[it felt cruel. it also felt like something Odin and Peter had to -- do, he guesses. it just would have been -- he doesn't know, something like the too-fullness he felt during their housewarming, to have them there, sharing the holiday that's been sour for so many years, for both of them. but it's not on Odin and Peter, to smooth those tattered edges on Magnus and Alex, and they way they feel about homes and holidays, especially when they'd both gone through some shit. Magnus wouldn't want that put on anybody, doesn't want to be the kind of person that needs to be fixed, or make his damages loudly known]
[so he can't fault them. Magnus supposes not going to the party at Poe's had been his own limit of exhaustion; he'd entrusted Peter to look after Odin, knowing it probably wouldn't turn out exactly well for Odin (didn't need to ask the norns about that one, really). and some of the things Odin says are good -- Maxwell is a solid dude, and Magnus quite enjoys talking to him. Odin doing nice things for people he wasn't romantically attached to is also always a good thing. making out with Peter causes his eyebrows to raise (though Persephone and Jonathan after causes them to lower -- he supposes this is what adults did, at parties, and teens too. he's the weird one, here)]
[some of the things he says aren't as good. some of them are, actually, the fucking worst, and the carols aren't what made it a bad party. Magnus keeps his expression soft, understated. he doesn't want Odin to think he pities him, because he doesn't. he also doesn't want Odin to see -- how mad he feels, that Poe's done something fucking selfish and cowardly again]
Odin...
[Magnus shuffles his grocery bag to the ground, his apples. he puts an arm around his friend, and -- as if to distract from this fact -- kicks his heel, einherjar-hard, against the ground. the wheel goes gently spinning in slow rotations, and he tugs Odin by the shoulder to lay down against the cold metal. the sky is winter-bright and clear above them]
[ there'll be time, now that so many doors have closed on both peter and odin, for the both of them to be there during brighter and better holidays. they'd put so much of themselves on the line to take a hold of things that mattered to them, and now that those futures are gone, swept away by fate or cowardice, it's hard to do anything but heal, when the alternative is to rot. things will ease, in time, one way or another, and magnus and alex will once again get as much of the both of them as they'll allow.
but for now Odin is still selfish, still more of a coward than he thinks Poe would ever be, and if there's any trace of anger to Magnus's expression, he doesn't find it. the inertia of that first spin sends Odin's head to Magnus's shoulder, and he leans back up, desperately grateful for the contact of an arm around him as he always is in moments like these, but not wanting to push things, even accidentally. he lays down on the metal and watches the clouds spin overhead, letting out a long and heavy breath. ]
He kisses like... [ how does he put this, without being cruel to another friend? ] He kisses like a hurricane. A surge of rain, at the height of a storm. A tidal wave, breaking on the face of my cliffs.
[ in other words, wet. super sloppy. drunk and gross. he looks at Magnus, eyebrows raised and eyes open wide, feigning terror. it was the worst. he leaves out the parts where his time with peter skirted dangerously close to feeling -- serious, in a way that it shouldn't have been. ]
... But yeah, he left. Poe. [ he folds his arms over his chest, scratching at his bicep, restless and weary at the same time. ] He's together with the other guy, now. So...
[ he raises a hand, lazily watching his outstretched fingers slowly close in on themselves, like he's trying to grab one of the clouds. he wonders if he'll ever feel okay, flying again. poe had really, really made him want to be a pilot, for a while, but now there's so much distance between him and the sky that he doesn't think he'll ever be able to traverse it. ]
I'm kind of homesick. Is that fucked up, do you think? I left my homeland to fight in another country's war, and even there, I was never homesick. But now - it's like - I don't have that structure. I don't have my Lord, telling me what to do, or... how to feel, how to live. There's no war to fight. Just me. Fucking up. Even fucked up with you, the way I left on Christmas. [ he shrugs, like it's nothing, even though he's-- starting to feel like he did at the start of their relationship, where Magnus was just better than him, and he's a problem by being near him. ]
Just - there's nothing good about me. Not here. I thought there was good about me, for a while. But there's not? I think. I don't-- I'm not good enough to be here. Or-- good enough to know any of you.
[there's a soft snicker (wet and damp is what he hears, about Peter Maximoff's kissing skills), but Magnus quiets, as Odin talks. confesses. apologises. struggles, with how to live outside a war that's defined his entire existence. it makes him think of Thor, clumsy in his comfortable home and with his beautiful wife, but in his element, in the unforgiving snows of Jotunheim, hostility around every ice-tipped corner. survival changed people. causes changed people. it feels unfair, that Odin hadn't gotten the chance to grow up, become his own person, without being a lord in a nation at war or fighting for his life, his family, his cause]
[none of those things are here. Magnus, who has nothing but the people in his afterlife and a crushing weight of responsibility he finds no great nobility in, is of course doing better. war didn't structure his afterlife; it intrudes on it, disrupts it. he's a chosen warrior who hates to war]
You're just becoming a person.
[it sounds -- kind of stupid, probably, but Magnus doesn't think Odin minds, if he sounds stupid. Magnus gently knocks Odin's head back onto his shoulder]
That's what it's like, if you're not stuck in a war or surviving or trying to live up to some nuts ideals. It's just you, fucking up, figuring stuff out. Working out how you need to live, what kind of people should be around you. Or not be around you.
[his fingers fall to Odin's hair, gently tug, like a reminder]
It's hard to find good in yourself, sometimes, but that doesn't mean it isn't there. All the time, not just when you're -- being loved, for what you are or do. Sometimes no one loves you. But you're still you, and you're still good. You have to fight for that. [grey eyes slide to meet Odin's, sharp and peregrine] That's why Alex is so... amazing. Admirable. He knows how to love himself. He fought for himself. So now he's beautiful and strong. You -- and that ass, Poe -- fight for everybody but yourselves.
[he shakes his head, blowing long blond hair out of his face. calm, gentle Magnus says, calmly and gently]
I wanna punch that idiot's jaw off. I might, if I see him around. But it won't change anything, if you don't let yourself matter.
[ It hits him like a hammer to the ribs. You're just becoming a person. He's winded by it, the blow sending everything he's thinking into disarray. He stares, wide eyed, at Magnus, as he struggles to piece two thoughts together. ]
I've never... I haven't ever-- I've never thought of it. Like that. Even though I've been fighting since I was little. That there might be more to me.
[ He lets his head rest against Magnus's shoulder, grateful for the fact that his face his hidden. He feels like crying, honestly, in a way so much different to how he's felt like crying, recently. There's a catharsis, behind the way his eyes burn and behind the way he feels like his throat is closing up. Maybe this is why his dad tried so hard to spend weeks surrounded by nature, with him, or why his mom worked so hard to teach him about the arts. To help him find who he was, before the inevitability of war took ahold of him.
He shakes his head. He can't think about that on top of everything else, but he thinks, maybe, that he will, when all of this is over, and it will help. ]
Poe's not an ass. Or an idiot. Everything that happened between us is my fault.
[ He flicks his eyes to Magnus's, then away. There are a few things he could say, all things he's been able to say at least once before - i'm not good enough for him, he doesn't love me as much as i do him and that's not his fault, there's someone out there worth more to him than i could ever be, he's kind enough to lie like you and think that i matter but a lie's still just a lie-- but it's harder to put all of those thoughts into words, to Magnus, who goes to these great lengths to remind him how special and important he is so often when they speak. So he shuts it down, shrugging his shoulders and leaning a little closer. ]
I wouldn't feel the way I do for him if he wasn't perfect, for me. I wish more of my friends could see what I see in him. I feel like I'm the only one who gets it, sometimes. Or - I did, before I found out someone... I guess-- sees it more? I don't think that's right. I don't think anyone could see him better than I can. But before I found out someone-- before I found out there was someone he sees clearer than he sees me.
But-- yeah. You're right. He, uh. He handles things... very differently to how Alex does.
[ He thinks of the way Alex held him, when he was staying in Fauxhalla, and he considers bringing it up, but he doesn't - maybe Alex has already told Magnus about it, and Odin won't resent him for it if he has, but he'd like to keep it a moment shared just between the two of them. ]
... I don't think anybody is as smart as Alex, though.
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Re: action - new years
[so he can't fault them. Magnus supposes not going to the party at Poe's had been his own limit of exhaustion; he'd entrusted Peter to look after Odin, knowing it probably wouldn't turn out exactly well for Odin (didn't need to ask the norns about that one, really). and some of the things Odin says are good -- Maxwell is a solid dude, and Magnus quite enjoys talking to him. Odin doing nice things for people he wasn't romantically attached to is also always a good thing. making out with Peter causes his eyebrows to raise (though Persephone and Jonathan after causes them to lower -- he supposes this is what adults did, at parties, and teens too. he's the weird one, here)]
[some of the things he says aren't as good. some of them are, actually, the fucking worst, and the carols aren't what made it a bad party. Magnus keeps his expression soft, understated. he doesn't want Odin to think he pities him, because he doesn't. he also doesn't want Odin to see -- how mad he feels, that Poe's done something fucking selfish and cowardly again]
Odin...
[Magnus shuffles his grocery bag to the ground, his apples. he puts an arm around his friend, and -- as if to distract from this fact -- kicks his heel, einherjar-hard, against the ground. the wheel goes gently spinning in slow rotations, and he tugs Odin by the shoulder to lay down against the cold metal. the sky is winter-bright and clear above them]
I bet Peter kisses like an idiot.
Re: action - new years
but for now Odin is still selfish, still more of a coward than he thinks Poe would ever be, and if there's any trace of anger to Magnus's expression, he doesn't find it. the inertia of that first spin sends Odin's head to Magnus's shoulder, and he leans back up, desperately grateful for the contact of an arm around him as he always is in moments like these, but not wanting to push things, even accidentally. he lays down on the metal and watches the clouds spin overhead, letting out a long and heavy breath. ]
He kisses like... [ how does he put this, without being cruel to another friend? ] He kisses like a hurricane. A surge of rain, at the height of a storm. A tidal wave, breaking on the face of my cliffs.
[ in other words, wet. super sloppy. drunk and gross. he looks at Magnus, eyebrows raised and eyes open wide, feigning terror. it was the worst. he leaves out the parts where his time with peter skirted dangerously close to feeling -- serious, in a way that it shouldn't have been. ]
... But yeah, he left. Poe. [ he folds his arms over his chest, scratching at his bicep, restless and weary at the same time. ] He's together with the other guy, now. So...
[ he raises a hand, lazily watching his outstretched fingers slowly close in on themselves, like he's trying to grab one of the clouds. he wonders if he'll ever feel okay, flying again. poe had really, really made him want to be a pilot, for a while, but now there's so much distance between him and the sky that he doesn't think he'll ever be able to traverse it. ]
I'm kind of homesick. Is that fucked up, do you think? I left my homeland to fight in another country's war, and even there, I was never homesick. But now - it's like - I don't have that structure. I don't have my Lord, telling me what to do, or... how to feel, how to live. There's no war to fight. Just me. Fucking up. Even fucked up with you, the way I left on Christmas. [ he shrugs, like it's nothing, even though he's-- starting to feel like he did at the start of their relationship, where Magnus was just better than him, and he's a problem by being near him. ]
Just - there's nothing good about me. Not here. I thought there was good about me, for a while. But there's not? I think. I don't-- I'm not good enough to be here. Or-- good enough to know any of you.
Re: action - new years
[none of those things are here. Magnus, who has nothing but the people in his afterlife and a crushing weight of responsibility he finds no great nobility in, is of course doing better. war didn't structure his afterlife; it intrudes on it, disrupts it. he's a chosen warrior who hates to war]
You're just becoming a person.
[it sounds -- kind of stupid, probably, but Magnus doesn't think Odin minds, if he sounds stupid. Magnus gently knocks Odin's head back onto his shoulder]
That's what it's like, if you're not stuck in a war or surviving or trying to live up to some nuts ideals. It's just you, fucking up, figuring stuff out. Working out how you need to live, what kind of people should be around you. Or not be around you.
[his fingers fall to Odin's hair, gently tug, like a reminder]
It's hard to find good in yourself, sometimes, but that doesn't mean it isn't there. All the time, not just when you're -- being loved, for what you are or do. Sometimes no one loves you. But you're still you, and you're still good. You have to fight for that. [grey eyes slide to meet Odin's, sharp and peregrine] That's why Alex is so... amazing. Admirable. He knows how to love himself. He fought for himself. So now he's beautiful and strong. You -- and that ass, Poe -- fight for everybody but yourselves.
[he shakes his head, blowing long blond hair out of his face. calm, gentle Magnus says, calmly and gently]
I wanna punch that idiot's jaw off. I might, if I see him around. But it won't change anything, if you don't let yourself matter.
Re: action - new years
I've never... I haven't ever-- I've never thought of it. Like that. Even though I've been fighting since I was little. That there might be more to me.
[ He lets his head rest against Magnus's shoulder, grateful for the fact that his face his hidden. He feels like crying, honestly, in a way so much different to how he's felt like crying, recently. There's a catharsis, behind the way his eyes burn and behind the way he feels like his throat is closing up. Maybe this is why his dad tried so hard to spend weeks surrounded by nature, with him, or why his mom worked so hard to teach him about the arts. To help him find who he was, before the inevitability of war took ahold of him.
He shakes his head. He can't think about that on top of everything else, but he thinks, maybe, that he will, when all of this is over, and it will help. ]
Poe's not an ass. Or an idiot. Everything that happened between us is my fault.
[ He flicks his eyes to Magnus's, then away. There are a few things he could say, all things he's been able to say at least once before - i'm not good enough for him, he doesn't love me as much as i do him and that's not his fault, there's someone out there worth more to him than i could ever be, he's kind enough to lie like you and think that i matter but a lie's still just a lie-- but it's harder to put all of those thoughts into words, to Magnus, who goes to these great lengths to remind him how special and important he is so often when they speak. So he shuts it down, shrugging his shoulders and leaning a little closer. ]
I wouldn't feel the way I do for him if he wasn't perfect, for me. I wish more of my friends could see what I see in him. I feel like I'm the only one who gets it, sometimes. Or - I did, before I found out someone... I guess-- sees it more? I don't think that's right. I don't think anyone could see him better than I can. But before I found out someone-- before I found out there was someone he sees clearer than he sees me.
But-- yeah. You're right. He, uh. He handles things... very differently to how Alex does.
[ He thinks of the way Alex held him, when he was staying in Fauxhalla, and he considers bringing it up, but he doesn't - maybe Alex has already told Magnus about it, and Odin won't resent him for it if he has, but he'd like to keep it a moment shared just between the two of them. ]
... I don't think anybody is as smart as Alex, though.