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[ OPEN ] ; Network: Chainsawd; Video; Story Time;
[ The video opens to Ronan, sitting in a high-backed chair. He makes a motion towards the camera, and the shot changes to an aerial view of what looks very much like a library, books to the rafters, vines and tree branches gently curling around shelf upon shelf. The light is dusty, but natural. Chainsawd swoops back down, settling once more in front of Ronan, filming him.
It's obvious he's not alone - there's a shoulder against his, and he's leaning against whoever is sitting next to him in what seems like obvious habit of sharing space. On his lap, Ronan has a large volume open, the pages yellowed and crinkly with age. He doesn't smile as he looks at the camera, but he looks sort of relaxed.
Without much introduction, Ronan looks down, and starts reading, his voice nuanced; he has the tone and rhythm of someone used to telling stories. ]
Now when Sarpedon saw his comrades, men who wore ungirdled tunics, being overcome by Patroclus, son of Menoetius, he rebuked the Lycians, saying, "Shame on you, where are you flying to? Show your mettle;
I will myself meet this man in fight and learn who it is that is so masterful; he has done us much hurt, and has stretched many a brave man upon the ground."
He sprang from his chariot as he spoke, and Patroclus, when he saw this, leaped on to the ground also. The two then rushed at one another with loud cries like eagle-beaked crook-taloned vultures that scream and tear at one another in some high mountain fastness.
The son of scheming Saturn looked down upon them in pity and said to Juno who was his wife and sister, "Alas, that it should be the lot of Sarpedon whom I love so dearly to perish by the hand of Patroclus. I am in two minds whether to catch him up out of the fight and set him down safe and sound in the fertile land of Lycia, or to let him now fall by the hand of the son of Menoetius."
[ He took his time, reading. It was a book he loved, after all - and he always wanted to give it the recognition it deserved. On screen, Adam's face was visible, now, as he leaned closer to read, too, his chin almost hooked on Ronan's shoulder. Sometimes, you could see him glance fondly at Ronan. ]
And Juno answered, "Most dread son of Saturn, what is this that you are saying? Would you snatch a mortal man, whose doom has long been fated, out of the jaws of death? Do as you will, but we shall not all of us be of your mind. I say further, and lay my saying to your heart, that if you send Sarpedon safely to his own home, some other of the gods will be also wanting to escort his son out of battle, for there are many sons of gods fighting round the city of Troy, and you will make every one jealous. If, however, you are fond of him and pity him, let him indeed fall by the hand of Patroclus, but as soon as the life is gone out of him, send Death and sweet Sleep to bear him off the field and take him to the broad lands of Lycia, where his brothers and his kinsmen will bury him with mound and pillar, in due honor to the dead."
The sire of gods and men assented, but he shed a rain of blood upon the earth in honor of his son whom Patroclus was about to kill on the rich plain of Troy far from his home.
[ Ronan finally looked up, an eyebrow raised at the camera. ]
Now, children, I know my dulcet tones have probably lulled you to sleep with this epic tale of heroism, but who can tell me - what's this book I'm reading from?
It's obvious he's not alone - there's a shoulder against his, and he's leaning against whoever is sitting next to him in what seems like obvious habit of sharing space. On his lap, Ronan has a large volume open, the pages yellowed and crinkly with age. He doesn't smile as he looks at the camera, but he looks sort of relaxed.
Without much introduction, Ronan looks down, and starts reading, his voice nuanced; he has the tone and rhythm of someone used to telling stories. ]
Now when Sarpedon saw his comrades, men who wore ungirdled tunics, being overcome by Patroclus, son of Menoetius, he rebuked the Lycians, saying, "Shame on you, where are you flying to? Show your mettle;
I will myself meet this man in fight and learn who it is that is so masterful; he has done us much hurt, and has stretched many a brave man upon the ground."
He sprang from his chariot as he spoke, and Patroclus, when he saw this, leaped on to the ground also. The two then rushed at one another with loud cries like eagle-beaked crook-taloned vultures that scream and tear at one another in some high mountain fastness.
The son of scheming Saturn looked down upon them in pity and said to Juno who was his wife and sister, "Alas, that it should be the lot of Sarpedon whom I love so dearly to perish by the hand of Patroclus. I am in two minds whether to catch him up out of the fight and set him down safe and sound in the fertile land of Lycia, or to let him now fall by the hand of the son of Menoetius."
[ He took his time, reading. It was a book he loved, after all - and he always wanted to give it the recognition it deserved. On screen, Adam's face was visible, now, as he leaned closer to read, too, his chin almost hooked on Ronan's shoulder. Sometimes, you could see him glance fondly at Ronan. ]
And Juno answered, "Most dread son of Saturn, what is this that you are saying? Would you snatch a mortal man, whose doom has long been fated, out of the jaws of death? Do as you will, but we shall not all of us be of your mind. I say further, and lay my saying to your heart, that if you send Sarpedon safely to his own home, some other of the gods will be also wanting to escort his son out of battle, for there are many sons of gods fighting round the city of Troy, and you will make every one jealous. If, however, you are fond of him and pity him, let him indeed fall by the hand of Patroclus, but as soon as the life is gone out of him, send Death and sweet Sleep to bear him off the field and take him to the broad lands of Lycia, where his brothers and his kinsmen will bury him with mound and pillar, in due honor to the dead."
The sire of gods and men assented, but he shed a rain of blood upon the earth in honor of his son whom Patroclus was about to kill on the rich plain of Troy far from his home.
[ Ronan finally looked up, an eyebrow raised at the camera. ]
Now, children, I know my dulcet tones have probably lulled you to sleep with this epic tale of heroism, but who can tell me - what's this book I'm reading from?
text; un: moonshined
no subject
also learn to spell, dickweed
[ He has no idea who this is, but it's heartfelt nonetheless. ]
no subject
did u bring 3 dick gansey & the rest of the spice girlz
i knew the multiverss couldnt kill u fuckers
u like roaches
always comin back no matter where i fuckin go
congratlations
still a motherfuckn nerd
no subject
But then again, Blue is here, from some point in Ronan and Adam's past.
Jesus fucking Christ. And he dares calling them the roaches.
Helplessly, Ronan elbows Adam, pointing at the screen. ]
and you're still useless
some things don't fucking change
no subject
And then stills. ]
You're fucking kidding me.
[ Adam had been uncaring when Kavinsky had died. He'd been pleased. He'd never had any run ins with the other boy, too busy being Cabeswater's agent to be as involved. But now he's here and it feels like something unpleasant crawling up the back of his neck. ]
Here?
[ Him, but not Gansey? ]
no subject
Blue, she's here from earlier than us. Like, just after when Noah attacked her and Gansey. She hasn't even gone to the hospital, she doesn't know Gansey told us about them, she doesn't know about us.
[ He gives Adam a worried look. ]
Could be the same with him. Shit.
no subject
[ He had somehow managed to sidestep that little tidbit of information and the new knowledge of it has the furrow deepening between his brows. He motions to Barricaded who transforms back into his robot form and rappels up a chair near them. Adam quietly asks for the search functions and then --
Pauses.
He doesn't even know where to start. ]
A woman called Rosie told me that she was from a world like this before. One with weird timelines.
no subject
[ He looks back at the screen, and brings his leather bracelets to his mouth, out of habit. ]
What are we doing about this?
no subject
Because there had been a part of him that was sure there was something between the two street racers. Not something that had been physical, but the possibility of it. Before he'd even realised Ronan's gaze was on him, before he'd even known he'd look back.
Jealousy is ugly, but familiar. ]
I don't know.
[ It's the only thing he can say. His dusty brows pull tighter together, mouth twisting at the edges. ] What can we do? He isn't Greenmantle. [ They can't just dream up a solution. And Adam wouldn't ask that again, wouldn't risk it. ]
no subject
Inaction is not something he's very good at, or with. But right now, he sees nothing else to be done. He is no killer, nor does he want to be. He can do anything to send Kavinsky away. He isn't sure there is anywhere they can go, here. ]
Okay. We keep an eye on it. If he... if he doesn't do anything, neither should we. Right?
no subject
Ronan's agitated, and Adam wishes he had a time machine just so he could go back to ten minutes ago, when things were easier and full of potential. He doesn't like this. ]
We'll watch him.
[ He runs a hand through his hair, jaw tight. ]
I'm not sure he'd risk anything stupid in a place like this, anyway.
no subject
He says he's changed.
[ Ronan isn't sure what to say, or do. He keeps on looking at the back of Adam's head. His hair is getting long. ]
He's not our responsibility, Adam. We've got more important shit to take care of.
no subject
Sure, and I'm secretly a prince.
[ He doesn't know which emotion to let loose, his annoyance, his anger, the sharp protective streak that makes him look at Ronan again.
His jaw softens. ]
Yeah. But you'll tell me if you need me, right?
[ If he becomes Ronan's responsibility. ]
no subject
Yeah. Yeah, I'll tell you. Don't worry.
fade?
[ Ronan doesn't lie. Anyone else and Adam wouldn't take that at face value. But this boy? He knows he'll tell him. So he lets the subject slide, goes back to flipping through the books before them. He won't let someone like Kavinsky ruin the softly brewing affection between them. ]
no subject
u still sound the fuckin same
panciky lil bitch without g to call heel
listne bitch im only gonna say it once
cuz ive had to say it 5 fuckin times 2 ur other multverse clones
im different
& ure somebody elses fuckin problem now
no subject
and you definitely sound super different, for sure
using the same insults, trying to rile me up like i give a flying fuck what you think of me, or gansey
newsflash, it didn't work back home, it still won't work here
i've never been your problem, dickhead
funny though, you talk like you want nothing with me
why did you even reply to this message
you're pretty fucking transparent, kavinsky
[ Back in the day, Ronan would have been agitated by now. itching for a fight, for a race. But aside from a bad feeling under his skin, he's completely calm, Kavinsky's badly spelled words bouncing right off of him. ]
no subject
im re plying 2 this message cuz we fucking neighbors again, lynch
multiverse keeps vomiting yo ass up out of nowhere liek i said & i never fuckin know which model im gonna get
whether im stuck in cuddle fuckin city or this post apocalypti cfairyland
now i kno
stuck in war wit a sullen bitch who learned all bout gay from the ancient greeks
worse ways 2 learn
no subject
no subject