12035/If You Weren't You Anymore...

If You Weren't You Anymore...
Date of Scene:	15 July 2022
Location:	Hengitsbury Head, Bournemouth, England
Synopsis:	Jon and Cael discuss trust, and love, and misunderstandings. And make terrible jokes.
Cast of Characters:	Cael Becker, Jonathan Sims

---

Cael Becker has posed:
    In the wake of Agatha's departure, Cael lapses into silence. Her gaze is, obstensibly, on Bear and Agnes playing in the water, where Bear is snapping at splashes of water but failing to catch anything - but she isn't really watching either of them as she turns over thoughts in her head, her expression grim. She continues to nibble at her fish and chips which are slowly but steadily disappearing. She should just banish dark thoughts from her head - after all, perhaps Chas would talk Jon out of this entirely...
    But it lingers.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon's quiet, too, thoughtful, seemingly staring out over the ocean, though at this point it's hard to say whether he's really focused on the ocean or perceiving the beach around him at all. Sometimes, in the last few days, it's seemed like he can see everything around him with eerie precision, and sometimes it seems like he truly is completely blind. Usually it's somewhere in between, like he's operating off echolocation or something.

    He finishes off one of the pieces of fish, then says, abruptly cutting into the silence, "I think I've figured out why I'm so hungry all the time. I'm just not sure what to--do about it."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael blinks, her own thoughts interrupted as she turns to look towards Jon. "What do you mean?" she asks. "I- you sorta... you came back from the desert hungry." It had started to get a little better for a time, though. Hadn't it? It was a little hard to really track the trajectory - she hadn't exacty kept precise notes.
    "Do you need some of mine?" she asks, tilting the paper cone towards them.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon shakes their head. "No, this is fine. It's, umm. It's my body, I think. It's... I mean, I'm not exactly... I don't know /what/ I'm made of, but I doubt it's carbon and water and all the rest of what people are usually made of, anymore." He lifts a chip. "I think that certain foods are less... nourishing to me, in whatever way I need to be nourished, now. So I'll eat what ought to be a filling meal, but it's not giving me whatever it is I actually /need/. Or at least, not enough of that."

    A pause. "I, ahh--I had actually started using my own summoned water for pretty much... everything? Drinking, cooking--any time I was going to be consuming water. I'd been less thirsty, and when I cooked food using that water it was more filling. And then I lost my magic, at least in the normal world, and I found myself summoning water in the Velvet Room just to feel quenched. I don't know what that means, exactly? I don't think it's just 'I have to make my own food.' Agnes' cookies were surprisingly filling. But..." He shrugs, and pops the chip into his mouth.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Why would Agnes' cookies be more filling than- well, than anything else?" Cael asks, looking out towards the girl for a moment, then back towards Jon once more. "She doesn't use any magic when she's making them. ...does she?" She frowns in thought, reaching out to put her hand on Jon's arm, her expression thoughtful.
    "So if your summoned water is more filling then... why? Is it just that it's magically enhanced? Now how do we get you more of that in the meanwhile?" she asks.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I don't know," Jon admits. "Maybe because she does it by hand? Because she's doing it specifically /for/ me? The fish and chips the other day, from Frank's--they were more filling than these." He waggles another chip. "But Frank knows me. So maybe it's that? But then--" He sighs. "I don't know. I need to figure this out. Figure out what I'm made of, now. What I even... am."

    They lean in toward her touch, sighing again. "I'm sorry, love. I know this bothers you. Me not being... human anymore. But it was the only way back to you."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael's silent for a moment, then she says quietly, "It's the intention. Like with Alis' photo - with the pancakes. Agnes thinks about you when she makes the cookies. Frank was thinking of you, and Alya, and Alya's baby." Her gaze is fixed down at the sand, and she can feel almost palably the desire to play with her food. To push something around with her fork.
    Too bad it's fish and chips.
    She tilts her head towards the kiss, and shoves another chip into her mouth. She chews and swallows that before she adds fiercely. "You're //here.// You're... //yourself// - that's what matters to me, Jon. Even if the rest of it confuses me."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Maybe so," Jon says. "I expect it's more than just that, given the magical water, but I suspect that's part of it."

    He sighs, then, and says, "But you're worried about me being myself. About all these... influences. I don't quite know what you mean, but--" A shrug. "And I don't know what it is that worries you? I mean, the other day, when you kept insisting that the other me isn't /really/ me--were you afraid I'd run off to some other timeline because I miss it? Afraid I'd suddenly change and not know you anymore?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "No," Cael answers. "No, nothing like that, Jon, I just-" Cael frowns, going silent as she tries to think of how to explain it. "I don't want you to feel like //his// mistakes are //your// mistakes. Like you carry any of that weight, that guilt or shame. And I don't want you to feel like- it's fate. Like you don't have any choice, you don't have any control. That- it's happened before, and that's how you responed, so of course that's how it'll happen again. You know?"
    She takes a deep breath in, letting it slowly as she continues. "I just- you're the only Jon I know, the only one I care to know. What came before- none of that matters to me - not really. I mean, if it helps us understand thsse things so we can stop them - great. But I don't need to know any of what //that// Jon did because- I know you. And that's all that matters me. What we do in the here and now - and who you are now. Right now."
    Her gaze goes to Jon as she asks, "I mean, that makes sense. Doesn't it?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "To you, yes, I suppose it does. But I can see the threads, Cael. Maybe not the literal threads, but--" Jon hums softly. "You know how you worry about what you might have been, if you hadn't gotten out of the Alhambras? Who you might have become? Well, that man, that Archivist, that /Jon/? That's who I could have become, in those circumstances. I think--I /think/--that he's who I /was/, once. A past life. And if so? Then yes--I am absolutely responsible for his mistakes. I am responsible for paying his kharma, because it's /my/ kharma. Because that's part of the purpose of my life, paying off the balance sheet for his debts."

    A shrug. "But even if not? Even if it's just another timeline, an alternate version of me--it's still something I could have been. Even moreso, maybe, because then there's no lessons that were learned. It's a lesson, all in itself. To be grateful I live in the world I do. That I have a responsibility to stop these things, because I /can/. Because we even have the hope of doing so."

    He turns to look at Cael. "And it's not fair, for you to not want me to feel--how I feel. Things are bad, Cael. They are /bad/. That doesn't mean I'm giving up. But if I'm not allowed to feel the hurt, or the despair, or... whatever I'm feeling... if I can't process that, and figure out what to do with it, then how can I make good decisions?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    The comparison is an apt one, and Cael can't help but nod in response - before realizing that Jon may, or may not be aware of that reaction. It's still strange trying to figure out how he 'sees' things without eyes. "Okay," she says in reply, taking one of her chips tearing off little pieces of it to toss towards a seagull.
    As Jon continues speaking, though, she turns to give them a sharp look. "Is that what you- No," she protests. "No, of //course// you can feel what you feel. I just... don't want want you to wallow in it for too long. I want- I'm trying to understand how best to help you, and keep you well, and support you and if I flub hat sometimes, you know my intentions were good but- whatever you're feeling, it's okay to feel it. I just- I'm still trying to figure out how I feel, and how much of this I even understand, and how do I really help you, if I don't-"
    She lifts one hand, running it through her hair as she adds in frustration, "It's a mess."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon hums again, thoughtfully, eating a chip or two. "So--okay, so, since I have actual training in this--the best thing in that kind of situation is, first, to validate what someone's feeling. You can rarely go wrong, starting out with that. So like, umm, first, find out how they're feeling. And if they're not that upset then great. If they are, validate that. Like, 'Yeah, that sounds tough, seeing another universe version of yourself. Want to talk about it?' And then you get to the reassurances once you've heard someone out."

    A pause. "There's actually a term--toxic postivity. A lot of people do it, the propensity to jump right to 'it'll be okay!!' Well, yes, eventually, but it isn't /now/, and how I'm going to get to 'okay' and even 'good' is by accepting 'bad' for the time being. And what people need, often, is something called 'mirroring.' They don't need to be cheered up. They need to be /validated/. They need to know that what they're feeling, right then, is okay, and valid, and reasonable. So you jumping right to 'well that's not you'--it doesn't tell me that you don't want me to wallow. It tells me you don't want me to be upset /at all/. And I know that's not what you mean--but that's what gets communicated."

    He turns his head toward Cael. "Remember when you'd just been tortured by Michael, and I was helping, because I told you it was okay that you were hurting? That's what I was doing. Mirroring, and validating, very deliberately. Because it /was/ okay, and you needed to know that. We're social creatures. We adapt to the people around us."

    Then their cheeks flush darker and they clear their throat. "Umm. Well. Umm. Yes. Anyway. So. I'm confused by it myself, a bit, and I'm--more than a little terrified, but I'm trying to think through it all. Figure out what to... do." They hesitate, and pick up another chip. "I know you don't like my initial plan."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I'm sorry, Jon," Cael says quietly. "I'm sorry I'm so awful at this. Of course it's okay to feel anything you're feeling. It's okay to be scared, or mad, or confused, or- I don't know. Any of it. I- I want to be there for you, like you were for me. I mean- I //am// here, I just- I'm trying, and I don't mean to fuck it up, because you know there's nothing much that matters more to me than helping you get back to okay - somehow. Someday." Tears streak her cheeks, and she lifts a hand to brush them away irritably.
    At the mention of Jon's plan, she starts tearing at another chip, and tosses it bit by bit towards a few waiting seagulls. "No, I don't," she admits quietly. "It terrifies me. I mean, maybe you have it right - I don't know. But it just sounds so risky."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Well, that's why I'm trying to help you learn how to do it better," Jon says with a faint smile. "Even if I'm going on and /on/. I just mean... these things, they /do/ have a hold on me, Cael, like it or not. And the way out, at least with the Watcher, is..." They lift their hand to their sunglasses. "And it... hurts. I mean, literally, it /hurt/. And it's cut me off from almost everything I am. I don't know what to do, besides something terribly dangerous, and that's /terrifying/. And I... I need to be able to just... be terrified. I don't need cheering up. I don't need reassurance. I just need... comfort. That it's okay that I'm desperately afraid."

    Their brow furrows briefly. "You know, the funny part is? I think I'm closer to okay, right now, than I was six months ago. Even just last month. I needed to let go, stop trying so hard to hold everything together. Just be myself, for whatever that means."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Of course it's okay to be scared, Jon. I'm scared - but I'm here. I'm here with you. And I'll always be here with you, and- whatever it takes, I'll do whatever I can to help you, and keep you safe, and bring you home to Agnes in the end," Cael vows, her tone impassioned and intense.
    "No matter what happens, no matter what you decide, no matter how you play this... I love you, and I'm with you, and nothing can change that." But was that entirely true? "Only..."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I know, Cael. I know. I wish..." Jon's brow furrows again. "I wish I could figure out what it is that I need to hear you say. Because that's all good, and helping, but there's just--I don't know. Maybe it's me. I wish I knew exactly what to tell you to say about all of this. Exactly what I need." A sigh. "Maybe that you believe in me? Trust me? I don't know."

    Then they tilt their head. "Only...? Only what?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I believe in //you,// I trust //you,//" Cael says fiercely.
    As he gently presses her, she tears up more of the chips, her gaze still locked onto the nearby seagulls as she tosses piece after piece, focusing on //that// as much as she can, rather than the painful words coming out of her mouth. "The thing that scares me the most is how these... things? These fears? Might somehow influence you or change you. Especially if you- If you join with them. If you try to trick them. I just- I'm with you, Jon. I will //always// be with you. You, the person you are now. The person I love. But if somehow they manage to-"
    She's out of chips. Hell. "I mean, I'm with you as long as you're someone that the person you are now would recognize. As long as you're- as long as your moral compass holds true, but if somehow you became something that you wouldn't recognize or condone... if you veer too far from what //my// Jon would think is right... I'd stop you, somehow. I'd stop you, and hopefully find a way to save you."
    Despite her fumbling and meandering path to those words - her tone becomes fierce and determined at the end.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "What if it turns out--I'm not the Jon you think I am? I'm missing something important in my memories, Cael. And I'm still figuring out what I really believe is /right/. Not what someone else thinks I should believe is right, but--"

    Jon frowns. Reaches up his left hand, presses it to his chest. "The /ma'at/ I conceive in my heart," he murmurs. "That's... hmm. I hadn't thought of it that way before, but that's what it is, isn't it?"

    A sigh, and a shake of the head. "I know it worries you. It worried me. And certainly if I'm--look, if it turns out, with those missing memories, I'd be some kind of monster that wants to destroy the world, then certainly, I'm with you, it's just..."

    They turn to 'stare' out at the ocean again. "I don't think it bothers me that you say that. Not really. I think it bothers me that you say you believe in me, and trust me--but then you talk about everything 'influencing' me. As if... I don't know. As if I can't be trusted to be myself, in the face of that influence."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "You're a strong person, Jon. But there are terrible, strong forces out there who can rob us of who we are. Who can change us, and- I mean, like what Michael did to me. It was temporary. But do you think he didn't have the power to make it permanent?" Cael points out bluntly. "And- sure, not everything out there is as strong as he is. Maybe... nothing out there is as strong as he is, but do you believe there's nothing out there that's more powerful than you are, by yourself? I just- I don't think it's a condemnation of //you,// I don't think it shows any lack of trust in //you,// if I worry that- that there might be forces trickier, more deceitful, more manipulative, and more //powerful// than you realize."
    She runs a hand through her hair in frustration, wondering if she's even finding the right words to express what she thinks - and what she feels. Words just don't communicate things perfectly. "What I don't believe is that there's any memory locked away in your mind that's powerful enough to over-ride who you are now. Not completely. Whatever that memory is - you'll find it, and we'll make room for it, somehow, no matter what it is. And maybe it'll give you some sort of new insight, or slightly modify your morals, or your perspective.
    "But Jon - I don't think it's going to change who you are, fundamentally. It owuldn't make you the sort of person who'd side with Michael to destroy creation. It wouldn't make you the sort of person who would harm children, or start taking advantage of your friends or loved ones in nefarious ways. I just- that just won't happen."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "But you said 'influences,' Cael. You didn't say--look, it's reasonable to be worried about the Old Gods. They've already whispered in my mind, made me do things I didn't intend. I'm going to talk to Chas. I'm /worried/ about that. But the way you said it--every time you turn around, there's some new 'influence' on me."

    Jon raises a brow, looks to Cael. "Is that a distrust of me, and what I'm going through? Or is that your own fear talking? Because it's--" A pause, and he drums his fingers on his knee.

    "No, I think--I think you should explain what you mean, first. Because you're generalizing, and there must be a reason for it."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I trust you," Cael insists - and there's a little frustration - perhaps even anger leaking into her voice. "I don't know if it's- if I'm just saying things wrong, or if you- if there's something in you that makes it so impossible to believe that- but it feels like every time I turn around, you're questioning my //trust.//" And it hurts. Her fists ball up tightly, and she has to fight the urge to start pacind around on the sand, very publicly, or even to stride away. "I trust you," she repeats.
    But what can she say to make him believe that, that she hasn't already said? Why doesn't Jon believe in //her//?
    She's silent for several deep, heavy breaths, her face turned away from Jon before she can continue. "It was the Archive first - just... //being// the Archivist. I know that happened before I even met you, but- you can't tell me it hasn't changed or influenced you in some ways. And then it was becoming Ma'at's avatar. And I'm not saying that I really blame you, or dislike, or mistrust either of those things. But now- now these 'Old Ones,' these 'Fears.' And maybe even this 'past life' - I don't know. I don't know, Jon, it just- it feels like a lot, and- and it's probably just my own fear. My own insecurity. You know how I am, I- I couldn't hold onto the amulet because- I don't like to be influenced. I don't like to be changed. And if I- if that, if all this, if it means I don't trust you, then- I don't trust myself, either. I imagine I trust myself... even less." Tearss streak slowly down her cheeks as she talks, her face still turned away.
    Why does he doubt her? Was it her fault?

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon sighs. "It's just--Cael, that's... I /am/ the Archivist, for one? Don't you get it? I was always meant to be. That's what I mean, when I say it feels like you don't trust me. Because two of those things, those are part of me. The Archivist, and--and Ma'at."

    They pause. They swallow. "I've been... resentful of her, frustrated with her, but it's because she reflects me. I reflect her. I am her avatar for a /reason/. But even just--Cael, I am the Archivist. I am /the/ Archivist. What the Archive was created for, it was to stop immortal beings from hurting mortals. To judge those who cannot die. And I did that to the /ultimate/ being. To the creator of this universe. So when you talk about these 'influences' on me--that's just me. Or it's things I have /chosen/. So it sounds like you don't trust /me/. Do you see?"

    A long pause. Then, "Cael, whatever mythical 'Jon' you think existed without the Archive, without the Archivist, without magic and Ma'at--the closest thing I know to that is the 'past life' Jon. The /other/ Jon. I have always had magic. I was tapped for the Archive at the age of eight. Maybe earlier. I learned about the Egyptian gods--" They stop, and frown. When /did/ they learn about that? It's a hole in their memory. Odd.

    Then a shake of the head. "My point is--I don't know how you can say you believe in /me/, trust in /me/, but not the Archivist. How you can trust in me but not my worship of Ma'at. It's--I mean, people change, yes. They are influenced. Do you mistrust England? Bournemouth? My family? My friends? That's all /any/ of this is, where it isn't just... me."

    He frowns. "I just... I don't know who you think I... am. And I don't..." A sigh. "You question me, Cael. Constantly. And it's not that that's bad, but it's--you don't /think/ you're questioning my core beliefs, the /core/ of who I am, but you /are/. And I don't know why you can't... see that."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Abruptly, Cael is out of her seat, and pacing on the sand. Try as she might to keep her aggitation contained, it was too much. Maybe it was her own, inherently restless and volitile nature.
    Maybe it was the size of the moon, still nearly full.
    She hugs her arms to herself, and forces herself to speak quietly through gritted teeth, rather than shout her aggitation out to the entire beach in some public spectacle. "I just said - I just said that I don't mistrust Ma'at, or the Archive. I //just// said that. I don't- I don't understand why it's so awful to say that those things influence, or change you. You weren't always the Archivist. You weren't. Are you saying becoming the Archivist //didn't// change you? Because I doubt that. Not all influences are bad. Not all- I don't-"
    She stops in place, turned away from Jon, hugging her arms tightly around her middle. "I don't know what you want me to say. But this is- What? The third, or... maybe fourth time you've accused me of not trusting you, and everytime I think I've finally cleared it up, I've finally put it to bed-
    "Yes, I question - because I love you. Because I want you to be strong, and true to yourself. Because... unquestioning love, and unquestioning trust is- is blind." She winces even as she says it. "Is unhealthy. I question because I care, and I worry, and because I want you to be the best person that you can be." But is their love not strong enough for that? She went to Duat for them - twice. How is that still not proof enough?

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Because--because you say it like it is, to you," Jon says, slowly, brow furrowed. "Because I thought that's what you meant. Because why bring it up if it isn't? I think it's just--you brought it up in the same breath as the Old Ones, so I thought--it was a shock, okay? Because I /did/ think you trusted me. I was confused. I thought you were upset. And I--"

    A deep, slow breath in. A slow breath out. "I'm not used to people trusting me, okay? Not... I don't know that I've ever /had/ unquestioning trust, from anyone. Or even just... firm and solid. Even Martin doesn't... not really." They swallow. That's a hard admission to make. "So maybe I don't know what it... looks like. And I'm sorry. But it's not just that, it's..."

    They stand, slowly, and walk over, feeling out where Cael is by the sense of her. Pain and frustration and confusion. "I need to know--oh, gods, Cael. I'm so scared. And I can't cry. And--and I need to cry. And I need to..." They reach out their arms. "I'm scared this Old One influence is part of me, too. I'm... I'm looking for reassurance, I think, and I'm saying it all wrong. I'm sorry. It's..."

    A pause. And then, half-sobbing. "I don't trust myself. Because when I do, when I follow my gut, I go to things like... 'take over the Watcher' or 'get eaten by the Jabberwock.' So how can anyone else possibly...?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael can hear Jon crunching towards her across the beach, and the short distance between them, prompting her to turn her head just enough to watch their approach in the corner of her eye. She can see them groping for her blindly - and after a momentary hesitation, she steps into their questing arms, wrapping her own arms around them, and holding them tightly, resting her head on their chest as her own tears fall quietly.
    At first - she doesn't know what to say, because- no. She doesn't trust those impulses. They frighten her - so she holds Jon tightly as she gives herself the time to straighten her thoughts out once more. "Maybe it's like I just said- about unquestioning trust. Following your gut doesn't always lead to good decisions. If you follow your gut without question... it can land you in a bad situation, so- so you question it. You look to people you trust for their feedback. Then... then listen to your head, and your heart, and your gut - and your friends - and you act. And whatever you choose, I'm beside you."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "There isn't always time for that, though," Jon murmurs softly. He wraps his arms around Cael and presses his face to her hair. "When I jumped at the Jabberwock--I didn't have time. I had to act, right then. I have to--I have to get in tune with myself. In harmony." The word /means/ something important, even if he isn't sure why.

    "The thing is--that worked out. So maybe it's partly that I wonder... will this work out too? Should I be trusting my gut more? I told you before--it's when I hesitate, that people die. When I don't move, don't act. Don't trust myself. And no, trusting myself doesn't mean never questioning myself, but there's such a thing as /too much/ questioning, you know?"

    They sigh. "You hate my self-doubt. I can /feel/ that you hate it. So I'm trying to trust myself, and my instincts. But then I suggest what I feel is the right course, and you recoil, and--and I trust you more than almost anyone else in the world. So I figure I must be wrong. You know?"

    A soft chuckle. "I'm a damn mess. We both are." A pause. "But I love you. I really do. And I--look, if you think I should just--keep removing my eyes when they regrow..." He swallows. "I hate that idea. But the other, it's--it's not just giving in blindly. It's recognizing that this thing has a tie to me, and trying to use that. Like, umm. Like taking a nicotine patch instead of going cold turkey."

    A beat. "I know that's a terrible example given that I keep insisting on leaving the hotel so I can go smoke. But, you know, hence my terror, etcetera."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "No, there isn't always time," Cael agrees. "But that's why questioning it after is always important. Looking for different solutions after that fact."
    She lets out a heavy sigh as she adds, "The thing with the Jabberwock, and finding the girl inside- it's- I worry about you putting too much faith in the fact that that worked out alright," she says a bit hesitantly. "You point out you wouldn't have found the girl otherwise, that it needed to happen but- you didn't know she was there. You weren't seeking her. It's like... stepping out into a street blindly. A car swerves and hits some guys on their way to rob a bank and you stopped them because you stepped out into the road. ...does that mean stepping out into the road is a good idea?" Because to her it sounds like coincidence and luck.
    "I know theres too much question. It's- well. It's finding balance."
    After a sigh she adds, "I fear being changed, or unduly influenced. I know that. And maybe I.... force that fear on you too much, but- I don't know, Jon. I don't like the idea of you crippling yourself and inflicting pain on yourself, again and again. And I know how much your gifts mean to you. I don't want you to be separated from them.
    "...but the nicotine analogy is just a bad analogy. It's- to me it's more like saying, "I'm smarter than this shark. I think //I// can use //it//. You know?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "A shark is a bad example too," Jon murmurs. "They're actually very--they don't attack humans out of cruelty." He hesitates. Then he says, "It's more like... nuclear power. Dangerous, and terrible, and potentially deadly and poisonous to the world, but if you can harness it and keep it safe...?"

    He shakes his head. "It's not--it's not like I /want/ to do this, Cael. But it's... hmm. How can I..."

    They almost pull away, then stop. They were going to look down at her, but they can't see. So they sigh instead, and say, "This is the thing, that I think maybe you don't understand. You're acting like I'm full of hubris, running around thinking I can tame sharks, or that I'm not aware of the dangers of what I'm proposing. But I'm /not/. I'm /terrified/, and I'm trying to find a way out of a desperate situation using the options I can see that are available. If you have another option, I'll take it. If Chas has another option, I'll take it. But I can't /see/ it."

    He sobs, softly. "I don't--all of this 'question yourself after the fact,' I do that /constantly/. You don't seem to get that what you're doing, I do /more/. What I /need/ is someone going 'maybe that was dangerous, but you pulled it out in the end.' And I don't get that very often, so I figure--I'm fucking up. Constantly. /Constantly/. I question every single thing I do. And then I try to trust myself, and what I get from people is--more questioning. Do you... see? It's not that I want or need you to /not/ question, it's more just--I don't know. I need building up, /badly/. So when you question it just--it just picks at the wound I've already made in myself, every day. So that's why I react badly."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I didn't think that you- Jon, I don't think you're //seeking// this. Okay? I don't."
    Cael's arms tighten around Jon as she adds quietly, "I wish I saw another way. That's why we need more eyes on this. There has to be something we're missing. There //has// to be. We're too caught up in it. Too scared - Chas'll have a clearer head. He'll see what we can't." She hopes. She has to hope.
    "Jonathan Keller Sims," she begins, her voice suddenly stern, "How many 'fuck ups' do you know who have saved all of reality? Hmm?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "That is a /terrible/ joke, Cael," Jon says. But they're laughing in spite of themself.

    Then, "It's just... the same thing inside me that told me how to do that--how to defeat Michael in those battles, how to talk him down, when to say 'fuck this' to his Astral shenanigans--it's the same thing that told me to jump at the Jabberwock. To grab the Eye and make it my bitch." They swallow. "Maybe it's... sensing fate. The probabilities. The right way to go. I mean--if I can see that for Terry, why not myself?"

    They do pull back this time, brow furrowing, so they can 'look' down at her--or at least turn their face down toward her. "Maybe that's what it is. Trusting myself means trusting Ma'at, and my mystical senses, and sometimes what that tells me to do is--it doesn't /look/ like the smart play, because I'm seeing things nobody else is seeing."

    A pause, and then, "But gods know I'm not going to parlay with Old Ones without talking to the local /angel/. No worries about /that/. Fuck."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "The only kind of joke I know," Cael counters. And no worse than the jokes she and Agnes had been enduring all day...
    At Jon's theory, a faint and thoughtful frown crosses Cael's features. She lets Jon pull away, but keeps her face turned down for a moment, perhaps forgetting that on can't //see// her features, anyways. "...maybe," she relents, as she looks up finally. How far she's come that she can even consider something so preposterous as a serious possibility. "Maybe that's what it is. But- yeah. Talk to Chas."
    She studies Jon's features, and reaches up to tip up his glasses, looking into the empty holes where his eyes should be. She wants to kiss them - as if that would somehow make things better. "So... listen more, and affirmations."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Obviously my fate sense can be wrong. It was wrong in your case. So I'm not trusting it blindly." A smirk. Yes, Jon said that on purpose. "You're right to question this. To worry about it, and what it might do to me. Because with this, specifically--they could be twisting me. Or, well--just because it's /likely/ to happen doesn't mean it's the /best/ idea."

    A pause. "But, Cael--I know what you want to do right now. Remember I can see and feel things you don't, and--and take that into account, when trusting me. If I ever--if I ever /refuse/ to listen to you, well. Then you know I'm not--me anymore. And if... if that day ever comes... I trust you. Okay? I... I have /so much/ power. I could misuse it very badly if I were... twisted. Evil. And I know you won't let me. Because you love me. I--I'm sorry that I ever made you doubt our love."

    "But yes. Listening, and affirmations. And touch, I--I respond well to that. I'm still figuring it out, for you. Touch, I think, and--hmm. Quality time? I think."

    Then they lean down closer, so Cael can reach their eyes. Will it help? Not entirely. But maybe it'll help the fact that he can't seem to cry.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael puts her hand behind Jon's head as she often does when she's pulling them down for a kiss - and she kisses him gently on each empty socket, wary of causing them pain - but knowing no better way to show them just how much she cares in this moment, and just how much she wishes she knew how to fix this.
    If only the whole mess could be healed away with a kiss.
    She follows this up with a lingering kiss to Jon's lips.
    "You are not a fuck up, Mariposa. And- thank you for saying you trust me. I'll- I won't let you become a threat to the things you believe in.
    "I love you, Mariposa."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon returns the kiss with a sigh and then smiles. "I love you too, Oroguita." They lean down to kiss her forehead, not missing at all. "I'm sorry I'm being so difficult. I'm working on it. I really am. Thank you for putting up with me."

    They turn to look toward the surf, where Agnes has been glancing over and then playing with Bear and pretending she /doesn't/ see that they're kissing. In public. Eww! "S'pose we should pack up and head in? Or do you want to go for another swim? I could--I could /try/. I'd like to at least get in the water once, before we head to Christchurch Harbour for dinner." There's a wistful sort of tone in their voice.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I want to go back in for a bit, yeah," Cael confirms. She takes hold of Jon's left hand, giving it a squeeze as she offers, "I'll guide you?"
    She starts to lead Jon closer to the water when they're ready as she adds, "I know I'm a terrible cook, but- do you think we should try- I don't know, how 'filling' it is for you, if I were to make you a sandwich or something, while thinking about you?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "We can try that, yeah," Jon says with a smile. "The, umm, the lemon drizzle? That whole--the other morning, it was really... surprisingly good." They shrug, and reach up to fix their glasses.

    Then they laugh, and say, "I trust you--lead on. And let's see if we can get in there fast enough to surprise Agnes, huh?"