nexus_sages | (no subject)

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Tonight, Hunter is sitting on a bar stool in one of the Forum's bars in the commercial district, nursing his third beer of the evening.

The tattooed-covered young man is wearing a light gray tuxedo, so either he has been (or is going) to a semi-formal event. There are no clues to what kind of event that might be.

Right now, Hunter is stoic and quiet, as he finishes the beer. Looking around the bar, he spots a pool table. And, after ordering another beer, Hunter heads over to stake his claim at the table. He finds a place to hang up his coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal the tattoos that cover his arms.

Then he starts playing pool by himself. It really seems like the solo game is meant to be a distraction, doesn't it?

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"How would I do that?" He waits his turn, but is still curious about Schön's suggestion.

Schön takes another shot, but clucks his tongue softly as he misses, before straightening up. "Well, you might need to invent one. Consider the coming-of-age and funerary rites of old, and how they've transitioned to the modern day. They lend a structure on which the grieving can lean, that helps them know how to express their feelings, and when it is alright to start to feel better. The Irish Wake," he offers, by way of example, "countered grief with fond remembrances and generous libations. The ancient Greeks rubbed ashes in their hair and wore ragged clothes, advertising their pain to the world and so removing some part of it when they put off the clothes at last."

"It is a little relieving to know I don't have to feel alright right away." Hunters admits softly. He aims for a striped ball, since that is now his objective. And sinks it.

"I sometimes express my grief in my art."

"There's an idea," Schön supplies agreeably. "The classic remedy for the artist--put the pain on the canvas and walk away shriven."

Hunter was close to knocking another ball in, but misses by a near ricochet. "I sometimes don't know what to do with those pieces. The emotions almost feel too raw for me to display them."

"Some artists give the pieces they don't want shown to a friend who will put them away. A lifetime later, when they're found in an attic by grandchildren, time will have wiped away the pain and left only the art."

"Gee, I wonder where I could find one of those friends who would just randomly take my art." Hunter manages a small smile.

Schön chuckles. "I didn't mean it to sound quite so self-serving. I imagine Verity or either of the young gentlemen at your birthday party would be willing to supply a ready hand."

"I do trust you with safe-keeping my art." Hunter responds softly.

"Neither Wil or Rhys have their own place, to keep anything art related right now. But I know I could keep giving Verity art too, just like she could keeping randomly feeding me."

"It would be nice to know... they are somewhere safe. Because right now, just keeping them in storage just feels unsettling. Like I am locking up a piece of myself."

"That's a fair feeling," Schön concedes. "I could certainly promise safety, and I've no doubt Verity would take the proper care of anything entrusted to her. But speaking of Wil, did I see a certain spark there?"

Hunter takes a moment to consider his response. "I do care about him, very much."

"But, Wil is very hesitant about returning anything more than friendship. He sometimes get too wrapped up in the fact that we have the same facial structure."

There is other challenges to a relationship with Wil that Hunter is not saying. But that is out of respect of keeping Wil's heritage a secret.

"Facial structure? Is that his excuse?" Recalling that it's his turn, Schön takes a quick shot; a miss. "He writes but doesn't want to be read, he feels but doesn't want to be felt--that boy is hiding inside himself."

"He reminds me of myself, emotional wise, a few year ago." Hunter aims and hits his next shot. "I don't see his face as the one I used to have."

"I guess that is why I want to support him and help him find a way to accept himself."

"I am glad we have our friendship. It doesn't have to lead anywhere."

"Mm," comes the thoughtful sound from amid the glitter. "Friendship or more, someone needs to draw him out of his little fortress before he makes it a crypt."

"That is why I asked him to write my artist portfolio. And why I wanted him to meet you and Verity."

"He will finds his faith in himself. Just like I did."

Schön nods acquiescence at that. "He doesn't seem to want what I can offer, at least not yet. But then, he has quite the number of, hm, concerns."

"He is used to hiding. But the Nexus will be good for him. He will realize that he doesn't have to hide."

Hunter makes another shot, but then quickly scratches to end his turn.

"And while romance is not in the cards, at least he was honest with me about his concerns and his hesitation." A recent negative experience is the reason behind Hunter's statement.

"Isn't it?" A negligent shot results in... a slight rearrangement of the table, and an annoyed look from Schön to his cane. At least the Fairy Godfather probably isn't using magic to rig the game?

"Ah, well. The flower bloomed before its time wilts twice as swift."

"Me realizing that I didn't have to hide was the best thing possible. I think one of the bravest things I recently did was walking away from a possible bad relationship because I knew I deserved better."

Hunter takes his time to study the rearranged table, before lining up and sinking his next shot. He is a little ahead of Schön right now, so of course the thought of magic being used to rig the game is the farthest thing from his mind.

"Well done," Schön offers, heartily meant. "Would it be prying to ask what happened? Or is it better to let sleeping dragons lie?"

"I met him at a club and initially we hit it off."

"And we had a few dates, at his apartment. Then it dawned at me, that we weren't going 'out' in public." Hunter once again takes his time to pick out his next shot. "When I asked him about going out, he said he wanted privacy. And the way he said it was just a little unsettling."

"Like maybe, he didn't want to be seen with me." There is still some hurt feelings there. So Hunter's next shot has a little more bite to it, and sinks one of his balls... and one of Schön's to lose his turn.

Schön tsks quietly, shaking his head as he lines up a shot. He stops himself before he takes it, however, standing up his cane and taking down an ordinary cue. With that, he sinks one. "Love is not for the faint of heart--and that is, I think, the most charitable fault to assume in such a secretive companion."

"I told him that I was done hiding myself, and I wasn't about to hide a new relationship. And then just walked away."

"It was hard. But I feel I did what was right for me."

"Well said," Schön puts in, sinking another, "and well done. How long ago was this?"

"A few days ago. So not the best timing, with the wedding tonight." Hunter reflexively crosses his arms with the unfortunate timing.