ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ (beepbeep) wrote in evaluation, @ 2020-01-16 14:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | !rooms: 4: day 2, it: chapter two: richie tozier, the raven cycle: adam parrish |
Who: Richie & Adam
What: Adam stops by to share a tale of 'why you should not scry alone'
When: Backdated to like, Day 2
Where: Room 7
Warnings: Talk of sad, dark, disturbing things (the effects of abuse, death, that sort of fun)
Status: Complete
One thing that had always been true about Adam was that there were things he never talked about until he was forced to. The first of those things was Robert Parrish. When he was younger, Adam hadn't known that there was anything that he should talk about at all. The world in their trailer was small and in it all fathers expressed disappointment with their fists and all mothers pretended they didn't see, and all boys wore an ever changing pattern of bruises and knew they should never have been born. By the time he learned otherwise he'd learned, as well, that no one cared. Everyone knew anyway, saw it written on his skin in finger shaped marks and heard it in every flimsy excuse. They wouldn't save Adam; Adam would rather save himself. And then it had been a choice between keeping his silence and seeing Ronan arrested for protecting him, and it hadn't really been a choice at all. There were other things that were because of Robert Parrish, like the way Adam only ever turned his right side to whoever was talking to him, twisting awkwardly in the passenger seats of cars and making certain to be on the leftmost side of classrooms. Adam hadn't told anyone that he couldn't hear out of his left ear since the hospital, but the nurses had told Gansey and so he'd never had to, since. The most recent thing was Persephone, and the reason Adam didn't talk about her was simple: it hurt. He knew that Maura and Calla and the rest of the women of 300 Fox Way hurt for her too. They'd given him chances to talk about it, but Persephone was the only one who had known him well enough to drag the words out of him. She was an ache that Adam held on to because it was proof that she'd existed at all, that he'd had her for even a little while. Nothing had been important enough to make him share it. Until now. Adam stood outside Richie's door, stiff and alien, ill-fitting in his own skin. If Richie wasn't there, he bargained with himself, or if he was there but not alone, he would go. He would come back later or not at all, find another way to explain to Richie why it was dangerous to scry alone. Exactly what happened if you went too far. If he wasn't there… Adam knocked on the door and hoped he'd picked a bad time. Fortunately (or unfortunately?) for Adam, he’d picked a great time. Richie was just in his room, playing a round of Mario Kart (John wasn’t into video games, which was probably why he’d vacated the premises in search of sustenance) and kicking ass with Yoshi - racing around and around and red-shelling the fuck out of his enemies were his main entertainment for now, since he’d missed the sunrise that morning, but maybe he’d catch it the next day. He kind of wanted to see it at least once - bursts of light smashing against the calming blue of the ocean, illuminating the sea with cylinders of gold. Before the air smelled like suntan lotion and people, when it was just salt on the breeze. Yeah, he’d catch it tomorrow. Maybe. The knock jolted him out of his thoughts and, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, he went to go answer. Seeing Adam there was a surprise - he thought it might be Ava or something, ready to toss him into the water, but then again she’d probably just walk through his wall so he’d piss himself with surprise. “Oh hey,” he stepped back to let Adam in. “What can I do for you, kiddo?” Sorry, when you were an old man like Richie, all teenagers were still kids. Even if they were technically of legal age. 'Kiddo' made Adam uncomfortable in a way that had nothing to do with actually minding it and everything to do with having no frame of reference to deal with it. Adults who weren't teachers were oddities in his life; the only adult man who wasn't a teacher he'd had any reason to spend time around was the man who'd murdered his boyfriend's father. "Sorry I dropped by without warning," he said, southern charm that was stiffer than the usual mask of it he used when he wasn't sure what other face to wear. "I was hoping we could talk a little more, about…" The only thing they really had to talk about. Making conversation with new people outside of the necessary or situations he'd prepared himself for didn't come easily. It meant sharing too much of yourself. Adam shrugged, gaze flickering away. "If you don't mind." Richie could make conversation with just about anyone - he was warm and friendly and had little brain to mouth filter, but it was clear that Adam wanted to talk about something specific. Or else he wouldn’t have dragged his ass down here, looking like he’d RSVPed to a costume party and no one was wearing costumes. “Yeah, sure,” he motioned toward one of the plush, comfy chairs - sitting in one was like sinking into a cloud, and he’d been in enough hotel rooms to be exposed to all sorts of uncomfortable furniture. He doubted Adam wanted to sit on one of the beds, anyway - one was still perfectly made, the other Richie shared with John and it wasn’t made. Probably never would be. Before he sunk into a chair, he asked, “You want anything to drink?” The minibars were restocked daily, so at least the juice and iced coffee wells never ran dry. It was hard to stay stiff and on the edge of your seat when you sat in something that practically swallowed you. Adam tried anyway but suspected that he only succeeded in looking ridiculous. “No, thank you. I’m fine.” He was the opposite of fine and he suspected that was clear, too. “I know that Blue and I talk about scrying like it’s something dangerous.” Nothing about this was going to be comfortable. Adam gave up on easing into it. “I wanted to explain that… I wanted to tell you about my teacher. Persephone” There was more to say. A lot more. Adam had to stop and breathe in first, something to ease a wound he’d never let heal right. Damn, okay. This was clearly serious business - and sometimes Richie could be serious. He was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for (booksmart and otherwise) and, like, he was practiced at reading the room. He could be a shit, but that was usually on purpose. It didn’t seem like now was a good time for that. “Go on,” he encouraged, since it appeared as if Adam had to get it off his chest. Scrying was one of those mysterious things that Richie still didn’t know much about - he knew what Adam showed him, of course, but when it came to the actual practice of it he felt like a doe with knobby knees learning to walk. Never in his life did he think he’d need to learn, but here they were. The things that Adam needed to tell him were all at the end of everything but it seemed wrong, somehow, to start there. To tell him about Persephone without telling him about Persephone and leave her out of her own story. Most people would never know anything at all about Persephone. To have someone only know her by her death was… she was so much more than that. She’d been so much more to Adam. “Back when everything… opened up, for me.” When he’d made his deal with a sentient forest that spoke Latin and needed a sacrifice, but that was another story completely and it wasn’t the story that Adam was telling. “I didn’t know what to do with it. It was so loud, all the time. I was never alone in my own head, and I needed to do… something, but I didn’t know how to sort everything that was happening out enough to tell what I needed to do. “Blue’s mom is psychic. I know she’s told you that. Her whole family is, and her mom’s best friends. Calla. And… Persephone. She’s the one who told me that no matter what else was happening, I still belonged to myself. She taught me how to read the cards, and how to scry. And… other things.” Not just about being psychic. About how he didn’t owe parts of himself to anyone he didn’t want to give them to. That it didn’t matter how hard he worked or pushed himself, he was always going to be more than his past even if he didn’t get into an Ivy League school and end up with enough money that he never had to see a trailer park again. Adam never got to tell her that he was going to Harvard anyway, that he’d gotten into his second choice school. He’d never get to talk to her about how, now that he was going, he wasn’t sure that he wanted to leave at all. Not if it meant leaving Ronan and Opal behind. Closing his eyes and trying to imagine what she’d tell him was never going to be good enough. “Persephone was always… she wasn’t like other people.” Adam’s eyes were fierce when he finally met Richie’s again. “It wasn’t a bad thing. It was like she was always seeing something that the rest of us couldn’t, even when she wasn’t reading or scrying with anything. She was one of the best people I’ve ever known.” She was everything he’d wished his mom could be and knew that she never would. “There was something she was looking for, one day. Something big. There were reasons she didn’t stop but—but she didn’t. She kept going further, until she was so far that she couldn’t get back to her body.” They were in paradise, as close to it as Adam had ever seen aside from the Barns, but he wished he was standing out in a storm so it would be okay if his cheeks were wet, so Richie wouldn’t notice. “And look at you, and I’ve just been talking to you. Practicing for your day in court?” Adam coughed to clear his throat, fist raising to cover his mouth; he held it there until he’d taken a deeper breath. “She found me, before she was completely gone. I guess I was the last person who talked to her, and it was already too late to fix anything. So. If we make it sound like something serious, it’s because of Persephone.” Because Adam didn’t want anyone else to have to say goodbye like that, especially if it was just a stupid, pointless mistake. Jesus. That was a damn story, laden with heartbreak and sorrow - it hadn’t happened to Richie but it wasn’t like he didn’t feel anything for Adam, didn’t commiserate with him. He knew what it was like to lose someone you cared about - it definitely changed you. It changed the heart, it changed his - like the inner pipes were coated with corrosion. Add a shard of glass in the gut and, well, you just went along with it. Got used to it. “Adam - “ He got up briefly to grab a couple of tissues, handing them over, and gently squeezed the kid’s shoulder in a show of support. He was so young too, he had his whole life again of him - it was a shame that he’d already been saddled with so much grief. But Richie knew better than most that childhood trauma, you didn’t get a choice about it. It just - happened. Like, he wished he didn’t have to kill an Eldritch horror before he was even sixteen; shit was what it was. “I promise you I won’t scry alone. And I know - how hard it is to lose someone close to you like that.” Honestly, one of his biggest fears was getting trapped in a vision - hearing that it actually happened to someone made his stomach twist. “But I think she would be proud of you. Persephone, that is. I mean, you know the dangers of scrying and yet you taught someone else to do it, for the betterment of this group, hopefully. That’s pretty damn impressive.” Adam clutched the tissues between white-knuckled fingers and reminded himself to breathe. He wouldn't, couldn't, go back and find Ronan like this. There was nothing Ronan could burn down or tear apart to make this better and Adam just… it had been hard enough to find words this first time. He couldn't do it again. Not today. "I should be doing more," he told Richie. Finding out that he still had at least part of what he'd been, before Cabeswater had sacrificed itself to remake Gansey, that should have made him want to do more. He was the Magician. He wasn't strong when there was power and weak when there wasn't, Persephone had told him, he made things magical. But it was a reminder of everything he'd lost. Everything he wasn't anymore and might never be again. Cabeswater… that was another thing he didn't talk about, how he missed it like a limb. A lung. Even after everything. Even after it had been corrupted and he'd been possessed and he'd almost killed... Adam wasn't doing anything impressive at all. He was just doing the very least he could do. The least that he owed Persephone. "The cards are safer," he said. "What you get is less specific, but there's less of a chance of losing yourself. I only have the ones Ronan made me, but I can show you that too." Back to what could be done, what needed to happen next. Adam's whole life had been an endless grinding focus on what came next, how to survive the next minute, and the one after, and what he needed to do to make sure he'd be safe someday. It was easier than thinking about the past. “You do what you can do - it’s not about ‘should,’” Richie insisted. “You do whatever you feel is right. No one would want you to burn out, doing any more than that.” He probably should take his own advice, because he too had a stubborn streak about preventing Bad Things from happening after he’d been powerless to save Eddie - but he had to realize that it didn’t just affect him, it affected other people. If he burnt out, where did that leave the others who cared for him? Same with Adam though - and he obviously had a guy who loved him, even if love was confusing and weird and all those other great gut-punching things. “John has a tarot deck, he got it in the first room,” Richie added. “He gave it to me in Canada but our possessions are always being fucked with, so, I’m not sure where it is now. But we can definitely work with cards, any deck. Maybe tomorrow?” he suggested, since Adam could probably use the rest and the more leisurely sense of obligation. They all could. If Adam could have burned out, he'd assumed it would have been when he was living in the trailer, working three jobs and trading sleep for studying so he could stay safely at the top of his class, hunting Welsh kings in the extra time he didn't have. Maybe he'd misjudged it though. Maybe the danger started when he had a chance to slow down enough to realize exactly how tired he was. Leisure was supposed to be the reward at the end of his story. Right now it seemed more like the enemy. He kept all that to himself, too. Another thing on the list of what he didn't talk about, how exhausting being himself had always been and the way he didn't know how to put it down now. "Tomorrow sounds good," Adam told him. It took a couple of tries to get himself out of the chair. "Ronan wants to do go-karts today." When he smiled, it was a genuine grin, not the polite thing he put on so that company couldn't see how damaged he was. He actually looked eighteen and alive, for once. “Sounds fun - kick his ass,” Richie encouraged, with a grin of his own. “And hey, thanks for coming by. I do appreciate it.” He realized that spilling his guts about something this important wasn’t usually Adam’s thing - so it was kind of a big deal. Overall though, Richie hoped he’d be okay. He was ‘of age’ but still just a kid, really. No matter what, Richie would keep an eye on him though - even if Adam didn’t realize, or even want such a thing. Too bad. This teenage psychic would have at least one person looking out for him during this crazy adventure. |