. Emil remembers the country. ) Mostly I just...what was Dave to you?

( The worst part of this, he's found out, is the anticipation that he's upset his friend. Emil is already sure that he has in some way, looking at what parts of his face he can see. He can see the red in his eyes, what little he can see of them, and it's already quite clear how upset he is. There's a quick pang of guilt at this whole line of questioning, but the importance of it all is in and of itself good information to have. )

[if klaus were strong enough, the apple would be smashed between his fingers, fruit crushed and juice splattered in all directions— but he's not, so the thing stays whole in his hands, aside from the flecks of skin his nails have suddenly peeled off.]

Dave was— [he hesitates a few seconds, realizes he's holding his breath, exhales before eventually continuing.] You could say he was my boyfriend. The only other person I cared about more than myself. [another pause, his eyes flickering back upward to emil.] Or so I thought, anyway.

[since he's met a whole lot of people he cares about here on asgard, regardless of how they might have upset him with dredging up old memories again. hopefully, emil doesn't feel too guilty, he's not at fault for any of it. the redness is nothing to be concerned about and if klaus's being honest? talking about him makes the pain lessen a little.]

( The grip he has on the apple is hard to miss, and to see his fingers dig into the flesh of the fruit makes Emil's gaze grow wide. He definitely knew that he'd picked a touchy topic for conversation, but the physical reaction spreads a warm sensation across his body. The urge to slink away and turn tail is definitely present.

What he gets from Klaus is basically what he supposed the situation was; it was all but explicitly stated based on the context of the previous conversation surrounding this mysterious Dave. Still, there's a lot he doesn't really understand and big gaps in his emotional intelligence regarding the subject -- he can admit that to himself, maybe even openly if prodded, even not using those words. )

Mm. ( Emil hums stupidly as he tries to find what to say next. It's helpful info but not really...what he needs to suss out. Words are fine and dandy, but it's what you put behind them that he's focused on right now. ) Mostly I'm curious about...hmm.

Is that why he was your boyfriend? Because you cared that much? ( It is basically impossible to try and be subtle about this, in case one might wonder if he's trying or not. The answer is yes, he's just. Failing. )

[whenever klaus raises his head to better see the look on emil's face, his eyebrows arch toward his hairline, gaze darting down toward the apple he's clutching so tight, it's making his hands hurt. he releases a strangled, astonished breath and drops the damn thing, letting it land on the ground between his knees with a solid thump, too-wide eyes staring at his now empty hands.

then he draws them up, cups them against his face, props onto his elbows and hides in his palms, where he takes a few deep, slow breaths in and out. keep in control, you idiot.

emil can take all the time he needs honestly, considering the fool beside him takes a bit longer than he means with his meditative breathing. klaus's listening; he's covering his eyes, not his ears. curiosity gets the best of him and at some point, he ponders what exactly emil wants to say, but holds his tongue until the question finally comes out.]

That's exactly why. We... [he laughs quietly, a little mirthlessly, lowers his arms to rest on his knees.] Well, we fell in love. I'd have taken a bullet for him and then— [dave took one for him instead. an awful sour taste floods his mouth, making his expression wrinkle with distaste, though he swallows down the bile, prays nothing else decides to come up with that stupid mushroom.]

( The further Klaus slides down the hole into the feelings and memories he's obviously dealing with, the more guilt Emil can't help but feel pushing down into his own chest. There are so many questions he wants to ask from here; everything is too blunt and factual, not explanatory enough for him to get what he needs out of this. But that requires probing more and more into topics that his friend is already very shaken by, and he isn't sure he should, or even can do that. )

You don't have to talk about it anymore. I know it hurts. ( It's not like he hasn't experienced loss before, but so close and so meaningful...unfathomable, really. He knows that when Lalli lost Tuuri, the pain had to be immeasurable, however much that weighs when you compare cousins to someone you love romantically. Another question he's quickly losing the guts to ask, as reflected in his quite and stricken tone, incapable of hiding how bad he feels at opening this wound again, if only just slightly. ) I was really just curious. It's not important.

No, I... I do need to talk about it. It happened and that's that. There's no changing the past. [completely, utterly untrue, but he's not going to open a whole other can of worms by mentioning spatial-jumping and time-traveling briefcases. painful though it is, klaus's right, it happened nevertheless and there's no going back, especially being here. not to mention, five being here as well, so.] Don't lie, [he murmurs, a gentle, not-quite-heated warning.] Obviously, something is important or you wouldn't have asked.

[he inclines his head once more, just long enough to wipe his fingers underneath his eyes before meeting his friend's gaze again. no more beating around the bush here, now.] What kind of answer are you looking for exactly?

Edited 2019-09-02 08:11 (UTC)

( Klaus can think that there's no more beating around the bush, but someone else isn't so clued in. )

Well, you brought it up that one time. I...didn't get to hear the rest of the story? ( It's really weak, if that's what he's going to use as his explanation for all of this. It's true that there was a bit of curiosity he had, that would have been explored more at the time had it not been such a volatile evening.

Thinking about it now means that Emil's thumb accidentally squeezes into the orange peel a little too hard, and he softly winces at the juice that comes out. Ew. ) So if you don't want to talk about it now, then some other time.

If you want.

[what an extraordinarily feeble attempt at covering his ass.

klaus's eyes narrow with skepticism, nose wrinkling, eyebrows knitting a couple seconds after.] There... isn't much else to say? He made sure I knew what I was doing, helped me through all the fighting. Taught me how to shoot. For ten months, I stayed and fought by his side, but after he died, I—

[can he tell him about the time-traveling? would it be a taboo subject that the commission might eventually hunt him down for? honestly, a better question would be: does he really give a shit?

no. no, he certainly does not. klaus's attention briefly diverts to emil's orange, he watches as the juice squirts out then looks back down at his feet.] Whenever he died and I had no reason left to stay anymore, I used the briefcase that brought me there to go back home. To my original time.

( It's all very...sad. A sad story to imagine. War -- the wars of the previous world, anyway -- sounded so tragic, violent and psychologically tormenting. Not that he has much in way of confirming or saying that. He's only barely experienced trauma from a war with creatures, let alone fully conceptualized the added mental straight of fighting other people. Even just the idea of it all, though, is something he can't stand. Seeing a fallen ally, especially one that you care for so deeply...it doesn't really change how intense that would feel, regardless of the enemy in question.

Luckily he doesn't have to think about it much more, nor the circling ideas of how it may or may not apply to his own current emotional predicament. Emil suddenly hears something so stalling, he can't help but immediately stutter out something stupid. )

I'm sorry. A briefcase? ( Like...the little rectangle bag you put papers and pens in? Bringing you to and away from war? A different time?

It can't be a joke based on the tone of the conversation, Klaus aside. The Old World sure was wild. )

[klaus wouldn't wish war on his worst enemy and he has a small handful of those. none emil would know, although he's waffling on his relationship(???) with someone they'd both had as a roommate once, yet even then— ivar's practiced for such things to be fair, so perhaps it isn't the most awful thing to wish on him? god, is... is that horrible of him? maybe just a bit.]

Yeah, a briefcase. With time-traveling powers. [an intensely long pause then:] Something the single family member I have here used to be able to do.

[might as well be downright sincere if he's going all the way with this truth thing.] I found it after a particular mishap. Thought I could sell it for, uh, drug money? And when I opened it – poof – fucking time-traveled instead!

( The tone of this conversation may be linear to Klaus, who has had to deal with this as a reality. To Emil, however, the serious nature has certainly take a roller coaster of a rise and dip. Time-travelling. Out of a briefcase. Drug money. )

I feel like we took a sharp turn somewhere. None of that makes any sense to me. ( It's not meant to be rude, even if that's how it comes off. He's just lost at how this conversation was opened with trying to suss out the nature of romantic feelings, and now he's having a hard time getting the picture of Klaus trying to shove himself into a large suitcase out of his head. ) And what's this about drugs, now?

( Like...medication drugs? The concept of hallucinogens and narcotics are lost on the sheltered and apocalyptic Emil, as well as his friend's own interest in these things. )

[of course it doesn't. you would've had to been there to understand. but klaus just sighs, scrubs his hands over his face and drags them downward, tugging his lower eyelids while doing so.

there's a long silence that stretches between them as he contemplates what to do, how to answer, what to respond with. he could be completely, utterly sincere and pour his stupid heart out, babble on about drug addiction and being tortured and broken families who are trying their best— except he doesn't want to, if he's being one hundred percent honest with himself. he'd much rather hold it all in, bottle everything up until it inevitably explodes like a cork from a bottle.

and yet,] I'm a drug addict, Emil. [followed by an even longer pause while he ponders amending his statement to say ‘was,’ but reminds himself: he literally just ate a goddamn hallucinogenic mushroom a few hours ago. so, he lets the quietness hang awkwardly.]

( The admission hangs there while Emil waits for a follow up explanation.The concept of addiction isn’t well-formed to Emil, who knows the definition of the word as it is, but not the reality of what it truly means. His exposure to alcohol is limited, even, and doesn’t know anyone who could be classified as an alcoholic.

What he does know is that it isn’t something good, especially coupled with that expression and the tone of Klaus’ voice. To be addicted to a medication, as is his conceptualizing of this, seems like a pitiable thing...and still it’s a hard thing to really grasp a hold of. )

Alright. ( His own tone is somewhat confused and resigned, not sure how to proceed without a full understanding of what that means. Something pained, something bad, something definitive. He’s already gone down a far enough rabbit hole, there’s no need in further emotionally exhausting either of them. ) Sorry I made you say things you may not have wanted to. I don’t get a lot of it but...some of it was useful.

( And it’s not a lie, even if you lost him in the later innings. )

[something solid and far too heavy falls straight down to his stomach. for a split second, klaus thinks his heart's actually tumbled into his belly, but when he realizes that isn't physically possible, he focuses on how his blood feels like icicles in his veins instead. neither one feels good at all, so regardless of what he concentrates on, he can't fight the urge to rub his hands over his face again.]

Nothing you gotta apologize for. You didn't do any of this to me, I did it to myself.

[and hey, it's dawned on him: he wasn't wrong about emil having an ulterior motive by asking him about all this.] Although, if you're really sorry, [he sniffs, rapidly blinks a few times then turns his attention fully on emil.] Tell me what you needed it for. What made it useful?

( Well, that was a corner he backed himself into. Emil's somewhat expressionless face, outside of the occasionally confused stare, turns to one of surprise. A deer in the headlights. This is why no one should ever tell him any secrets -- he can't even keep his own.

Maybe it can still be salvaged. The time it takes for his mind's wheels to turn have created something of an awkward silence, made worse by the fact that he can't come up with anything he can use to cover his ass. Not to mention the guilt trip that's attached to it...ugh.

If he insists. ) I'll tell you, but you can't be...dramatic about it.

[see, emil? klaus didn't even have to work that hard, it just kinda happened for him. in kind, the former medium's eyes widen as well, eyebrows arching high, mouth opening like he might ask a question, but something tells him to wait—

the silence is hella awkward, and yet he doesn't regret a single moment of it when emil ultimately accepts his fate. how funny though, his usual reaction is nowhere in sight, replaced by a far more muted sort of irritation. he sighs wearily, props his chin on his fist and irregularly drums fingertips against his knee.]

Come on, man. I haven't got the energy to be dramatic right now, even if I wanted to.

( If Klaus liked that awkward silence, he's in for a real treat this time around. Emil's made the mistake of committing to some kind of explanation, but he doesn't know exactly how to do so. It takes a very pained and literal minute before he can verbally express any sort of clarification. )

I've never really had a friend before. Just my family, you know? I'm just...I wanted to know what exists outside of that, if that makes sense? How that feels. Sort of.

( That's as looping as he can make that logic without directly asking something too blunt for his sensibilities. Even if it's strikingly obvious what he's actually asking, if you have a brain. )

[yeah, thanks, he loves it (but also hates it because it feels far more awkward than the other one). klaus considers opening his mouth to fill the silence with an inquisitive noise at the very least— then emil seems able to find his voice again.]

Aw, that's. That sounds a lot sadder than it should? I understand what you're getting at. [but.] Hold the fuck up, though. [his hand even raises, tattooed palm hopefully enough to keep emil from interrupting his realization,] You're asking me if there's anything beyond friendship?

[let him be crystal-clear about this. oh, and he is not being dramatic about it either, just. being intensely sure he's hearing right through any lingering psychotropic fog.]

( This is going less dramatically than he thought it would, at least. Maybe that does say a lot about Klaus' current levels of energy. He should catch him at this level more often -- even if that means catching him after a shroom-filled sexcapade, despite being unaware of this fact. )

I know there is. ( Emil's nose wrinkles at the question. He's not that ignorant, despite some preconceived notions. It's fortuitous for Klaus, though, since the implication forces him to prove he's not as stupid as one might think he is via being a little more straightforward. ) I'm asking how you're supposed to know what that feels like. What the difference is.

[which is what emil had wanted, right? his posture slackens after some odd seconds and the hand rubs his forehead before eventually dropping to his knee. oof, it's been a Day already, hasn't it? but he isn't down and out.]

When you care about somebody else more than you care about yourself. [or that's how it'd been for him?] Something more on a romantic level? There's a distinct difference between that and platonic love. Or in my opinion, at least.

( That orange is still hanging around in his one hand, and Emil suddenly remembers its existence enough to drop it. The feeling of the juice leaking onto his hand is not the external stimuli he wanted to focus on outside of this conversation, and it's just become an irritant. )

That's the difference I mean -- maybe. Whatever platonic might mean. ( It's not a word that's part of his vocabulary that often, at least not often enough that he's comfortable with the definition. ) You're supposed to care more about members of you family than yourself, right? So what's the difference between your family and...?

( You Know )

☂ asgard inbox

( action, day 74 )

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