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[He throws his head a bit, his steps becoming purposely a bit more bouncy, but not enough to actually buck Gladion off]

Wow?? I'm only like, what, two years older than you?? I'm a cook, I'm allowed to say things like that.

[Gladion must be Early Morning Delirious because he absently pats Akira's neck as if to tell the horse shh calm down.]

I live with Ingo, there's no risk of going without soup and everything.

[But that's two mentions of Ingo in under a minute, which makes it very hard to not worry about yesterday. He and the twins do well living together, but they're never going to have a nice life in Ryslig. Things like Ingo's cooking aren't to be taken for granted.

Sigh through his nose.]

Yesterday we both - got hunger. He hunted. I had something ready.

[He knickers and settles, feeling very amused with himself... until Gladion continues]

Ah. He's a manticore, right?

[It makes sense he would need to hunt, if what the phamplets said was true- like Akira himself only fresh kills would work, if for different reasons]

Edited 2023-02-17 16:27 (UTC)

Right. And Emmet's a gargoyle, turned the day before.

[Two hunters. At least Gladion wouldn't be hurting for supplies... but it has to be rough on all of them, going at the same time. Maybe it's a hormonal thing.]

How are you holding up?

Emmet hates the nocturnal schedule. And we'll be seeing less of each other because of the flipped sleeping hours. And Ingo...

[I mean what do you even say about that. What can he say that isn't something Akira, having already been through similar, knows. And he's met Ingo, so he knows a little about the kind of person he is.]

You can probably imagine.

[He lacks human facial expressions like this, but a low sadness can be heard in his 'umhm'. Because, well, he can. He still thinks about his first, even though he's fed since both as a kelpie and as a shade.]

And you?

[No escaping by talking about the bros, bro]

[Slow...inhale.

This is one of those patented Gladion overthinking silences, where he's trying to dodge around saying something ungraceful or nonsensical or emotional by repackaging it into something impersonal and actionable, but there's just not actually a way to do that.

It drags on a little bit too long. Conscious of it, he takes a hand from Akira's neck and sticks in his pocket. Silvally, in its ball, nudges at his fingers, and some of the tension in his chest loosens.

Exhale.]

...I don't know how to describe what happened.

You don't have to.

[He hadn't been able to in any detail either. Both because it was traumatizing and just because the actual method was so damn weird]

I just... I want to help if I can. You were there for me when I needed someone.

[Is there such thing as a good knife-to-the-gut feeling? It catches him in a weak spot. Absolved of something so basic as having to justify himself, Gladion reels.

(And, uh - there are car ride conversations, and then there's not being able to brush something off because you're en route to somewhere and also sitting on the person you're talking to?)

In the space of a few seconds, he flinches away bristling, flutters with hope, and creeps forward again. Physically, he swallows and goes quiet for another few seconds.]

...This time, I didn't have to - [Break. Swallow again. Voice thick:] But it was bad.

[And another pause because, wow, this is hard.]

[He 'nods' which is more of a head toss in this form, but Gladion is experienced with animal body language enough to likely pick it up. In many ways Gladion reminds him of Makoto- someone who takes on too much, who keeps their overworking thoughts to their chest, but who has tells if you know what to look for. Gladion isn't at the level of familiarity he has with Makoto, but his sensitive kelpie senses can feel the pause, the slight shift in scent. It's enough for him to follow his first instinct of not pressing directly]

Yeah. I get it. My first was... it was weird. Bad and weird. Draining... it's surreal and kinda fucked up, honestly.

[Back to staring down the gulf. So certain that there's some kind of difference between what he did and what everyone else has done, without any evidence to back that up, and wondering in a lucid moment - maybe it's just a trick he's playing on himself? If there's anything truly different about what he'd be capable of, if he lost control in the wrong place at the wrong time - how terrible would it have to be to overshadow what Emmet, or Ingo, or Akira already have done?]

Ah, it - mm. [Yeah.] It's - that's just how it is. Isn't it.

I guess so. I've fed as a kelpie and a shade now, but I'm no expert.

[he ponders if he wants to say what he thinks. If it will actually help. But it bubbles up almost without his consent]

This place... it's like a drug. She gets into you and makes it all seem okay. Or even good. And for some people accepting it and getting used to it are fine. I can't really judge them for it.

... but there's something to be said for looking at all this and just saying "no". We eat because we have to survive. But you don't have to be okay with it. You don't have to "adapt"- even if it's hopeless there's... something there in telling the Fog "fuck you" to her face.

[ something in him grieves at his own words. He's not that kind of person anymore. But gladion still could be, if he wanted to]

[Another knife, piercing straight through his fear and into a second worry: looking down this fruitless, indeterminate resistance and realizing, in a cold panic, I don't think I can do this again if I'm on my own this time.

And now Silvally is here.

As if to confirm that, or just sensing his rising stress, it jolts in his hand. Gladion tenses, sitting up a little straighter.]

No, buddy, it's fine, [he murmurs,] it's just a talk. [And he slouches again, slowly.

Breathes out. Breathes in.]

That's all I want. I just don't - I don't want to - we've all sort of, lost it when hunger hit. [Breathe.] If I have to go under, I want to know I'll come back up again.

[there's so much he could say: about Self, cognition, will. But it's far too past both their bedtimes for such heavy things. So:]

You can. And will. I have faith in you.

[God dammit Akira he's trying not to cry here. You can't do that.

He should take heart in that. It's touching. But he's still - he's scared! Scared that it won't matter what he wants or what he tries to do; scared for everyone else, Ingo and Emmet and Akira and everyone else around him who he might be able to beg but can't compel to stay grounded, to not lose themselves, to not leave. It could happen at any time.]

Alright, [he barely voices, mostly just mouths. His vines tighten for a few seconds, then go loose again.]

[maybe it's for the best that he doesn't voice his worry for others, for him specificly. He decided long before he came here that he would never someone or something drag him in again- if he was going to drown it would be because he threw himself off the bridge. And likely that is a comfort to him and him alone.

Instead:]

Wanna go fast?

[they're reaching more open ground by now, and his trot starts picking up a bit, though he Wait a for the go ahead before running.]

Give me a moment.

[A moment he takes, to get his composure back together and brace himself physically. Whoof.]

...alright. Let's go.

[Once he has the go-ahead he starts a gallop, slowly and carefully speeding up. It's still dark enough that he doesn't want to go all out, afraid of hitting a groundhog hole or something. But the physical activity is freeing- easier to stop thinking about anything else. It's not a blanket fort, but the idea comes from the same place]

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Cw: brief suicidal imagery

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