redshiftlogs | [open] nobody knows it but me when i slip

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[open] nobody knows it but me when i slip

Who: Onni Hotakainen; Ben Hargreeves, open to anyone else who might be in the Library
What: Onni has a bit of a personal problem and turns to the Library for help.
When: mid-September
Where: Library
Format: Whatever you like. I started in brackets, but I do love prose.
Notes: He'll be running into Ben on the first day but the research will take longer than that and I'd love some additional threads. For the non-canon-familiar: 'luonto' is a word for the spirit/life force of a Finnish person, 'runo' is a Finnish magic spell.

[Probably, he should have told Reynir by now, but Onni isn't exactly the type of person to share his vulnerabilities, even with people he likes. So when he'd discovered that he can still see and hear spirits, that he's still aware of and capable of using the power of his luonto and still goes to his haven in the dream space, but isn't capable of using runo anymore, he hadn't mentioned it. Gone on as if things were normal, even though he feels almost completely vulnerable and exposed in this strange place without any familiar method of self-protection.

It takes quite some time to talk himself into trying things another way - the Finnish gods aren't within his reach, he is too far from home, but if there are spirits here, there must be something else here he can call upon. It galls him, enough that he's felt prickly for a week straight, the thought of reaching out to foreign gods for protection, the thought of what that might do to his relationship with his own when he goes home. But the truth is, he can't be without his mage powers, for his own safety, for Reynir's, or for any of the other people here.

So it's just a matter of finding out what there might be here to call upon. Starting from scratch on his training. A huge pain, but not impossible.]

❄ For Ben

[Eventually, he settles on the Library as the best place to look for that kind of information, if such information exists. He feels on edge as he walks inside - it's not much bigger than most libraries he's attended, besides the big one in Mora, which is a little disappointing. Of course, he doesn't register that the computer banks are part of the library or really what they are at all. Computers are something he knows about in a passing sort of way, but he doesn't recognize them in this form. What he sees are books, lined up on shelves, some in his own language, others in languages he doesn't know or recognize.

Running his fingers over the spines, he tilts his head, glances up as a man comes out from behind the other end of the shelf - his dark hair is cropped short, and his dark eyes look calm enough, even if there's a strange aura about him, as if his spirit is far too big for the size of his body. Onni tilts his head, looking at him from under his fur hood, mouth set in a straight line.]

Do you know much about the books here?

❄ Open

[Of course, it takes much more than one day to do the type of research he needs to do in a place like this, so he comes back for a while every day, in the afternoon while Reynir is working on the garden in the upper levels and doesn't need his help. Cross-legged on the floor of the Library, still wearing his fur hooded cloak, he leans over to peer at the papers and books on the floor in front of him.

When people enter, he generally doesn't pay them much mind, at least until they get close enough that Onni can ask for help with his research. Whether it's a blunt 'can you read this?' or asking if they'll hand him a text, he isn't above requesting someone's input.]

❄

OOC Note: If your character wouldn't approach him directly, feel free to just put them nearby and I'll have him ask them something. If you want to wildcard, go for it! If you want to plot first, hit me up on discord at coffee #6251, in game chat, on plurk at

caffemisto, or by PM to this journal.

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She would have gone anyway.

[This is why they don't talk about these things: Lalli's eyes are hot and his vision is blurry again and here there's nowhere for him to hide and get it out of his system in peace.]

She was always going to leave someday.

[It wasn't your fault either, is what he's trying to say but can't quite manage to.]

[It's exactly what Reynir had said to him earlier, when he'd been sobbing and blaming himself, and there's something about hearing it from both of them that makes it easier to believe. Deep down, he knows it's true, that she would have left no matter what he did, no matter what he'd tried to do to keep her safe.

When he looks up and sees Lalli with his eyes wet and red-rimmed and his body tense, he feels a surge of complicated emotion. Pain and empathy and anger.

She would have gone anyway.

It's the first time he's felt angry at Tuuri for this, for all of it. For leaving him, for making Lalli watch her be infected and die and feel responsible for not protecting her. His breath hitches, but he manages not to sob, and the anger gives way to guilt for being angry at her.]

I know.

[He can barely get it out, and he isn't looking at Lalli when he says it.]

I'm sorry you had to be there.

[Lalli's hands clench into fists by his sides, shaking with tension.

Something he doesn't know how to express bubbles up within him, some kind of horrible grief awoken by Onni's understanding. It makes the words fall out of his mouth before he realizes he's saying them, surprises him enough that he can't even focus on making sure they're Finnish. It's almost not even directed at Onni; it's just a confession to the universe at large, revealed without his permission.]

I felt it.

[His ears are buzzing. He can barely even hear himself.]

When she--she drowned, I...

[It's the last thing he'd expected in response to what Onni had said. To be honest, he'd expected Lalli to accept it as the end of the conversation. It's obvious that this situation is genuinely painful for him, and it could be the end of it, they could both retreat to lick their wounds and pretend it hadn't happened.

But that isn't what happens.

Instead, Lalli squeezes his hands into fists and squeezes his eyes shut and his lashes are wet (Lalli never cries, has almost never cried, as long as Onni can remember) and he speaks. He says he felt it, that he felt it when she drowned, when she died. For a moment, Onni is completely still, his eyes widen, he can't breath, his ears are ringing and his heart is pounding hard in his chest. He can't process it, can't comprehend how it would affect a person to feel another person's death, let alone the death of a family member, a person he loves.

He can't imagine it. He can't imagine what that's been doing to Lalli. What he must have been feeling. What he must have been reliving.

Before he can think, before he can regain his capability to think and process any of this, he slides off the bed and stands. He takes a couple of steps toward Lalli, moving on sheer instinct, lifts his arms, goes in for a hug, and only manages to stop himself a second before he goes through with it. But he stands there, so close, shaking with the effort it takes not to pull Lalli into his arms, because he knows that it will only hurt his cousin worse.]

Lalli...

[After a moment of fighting himself, he lets one hand rest on Lalli's shoulder, squeezes carefully.]

[Lalli never cries because he hates it, hates his own body reinforcing that feeling of losing his composure, that loss of control. The only thing he ever wants to feel is the certainty of duty, the satisfaction that comes from doing his job, and that leaves no room ever for breaking. If he ever stops to let himself feel, then all that will get him is more failure. He doesn't know how Onni can stand it, doing it all the time.

But this is all too much to simply shove back down, even as he tries, he tries, his back frozen ramrod straight and his breathing comes in short, shallow gasps. He tries and his cheeks are still wet and he still feels like he's drowning all over again.

Then Onni puts a hand on his shoulder and whatever is left of his resolve crumbles. He feels something in him give like a collapsing dam and is mortified to hear himself sob, but he's unable to stop even as he hates it, hates it, hates it.]

[It is, honestly, an effort not to treat Lalli the way Onni would want to be treated if he were in his situation. He remembers the times he'd cried as a child and his mother had held him, remembers how comforting it had felt, and safe; Lalli isn't his child, but he's been caring for him for a long time, and no small part of him wants to comfort Lalli in that same way. But for Lalli, crying isn't cathartic, and being held isn't comforting, or at least it hasn't been for as long as Onni can remember. Lalli had always squirmed away when anyone tried to hug him, had dodged Onni's own instinctive attempts to hug him every time. It's how they'd developed this system of squeezing shoulders for comfort instead.

But Lalli doesn't flinch away. He just stands there, tense, body stiff, breathing in painful-sounding little pulls as he tries not to give in to the tears. And when he puts his hand on Lalli's shoulder, his cousin breaks down and sobs, and Onni can't restrain it anymore. Stepping just a little bit forward, he wraps his arms around Lalli. Carefully, tentatively, he presses a hand flat against Lalli's narrow back and ducks his head so his face is just above the crown of Lalli's, breathing into his hair but not touching him. Providing a shield and allowing Lalli to hide his emotions against his chest and shoulder, but not holding him tight enough that he would have to do much more than squirm to get free.

Onni is shaking, just a little, with his own emotion, with the fragility of the situation, with how out of his depth he feels, but he stands still and lets Lalli make his own choice about how he wants this. He doesn't say anything (what could he say? what could make this better?) and he doesn't shush Lalli, because they're at home in a safe place covered in protective runes and there are no beasts or trolls or Rash here, and if Lalli has the space and safety to cry anywhere, it would be here.]

[ For what seems like a long while, all Reynir can do is stand there, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot, taking cues from Lalli and Onni's body language. He picks up the occasional word - he had learned a few things by necessity during their expeditions together. He hears sorry a few times from Onni, and just once something about someone having died. Not hard to guess who, and what they are talking about.

Something in his gut twists up painfully when Lalli suddenly bursts out in words that he can understand that he had felt it when Tuuri drowned. Reynir hadn't known that. He hadn't realized at the time. Suddenly his own throat is feeling a little tight and he's blinking a bit faster than he ought to.

Reynir realizes, then, that he's probably done all he can, here. That his presence has gone from being a little awkward to being a lot intrusive. But he doesn't really feel comfortable going until Onni is touching Lalli's shoulder, and pulling him into a hug, and Lalli isn't hitting him or running away.

It's the most he can hope for, and he locks eyes with Onni for one quick moment before he is quietly, slowly heading for the door. He knows that Lalli wouldn't want Reynir seeing him like this, and he'll do him the courtesy of pretending it hadn't happened, when they see each other next.

He doesn't exactly feel great as he quietly closes the door on the two Hotakainens, but there's a kind of sad satisfaction to knowing they have one another. That they are talking things through and actually dealing with what they'd lost, and leaning on one another for support. ]

[Truthfully, Lalli has forgotten that Reynir was even there, and he doesn't notice when he leaves. When he stops to think about it later, realizes how much of this Reynir would have to have witnessed, he'll be mortified, but right now he's too occupied with the effort of not breaking into pieces.

Onni's hand on his back is the last nudge needed to ruin it all. Lalli's face finds the meat of Onni's shoulder like a magnet and he's sagging against the pillar of Onni's body before he can remember to try and keep himself upright. All he can think about is the unfairness.

He tries so hard. He does everything right, he doesn't let himself make mistakes, and in the end it doesn't matter. People still die. Tuuri still dies. Onni still leaves. What is he doing wrong? What else could he possibly do? Nobody's had answers for him in a very long time.

There's a strange wailing coming from somewhere and it takes too long for it to realize it's him. It comes out weird, muffled into the fabric of Onni's jacket, but once he's started he can't stop. His weight is entirely on Onni now, and he'll sink to the floor if Onni doesn't pick up the slack, but it doesn't even register. All he knows is that he's confused and tired and his chest hurts and nothing is fair and nothing makes sense. His family is all gone, Tuuri is gone, Onni is gone, and he doesn't know what he'll do when there's nobody left.]

[When Reynir leaves the room, he meets Onni's eyes for a moment, and Onni nods slightly, his expression grateful. Rather abruptly, this has gone from a painful conversation with his cousin to something profoundly private, and if Reynir hadn't chosen to go on his own, Onni would probably have asked him to. Onni and Lalli have never had an easy time with emotions, and being observed while they struggle with it is almost painful, like someone touching an exposed nerve.

When Lalli presses his face into his shoulder and sags against him, making a raw, vulnerable cry, broken off with sobs for breath, Onni wraps his arms tighter around Lalli and holds him close, supports his weight. Lalli feels so small like this, the bones of his shoulders and spine so close to the skin, shaking and heaving with his sobbing breaths, and holding up his weight is nearly effortless. With abrupt clarity, Onni remembers being ten years old and carrying Lalli home to his aunt and uncle's place after he got tired out and fell asleep under a bench at a feast, remembers how small he'd felt in Onni's arms even then.

There is a sudden and intense surge of protective love at the memory, and at the way it feels to have Lalli crying against his shoulder, an emotion so vivid and overwhelming it almost hurts. There is nothing that Onni wouldn't do to make sure Lalli stays safe. This boy crying in his arms is all he has left in the world, he would die to keep him safe, to keep him from meeting the same fate as Tuuri.

Onni closes his eyes, one arm around Lalli's waist to support his weight, the other lifting so he can sink his fingers into his cousin's hair and stroke it, careful and gentle. After a moment, he starts humming softly, a childhood lullaby passed down from their fathers, familiar and hopefully comforting.

It's all he can do - try to make Lalli feel as safe and comforted as he can while he gets this out, while he processes some of his grief and horror at what he'd had to live through. To try to be the solid thing that Lalli can anchor himself against when the pain feels like it's going to wash him away.]

[Maybe they're both lost in the same memory, but after a few minutes of wracking sobs Lalli quiets and lets himself drift in the harbor of Onni's arms. They never do this. Between the both of them has always been a kind of fence; Tuuri was the physical one, the connection between them. Both of them are exploring foreign territory.

Eventually he falls into something like a doze, lulled by Onni's humming, only broken by the ache in his knees forcing him to take his own weight again. He has to push away, scrubbing his face and feeling awkward. He's never liked the feeling of something on his skin, and being covered in his own tears and snot is no different.

Despite the fact that Onni has just held him without judgment for minutes, Lalli's shoulders hunch as he stares at his feet, just daring Onni to say something.]

[It's a relief when Lalli's sobbing starts to subside, and he just stays quiet, leaning against him and allowing himself to be held. Onni isn't completely sure why Lalli is allowing this, accepting any of it, whether it's the scale of the awful thing he's crying about or being exhausted or even feeling trapped. The thought that he might have trapped Lalli here is awful, but he knows how Lalli behaves when he's trapped, and this isn't it. But this also isn't how they usually interact, it's different than their usual dynamic, and Onni is as much at sea as Lalli.

The humming seems to be helping to calm Lalli, though, and so he keeps doing it, and keeps supporting Lalli's weight, and keeps touching his hair carefully until he settles and just rests against him with his head on his shoulder, cheek pressed against the wet spot left on Onni's shirt by tears and snot and sweat and all the other awful things that come with ugly crying. When Lalli pushes away, Onni lets him go without protest, and watches as his cousin scrubs at his face with his hand; when Lalli drops his head and stares at his feet with his shoulders hunched self-protectively, Onni sighs and turns and picks up one of the cloths Reynir had brought in earlier. He opens a water bottle that's sitting on his bedside table and pours some of the cool water into the cloth, walks over to Lalli silently and offers it in the line of his peripheral vision so he can take it if he wants.]

[Lalli is silent on the ground for the entirety of Onni's activity. He leans away from Onni when he offers the cloth, but he does take it and wordlessly wipes his face off.

The moment they'd shared was... weird, and Lalli isn't sure what he feels about it, only that he doesn't feel better. He never feels better the rare times he cries--and he can never be quiet with it like Onni can, it's always an explosive mess--only hollowed out and brittle. Tired. It's another reason he hates doing it.

And now that he's not overwhelmed to the point of not caring, he's only too aware that it's Onni who was witness to this, and who was largely the cause of it to begin with. It's not resentment, exactly, but it is a neighbor.

It's minutes he spends sitting there, looking at his own hands. Onni might be forgiven for thinking that's the end of it, but Lalli's mouth isn't done betraying him yet, so the words slip out before he can stop them, almost too quiet even for him to hear.]

Why didn't you take me with you?

[As difficult as it is for Lalli to stomach crying in front of him, to Onni it doesn't register as anything bad. Not when it's done here, in safety, with family. He hides his own tears from Lalli and had hid them from Tuuri because he was the guardian, the one who had to be a solid foundation for the younger ones, to protect them. It wasn't alright for him to be emotional, but he'd always been alright with Tuuri and Lalli expressing themselves like this, as long as it wasn't putting themselves or anyone else in danger, as long as it wasn't stopping them from doing their jobs.

Right now, though, it isn't just acceptance. Right now, after what Lalli had admitted to him earlier, it's beyond acceptance. He's relieved that Lalli cried, incredibly relieved. And at the same time, he's almost painfully guilty for feeling relieved to see an emotional response from his cousin that's closer to what he'd expect from anyone else. It's wrong, because Lalli has always been different and Onni loves him exactly the way he is. Seeing him cry doesn't make him better, it's just...familiar. Easier to react to.

That's what's on his mind when Lalli finally asks in that soft voice barely above a whisper why he hadn't taken him with him when he went back to Saimaa, and so he feels an intense spike of anxious guilt. For a moment, he stands still, fidgeting, and then he sighs and sinks down to sit cross-legged on the floor facing his cousin. He keeps his gaze down, avoiding eye contact, and then speaks carefully.]

I wanted you to stay safe.

[Immediately, his shoulders raise sullenly.

This is Onni's problem. He thinks if he just smothers everyone around him then nothing bad will happen, that everyone can just stay in their rut and love that way. That's not how life works. Bad things happen regardless of preparedness. The only thing to do is react as best you can, but Onni can never do that, he can only worry and I-told-you-so. Onni has stayed in Keuruu since they got there, and Lalli has gone out every night. Lalli can take care of himself.

But that isn't even why he's angry.]

You lied to me.

[He'd already said that, when they first met again, but the sting hasn't lessened at all.]

You could have just told me. Why didn't you tell me?

[His voice is louder now; there's more accusation in it. His throat is already choked with tears again. And then...]

You said it wasn't my fault. Then why...?

[It's easy to tell when Lalli gets like this, angry and sullen and resentful. Onni can't blame him, particularly not when Lalli repeats that he'd lied to him, and Onni can feel himself flinch physically away from the words. Onni has a lot of regrets in his life, but that is one of the worst of them, knowing that Lalli would eventually find out he lied and probably have that as his last memory of Onni. It stings, and he takes a deep shuddering breath, almost thankful that he's pretty much run out of tears at this point.

There are a million emotions twisting in his gut as he tries to work out how to answer, but when Lalli asks why he'd left him behind if it wasn't his fault that Tuuri had died, they're all washed away with guilt and grief.]

If I'd told you, you would have come along.

[His breath catches and he has to hold it for a moment so he can speak evenly when he continues.]

You know what the kade is, Lalli.

[By now, he's pointedly looking away from Lalli, he can't see him while he says this.]

I didn't leave you because I was angry. When I go back to that mission, I'm probably going to die. I won't have you die with me.

[His voice is more firm when he says that, but he still can't bring himself to look at Lalli.]

[It's a good thing Onni isn't looking at him, because Lalli's face immediately snaps up with an expression of horror.

He'd gone over Onni's potential reasons so many times, but somehow it had never occurred to him that--]

You can't die!

[It takes him a moment to realize he's the one shouting, and in the next he's fisting his hands into his hair and pulling, desperate for any sensation that will distract him, anchor him, keep him from feeling this horrible drowning feeling.]

You can't--you--

[Is he speaking or hyperventilating? He doesn't know anymore. His throat doesn't work.]

What am I supposed to do if--if you--I'll be--

[He'd be all alone. How could Onni do this to him? How could he think this was better for Lalli?]

[When Lalli shouts at him, he flinches again, his brows furrowing and his nose wrinkling at the bridge in an expression of pain, and his hands start squeezing where they rest on his knees. His body is held tense with anxiety, enough tension that he's trembling slightly.]

I don't want to. I'm not trying to. But it's a strong possibility.

[His voice is monotonous, mechanical with his tension, and he keeps his gaze down, his shoulders hunching a little with what...shame? Guilt? Fear? He doesn't even know, can't identify the feeling that twists up in him as Lalli shouts and pulls his hair and hyperventilates and stutters over his words. His ears are ringing, and he lifts his head to look over at his cousin.

He doesn't make any move to offer any comfort, because in this situation he has no right to.]

I thought...I know you can take care of yourself. You had a friend who would look out for you.

[A friend who could probably understand Lalli better than Onni himself can. He'd never seen Lalli follow after someone the way he'd chased after Emil. Lalli had been out in the Silent World for so long without him, he'd seemed to do so well, and Onni hadn't realized...]

I didn't think you needed me.

[It's painful to say it, to put it into words. No one really wants to not be needed, he thinks, but it had felt so true.]

And if I can take it out, it won't be chasing you anymore.

[He's crying again, and he hates it.]

Emil--he's--he isn't family.

[He doesn't know how to make it more clear. The difference is so obvious he doesn't even know how to articulate it.]

None of that matters. If you died I would be the only one left.

[And that really is the crux of it. Lalli may be antisocial, but he's never truly been alone, without guidance, in his entire life. And Emil, ultimately, is someone he's only known for a few months.

He doesn't say anything more. If the problem with that isn't obvious, then maybe Onni cares about him even less than he thought.]

[It's becoming more and more clear that he's misunderstood something about his relationship with Lalli, misunderstood something about how Lalli sees him. The truth is, Lalli had always been so independent, had stood apart so much.]

I'm sorry.

[It's soft, breathed out, but he keeps looking over at Lalli, at the shape of his body and the way there are tears rolling down his face again. He avoids any chance of eye contact, though, or he's going to be crying again himself. He doesn't deserve to cry right now, this isn't about him.]

I didn't want to leave you. I just can't lose you too, Lalli.

[Anger flares.

Lalli thinks he might hate Onni right now, as much as anyone can hate someone they love. He knew Onni could be dumb, but he never imagined he could be this stupid.

He steps backward until he back is at the door. He can't--he can't be here anymore, in this room. Not right now.]

Then you shouldn't have lied.

[Onni's head jerks as he pulls his eyes away from Lalli, stares forward, grits his teeth and clenches his jaw, his nose wrinkling as he struggles not to cry again, eyes burning and vision swimming with tears.

'I would rather he hated me than died. I would rather he hated me than died. I would rather he hated me than died...'

He has to keep repeating it in his head like a mantra to fight against the overwhelming emotion that feels like it's going to wash him away. His fingers are squeezed so tightly into his knees that he knows he's going to have bruises later.]

I won't do it again.

[It's tense, his voice is tight and shaky, but he means it. Lifting his head, he looks back up at Lalli, watching him edge back toward the door, knowing he's planning to bolt again. It's even worse now than it had been earlier. He feels completely empty inside.]

Please give me a chance to prove it.

[He doesn't actually leave. He doesn't want to, now that his back is against the door. Outside isn't where he wants to go. He wants to go home, but he can't. He's... tired. He wants to curl up into a hole and never come out.]

Which one?

[The lying, or the leaving Lalli alone, without a thought to what that would do to him?

Honestly, he's not sure he wants to know the answer, so he doesn't give Onni a chance.]

I'm going to bed.

[Lalli asks him a question, but before he even gets his mouth open to answer, his cousin is continuing on, saying he's going to bed. Onni lifts a hand and rubs it over his face - he's barely keeping it together at this point, his throat is tight, his gut is like a ball of ice. But Lalli hasn't left, not quite yet, so he speaks with his voice hoarse with emotion.]

I won't lie and I won't leave you.

[Right now, he feels hollowed out and empty in a way he hasn't in a long time. Lalli is all he has left, and he doesn't know, right now, how badly he's damaged it and whether he's lost Lalli now just by being stupid and in his own head.]

[For a moment, he just stands there in silence, still resolutely staring at the ground. Maybe he's considering whether or not to respond, or how. Even he doesn't know.

All he knows is that Onni's words are just that--a promise that he can't trust anymore, now that he knows Onni is capable of lying.

Onni has said he won't do it again, and that he's willing to prove it. Lalli, then, will believe it once he has, and no sooner.

So all he does is response is stalk past Onni without a word. If he's needed, he'll be hunkering under his bed for, like, three straight days.]

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[open] nobody knows it but me when i slip

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