[Private] Breaking and Bending

The Dancer's hands shift around the cup he was washing as the ringing threw off whatever music was blaring in his ear. "Yeah, sec," he muttered to himself, snapping his fingers as he dropped the dish back in the sink and arranged a few properly again on the rack.

"One sec!" Mitch repeated louder, quietly embarrassed as the entire rack was managed a second time, before he tore his eyes away to stop being rude. He was still removing the wireless Beats with his free hand as he finally opened the door, black voids for eyes sweeping downward as he expected his irritated neighbour over the gorgeous Playmate. 

"Oh, hey Yuan," he managed, exhaling with an unsure smile as he glanced down the hallway for the other's motleymates or some other obvious signal for business. "Were you looking for Cailleagh?"

The question fumbled out, almost rote as his mind stuttered for the moment. He pinpointed the distinct annoyance he felt was sourced from a different Lost and a different time. Still, the Fairest greyed a bit as he blushed.

The Fairest was looking past the other as he leaned against the frame, expression glazed while Yuan's discomfort started to bleed. The statement that he was missed evoked something pained as the corners of eyes pinched.

Sure, Verdant Creed.

That's what Mitch told himself as he moved to leave the door open, stepping back far enough to give the other optimal space. The Dancer was mostly focused on not feeding into anything that would make the Playmate think he needed to fix something, or owed time. It was because of that that he froze on any sort of reassurance or apology for his own silence.

"Roommate's out for most of the day," he said, referring to old habits when he wasn't sure if Yuan would be comfortable by himself. "Did you want water, or tea or anything?"

His feet were already moving back behind the cover of the counter island and cupboards that separated the living room from the kitchen area.

The Dancer was more animated once he had the cover, prepping the kettle as he started a count in his head to finish the sparse amount of dishes and keep his attention on a task.

"Um, I'm doing pretty good, things considered," he admitted, "I diverted most of the Lost I was volunteering with to other Bishops, and kept the edge cases. I've been able to actually talk to Cailleagh more and keep things chill with Eurydice... what I thought was a bad year actually didn't cause much disruption, like, at all, because my auto pilot was pretty good for keeping people happy despite..." there was an angry edge to his chuckle, cutting off the rambling.

Despite it almost killing me.

"I still don't really sit down, but I don't think I have, like, ever, so I'd probably not know what to do with myself if I had free time?"

His hand drifted to the heavy scarring from the Huntsman's blade marring his ear and jaw at the comment about his injuries, pausing for a beat as he caught the rest of what Yuan was saying. His face pinched in surprised when he realized his eyes had misted, blinking to clear it. "U-um...yeah, the...sorry about the phone calls? I was worried, I guess, but..."

He didn't know how to articulate the fact that he had no way of knowing if it was even ethical to continue interacting with Yuan; if he was apparently setting the guy off whenever he didn't have full control of his emotions, which set off the Dancer in turn. The amount of guilt and fear had stacked from his constant mismanagement of any relationship, and the idea that the Playmate was always fighting an instinct to always appease him was more than a little alarming. The Icon hadn't helped.

"Nightmares? Fuck, I'm sorry to hear that," he managed, subtly smoothing the crystals that were needling across his hands by drying them with a towel. "What's up?"

Why aren't you talking about this to your motley? Is it about me?

The Fairest leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he stared past the wall and sorted through the memory; like dumping a bag of shattered fragments and trying to fit something together that made enough sense with the context.

It was disconcerting to reflect, and realize how bad it had gotten without him being conscious to it. More anger bubbled as his shoulders hunched and he mentally brushed past it.

As Yuan watched for cues, the Fairest seemed ashamed, and slavishly adhering to giving the Beast space without taking in the very obvious humane cues Yuan was offering. Mitch was the opposite of a social dunce, so it might have been that his own feelings were getting in the way of logic. Distance was a guaranteed measure of control, rather than any resentment angled at the Playmate. Whether it was his Spring philosophy, Arcadian habits, lived trauma, or a deeper influence with his Seeming Yuan wouldn't be able to tell.

Oh! And vanity—he was self-conscious about his scarring and further dramatic shifts to his mien. Either comparing himself to the Playmate, or worried his worth had dropped.

"Umm...Oh, gosh," he covered his face as he coloured, "Kai was asking about something. When Fawkes suddenly pointed you out and potentially involved, I totally used that as an out to bail." His hand dropped as he chuckled, shrugging.

"I can recommend some therapists, if you want," he offered, "With trying to sort that out." Mitch wasn't in the mood to tone-police Yuan's negative choice of words when describing his struggles; the man was already speaking in a second language. 

When it sank in that that wasn't the offer Yuan was looking for, Mitch took a moment to think on it, head turning slightly as the kettle flicked off.

"Fawkes is...good...at pinpointing certain tells from other Vegas Changelings. He's not right a hundred percent of the time, and some people are Wyrder than others, but there's a few things he's pointed out that have been consistent. I had no idea if he was right at Samhain, I was just looking for an excuse to get away from Kai, and spending time with you wasn't exactly pointing a gun to my head." He turned around to start picking through one of the cupboards to put together the drink he had forgotten about.

"I'm not an expert with Kiths, Yuan." That wasn't entirely true—he was thoroughly trained in emotional habits over the occult significance. "I know Playmates are called as much because you were altered to help people, and tend to be a more sensitive to rejection. Not out of a sense of entitlement or, like, being desperate for attention; but where not being useful anymore feels dangerous, and causes a lot of intense anxiety." Mitch timed the steep in his head, wondering why he wasn't a Telluric. The reality was that he didn't actually have perfect timing, but he was good at tricking his brain into thinking he did.

"I also know that the Lost that escaped this specific Keeper," he vaguely gestured to the swirling scarification of his mien without looking at Yuan, "Have a lot of anxiety around failure and ending up on the wrong side of authority."

The Dancer's voided gaze snaps to the movement, turning around from the distraction as he started to fold his arms again, before gripping the edge of the counter to lean instead.

"Um," Mitch's mouth twisted as he didn't have an immediate answer. His finger twitched to start snapping and he clenched the ledge, "N-no you haven't done anything. I... it's like-" the chuckle was more of a hiccup as he scratched the corner of his eye to catch a forming tear, "I think I haven't been mad...in, like...six years, and I didn't know that was a thing until now. And it's been a lot. And it freaks you out. And I'm bad at catching it. And that's not fair to you?"

It wasn't like the Dancer was flipping tables or screaming in public, but to Carr the raised voices and duels it might as well have been. "I don't know if I'm scary now? Or that I'm supposed to be? Then I've blown up relationships before because I'd assume people were fine when they weren't. And with Changelings there's always more to it-" he tapered off, not wanting to sound like he was complaining about his community or the trauma they go through. His mind went to Kai, Fawkes, and Oren the myriad of mixed feelings on that front.

"You don't think it's kind of fucked up that you stop being yourself and switch into a mode when I'm-" Mitch gestured vaguely again, not sure how to describe acting Arcadian. "Then you almost died- and it was like you were begging me to stop being scary- like that was the chief concern," he stammered as his voice broke a bit, taking a moment to continue the train of thought.

"Just- last time. It wasn't you- but I kept being told how they wanted to be around me? Close? Important?" It was never clear what Oren wanted, "And I thought one thing and they thought another and when we dug into why that was a thing it was just this fucked up Keeper programming and I don't know how much control he has in that situation anymore but you know you want to treat people like grown ass adults and understanding themselves because you're not a psychic-"

He blinked, shaking his head as he cut himself off and bit his tongue hard enough to hurt as crystals pierced in arcs from cracking diamond veins.

"I'm okay. Sorry. I'm trying to say you're not losing me, I just think I'm a bad person for wanting to be around you."

Carr shrugged. If he had set off Yuan or was too busted to talk to the other properly he was just proving his own point, and there was a destructive satisfaction in that thought.

The Fairest's eyes widened momentarily at the details of what Yuan had gone through, clenching his jaw as the Beast kept talking as to not interrupt. His hand moved to reach out as Yuan called himself 'clingy' and 'A Lot', before dropping it as the Beast tensed and glancing back at the sink and swallowing the 'sorry' to not make it more awkward for his lapse.

Rather, he simply nodded, letting emotions cool for a moment. "Yeah, no, that sounds like a horrifying experience," he agreed quietly.

A beat.

"Sounds like you're doing better, though, where you're valuing yourself." He kept flicking his attention, torn between distracting himself and coming off as rude or being polite by properly talking to him at the cost of emotional removal; which just seemed to be a cause of distress for Yuan.

"Um, on my end, if you need me to explain where I'm at with...us...? A lot's...happened, and there's a lot of feelings there," he laughed nervously, this time actually crossing his arms to trade off the energy to meet his eyes. "And I'm trying to make sure that this whole thing hasn't just been- under duress? Distance was a good idea- I'm not- that isn't..." his complexion grayed as he contemplated if he would be better off if the Huntsman had caught his head instead of just fucking up his face. "I don't think I can just flip a switch and just be friends? Or, l-like, I can, but I need...time? Public settings or being in a group would help? I used to be better at this," there was an undercurrent of pleading, where it used to be easy and part of his altered nature to just go with whatever status quo the other person wanted. "It's- If this was just a thing where we fooled around and then talked about movies we liked, sure, but then all this shit with the Hedge, and fighting off a Huntsman a couple of times," he picked at the addition of the cold iron scar along the inside of his forearm, "I've done the court stuff and this on my own just fine, and I thought I was good then when you got shot up I realized I'd just been ignoring it rather than being over it? If that makes sense? I never want to put you in a position where you basically can't- I don't want you to be set off by me all the time like disagreeing with me invites-" he blinked, scratching at his eye again to catch forming tears; moving slowly to not startle him or make him think he was going to try and touch him.

"Where you think bad things are going to happen to you if you don't manage me like a Fae?"

Mitch tensed as Yuan closed the gap, startled like a strange animal had just hissed at him. He had to chuckle quietly again to alleviate the fire in his nerves as he forced himself to uncross his arms. He could only shake his head in response to the question if they were going to keep dancing around like idiots, at a loss for words as he related to some things that were coming out of Yuan's perfect annoying mouth—but not everything.

What the hell was going on with him?

"You don't have to fix anything!" he blurted, "Or- like, no one needs you to, Yuan. Working on yourself is fine, if that will make you feel better, but- you're not this terrible person who keeps failing people or scaring them off. You get that, right? I don't think you've ever done anything for anyone to even have the opportunity to think badly of you."

He helplessly ran his hands through his hair, blinking rapidly as he looked around, before he forgot himself and started talking with his hands, "Even if they did, who gives a shit? Your life literally revolves around helping others even when you think they're stupid or dicks! To the point where you're trying to help less. I think you have enough karma stacked where you could get away with kicking a puppy, and people would just assume it probably had it coming."