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Who: Pell, Flick, Cal, and Ulaume
What: Pell gets everyone together to implore them to get along and it inevitably turns into a bitchfest.
Where: 1402
When: now!
Warnings: language, possible mentions of murder

This isn't going to go well and Pell knows it, but he's doing it anyway -- and that's the shorthand for his entire life, really.

As happy as he is with Cal here, he misses his best friend. And (unfortunately) Flick now comes with Ulaume. Which means all four of them are going to have to learn to get along somehow. They can't just keep avoiding each other, and the city isn't big enough if he thought that was a solution. So he's asked Flick to come back home and bring his chesnari. If he can be civil so can they. This Cal hasn't yet done what Flick hates him for, maybe it's possible that he never does.

He hasn't told Cal that the others are coming by, and they're curled up in the living room when there's a knock at the door. Pell bolts up to answer it. "Don't move," he orders Cal, his hand on the doorknob. And then he opens it to usher Flick and Ulaume in.

Let the fighting begin.

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Cal had very much been enjoying Pell's company (the warmth still surprised him). He was angry first when he heard the knock and almost told Pell not to answer it--but he was already on his feet and out of Cal's arms before he can even think to say the words, and his eyes narrow, though he obediently stays put.

"What are you up to?" But that was answered when he opened the door. Seeing who was on the other side, his expression went flat instead. Maybe that was more dangerous than looking how he felt, but he couldn't really figure out what he was feeling about the whole thing.

"You invited that snake?"

Flick was scowling when he reached the door to the apartment he used to share with Pell, the place his friend now lived with Cal. He did miss his friend. He just wished Pell came without Cal,a prospect that would never come true as long as Cal existed. Even dead, Cal would always be with Pell. The love they had was a sickness, it twisted and wormed its way inside everything. Love that was actually dangerous.

He gave his friend s brief smile, stepping inside with Lor, his hand clutched together with his chesnari's.

"If I'm welcome here, than so is Lor. We come as a set." Flick glared at Cal. "He has a name you know."

Perhaps this second meeting will go a little better, and there won't be any mutual death threats. And pigs will start to fly. Ulaume's done his part--he's clean, he's let his (much shorter) hair down and he's looking a lot more put together in general. His clothes even fit. Take that, Cal.

All sweetness, light and a faint hint of mockery, he squeezes Flick's hand, meeting Cal's eyes. "I see you still haven't learned any manners. I suppose it's a lost cause by now. May we come in?"

"Yes, Cal, I invited them. Come in." Pell steps back behind the door so the two of them can enter, closing it behind them. He spots a bottle in Flick's free hand and that's a bit of a relief -- maybe a drink or two will mellow everyone out. For now, though, he leads the way back to the living room, sitting on the couch and waiting for the others to join him.

"I suppose it's a bit late to ask everyone to at least try and be polite? I'd like for Flick to move back in. If we can all get along." He doesn't mention Ulaume specifically. It's enough, he thinks, that he's trusting the other har not to try to kill him again.

This could only end badly. There was no way he could trust them. Ulaume was treacherous and with how Flick had been reacting to him...there would never be safety. Cal might have been accustomed to sleeping with one eye open, but that didn't make it any more comfortable.

He pointedly ignored Ulaume to glare at Flick instead, still seated where he had been. He could at least do that much as Pell had asked. If it came right down to it, there would be time enough later for posturing and blood.

"It's your head if you want to be seduced by the beast. Don't cry when he bites it off."

But then Pell is playing peacemaker and he bites his tongue, takes a breath. Behave, Cal. For his sake.

"Do you actually believe that would work?"

Flick handed the bottle to Pell, because he actually had manners. Unlike certain other hara in the room. He wasn't going to name names but you knew who you were. And it wasn't Ulaume or Pell. He had an idea about how well this would go. Last time he had a well intentioned get together, it had been himself, Seel and Orien, and Orien ended up dead.

"Ulaume and I have been together for over ten years. It's not him I'm worried about. You hurt everyone you touch, Cal." He was always self destructive. It was part of Cal's nature, and part, Flick thought, that made him so appealing. It was that borderline crazy, sensual look, and the way he spit you out half dead when he was finished. "I'm not going anywhere without Lor, Pell."

Flick looked at Pell and apologized. "I'm sorry," and took an empty seat. "Lor changed. Maybe it's possible for you too." Flick lied through his teeth. Cal couldn't change. He was destruction incarnate.

Edited 2016-11-11 05:05 (UTC)

He blinks at Pell's words, and for a moment there's something steely written on his face. That's crueler than anything he expected from Pell, to try and split him and Flick. Which would never happen--he knows Flick well, and trusts the other har. Flick would probably rather lop off an arm than leave Lor... and the feeling's mutual.

He seats himself next to Flick before he says anything. Maybe coming here was a mistake, though part of him did want to. Not just for Flick's sake, either. "Like he said. We come as a pair." Eyes on Cal again. "That's a rather big 'if', you know."

"I didn't mean to separate you. I just can't bring myself to say I want you around just yet." It's a fairly neutral, honest statement, and Pell shrugs as he sets the bottle on the table. (He's considering getting glasses now.) He meets Ulaume's eyes evenly. "Of course you'd come along. If Flick says you've changed, I trust him."

Flick, however, is lying. He doesn't believe what he just said, Pell can hear the lie in his voice. "Cal's never hurt me," he says softly, taking a step back to claim his chesna's hand just as Flick is holding Ulaume's. "I know we don't trust each other. But we can surely manage to be in each other's presence without fighting."

That was true--he'd never hurt Pell. Other people were another matter entirely. He greedily claimed Pell's hand when it was offered, standing next to the har and staring down the other pair. He wouldn't be intimidated by them. No matter how crazy he was or they thought he was, he still had as much a right to be here as they did.

When Pell spoke, though, he made a face. He wasn't certain that was actually a possibility. He'd try but, well...things would go bad. They always went bad.

"I'm not sure we can. If we're to be leashed, then, so be it."

Flick let his arm drape around Lor, gently touching a lock of hair with a finger.They had no idea what the two of them had been through together. It wasn't a love like Cal and Pell had. In fact, what they had started from hatred, or at least an extreme dislike. But over time they gave and took, until it all got polished away and replaced with something more. Something better. Something like love, but not so destructive that he thought Lor would lose himself without Flick. Or maybe that was just something Cal did.

"I trust you Pell. But I've cleaned up blood once and I don't want to have to do it again." As for Cal and Lor, Lor may have changed, but that didn't mean Cal did. Cal was still capable of anything. He was Uigenna. Always. That couldn't be changed. He was tainted.

He tears his eyes away from Cal, returning Pell's gaze. "I can't say I want to be here any more than you want me." And a lock of hair twists itself around Flick's finger, mostly of its own free will. No, he doesn't want to be anywhere near Cal. How long will that dog be able to resist its instincts before it comes for him in the night? They'd have to sleep with a knife under their pillow, for pity's sake.

"Perhaps we all need more time to think it over." Stall. Stall for days, weeks, hell--even months.

"There will be no blood." Pell squeezes Cal's hand, frustrated that they don't see Cal as he does. Not insane, not a killer for the sake of it, not going to murder them in their sleep because the broken pieces are back together. There's no reason for Cal to hurt them.

He watches Ulaume's hair twirling itself around Flick's finger and remembers the blood that beaded on his skin where it touched him. While he's not afraid of the other har, he can't yet shake the feeling that he needs to keep his distance. Which would make living together difficult. All of them are going to be stressed if they do this, but... he looks back to Flick. He really does miss his friend being around. "Time isn't the answer; it won't help us learn to be around one another. The only thing that can do that is actually being in contact. We need to stick together here, don't you understand? Hasn't Flick told you how dangerous it is?"

At first, Cal kept his silence, but not even trying to keep the glare off his face. He was trying hard not to think about what didn't add up--ten years, 8 months, nothing lined up the way he remembered and it was dizzying. What had he missed? What was he supposed to look forward to? Or, more likely, what was he supposed to be dreading?

At least, for now, there was Pell. The shining beacon to keep him anchored to what was supposed to be real. Even if sometimes it didn't feel like it.

He tried to focus on the concrete--the walls around him, the warmth of Pell's hand in his, each breath. It wasn't helping much.

"There will be blood. It won't be me that spills yours."

Unlike Pell's previous reaction to Ulaume's hair, Flick actually enjoyed it. He liked touching his chesnari, and feeling his hair move and flex and curl around him reminded him they were away from the Uigenna. Maybe not safe. But safer. He relaxed into Lor, his eyes still on Cal, wary. He did miss his friend though.

And Pell was right. It was dangerous, and Flick and Lor were out of practice. They were good at running. They'd been running for over a decade. Cal and Pell, however, were more polished fighters. He looked at his chesnari, opening his thoughts to his, hoping to communicate this so Cal wouldn't know. Wouldn't see weakness. He tensed.

"The problem is, I look at Cal, and I see blood everywhere! I see Orien's body hanging from the Nayati, Pell. You can't assume to know what affect this place is going to have on his sanity." Which was tenuous if you asked Flick. "That's right Cal. You killed him. You were convinced Orien had a part in Pell's death and killed a good har. For no reason at all. Your sick."

"The hell it will!" he says, harshly, hair dropping away from Flick's fingers. He's never been good at impulse control or keeping his fat mouth shut. "I haven't--"

Whatever he was going to say is cut off as Flick's thoughts touch his and he nods to Flick. It's true. Life may have been rough, but they've avoided any actual violence for an entire decade... Hopefully Flick can pick up on his agreement, before it's blown away by his words. Cal didn't know?

"That's the way to tell him!" Pell snapped, his grip on Cal tightening, opening his mind to send support as he struggles to calm at least his voice. "He hasn't done that. Maybe he never will, but I know that here I'm alive and well and he'd have no reason to hurt you, so stop acting like you're in danger." He isn't naive, he can vividly imagine the murder that Flick described and Cal doing it. He just doesn't believe that his Cal would. "At least we're opening up, I suppose. I'm going to get glasses."

His thumb strokes the back of Cal's hand before he lets go to move into the kitchen area, still within eye and earshot of the argument. He'll be back quickly with four glasses and sets about opening the bottle and pouring them all a drink. Maybe it'll mellow them out a bit. For his part he's distressed for reasons besides the fight -- he hates thinking that Orien did have a part in his death, a thing he can also imagine. He hates thinking about Cal grieving in the first place, let alone through violence.

Cal's expression went blank as he stared first at then through Flick. His free hand clenched into a fist at his side and when Pell let's go of his other, that one does too. He could feel his nails digging into his palms so hard that he wouldn't be surprised if he'd drawn blood. He wanted to scream, wanted to throw them out, yell that hadn't done anything, deny that he ever would have--

--but. He couldn't honestly say that was true. If he so much as suspected that Orien had something to do with it, he would absolutely have killed him.

There was so much blood on his hands and he didn't even care.

He couldn't move--he tried to leave. His hands started to hurt.

What was he supposed to do?

Flick knew it was a bad idea to antagonize Cal, especially if he was already unhinged. But he was hurt and he was angry and they'd been running and hiding for so long. It was easy to lash out, especially at Cal. He could have kept twisting the knife, Aru knows Seel gave him more than enough ammo when they talked. But, seeing the look on Cal's face, Flick stopped. And maybe he wanted to keep some of that ammo for later.

"You had days to tell him your way Pell." Flick retorted, still angry even though it'd been ten years. That anger had come slowly. At first, Flick had been more scared and hurt than angry. But knowing that Pell had been resurrected somehow? That all of Cal's actions hadn't been for anything, that pissed him off.

Flick watched Cal, leaning toward his chesnari for support in case Flick had just unleashed a wild animal in the middle of Pell's apartment. Flick almost got up to help Pellaz get the glasses, but he didn't want to leave Cal and Ulaume alone.

"Lor. Help him?"

Ulaume's eyes flicker from Flick to Cal to Flick again... and he shakes his head slightly, squeezing the shorter har's shoulder. Thoughts still open for Flick to peer at if he wishes, he watches Cal for any sign of danger. No, he doesn't want to leave Flick by himself with that creature, who's clearly on the edge of snapping. And he doesn't particularly wish to be alone with Pell at the moment, any more than Pell wants to see him.

Drinks. Drinks may help this meeting turned sour, once they've all relaxed a little. If they can't make it through one night, how in the world are they meant to live together?

It's alright, he didn't really need help. Pell pours four drinks and passes Flick and Ulaume their glasses first, then hands one to Cal and claims his own, pressing in against his chesna's side and slipping an arm around his waist. That's not how he wanted Cal to find out... at least he knows now? Pell could have done without the insults but he tries to understand that Flick's the one who was there for it, who's afraid and angry. He's neither of those things. So he just takes a sip of his drink and thinks of where to go from here.

"Why don't we take a minute to calm down? Flick, your room is as it was, if you want to go in there." He gives Cal a little tug, towards the stairs and their room.

At Pell's touch Cal seemed to snap out of it, shaking his head. He unclenched his fists, flexed his fingers against the ache and accepted the offered glass as he turned away from the other pair. The years he'd missed (apparently) and trying to find something in them... It was an impossible task and yet he was being forced at every turn to confront the things that hadn't happened yet--the things that made him a monster.

He drained his glass perhaps a little too quickly--there was courage in it he needed badly, and he tried not to shake, though whether it was from anger or something else he couldn't tell.

"That seems like a much...safer idea."

Flick rolls his eyes at Lor, refusing to leave. He reaches out with his mind, making his annoyed amusement known. He should have expected it though. They'd never stopped running, and Ulaume was not about to leave him alone with a potential threat. They started this together, it was only when they were alone that bad things happened.

He shrugged a small apology to Pell and reached out to touch his friends hopefully not closed off mind. I'm sorry. The smaller har took the wine glass gratefully and sipped at it. He forced himself to look at Cal. He was not the har he had seen before, the har who had come to Saltrock after Pell's death, emaciated and completely crazed. He wasn't the har that saw how unhappy he was with Seel, seduced him and spit him out. Whoever that Cal in front of him was, Flick had to make himself see that, and not his own sheen of hatred and self fury.

He took Lor's hand, and motioned toward his room. Maybe if they all felt safe again they could start again. And maybe pigs would fly.

A nod to Flick this time, as he takes a small, cautious swallow of the drink first. Hara can't be poisoned, of course, but if something nasty tasting has been put in his glass... that's still worth avoiding. Though Pell probably isn't that petty and Cal never left the room.

And it's fine. Not bad, in fact.

"Let's. Just a few minutes." No more than half an hour to talk it over privately out loud. That should help. He stands, gently tugging Flick in the direction of the bedrooms.

It'll be fine, he sends back to Flick, before downing his drink and pulling away just far enough to take Cal's hand -- he unfists it gently -- and lead him upstairs to their bedroom. He nudges the door closed and is pressed back against Cal immediately, resting his forehead on the other's shoulder.

"I didn't want you to find out that way." And if he's honest... "I didn't want you to find out at all."

His movements felt slow again, wrapped in a reverie of thoughts he hadn't thought I of before. He could almost feel the blood on him again, but was it Pell's or Orion's? Did that even really matter? How arms find their way around Pell's shoulders again, holding him close but gently--as if he's afraid he'd break him.

"It was bound to come out eventually." No one keeps a secret like that forever. He sighed, though, and buried his face in the other har's hair. His voice was soft and muffled as he continued.

"There can be no peace so long as that hangs over our heads."

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