nexus_crossings | (no subject)

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Orym had thought he'd gotten used to having weird things happening around him. Between the Crown Keepers and Bells Hells, he was getting good with smoothly adjusting to new situations and moving through them easily. The Nexus though throws the normally unflappable halfing for a loop and he looks around him trying to take everything in.

He's three feet tall and a bit with short brown hair that runs to the spiky side. His clothing is very earthy in greens and browns and on his back is a circular shield and a short sword. The only odd thing on his person is a blue rose that appears, on closer inspection to be snapping with electrical energy.

Orym wanders for a bit before finding what looked like a tavern to him. With an ease that spoke of many years of dealing with buildings that are meant for people bigger than he was, he walks in scrambles onto a stool and orders a drink sipping it for a few moments before the question pops out of his mouth.

"If you lost someone you loved and then had the chance to love again...would you take the chance or would you let it go." He is gently touching the rose on his belt as he says this looking sad.

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"I lost my Par'Mach'kai to a cowardly Cardassian. She was my wife yet I still believe a man can love even after losing their mate. I know in my heart that she journeyed to Sto-vo-korr. The Klingon afterlife."

Worf looked down at the young creature asking him the question. A huge Klingon at 6'4" must seem imposing to a halfling. Yet, the warrior was no stranger to meeting different races having served in Starfleet for many years now. He was on leave from DS9 and was making the most of it.

"You have lost someone you once loved?"

Orym is used to being around people and creatures taller than him, so the taller creature doesn't bother him in the slightest. It's what he says that gives Orym pause. It was like this place had brought him to this moment to find someone who understood his pain and his indecision. He drinks a bit more and then nods, his normally calm voice a bit rougher around the edges.

"Yes," he says, "my husband...died six years ago....our people were attacked and he died protecting our leader." For all his assurances that both he and Will understood what their jobs meant and what they would have to do, the loss still hurt, so deeply even after all this time.

The drow hums in thought, twirling a silvery white strand of hair around their finger. They are actually trying out some safe looking food from the pub. They hazarded a guess that it's some kind of potato?

They aren't too tall themselves, though 5'5' is still doing well for a dark elf. Still, out of habit, they lean on the bar, bringing themselves closer in height to Orym.

"It's hard to really say myself. I have many, many years left to live if I manage it. Eighty is still rather young for elves of any stripe. So take my thoughts as that from a still naïve child if you wish. One who hasn't gotten very far past crushing on those who are nice enough to them."

That disclaimer out of the way...

"Yes. I would take a chance on it. If only to see the shape it takes. I would do it. I would probably still agonize over it and pull my hair but in the end, as I am now, I'd want to take that chance."

Orym smiles kindly at the young elf seeing quite a bit of Dorien in him. That makes him sad for a moment because of how much he misses his friend. "I want to take the chance too," he admits. "But I'm afraid.....I've already lost so much in my life that I'm afraid of losing more."

He sighs and shakes his head. "I'm sure I'm being silly, but I just don't want to get hurt again."

"Mm. It's an understandable fear...but...answer me this...think back to the first time you realized you were in love. If you had know how it all would end, how it all would go...would you still have loved anyway?"

And...just gonna push their platter of food over to offer to the halfling. Maybe its chips? Poutine? All Tar knows is that it's salty and potato-y!

"I think that holds the answer to your current dilemma right there."

Orym eyes the food for a second and then mentally decided fuck it he's eaten worse in his life and takes some using the moment to chew to think of the answer to the question. "Yes," he answers his voice rough with grief as he remembers Will and how much their years together meant to him.

"I'd love my husband just as much as I did then...maybe more because I'd know how short our time was together," he admits. He swallows. "his death set me on the path I'm on now as much as it hurts."

Good news! It really is just fried potatoes and cheese curds! Well, if Orym likes that sort of thing.

Tar listens intently, ears slightly twitching as they take in the small man's words. The smile on their face is soft, sad, as they gently reach over to pat him on his back. "You have half your answer there then, I think. In spite of the pain you feel now, you'd do it again with him. Why not allow it to happen one more time?" And then softly, an after thought because what is proper social etiquette for this stuff? "I'm sorry to hear about that sir...about your loss."

Edited 2022-04-01 04:24 (UTC)

"Please call me Orym," the fighter replies, "sir makes me feel old and I am certainly not that." He chuckles a bit and pops one of the potatoes in his mouth. He chews and makes a note to try more food from this odd place....it's one of the things he likes about traveling....all the new experiences he's gotten to have. "And thank you...it's been six years and the hurt is still very real."

He smiles a bit. "Dorian...my new...chance he's young like you...there is so much more of the world he should see before he settles down...as much as I care about him...I also want him to know what he wants and if that's not me...well."

"Orym. It's a pleasure. I am Tarach'and, you can call me Tar." They chuckle and keep nibbling on the potatoes as well, nodding as they listen along. "It's understandable though...if you are still just in general mourning. You can't let people tell you when to stop being sad...but being hurt? If we stopped ourselves from doing anything for fear of pain, why, the populations of all the peoples of the world would die out, I'm sure!"

They are almost, almost tempted to rub their forehead against Orym's. Like a cat. The man just seems so small and in need of it. But they have to remember...boundaries! BOUNDARIES! So they just gently pat his shoulder again. "You want him to get it, to come to the conclusion on his own?"

An artist who had been sitting nearby quietly, takes a moment to reflect on Orym's question. Before he sets his canvas aside, and stands up to walk forward.

Hunter is 6 foot tall. And he is completely bald (no eyebrows or anything). He has these twisting thorn tattoos that cover any exposed skin on his arms, and his face. He has a large silver tree piercing that starts on the bridge of his nose, and covers a good portion of his forehead.

"I took the chance." He replies to the question. Nodding to the bartender to bring over another drink for both of them.

"And I am glad I did. I can not imagine my life without the man I am with now."

"And it didn't replace or remove the memories of the lover I had before. It is different. Unique. Poetry."

Orym takes the drink with a slight smile. The odd look of other man doesn't phase him. One of his best friends is a six foot tall faun and the other is bright blue and floats when he's happy. "I know I should take the leap and part of me wants to more than anything but I keep coming up with reasons to keep silent. I don't know why I won't take that step."

He sighs. "My husband would want me to be happy, but I'm so used to the hurt that I'm afraid to let it go."

"That can be a struggle. I know how it feels to just want to stay hurt." Hunter swirls his glass, watching the ice clink together for a moment.

"In this sort of situation, it has to come from you... you have to feel ready."

"What was the turning point for you," Orym asked curious to know, "when did you know you were ready?"

"It was actually... a witch's curse." Hunter holds out an arm, that has a large rose bush tattoo on it. The thorns of the tattoo twist and turn for a moment.

"The fact that he was there for me, the entire time. And never gave up on me. Even when I tried to push him away. He stood by my side, and helped me break the curse."

Molly was plunked at the bar himself, perking slightly at the question because god damn but did that sound like a story to be had there. But the gentle sort of tone it was asked with tempered his initial idea of being a little shit about it, and Orym would be treated to the rare sight, not that he realizes it, of Mollymauk Tealeaf actually thinking before he speaks.

"I think I would," He began, with a faint shrug. "Think of it this way- if it was you that was gone and your love was still alive, would you rather they pine away the rest of their lives alone, or would you rather they find love and joy? I bet your darling dearest would be pleased you found a chance at happiness again."

Orym considered the tefling thoughtfully. He's reminded of both Ferne and Ashton when he looks at him. The colors and and the kindness and the hesitation as if he'd been about to say something else and then stopped himself. Though he doubted Ashton would have hesitated or spoken so...cleanly.

"I...want to," he admitted somewhat shy, "but I'm not....I'm not sure how to bring it up....the person in question is dealing with...things...and I'm not sure if now is the right time...when we aren't in the same place right now."

He sighed. "It's complicated..."

That comment earned a short little laugh from the tiefling.

"Well if you're waiting for life to not be so complicated, you're gonna be waiting a long fuckin' time," Molly pointed out, quite sensibly in his own opinion. "Like... okay real talk, long story short I died. Sucked, but that's to be expected. What wasn't expected was the wizard who I'd thought was maybe too messed up to try anything with at that point, really wanted to try something. He wound up here so happy ending there, but there was definitely regret before that. Why risk putting yourself or your interest through that shit? Best time is when you can get the words out. Could wind up knowing you feel like that gives your 'person of interest' the boost they need in a hard situation."

Orym thought about it. He did have the sending stone...at least he would when he went home....maybe he could start small using the 25 word limit. But Dorian was with the rest of the Crown Keepers and the highly perceptive hafling knew Dariax had a crush on the air gensai too. He sighed again.

"Why are feelings so complicated?"

That drew another laugh from Molly, tail flicking behind him with a jingle.

"Buddy, you're asking the wrong tiefling for that kinda insight!" He replied in a sympathetically amused tone. "There's a short list of things I know about, and that's not on it, sad to say."

Orym laughed too. "I know even less than you do," he admitted quietly, "when I met...Will I just knew he was meant to be mine.....with Dorien it's less clear because it's been so long since I've been with anyone that I'm just...I'm off my feet if that makes sense."

"I get that," And he does, even if more from hearing others speak of such things. "But I think you should talk to this Dorian of yours. For all you know he might feel the same, but just feel like he's waiting for you to show interest because, oh... he doesn't wanna make things weird if you're not interested, or doesn't want to poke at a sore spot."

Molly lifted a pair of fingers to request another drink for himself and his conversation buddy. "Seems it'd be a shame to lose a chance to be happy over hesitating."

He remembers how twisted around Caleb was about him. About how much missing that chance had clearly hurt the wizard. It'd be a good thing to help this halfling avoid making the same mistake.

Orym sighed, something he's been doing a lot since meeting his friends. It's a hazard when you have one of the few brain cells of your parties. "Dorian is young," he admits, "he's lived a sheltered life....he deserves to see more of the world than he has and part of the reason I haven't said something is because I want him to be sure.....an older widower is what he wants....there are so many people out there.....he shouldn't just settle for the first person he meets."

He knows he's making up reasons, but he means it as well. He'd rather lose his friend to someone else than have the kind, gentle air gensai choose him and then regret it.

"And what if he just knows?" Molly pointed out, surprisingly sensibly. "What makes him just knowing any different than you just knowing?"

A beat, and then-

"Please tell me this isn't some self-worth issue because older widower or no, have you seen yourself?"

"Once he knows....I can't put the feelings back in the bottle," Orym points out after taking a long sip of his drink, "he knows about Will about how much it hurt to lose him....I don't want him to think....he's so unsure of himself....I don't want him to think I'm pushing him or worse forcing myself to move on."

He takes a longer drink. "I'm just a guard...he's an actual prince.....what in the Nine Hells could I offer him?"

And there it is....one of the real reasons Orym is hesitating....ever since learning the truth about Dorian's background....how could a simple Ashrai guard offer a prince of the Silkan Squall

"Well clearly you're good enough to be his friend."

Molly is debating if it would be maybe a little rude to bodily lift the halfling and shake some sense into him. It probably would be. Better not.

"If you're not pushing him, or forcing yourself to move on, then just tell him. That sounds more like you making excuses for not admitting feelings than anything else. Maybe he likes you just as much. Maybe the fact that you're someone who sees him as just Dorian first is a bonus point in your favor."

"I know Dorian," Orym replied quickly, "I don't know Bronte...I never knew that version of him and the little I saw.....it didn't really fit," the halfing said, "like a skin that wasn't his to wear." That whole party mission was a mess in of itself and had led to Dorian leaving them, so he wasn't inclined to think well of it.

He groans quietly. "I know I'm making this complicated....but it feels complicated."

"Shit, isn't everything complicated in the long run? Life and everything?"

Molly huffed sympathetically, pondering. "I think though in this case you're adding complication that shouldn't be. At least... not on your own. This seems like something you talk to Dorian about, no matter how uncertain you are. Maybe it'll clear things up. Maybe he feels the same but is uncertain about how to approach things now that you've seen that other part of him."

Oyrm looks sad. "He isn't with us right now," he said, "he had to leave...because his brother got into trouble...and Dorian chose to leave to help him. I...don't know when or if I'll see him again."

Maybe that is why he kept coming up with reasons not to say anything. Maybe it would make missing his friend hurt less if he ended up never seeing him again.

"So you're gonna pine miserably and suffer through what-ifs?" Molly huffed a low tone, shaking his head. "That'll suck for you and for him if he realizes. Better to speak up, even if all you can do is write him."

The tiefling offers a faint smile. "Tell me more about him anyways. This Dorian guy must be pretty great to have a guy like you so around the bend over him."

Orym nods, making a note to get the sending stone back from Fearne when he returns and find a quiet moment before the heist to just...say what is in his heart. Hopefully he doesn't shoot himself in the foot and ruin everything.

He smiles at the question. "He's a bard...an air gensai...we met in Emon and he's..he's not like any bard you might have met before. He's quiet and calm, but unsure of himself.....but brave...he's almost died a few times just to protect a friend"

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