#breven

Even flailed and dropped his book, the tome hitting the floor with a dull thud. However, it was not quite as spectacular as the thud made by Braig, who had lost concentration and dropped to the ground like a particularly bothersome sack of potatoes. Said potato sack was grumbling curses under his breath as he clutched his newfound bloody nose.

Even was faring no better, a hiss of pain accompanying his usual shrill tone as he massaged his forehead. "What on earth were you doing there?"

Braig gave a halfhearted chuckle from his position on the ground, voice muffled beneath his glove. "Well, was tryin' to spook ya but obviously that didn't work out."

"Don't you have duties you should be performing elsewhere?"

"As if. ‘Sides, who's to say my first duty of the day wasn't to test your alertness?"

Even narrowed his eyes at the man who was still laying on the ground - it was really quite a pathetic scene. "I highly doubt that." And with that, he picked up his book and stepped over Braig.

"C'mon, I don't even get a hand up?" He stretched his arm out toward the scientist but dropped it with a sigh when it was pointedly ignored.

Instead, Even began digging through his supply cabinet and mumbling to himself. Honestly, what a child. Able to wield space and gravity magic and he uses it to prank people. Surely that power could be put to much better use. And his bitterness over this was not in any way related to him being Braig's primary target, thank you very much.

But as much as he liked to complain, the pranks were never actively harmful. He suspected they were the man’s way of socializing in some twisted sense. At any rate, Even had grown accustomed to his presence over the years and his grumbling was really done out of habit than any actual contempt for the man. Braig was a fool, but he was an apprentice to Lord Ansem the same as the rest of them, so he was their fool.

“Got any gauze in there?”

Even startled as the sharpshooter warped next to him, causing him to nearly knock over a stack of glassware. “Heavens Braig, would you give me a moment? That’s what I’m looking for.”

“Anticipating my needs? My hero.” He brought the back of his free hand up to his forehead as if he were a damsel in distress, but his shit-eating grin was far from innocent.

Even didn’t grace this with a response. Instead, when he found the gauze, he shoved it into Braig’s hand and stalked back toward his workspace.

He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down to review his notes from the previous day, elbow propped up on the desk and fist under his chin. One particular subject had responded to the stimuli while another had not, and careful testing was necessary to determine if it any external variables had snuck their way into the experiment. He absently chewed the tip of his pen.

As he pondered the matter, the surface beneath him shifted with a groan and he nearly faceplanted as his elbow slipped. Looking up, he saw that Braig had hoisted himself up onto the desk, nursing his own cup of coffee.

Pray though he might that the interruptions would end there, he knew he couldn’t be so lucky.

“So, Lord Ansem did actually send me to check up on you this morning, believe it or not. Something about some science mumbo jumbo you’re working on?”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes returning to his notes. “Yes, that is what we do around here, for lack of better words I suppose.”

Braig waved his hand. “Eh, you know I don’t care for the finer details. He just wants a brief report written up so I can deliver it to him asap. He’ll be joining you this evening.”

“And I suppose you’re going to wait here while I compose it?”

“Of course. But don’t you worry about me,” he said with a glint in his eye as he jumped down. “I can find some way to entertain myself in the meantime.”

“Yes, and that’s exactly what I was afraid of,” Even grumbled as he pulled a fresh sheet of paper out of a supply drawer to transcribe his notes onto.

Just as he was about to shut the drawer, he caught his reflection in a small mirror. His attention was immediately drawn to his forehead, which now bore a small but slowly growing reddish mark. Curses. No doubt he’d be sporting a lovely bruise for a week or more thanks to his companion.

As if on cue, there was a crash of metal on tile from deeper in the lab and the marksman threw his hands up in a gesture that was supposed to imply innocence. Even didn’t buy it. But at least Braig had the good sense to look sheepish about it.

~~~

Contrary to popular belief, Even did make it out of the lab on occasion, rare though it might be. His walks usually took him to the fountains in the courtyard. They were a sight to behold and one of the many wonders of Radiant Garden. If he ever hit a stumbling block in his research, spending time pondering there usually managed to provide some solution or new angle to look at a problem from.

Today happened to be one of those frustrating days, and the weather was pleasant enough for a stroll. So he found himself at the fountain, mulling over various disproven hypothesis and how they could be improved. He was on the verge of a breakthrough when a foreign object was thrust in front of his face. A bar of sea salt ice cream, to be exact.

He turned to the owner and of course it was none other than Braig, who shook it playfully in his face. “Apology ice cream?”

“Apology? What for?”

“For this morning.”

Ah, of course. Even eyed the proffered gift warily. The treat itself didn’t pose any threat, but a genuine gesture from Braig was rare, so forgive him for being skeptical.

Gloved hand wiggled the bar yet again. “C’mon, I know you aren’t just eating them for the kid’s benefit.”

A rare smile graced Even’s features at the mention of Ienzo, Lord Ansem’s brilliant young protégé. Once he deemed it safe, he accepted the ice cream with a small nod and sat on the nearby bench. Braig followed suit, wasting no time in eating his. And proceeding to talk with a mouthful, as expected.

“Speaking of Ienzo, I don’t know what you and Ansem have done to that kid, but he has absolutely no concept of fun,” Braig said as he jabbed his ice cream in an accusatory fashion. “I asked him if he’d wanna try sniping an apple that was dangling in a tree just above Dilan and y’know what he said?”

“He said no,” Even deadpanned.

“He said no! Can you imagine? Passing up an opportunity like that?”

Even took a bite of his ice cream as he mulled over his response. “I don’t know Braig, can I imagine being a mature individual with a healthy respect for my peers? It is rather difficult.”

Braig grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Was that sarcasm? And here this whole time I thought you were just a stick in the mud, Ev.”

He opened his mouth to respond but the words died on his lips. Ev. In all the years that Braig had been at the castle, he had never called him that before. And Even wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it. On one hand, it was infuriatingly informal. But on the other, it suggested that the man thought highly enough of him to consider him a friend. Maybe it even held a degree of affection.

Not that it mattered to him, of course. He just wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Speechless? Man, I really did give you a good knock on the noggin, didn’t I?”

Before Even could process what was happening, Braig brought a hand up to his forehead, thumb gently swiping over the blossoming bruise. He studied it for a moment before his dark eyes met Even’s, his expression unreadable but unusually sincere. Had he ever truly looked at the man’s eyes like this before, close enough to notice how the irises were a chestnut brown in the sunlight?

Despite himself, Even felt a blush beginning to work its way up his neck at the surprisingly vulnerable eye contact. He turned away and cleared his throat. “If I remember correctly, you got a bloody nose out of the affair, so I’d say we’re about even.”

“Huh. S’pose we are.”

Both men fell silent at that, content to finish their ice cream in amicable peace. His mind went back to the day that Braig was discovered lurking on the grounds. Dilan and Aeleus were patrolling the gardens that morning when the former spotted him. Even had only heard stories of the event, but they brought him great joy regardless.

Apparently when Dilan moved to apprehend him, Braig had warped away, sticking his leg through a portal to trip the larger man from a safe distance. Doubled over with laughter at his own cleverness, he didn’t notice Aeleus behind him. One swift pommel to the back of his head and he was down for the count.

They took him to Lord Ansem, who was intrigued by his spatial powers and invited him to stay at the castle. His unique control over gravity, coupled with excellent marksmanship, made him an excellent candidate for a guard. Soon after, he became an apprentice much like Dilan and Aeleus had.

Returning to the present, he stole a glance at Braig out of the corner of his eye. The man appeared to be deep in contemplation himself, brow furrowed and empty ice cream stick balanced between his teeth. Even may mock his intelligence, but he suspected he was far more thoughtful and observant than one might assume.

After a few moments, a hand clapped his shoulder and squeezed. “Welp, I better get going now. Some of us have work to do,” Braig added with an infuriating wink before he withdrew his hand and meandered off.

Even stammered as he felt heat rise to his cheeks. Where had that reaction come from?

Surely it was because the man had the nerve to suggest he was slacking off. Surely. It wasn't anything else. It wasn’t because of that wink or that lazy, crooked smirk. Or the way his fingertips had lingered on his shoulder, leaving ghost sensations in the path they had traced over. He just had to get his mind on something else, anything else.

The empty ice cream stick in his hands suddenly became of great interest to him.

~~~

It was shortly after that when Even began noticing little things about Braig, details that had somehow escaped him over the years. Like how the guard uniform’s square shoulders sloped on his thin frame. How his lopsided grin caused the corner of one eye to crinkle. The way he restlessly swung his legs when he was sitting on the lab table that had to be disinfected every time he visited without fail.

And while Braig’s interruptions were almost always pointless and asking him to refrain from visiting the lab would certainly increase his productivity, he never brought himself to ask. He had spent more time pondering this than he cared to admit.

Even had never been in love before. Maybe there was some irony in the fact that one who was researching the heart hadn't experienced one of its most powerful emotions. He liked to believe it was because of the high standards he held not only for himself, but also those he chose to share his company with.

Braig fell short of these standards by a laughably large margin. He was loud, obnoxious, impulsive, childish, and not nearly as clever as he thought himself to be. None of these traits were even remotely close to ideal. But at the same time, there was some sort of affection there, wasn't there?

So maybe he wasn't in love with him. Developing a crush, possibly. He discarded that thought quickly, however, as the word ‘crush’ made him cringe. Crushes were for juveniles, teenagers acting on their physical attraction. Braig might be somewhat handsome, he supposed, with his sharp cheekbones and lean figure. But that was irrelevant. All of this terminology and categorization of his feelings was irrelevant in Even’s mind.

In the end, it didn’t matter what he called it. It was there, and much like the man himself, he just had to deal with it.

hoo boy I’ve been in therapy since May and let me tell you, all the therapy in the world does not stop other people in your life from acting out their own PTSD on a daily basis, so that’s kind of a fun and complicated day-to-day shitshow. god I really hate november. GOD the pandemic MESSED us all up I swear to fuck. anyway

I’m doing the best I can over here to hold down the fort but whew keeping a job while your brain on a tilt-a-whirl is not fucking easy. got no more time off for the year and a bunch of people asking me to travel and do things during the work week or do holiday stuff with them and I’m like “:/ maybe you should think of things from my perspective, you know, for once” and that’s where all my trauma is. right there. being ignored/assumed to be available/not brought truly into the fold of a plan until it’s already incompatible with what I need to do to keep myself and my life steady. I’m getting much better at erecting those boundaries where they need to be, but a lot of it is Virgil, and it’s ... it’s exhausting for him, for all of us, it’s just so fucking tiring to take care of Us and then have Other People Asking For More. makes me want to just Vanish Entirely.

what helps? uhh. music helps. DBT helps immensely. seeing other people that are not my closest dysfunctional family members helps SO much. christ alive I need to see other people and so much of pandemic/mental illness/PTSD is the cycle of isolation. especially bananas when you never fucking get alone time and instead the isolation is desperate hypervigilance in a space that you share now with two other people, WHAT did I get myself into!!!! oh Lark what the hell are you doing babe...