#second disclaimer: I know they won't have codeine 100 000 years in the future but having grand say 'space codeine' would sound really stupid

[garden-ghoul]

gurguliare replied to your post: gurguliare: garden-ghoul replied to your post …

but yes no one’s pov on grand in this is meant to be uh. completely representative. also i want to see the inverse of this it sounds much better

currently quite badly written bc I wrote this at like 11:30 last night. LET’S SEE WHAT I CAN DO.

“Can you chill out?” mumbles Grand from the corner where he’s slumped under his jacket in an uncomfortable plastic chair. “You’re making it hard to sleep.”

“Grand, I love you, but shut up. My brother is dying.”

“He’ll be fine. He walked in here.”

Yeah, okay, but counterpoint: ever since they left the Tides of Harmony one thing or another is constantly getting in between Echo and their brother.  Independence, Volition, his own stupidity, fucking Advent! And now the door to the medical office.

A hand lands on their elbow and they throw their weight into an attack that kind of blurs and then ends with them blinking dazedly at the floor. Grand is holding them up around their middle. His hands are sweaty, or possibly tar-y. “Okay, I kind of walked into that one. But seriously, I’ve never met anyone who can have this little chill on the kind of painkillers you’re on.”

“Why am I looking at the floor?”

Grand sighs. “I was going to make you sit down and you tried to break my nose. You’re frighteningly good at that even when you’re high on codeine.” He sets them upright again (augh it is tar) and steers them over to the row of chairs, which Echo briefly thinks are people. The transition from sitting on top of a plasticky white person to sitting in a chair is awkward, but after that it’s not too hard to pick insistently at the cuff of their jacket while staring intently at the door.

Grand nudges them in the arm and the cuff of the jacket falls out of their mouth. “What?”

“Look, something incredibly distracting.”

It is. It’s Overture, sketched in light and in miniature on the floor in front of them. It dances in a way that’s half-familiar, like one of them isn’t remembering correctly how the Reverie forms are supposed to go--and right now it’s not necessarily Grand. Then it pulls out three swords, one from its back and one from each hip. It’s not very good with them. If Echo had three arms they would own at sword dancing, but Grand doesn’t know shit about it. “You don’t know shit about sword dancing. If I had three arms...”

Overture fades away as Grand constructs a light-Echo and kind of... explodes them. In the sense of an exploded model. Human bodies aren’t supposed to do that? Grand seems to be trying to design an anchor platform for an extra arm. How does he know what shape all of Echo’s bones are? What the fuck?

Grand is talking but Echo doesn’t care even more than usual because there’s a noise behind the door. Echo sits up way too fast and then jumps to their feet. Then they double over, and then they regret doubling over because that actually makes it hurt worse. When the door opens they’re kind of slumped back against the wall above the chair trying to clutch their side without touching it.

“Echo,” says Ballad. “Did you do something stupid in the twenty minutes I wasn’t watching you?”

“G-d! You’re one to talk. Get over here. How are you feeling?”

“Hhhhehhh,” says Ballad, a kind of noncommittal sigh. He unsteadily offers his own shoulder for Echo to lean on so they can stand up again. “You didn’t do that much damage.”

“Stop trying to be cool about it. You’re the worst. But you’ve still got some dirty tricks, huh?” They gesture to their injured side where they probably just popped two stitches and started bleeding into their bandages again. Bandages are supposed to go under clothes but Echo will die before they wear a full-length shirt so their jacket keeps flapping out and startling them with the white gauze creeping down their abdomen.

But Ballad just looks at them tiredly, and they think, shit I messed up. Shit, I’m such an idiot when I’m high on painkillers, almost as much of an idiot as when I’m not high on painkillers.

“Ballad, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m sorry for but you look like I should be sorry. Wait, I’m more fucking contrary than that. I’m sorry you suck so much.”

Ballad laughs and tips his head back and runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah, me too, kind of. Don’t be sorry. Just be here.” He holds out his arm and after a minute Echo gets that they’re supposed to take it and walk with him. They don’t know where he’s leading them but whatever. That’s his arm, solid and warm and kind of scratchy because of the gauze. “I wish you’d never left the Tides, Echo.”

“I didn’t exactly have a choice.”

“I know. I keep thinking about how it could have gone. If…”

“What, if you’d gotten to me first? You imagining us in matching–in fucking white coats stealing shit from the Qui Err together? I’d never have joined Advent.”

He gives them a Look. “Don’t be an idiot. You weren’t there. All of this and you still don’t understand why I did it. You think I do things for no reason? You think I do shit just to make you mad? I did that when I was twelve. I thought it was funny when you got angry and cried because I hid your practice sword or some stupid shit. I’m not twelve any more. We all just make the best decision we can see.”

“The thing about staying with Advent is that’s a decision you kept making.”

“Can we not do this, Echo?” Their mouth snaps shut on a retort, and they bite their cheek angrily. “We’re on the same side now. If you want to talk shit about Advent, let’s plan to get everyone else out, all right? But don’t kick up dust and then yell at me for making you cough.”

Echo kind of hates him in that moment for being two years older and for making that so much time. For making them feel like a dumb little kid again who has to have it explained why Dad is angry they broke the rules.

“Let’s find something to eat, okay? We’re both assholes when our blood sugar is low and the last thing I want to do right now is argue with you.”

Echo doesn’t take his peace offering, but neither do they push it away. They glare down the corridor at a couple of Qui Err who are talking a ways away.

“Do you have your own place? Maybe we can make chili.” Echo shrugs. Weirdly they’re not feeling the pretend-it-never-happened thing. He tries again. “Or we could go have lunch with Grand. Dinner. Whatever time of day it is. It’d be a nice way to thank him.”

“For what, exactly?” Someone behind them starts talking so they raise their voice. “Pulling a dumb stunt that coincidentally resulted in us duelling almost to the death? I mean,” they add when he starts giving him The Look again, “I’m fine having lunch with him. I don’t care. But he didn’t really do anything.”

“Echo…”

“I know I’m pissy right now, okay? I’m just having kind of a hard time figuring everything out. G-d, five hours ago I thought I was gonna have to kill you. And now you’re trying to set up a lunch date with Grand Magnificent. I have no fucking clue what’s going on.”

“No, I mean Grand has been walking with us this whole time. Sorry, Grand, I just noticed you. Hey.”

“Hey, Ballad. Lunch sounds great.”

Echo throws their hands into the air. Now Grand Magnificent can be invisible! Maybe he has that power whenever Echo’s brain is messed up. “Okay, I’m probably starving, I guess. Let’s go to fucking... what’s that place called? Applebees?”

“You’re the local,” says Grand.

It’s called The Wasp in the Fig, but whatever. There’s beer, which Grand forbids both of them from having and they get to combine their glares against him. There’s crunchy greasy food. There’s meat. Echo finally stops feeling cold, which is good because half an hour in someone recognizes Grand and Echo has to do their best to explain why this isn’t a security breach and it’s okay that he’s here and you really, really don’t need to call anyone. They leave a 100% tip and drag Grand out, and end up getting dragged out by Grand because ow.

And then they have to see like five people about finding Grand a place to sleep and then they have to show him where it is and by the time they and Ballad get back to Echo’s place Echo is really excited to crack open the bottle of painkillers Doctor Pelagic gave them. 

They lie on the couch with one arm over their eyes, and Ballad sits with his back leaned against the frame, tipping his head to rest on Echo’s ribs. “You did good, tiger,” he says.

“Don’t call me that,” Echo mumbles at the ceiling.

“Big brother privilege.”

“W’ll make chili t’morrow,” Echo sighs. Their free hand falls to Ballad’s shoulder and he squeezes it, and he doesn’t let go.

#disclaimer: I have only been on nontopical painkillers like once in my life and I don't know what it's like #second disclaimer: I know they won't have codeine 100 000 years in the future but having grand say 'space codeine' would sound really stupid #bros before art hoes #mirage blog #fiction