talcott hester (cactuars) wrote in valloic, @ 2023-05-19 11:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, the raven cycle: matthew lynch, ₴ inactive: talcott hester |
“I think that one is supposed to be the peacock?” Squinting at the dark sky above, Matthew mapped a path across a line of stars with his finger. “See that triangle is the head–no, wait, the tail? No, definitely the head, I think, and then there you go north and that diamond shaped looking bit is the tail.” Charting out the constellations in Vallo wasn’t easy, simply because of the fact that some of the stars simply weren’t the same, which made it hard to use one to find another one. The sky, much like the rest of Vallo, didn’t seem to play by any rules. It was still really pretty, Matthew thought, a seemingly endless expanse, even though somehow logically it had to end somehow, because no one could get up higher than a certain altitude.
And besides that, it was a nice night out and warm enough to hear the occasional cricket, but with a bit of chill in the air to warrant the pile of blankets Matthew had absconded from his house mostly to serve as cushioning against the back of the truck but also just in case the temperature dipped below ‘occasional brisk breeze’. Spring before it turned fully into summer, a time of transition. They also didn’t have to go very far in Vallo to get the full effect of the sky, outside of the city proper to miss the lights and sounds but not so deep into forest to worry about the things that could go bump in the night.
He reached above and back, fingertips touching the edge of the truck because it turned out Betty’s bed wasn’t actually that big with himself, Talcott, the pile of blankets, a few pillows, and snacks (a LOT of snacks), but eh. Matthew had to sit up a little to glance at what he’d actually grabbed before offering each bag up for Talcott’s examination. “Your turn to find something up there. And it looks like your snack roulette choices are strawberry shortcake flavored pretzels, or the honey habanero chips. Not too bad! I wouldn’t put them together, but individually, two solid picks.”
Taclott had gone through a whole host of phases when it came to the nights in Vallo since he'd shown up over a year ago. From finding a weird comfort in the darkness of it those first weeks when day still felt too bright and too much. To finding himself, once he got used to sunlight again, wary of every sunset and worried that might be it and they'd be back into a never ending darkness. And now, there was enjoyment in it. The night skies in Vallo bright in their own way with a million glittering stars, something he hadn't seen for so long. The miasma in the air back home having made it impossible for the star light to filter through, the night skies a constant murky and polluted state.
So driving a little out of the city with Matthew, away from the bright lights, to check out the night sky was an easy sell. Loading up the back of Betty with a ridiculous amount of blankets and snacks? Even easier.
He followed Matthew's finger as it traced the shape, lips pressed together in thought as it took his eyes a few moments to find the shape Matthew had. "Yeah, I can see it," he replied as he titled his head a little and the shape came into form. "Maybe there's a matching one with their tail out."
Talcott started to look for it for a moment as Matthew rummaged around for snacks, his attention going to the bags when held out to him though. His nose wrinkled a little at the idea of the two conflicting flavors together. "Yeeeeah probably not the best combo," a pause and reached for the pretzels. "I could go for some fake strawberry flavoring." He didn't open it quite yet though and leaned back to point back up at the sky.
"Okay… sticking with the animal theme - that's definitely a cat," he said as he traced out the shape. "Ears.. head, whiskers, eyes.."
A grin broke out on Matthew’s face the way it tended to whenever anyone went along with his requests. Like he was so genuinely pleased, and like right here, right now, was the exact place and moment he wanted to be “And see that one to the left?” He pointed out a star and traced a line. “Totally could be a curved tail. Or, as curved as stars can get, at least.”
Matthew was satisfied with the chips–and, truth be told, if he wasn’t, there were obviously others to pick from because when Matthew was in charge of the snacks, he came out in force. There was a thermos of hot chocolate too, which was maybe slightly out of season but felt thematically appropriate. But he didn’t tear into them, content to keep looking up. “Our dad really liked telling stories, and he was really good at it, but he always told stories that had like, these tricks? They’re called geas in Gaelic. Things that had stipulations, right? Or something that seemed good but then something else happens and then you realize it’s actually a bad thing.”
He remembered Niall Lynch, who could spin a story out of air and turn it into a vivid tableau in front of his three sons who hung on to his every word, even Declan. But Matthew also remembered feeling–uncomfortable? Unsure? Because every ending felt like a moral or a puzzle that Matthew just didn’t get. Time and distance had given Matthew a slightly better picture of his dad and the complicated man he had been, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever fully understand.
“Our mom though, like, all of her stories had happy endings. The heroes went through things and struggled, but they always had help, things always worked out. And there were usually three brothers,” he said, smiling wryly, and as he did, Matthew pointed out a cluster of three stars. “Like that one is technically Orion’s Belt, it’s a real constellation where we’re from, but my mom would always call it the three brothers, and her story about that one was about three brothers who went on a quest in three different directions, but who came together at the end and lived happily ever after.”
It was pretty easy to go along with Matthew's requests. Or at least it was for Talcott. Of course it helped that Matthew's ideas were easy to go along with, always involving fun things and good food - but it was more than that too. Something about Matthew that made Talcott ready and willing to go along with most anything, and now finding himself feeling - for the first time - like a vaguely normal kid in his late teens. Like he had the life now that maybe he would have had without all the bad stuff back home.
He settled back against blankets and pillows as he listened to Matthew talk about his parents and the stories they told.
"So like… asking for and getting silence but silence because you ended up deaf kind of things?" he asked. It was a common thread he'd started to realize as he studied other histories and stories from other places. The idea that one should be careful what they wish for or ask for, and who they asked it of.
Talcott's eyes looked to the constellation Matthew pointed out and he smiled softly. "I like your mom's version," he said. "Sounds like maybe it was more her hopes for you and your brothers than a story. That you'd always find each other again, no matter how far you end up.”
Matthew’s hand reached out (though, admittedly, he didn’t need to go that far) to rest above Talcott’s and squeeze, once. He felt things intensely, and Matthew had never shied away from expressing how he felt when it came to the positive emotions like joy and affection and excitement. Sometimes, however, the more complicated emotions took him by surprise: this combination of missing his family mixed with a sudden clarity of how his parents showed their love. Niall had wanted his sons to be more clever than anyone and to understand the dangers that the world had for them, Aurora wanted them to be loved.
Matthew wanted a moment just to breathe, his gaze focused on the three stars while he let the sentiment settle over him and he could really think it over. Later, in the morning, or further in the week, he’d ask Ronan what he thought, and maybe another piece of their parents would slot in with the rest.
“Yeah,” he said, softly, after a minute. “It’s like that.” And it was nice, being understood, being known, not having to say more because the other person simply got it. Comfortable, his brain supplied. Which, duh, it was Talcott, who was basically Matthew’s best friend, but. Still. “What about your parents–you don’t have to, if you don’t want to, obviously, I was just curious. Or, your grandpa? Again, you don’t have to,” he knew that subject was still tender, even years later. “But, if you wanted?”
Talcott turned his hand under Matthew's and threaded his fingers between Matthew's. There wasn't much thought given to the move, just that it felt like the thing to do right then. And as Matthew turned the conversation to Talcott's family he gave his hand a little squeeze to - as though to say the shift in conversation was okay.
"I don't really remember much of my mom and dad," Talcott said after a moment. More vague feelings that would wash over him. Or a smell that would find in him a wave of nostalgia he couldn't quite place. "Grandpa used to tell me stories about them, how dad would always go ridiculously fast with the wagon rides, that mom would always read me the Cosmogony picture book." He paused for a moment. "I remember Grandpa more though, all the stories he'd tell. Hidden weapons like swords behind waterfalls and other legends about the world."
It was hard still sometimes to talk about, the familiar guilt gnawing in the pit of his stomach. Having to remind himself again that what happened wasn't his fault
"He had the craziest stories that I'm pretty sure got crazier when he told them to me," he added with a warm smile, thinking back to the embellishments his grandpa was prone to throwing in.
“In my memories, it seems like Ronan and I had a lot of adventures together, but Declan usually didn’t. He never really…” Matthew trailed off, shrugging. Declan was another one that Matthew held complicated feelings for. He loved Declan, he tried to understand all of the weight and stress that Declan had carried for so long all by himself, and yet Matthew could never shake the betrayal that came from Declan ripping the sweetmetal that kept Matthew awake off of him, and putting it back on Matthew when it was convenient for Declan for Matthew to be awake.
It was also hard to come to terms with not ever seeing Niall or Declan Lynch again. Matthew felt more prepared and armed to have those harder conversations, and yet, it may not ever happen. He didn’t want to be sad now–but, he wasn’t sad, actually. More like, reflective, instead. There was something about the night, the sky so vast, the quiet around them, Talcott’s hand in his own, that made it all feel safe and grounding.
“Okay, but now I totally need to know if you were the type of kid who believed it and wanted to go find those swords because I absolutely was that kid who believed in everything,” Matthew admitted, as the grin returned to his face. A complete and total shocker, that fact.
Talcott just gave Matthew's hand another squeeze when he brought up Declan. Taclott wouldn't claim to know even close to the whole story there but the Lynch sibling Vallo hadn't seen fit to bring through yet seemed to be a sore spot in general. Talcott's family had been more of the found variety, but he'd long since picked up that the ones you were born into tended to be various shades of complicated. Though he supposed the same could be said about his own cobbled together one. Even if you loved someone, it didn't always mean you liked them all the time.
He laughed a little at Matthew's question. "Well.. .that one actually was true," he said. "The Old Kings of Lucis were buried in different places with their weapons. A hundred and thirteen in total but only the location of thirteen were known in my time. Even then some were kind of dicey descriptions as to where."
Talcott glanced at Matthew and gave him a grin. "But I was also the kid who believed in everything. Mostly because I wanted all the crazy stories to be true, and be true in really fantastical ways instead of finding out the only truth in the tales were just mundane things made crazy over the years." A brief pause. "It was about half and half in the end for most of it." Eos had its fair share of fantastical, but also exaggerations were known to be a thing.
“That’s so cool,” Matthew breathed out. Living in Vallo it seemed like there was always someone with an almost unbelievable story. Matthew’s own involved dreams coming to life (he was one of them, after all), dead Welsh kings, ghosts, and magical forests. But somehow other people’s stories never failed to amaze him, even years later. “That’s something Gansey would love, trying to find all of them, mapping them out. Adam and Ronan would be there too.” Matthew, unsurprisingly, was more of a ‘go along for a good time’ type. There for support and snacks, but actual help, well. Maybe not so much.
Even though it was dark and likely the gesture would go missing, Matthew squinted his eyes as if evaluating Talcott, smiling back at him. “I’m sort of surprised by that! You always seem like you want to evaluate everything before coming to any conclusions. Which isn’t bad! It’s a good thing. Matthew paused again, his head going from side to side as he chose his words. He leaned over and nudged Talcott’s shoulder–not that, again, there was very far to go, they were practically arm to arm anyway.
“I believe you, not just because you’re my friend, but because when you say something, I know you looked at everything and you’ve thought about it.”
"They should ask Noctis and them about it sometime, they had to go track down all of the known Royal Arms," Talcott suggested. A feat in itself with how far they'd all gotten scattered.
Talcott shrugged a little. "I was a little easier to believe in stuff when I was kid?" he offered. "Before everything got all crazy." Before they were all forced to grow up way quicker than they should have. "But I was always a little bit of a serious kid, or at least that's what everyone said, and it just sort of got more from there."
He let his gaze settle back up at the stars above them. "It's easier to remember to get out of my own head and let go a little here though," a pause. "Especially with you," was added and he gave Matthew a little shoulder nudge of his own.
"In your head is a good place to be. It's a good head,” Matthew said, his free hand coming up and over to ruffle Talcott’s hair. “I like that you think about things. Especially because I don’t always do that.” The snorted laugh that followed Matthew’s comment demonstrated his ease with himself, rather than any sort of self-deprecation. Matthew was trying to be better about not taking everything at face value, thinking deeply about things, and formulating his own opinion. But for Matthew Lynch, his heart would always be his guide, for better or worse.
“But Tal, it’s okay to dream a little. I want that for you. And if you ever get stuck though, you have to let me help. Even if you think it sounds stupid or something, it doesn’t. Not to me,” he promised. He went quiet again, the sort of quiet that came from being content. Content with the expansive sky above, content with the faint chill in the air, content with the noise of an occasional bird or frog or nearby creature breaking the silence. Content to just lay back with his friend and point out shapes in the stars, some more clever and clearer than others. “I mean, I can think of at least three ideas off the top of my head, so, you know I’m good for it.”
Knowing he could, Talcott crept even more into Matthew's space, pressing into his side. "Only three?" he asked with a teasing tone.
"I want that for you too, Matthew," he added after a moment, a little bit more serious. "I know you have big ideas and big dreams," he clarified. Matthew always had some idea, some plot, and it was great. Talcott loved it and was more than happy to go along with all of them whenever they struck. But most of those big ideas and plots tended to be things that made other people happy, or involved other people - not that he thought they didn't make Matthew happy too. "But stuff for you, you know? Just you. You deserve all the good things you give to other people too," he added.
"Frog?" he asked after, finger pointing up at another set of stars.
“Off the top of my head!" Matthew insisted, laughing. “Give me like, five more minutes to actually think about it and I’m sure I could come up with a list that will make your head spin."
He squeezed Talcott’s hand once more in the same sign of recognition as before. That he heard the words and appreciated them, that they struck something in him that Matthew knew he should reflect on, but…didn’t know what it was, exactly. But something, the images or words or whatever it was a little too blurry to make out right now. He’d think about it later.
"Frog," he agreed, and traced out a pattern in the sky. "Mountains."