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Ahhh, the afterbattle glow. Vorpal is perfectly delighted with how everything went, and nevermind the time and effort it took to separate the claws and fangs and pelt from the massive Thing they fought out where the air got salty and the ground started to get sandy. Teagan's okay, everyone did great, and she's just on top of the world, lounging about in Downtime, sipping on something they got out of the icebox and eating a Crowson Frozen Dinner. Obviously there's never been a Crowson frozen foods company, but she's eating one anyway, having started with the brownie before moving on to the beans and franks. Little comfort food from way back when, before frozen foods were seen as junky.
Teagan is in the shower right now, scrubbing the blood out of their hair and being quieter than usual. They've been -- not as exuberant as they normally are when they've had a good kill, just, kind of kept to themself. The Mirrorskin finishes lathering up their hair, rinses the last of the gunk out of it, and then proceeds to scrub Baby carefully. Once the machete is also clean -- or as clean as it ever gets -- both parties get dried off, and the Mirrorskin wanders over to pick out new clothes, setting them aside as they sit down to oil the blade and hang it up carefully. All of this in silence. They end up forgoing clothing and hanging up the towel, coming to flop down in the common sleeping area, pulling a blanket over themself. "You did good today," they offer.
"Aw, thanks~! I thought everyone did pretty much baller. We worked well together." Johnnie croons between bites of old-fashioned processed food. "I used to love these things. My parents wanted my nanny to cook every meal, but they were out so often, and it's not like they looked in the freezer or the trash. She kept a few on hand. All beef franks, and none of the mac and cheese sides, either, just to make sure my parents would have as little to be mad about as possible if they found it." She finishes it off and heads to the pillows, barefoot herself, after disposing of the tray.
As she flops down next to Teagan, her eyeshines sparkle. "Did I do something particularly well, or just general "good job, Johnnie" to...day?" It sort of catches up to her that Teagan's not quite acting normal, and she frowns faintly, trying to puzzle out what's wrong for herself before she asks out loud.
They listen to Johnnie talk, and curl up alongside her, blanket pulled up over them. "It's not you, and I like listening to your stories," Teagan offers as soon as her speech breaks up. "I've just got a lot on my mind, and it's even... I mean it's ... "
"I went into Sturm's dreams last night, for the second time, and it was -- I still have to talk to Sigrun about it." Something that is overshadowing a post-combat debrief? Oh dear. "I'm not even sure how to start." They curl up alongside Johnnie and wrap an arm around her waist, as if she's the bigger one of the two of them.
"Okay. That's relieving." Always good to set the ex-Goddess's mind at ease when it comes to "what's wrong tonight."
"Sturm's dreams, eh?" No, Johnnie, skip the jokes. Wrong time, wrong place. Talk about how Teagan got into Sturm later. When they can laugh about it. "Talk to Sig about it? I mean, like. Does she know you were planning to? Or is it a contents and not context that needs discussed?" An arm settles over the draping limb, stroking idly.
Not only is it not Johnnie's fault and they are not upset with her: Teagan's clinging to the Helldiver. Hope her plans for the evening were centered around 'being Teagan's pillow/teddy bear'.
"Yes, Johnnie, and the sex joke is heard but like don't make it, I know it's in your brain. I cannot have sex with Sturm even though I really really want to because it would ruin everything right now." They hug on to the skinny Elemental tightly. "She knows, and she had... an idea... of what I was gonna see."
"We have to talk about the fact that I saw the thing she was kind of dreading. It fucks up her image of herself real bad. And honestly I think it kind of fucks up Sturm's image of herself, too."
Cling to one Johnnie and win yourself the embrace of seven Johnnies. The shadows curl in, just to reinforce things. 'You're here. I'm thinking about you. I'm actively trying to make you comfortable and safe. I got you, babe.' That's what it's meant to communicate, wordlessly.
"I wasn't gooooooooonnaaaaaaaaaaa," whines Johnnie like a surly teen. She does, politely, leave the "gawsh" off the end. "I know. Wasn't that long ago I had my own tangly mess. You have my sympathies. And that's good. That she knows, I mean." Cuz Johnnie is shit when it comes to coming clean politely.
"It- does? How does it fuck up things worse than before? Wasn't she convinced she abandoned Sturm? How the hell does it get worse from that point?"
They're ensconced in the attention that Johnnie's giving them, curled up small and close to the Elemental, just drowning in the safety and security that the Wyrd-laden Helldiver represents for them. Motley, hearth, home. If anything comes near Teagan, rest assured: Johnnie will make it dead rather than let it hurt them in any real way, and they know it.
"Because now we know for sure," Teagan says very quietly, "that Sturm and Sigrun didn't just accidentally escape together. That they planned it together. That they were on the same side. That Sigrun had an ally in Valhalla, and it was Sturm... "
"And now we know for sure that Sturm didn't make it out when Sigrun did." Their voice is so small, so soft. "I -- I felt it."
"Okay, so- I have some thoughts? But they can wait, I kinda feel like I should know what you mean by "I felt it" before I start trying to rebuild walls over sinkholes or something. What did you feel?" Johnnie's tone is cautious, still trying to make sure that she's not missing something before she starts spouting off the sort of boundless optimism she used to aim at the idea of exterminating the Gentry.
"I ... at the end of the dream, I felt ... I felt the Thorns, I felt her crawling through them, and then I felt her back get pierced by ... so many sharp things. Arrows, maybe. Something. But whatever it was connected to, Johnnie... "
Teagan swallows, burying their face into her belly, so that her body muffles it when they say: "I felt her get dragged back in to Valhalla, as she watched Sigrun escape."
"... oh."
Johnnie swallows hard. "That- gods, Teagan. To get that close, and then just- get... pulled away. That must have been awful to go through, dream or no dream. Did Sigrun even see it happen? Did she try to help, could she have?"
A little shake of their head against her belly. "I don't think so," Teagan answers quietly. "I tried really hard to watch it from both sides, so I could get that answer, but ... I don't think so. She landed really hard in the Hedge when her mount went out from under her, and part of her fucking soul went off to the hill where Glitch said he saw it... and then I'm sure she was running... "
"... but that doesn't mean ... "
"Doesn't mean what?" Johnnie queries gently. "I'm just asking so we can help Sigrun know she didn't abandon Sturm, and help Sturm know she didn't get abandoned. Is there something I'm not seeing?"
A heavy, heavy sigh. "That doesn't mean that she doesn't feel that she abandoned Sturm. That she doesn't... feel responsibility. And in this case, how she feels is as important as the facts, because it's fucking cracking her up." Teagan has been doing a lot of the running back and forth, talking to both of the principals in this little interpersonal drama, and it's starting to really, really wear on them. "She always thought she was the shining hero. That's the image she made for herself in her head. The shining Valkyrie who threw off her own chains and who has become so fucking iconic. She spins her own thread to weave her own cloth to make her own clothing, for fuck's sake. She's like an icon of self-reliance. Sigrun Ljosdottir did this on her own. Sigrun Ljosdottir can do anything on her own."
"Except, as it turns out, escape. That she did with the help of one of the Jotunn who she has hated with all her heart for many years. That she did not do on her own, and the great and epic hero Sigrun Ljosdottir not only didn't do that on her own, or with the help of another Valkryie who also got away, but she left someone behind."
They sniffle against Johnny's stomach. "And Sturm has built herself up, I think, around the idea that she's so bad she can't be redeemed. If she's so terrible, if she's the bad guy, then she's got nothing left to lose, and nothing can hurt her because she's already lost it all. She's a void, a pit, a black hole where no light escapes. She's already written off. And that in its way is a relief, it's safety, because if you're already the worst you can be, you can't get any worse. And nothing you do matters. It's a kind of freedom."
That's the voice of experience, there, as well Johnnie knows.
"But it turns out that she's not the villain of this piece, and Sigrun isn't the hero. And maybe they're both just people, not all good, not all bad. Fractured and imperfect and trying their best."
"And that's real scary."
It's not until that last line that Johnnie really groks just how frightening all this is to them. It's not until the line is drawn to being people that she winces with her whole body, connecting with the idea all at once. "Oh." It'd been a challenge to become a Person again. Being a God had been exhilirating, freeing, safe. Everything she did felt right because it was what the God chose to do and who could question that? But people failed. People made mistakes. And that? That WAS scary. She got that.
"Oh, gosh. I- can relate to that, at least. It's a lot easier to be an archetype and have everything spelled out for you. You're not doing anything wrong as long as you're still playing to type. You're only wrong if you don't. Being a person is complicated and hard. Yeah."
"I pointed out to Sigrun that... she's still a hero, she's still saved lives, not least of all mine. That she's built herself up and been what she wanted to be and not what old One-Eyed Fuckface wants her to be. But I think she'll probably need reminding, you know? When this ... is all confirmed."
Another sigh. Teagan's doing a lot of that tonight. "I'm not really sure how to approach Sturm's whole thing. It's hard. Because how do you remind someone that they don't have to be the villain without calling out the fact that, you know... they've been typecasting themself? I hope that just... getting the shield... and doing that with Sigrun... will help her."
The tiniest voice, quiet against their lover's stomach. "I don't know how to deal with this, Johnnie. Sigrun -- isn't okay with me being with Sturm, and I know why." A heavy silence. "And Sigrun means the world to me. She's literally the sun in the sky to me."
"I." And that's all. Just 'I.'
"Yeah. All of that's true. And I'm happy to help with the reminding. And I think that the more Sturm does the stuff she thought beyond her, the more cracks will break in her self-loathing dam. But, uh." She presses her lips together a bit and squeezes Teagan. "I dunno what to do about the rest. The last time I- heh. "Realized"-" One of her shadows finger-quotes for her. "-that an interest of mine was causing an issue, I walked away. I can't remember the last time I talked to Jane. That's- the only resolution I've ever played out. And I get," she hurries to reassure. "-that this is different in basically every important way, but that also means all I can recommend is just... hoping Sigrun changes her mind." Because the alternative doesn't bear speaking. It's not much by way of reassurance... but she doesn't know how else to approach the topic of "I think my wild gay longing is running right up against a really hard "no.""
That's really not her skillset.
"Oh, I didn't. I don't need answers. I'm sorry. I just." And that's about where it stops. Because while it is different in a lot of very important ways, being reminded of the fact that Teagan's the reason why one of their motleymate's wild gay longings ran into an unresolvable no just sort of shuts down the entire conversation. Maybe Johnnie's not the right person to actually say those things out loud to. And so the rest of that part of the conversation just goes into a heavy iron box.
"Anyway. Yeah. We have to tell Sigrun. I have to tell Sigrun. And then we have to go to New York. The longer this goes on, the worse it'll be."
"You don't need to apologize, lovely," Johnnie murmurs gently. "And for the record. I think, ideally, it'd be awesome if things relaxed, and you don't have to walk around in the emotional equivalent of a chastity cage around Sturm. That's the outcome I'd prefer." The shadows stroke gently against mirrorblack skin. "If you just wanna talk it out, get how frustrating it is out in the open, I am one hundred percent okay listening and empathizing- as long as you don't want answer, like you said. Cuz the only answers that I know are not the ones you need and not the ones I want you to use here."
"That sounds about right. Sig needs to know, and we need to get that shield back so we can find out what we're working with after she has it back. All things told, I don't think it'll make things worse, so hopefully, it makes them better. We can hope, right?" A kiss, soft, on the corner of Teagan's mouth. Johnnie isn't June, but she's trying really hard to be a good teddy bear.
A heavy sigh, and Teagan just lays there still for a long, long time. They've been sighing a lot tonight, and that doesn't look to stop anytime soon. "I mean that's kind of the problem," the Mirrorskin finally says. "There's no such thing as the emotional equivalent of a chastity cage, is there? I can not say out loud what's going on, I can not ... fuck her, or kiss her, or call her anything but my friend, but that doesn't -- "
"I know her better than anybody on this world except our motley at this point. Emotions can't be governed or commanded to behave. And I wish they could. It would probably be easier."
"But I." And that's as far as that sentence goes, again. But I. And they accept the kiss to the corner of their mouth. "It'll get better," they change the subject. "It will. It always does. We always make it better."
"Every single solution just compounds the pressure and tension," Johnnie ventures. "That's the issue. There's a problem that you can't make go away, but since you won't make Sturm go away either- which you shouldn't, I don't think- it leaves you in a constant state of- uh... torsion? That's twisting pressure, right? That sounds right. You're stuck in a state of torsion, twisting back onto yourself to keep from making contact with Sturm without moving away from her."
"But."
"Maybe that's it right there." Vorpal runs a hand along their hip, tracing the tuck at their waist, the faint swell near their ass. "You keep trying to say I. And just now, you fixed it to we. That's kind of the point, isn't it? You can't fix this, no matter how hard you try. On your own, it's a no-win scenario. Together, though. Things always get better. So we work together. And we watch them get better. Cuz I can't see any way they get worse by going to New York."
"She told me not to," the Mirrorskin whines, a low, desperate tone in the words. "She told me not to. She said she wants me to be there for Sturm, and to help her, because I'm good at it, and I am, and. I'm helping." Their face twists in the exaggerated way that only a Mirrorskin's can and they mash it into her belly.
Muffled by Johnnie's stomach: "You fuckers made me love people, and now I can't stop."
They fall into silence again, quietly sniffling against the Elemental, just hanging on. "Yeah. You're right, of course."
"Fuck me being right, you're right, I just pointed out what you were already saying in a way that sounded less like giving up and more like understanding. We went for a walk and circled back after the lights turned on, that's all. And it's good that she told you not to send Sturm away. That sounds all the more likely like this'll probably work out. Just- like. Y'know. Keep your pants on for another week or so. Let Sturm know that if shit gets real bad you might just Light-Shy out and bolt and that it isn't because something went wrong but something went right too early. Communicate with everyone and color in the lines a little longer. Okay?" She strokes too many fingers down Teagan's back, gentle and graceful and adoring.
They make a small, strangled sound, and go quiet again. "It's not the keeping the pants on that's the problem, as much as that may surprise you from me," Teagan mutters. "I turned Lux down, too, because it was too fucking fraught and they'd just had all these Feelings in my general direction about their polycule. I turn people down, like, a lot these days."
WHICH IS REALLY ANNOYING, ACTUALLY.
"The pants aren't the problem. The fucking uncontrollable feelings are. How the fuck am I not supposed to love her at this point?" The Mirrorskin flops over onto their back, staring up at the ceiling. "Do you remember the song I played for you off of the playlist I made, when I explained to you that I communicate through music easier than ... most other ways?" Back when that was mostly still true.
"I mean, it's not that surprising. I haven't fucked a new person since... uh." Johnnie pauses to think. "... uh... I... don't... know that I remember how long it's been. Before Philly, I guess. Huh. Deific abstinence is a bitch, apparently." She shrugs.
"... wait. What's the big deal, then?" Johnnie is officially confused. "You can't control feelings, just your responses to them. I thought the huge big problem is that you love her and that makes you want to Do Stuff that's not okay. Is the loving her in and of itself the issue?? Cuz if it is, aren't you already boned?" Johnnie has definitely been completely lost.
"I- remember it happened? I don't remember the song itself." Cuz remembering through the haze of Being A God is fucking hard.
"It's surprising for me," the Mirrorskin wails. "I'm a fucking stray cat of a creature, when did I get all fucking domesticated and shit?" This may not make a lot of sense to anyone but Teagan, but that's ... okay, after a sense. Every once in a while, the emotionally competent person that runs around keeping people's heads together with baling wire and spit needs to just yell and freak out.
"I feel pretty boned, and not in the way I like." Beat. "I just hadn't actually ... " sigh. "I just hadn't actually even tried to admit to it. And it feels like a failure to admit to it. Like I didn't ... appropriately walk the tight rope."
"Enh." Johnnie murmurs, shaking her head. "I don't think it's a failure. Nobody can claim control over their own feelings like that and nobody should ask that. I don't believe Sigrun would. It's not the loving. It's the actions. She needs to trust, right now, that she's still first. That she's not gonna suddenly play second fiddle to someone she spent years actively hating. That's the nightmare she's fleeing from. And asking you not to cross that line with her is how she knows she hasn't. You know?"
"So meanwhile," Johnnie murrs, leaning in to kiss at Teagan's throat, realhands meshing their fingers slowly into Teagan's own. "We keep the tension limited to all that boundless gay longing, and keep you satisfied so one temptation's off the table. What say we give June the night off. Hm? Unless she wakes up, in which case, well," Johnnie all but purrs into Teagan's ear. "-no jury in the world'd convict any of us. Lemme do my part, lovely, hm?"
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