Post Plot Drop Two: Mercuralia - Blog Posts
wadecalhoun:
“They’re not my damned friends,” the clarification hardly matters but Wade has always garnered this petulant ire that is so easily provoked, nostrils flaring as though Robin had publicly humiliated in someway. She hadn’t, of course, and Wade is trying to swallow down this ire that is clashing with his worry; Robin is so clearly alive but their friendship had been forever marred by what transpired, a pivotal point that he was uncertain they could mend. “You’ve not a clue what you’re talking about,” his voice is struck with this wretched timbre, almost miserable as to relive the betrayal once more. Wade would give anything to take it back, but now they had to simply overcome it; if at all possible. “You can go off into different worlds and realms, I do somethin’ they don’t like, it’s clipped for me.” There’s this pleading tone that interjects the pitiful ire that once rang forth, he’s yearning for understanding that he doesn’t deserve, a silent plea. He swallows this male bravado, goes through each horrific spasm and stage of grief as he tries to submit to this apology that Robin knowingly deserves; his pride is almost insurmountable. “Robin, I’m afraid. I ain’t ever been able to admit that, not even to myself. That what you wanna hear? I’m in over my head?” it falls forth, tumbles from his mouth in a whirlwind and he attempts to level the tremors in his voice that spiral between anger and pure fear, “I made the wrong choice and I’ll be sorry all my poor mortal years.”
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“Then why did you tell them about your invitation into my home,” Robin hisses, stepping closer to her former friend, hands reaching up to grasp his shirt to pull him closer on her rage. Is the nearest to an act of violence she had offered Wade in a long time, the nearest thing to a threat since their first meeting. “No clue? The Eye killed my brother, his children and his lover, Wade. They just freed countless people they have been experimenting on. I know what they are capable off and I would have helped you if you asked you, I would have helped you like I have always done,” she confesses, voice raw at the truth spilling from her lips, at the reminder of what she had lost at the hands of the Eye. She almost confesses more, almost talks about the time she had spent trying to destroy it from the inside, but she cannot trust the coward before her. And yet —. She cannot help but understand. Who doesn’t fear the Eye? Who doesn’t fear the Leviathan that they cannot understand? “It’s a start,” she admits reluctantly. “It’s a start, but it cannot mean everything. Not when your choice could have killed the people I have sworn to protect. Not when it could have killed the children, Wade.”
She is about to say more, about to surge again in anger, when a pressure unlike any other strikes and brings them both to their knees. Nothing she does stops it, not the shields she throws above them both, nor the magic she calls with her song. It’s instinct that drives her to shield Wade, the love she holds for him even now pushing her to protect him for he is more vulnerable than she has ever been. Her friend, her betrayer. Wade is the last thing she sees before she loses consciousness.