Juvion Modord

Looking at the Magician Markus took a deep breath, knowing there was a lot more going on here than was going to be fixed in a night. But that didn’t mean he shouldn’t at least try to help, even if Juvion threw it back in his face.

As Markus talked, Juvion was caught half between a laugh and a snarl. Yeah, he was pathetic. Yeah, this was a pity party, and part of him was glad that Markus wasn’t dousing him in sympathy. But the other part could have done with just a little bit, and eventually, when Markus started in about how ‘shit happens’, the snarling won out. The space around them dimmed, his magic leaving Markus in a silver-lined shimmer of partial shadow as he spoke. It wouldn’t have been full blackness to the other’s eyes most like, but to Juvion everything looked like it was sparking with quicksilver lights. Peaceful--- as though it was trying to counter his own anger that was slowly resurfacing. He’d been feeling bouts of it since he’d woken up in the hospital, and he knew it wasn’t fair to take it out on Markus, but he couldn’t help it. 

“Not when you piss people off when you do it.” Markus replied looking around at the other patrons of the bar slightly. They had already looked annoyed before this little show, but now it was even worse. “Take it from someone who’s seen people been barred from bars because of unintended benefits.” He continued coming back to the blonde man next to him “It’s never as great as you think in the morning.”

Markus’s response made Juvion think of Maia, chopping a bar stool in half with her hand, and he chuckled. But a reminder of Maia just led to the Maia’s-not-here circle of thinking, and that wasn’t someplace he was eager to go again.

JUVION & LEHAIN

Juvion heard his name, and turned to the side to see who’d spoken. A mildly sleepy grin arose on his face, then grew wider. “Lehain! Sweet, murderous Lehain.” Torque’s second-in-command was no one to trifle with, but Juvion had plenty of experience with women who were far superior to him in every way. “What brings you to... wherever I am right now?” he inquired, attempting to prop his face up on his hand at a jaunty, rakish angle.

Looking at the other man Markus sat unflinching as felt temperature started to drop. Accidental displays of magic were common among drunken mancers so it came as no surprise that the moon magician was starting to wreck havoc on the bar. But the thing that was a bit surprising to Markus was how normal this feeling was. It actually reminded him of when Denian got drunk. When he was like this everything turned to ice the instant he touched it, and many times Markus had to spend hours sitting the large halfling down in front of the fire making sure he did freeze to death in the middle of his drunken stupor. 

Markus’s words swam around his head, but slowly he understood, and realized his Magic was out of control. He glanced around. “So I get the place to myself. Seems like an unint--unintended benefit, don’t you think?” Trying for a wide grin, he got tired halfway there, and slumped in his seat. The room began to heat again, slowly, and some of the other customers were giving him the stink eye, probably muttering about Magicians ruining every bar in town.

JUVION & MARKUS

“Listen, idiot. I don’t care,” she said, enunciating each word clearly and pointedly, “if you think that’s not real because you fell on your nose for the first time since forever. Because, umm, newsflash? We’re none of us exactly who we pretend to be, but that’s, like, part of being a person.”

He couldn’t say anything to that. What was there to say? She believed things about him that he couldn’t accept. Because the minute he did, he knew he’d have to face it all, to get over it in some capacity. And he wasn’t ready to give up on his old life, even as it was evaporating around him second by second.

Orinda sighed relieved before smiling at Juvion. “You’ve got sick humor, Modord. And I thank God for that. But I suppose the fact you aren’t dead is also maybe a decent reason to thank God.” It had seemed Juvion was the only one who didn’t shove uncomfortable feelings on her, despite the fact that– looking at his arm, he probably had good reason to. “Truly,” Orinda held her heart with both hands, “That boy was a ‘real fucking’ gift and he will be dearly missed.” She laughed before commenting, “You know, I can see why you and Milian are such good friends. Don’t tell him, but he’s the real glue of our team. His spirits keep us up– Kinda like yours.”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” he agreed cheerily. He could afford to be optimistic right now--- he was sober, but if the last few nights were anything to judge by, his good mood would dissolve with his first drink. It was a trade he was willing to make in exchange for relative numbness and apathy during the night, however. As she spoke about Benji, he couldn’t really think of anything else to add, so he just smiled. “Actually, the ‘glue’ of our team is in a Knight cell right now.” His smile faltered momentarily. “I’m more like... the bringer of fun. But I can imagine Milian does that, for you lot. Rather, uh, negative, aren’t they? Your group I mean.” The Shadow Magician Titiana was especially... unsettling. 

Words and clever turns of phrase had never really been her thing; a fact Darqa was regretting now more than ever. What could she possibly say to Juvion that would help him feel better about his arm? About everything? If she could just somehow just punch his sadness into submission, or his arm back to working then that’d be super easy, but…yeah.

“I don’t want to push you away, gods, I don’t want that at all, Darqa. I just--- you may think that I can still be that person, who’s cool and funny and all that, but that’s not real.” He’d been thinking it since he woke up and the sedation had worn off.

Darqa bit her lip, swallowing down a choice selection of curses directed mostly toward herself. It hurt like nothing else to see Juvion so down on himself, especially for something that had been completely not his fault at all – and she had no idea in the slightest what would get through to him in his current state. She squinched back tears. And then she rounded on him. 

He had the impulse to run his hand through his hair, and tried, but nothing happened and he had to switch arms after a split second of realization and a sinking feeling he was getting used to. Everything, every damn little thing... Darqa wanted to be supportive, and who was he to blame her for that. He should be letting her help, but it felt like a charade to be anything other than hurt.

“What, seriously, you’re admitting it?” She laughed, figuring that the happier she was the more it would rub off on Juvion so that he would properly feel happy, too. “Do I need to write this down somewhere so we don’t forget it?”

Juvion chuckled low in his throat. He couldn’t look at her, just felt as she moved further away. “It’s really, really not, Teach.” They’d been through a lot, first as friends and group members, and now as so much more, but nothing had prepared him for the self-loathing he felt when he looked at her. 

“When you’re groupleader, you tend to learn when to give babies their bottles.” Orinda returned easily with a shrug. It was near relief when Juvion continued the banter because if he grew emotional, Orinda would have decided that she’d never room again for the next week, not even for food. “Well, I’m glad too. I can’t imagine the effort it’d be to clean up your body and prepare a funeral. That’s a lot of work.” Just a few seconds after the words left her mouth, Orinda knew she messed up. It was easy to forget the common courtesy shown for the fallen when she hardly thought of them. “Sorry, that was in poor taste.”

Juvion chuckled. “If that’s poor taste, I’d rather be a beggar than a king. Actually, I’d rather that anyway...” He lit up brightly. “And that was a terrible pun! They told me I’d be recovering for a while, but evidently not everything’s broken, thank the gods.” His thoughts did stray briefly to Yoa and Benji, and the memory of the bar fight where Yoa’d prevented him from committing accidental murder made him grin again. “Besides. If we don’t laugh about it, what’s the point of trying to survive? I’m sure they’d understand.” he said cheerfully. “Well, not Benji. He’d probably just yell and swear.”

“Compassion didn’t get me where I am today,” Orinda smiled overtly sweet, not missing a beat. “But I’m truly sorry, Modord. Did you want another bandage? I have been told my words were rather sharp.” Despite the fact that he really was injured and it wasn’t the best time for joking, Orinda couldn’t help but take advantage of Juvion. He was always one for a laugh and that was far easier to deal with than the others.

“I’ve got plenty, but it’s awfully sweet of you to offer, almost makes me wonder if you’re lying about that whole compassion thing,” he said with a smirk. It was a relief that she was treating him like normal, that’s what he wanted, anyway. To try and forget this was something he should take seriously. “They keep me well-wrapped. Which is nice, because I’d hate it if I started falling apart, just losing a finger here, an elbow there...” He gestured vaguely to the rest of his body with his uninjured arm.

JUVION & DARQA

Juvion returned her smile, but he felt cold, like his body was flooded with his own magic. Funny, since it was a burn. “You’re right, of course. You’re always right---you’d think after this long I’d have gotten used to that,” he teased.