irisnetwork | un: weaseling

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un: weaseling

Note/textbook highlighting/ease of reading
€10-15

Editing/proofreading
€15-20

Tutoring: french, eng, maths, science
cost depends on grade and if they're fucking annoying

Coffee delivery
cost of drink/food + €5

Tattoo design
depends what it is but they can just go to a real fucking artist if I don't cut the cost

Catsitting
~~€10/hr~~ maybe just cat glamour shots

Fistfight
do this shit for free

Drinking buddy
pay for my drinks tbh

~~Healing??~~
no fuck charging for that

and tell them all to get me shit for bday

[when you accidentally post instead of saving a draft]

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[There's a long sigh. It's...sort of humiliating having Héctor take such a gentle, affectionate tone with him, even if Mav knows it's supposed to be grounding. Like, what, is he expected to break if he's not treated with kiddie gloves, or something? Then again, the older man has definitely seen him at some impressive lows.

But okay. Just changing text is easy enough. If that's all he's expected to do right now, he can do it no problem, the words on the textbook in front of him fading, glimmering, brightening to a blue, shifting into a rainbow gradient. Even without the visor Rex made him to help detect colors, it was becoming easier to bring forth the tones he couldn't actually see -- something he'd known already, but only consciously notices now that he's specifically made to in order to do as he's told.]

[It comes naturally of trying to teach, something he's done for ages without ever really being a teacher. Better to step easy than cause frustration.

He peers at the phone, not really able to see much but little glimpses. It's really cool, what he can see. He's got a crooked grin looking at it.

He leans back again.]

Alright. You should have a good feel for it. Close your eyes. Keep your power there at the surface. Take a breath, and without actually setting it off, draw on it as much as possible. The idea is to go inward with it as much as you can until you can find the source of it; your flame.

As you do, think of that person who means something to you, whoever it is you'd really want to do this for or share it with. Someone you want to make proud.

[Here's where things stop going so smoothly. He doesn't have to worry about how stupid his face looks with how he's got the phone angled, but it's still a background hum in his brain he has to stifle when he closes his eyes obediently and exhales. When he draws his breath in again, he tries to ignore the annoying buzz of his own thoughts berating him. Just follow the magic back where it came from. It should be warm, he thinks, because otherwise the whole naming convention as even dumber than it already was, and thinking about Ramona was an inner warmth as well.

It should be easy. It should be, but he can't fucking do it. He can't connect the wires long enough to make so much as a spark, not when he tries to trace the unnatural magic back and instead of leading to the same place of comfort and support, it runs even deeper in. Magic -- specifically a brilliant, radiant magic he could use to fight back against vampires and other creatures he so insistently hated -- was a dark, fearful, angry pit in his gut. It's a dead flame, just like he almost had been over and over and over. And he was one of the lucky ones.

Maverick doesn't feel any different even after a fair bit of time has passed, but he cracks open an eye to cautiously check all the same. Not only is he not glowing like a goddamn lightbulb, but the words on the page have returned to a cold black.]

Fucking -- what the shit -- [UGHH. He slams the book shut and chucks it across the room with a frustrated growl.] Fuck you, that's fucking bullshit!

Maverick!

[He starts, the moment the book is picked up and slammed. His hands go out but the only thing he can do is take the phone. There's more cursing, the furious sort, and he can't tell if it's directed at the book, him, or Maverick himself.]

Maverick, hang on. Please. It's- It's okay. Stay with me.

[His brows knot together. He holds his breath and waits.]

What happened just now? Can you walk me through it?

[All of the above. But at least he manages to bite back -- literally, he has to bite down on his tongue -- a slough of insults directed more pointedly at Héctor for trying to get him to calm down when he's acting perfectly reasonably, thank you very fucking much!]

How the fuck should I know?! I told you, I've never been able to do this shit! Apparently I'm too fucking stupid to do it even when I'm given a goddamn step by step fucking guide! I'm just shit at magic, jesus shitting fuck!

You're not stupid, you know you're not, and you're not bad at magic either. You were doing your usual just now. And you've healed me before too. You're not the problem here, okay? Getting it the first time rarely works for anyone.

[He sighs. He needs to de-escalate this if they're going to try again but he doesn't know if he can. Or if Maverick will let him.]

Talk to me. Please?

[Instead of responding right away, Maverick mutters more curses and hauls off the bed so he can snatch up his cigarettes. It's basically a miracle the phone gets shoved into his hoodie pocket instead of being left behind when he exits the room and makes his way up onto the roof. Pretty much anyone else and he would have absolutely been done with this.]

Would it kill you to shut the fuck up instead of treating me like a goddamn child? I know I'm shit at it, fucking trying to say otherwise just makes us both assholes. [hrm.

The screen is still dark, thanks to the time, but at least it isn't just the inside of his hoodie and a rhythmic click as it hit against his knife. Some frustrated attempts later, he manages to activate his lighter, takes a drag, and huffs out a swirling mess of smoke that wisps across the video. He still doesn't let it show any part of his face, not that his expression could be anything but angry.] What the fuck you want me to say?!

[The screen goes dark and Maverick is on the move. He sinks down, leaning into the desk he's seated himself at and waiting, wondering if Maverick will remember him. Sure enough, he does, eventually. He sighs.]

I stand by what I said. I'm not going to change my mind because you're angry about it.

[Because he's not a kid anymore. Fifteen years ago and he'd have caved in an instant.]

I'm not expecting anything specific, Maverick. I'm just trying to work through this with you. I don't know how you feel or what runs through your head. You have to let me in if I'm going to know that. I can only take guesses and I don't want to trample in with assumptions when you already feel terrible.

[He falls silent for a little while, letting the nicotine ease him back on down -- at least, that's what he tells himself so he doesn't have to feel too guilty about his own assumptions. Like it was his fault this felt condescending? Tch...]

I fucking don't know. I was just -- [huff] I was just trying to do what you fucking said. Tried to fucking follow the flame and thought about Mama. It just fucking... The trail fucking went cold, it was a goddamn dead end, I dunno.

[He bobs his head, mouth pressing. He can only vaguely see Maverick by the lit end of the cigarette and still not much. That doesn't mean Maverick can't see him.]

Keep bearing with me. I know this is... [He looks for words and fails to find better ones.] A pain in the ass. But put up with me a bit longer.

When it went cold, what were you feeling? Or sensing. Or even imagining.

[He's too emotionally stupid for this, and it's frustrating because all he wants to say is that he doesn't know and have that be good enough. What was he supposed to do when he just doesn't fucking know?

It would be so easy to snap at Héctor again, but he chews on the inside of his cheek instead.]

I was...thinking it's fucking stupid, but the candle fucking went out. I had both fucking thoughts right fucking there, but I couldn't fucking tie 'em together. Or like -- like I was trying to hotwire it, but there weren't any exposed wires.

[He gets a thoughtful look, staring down at the desk as he puzzles that. Like trying to hotwire it...]

...That might actually be it. [He holds up a finger, bidding Maverick to wait while he sorts out the thought.] I hadn't even considered but it would make sense.

[And it's been done before. Peter had tried it well before he'd come to him. Maybe the solution wasn't one or the other, but both.]

You've got a candle but you need a match. Or a key to pull the wires out but we'll stick with one metaphor. Maybe, what we need is another candle. It's more than possible to transfer radiance from one candle to another, give a boost. We just need someone with the control who's willing to give you a spark.

[But he doesn't want to get too excited. He keeps his hand up.]

Just, to make sure we're looking at all the angles here, another question. I'll try not to give too many more.

... What does the Radiance mean to you? When you think of using it of having it, is there anything you hope for? ... or fear?

[The idea of jumpstarting it using someone else's help is...scary. Cold, not that he makes that connection just yet. Best to just focus on what the other's saying.]

It's the thing I'm supposed to be able to do, what the fuck else would it be? [But...] If I could do it, I could actually fucking do something about vamps and other fuckers like that. I can fucking fight, sure, but I'm human. There's only so much I can fucking do on my own.

I can understand that.

[He's really no stronger than humans. Even weaker in some senses. There are just less ways for him to die. Still plenty to be afraid of.

But...]

... I'm wondering. I stayed away so you wouldn't hurt me. You want your radiance to protect yourself. What if... what if we tried something smaller. Something that... would be so small it would only have me standing back if I were there. Forget what it can do... forget vampires, forget the dead, forget everything that you're afraid and that you want this for. Just... try and make a light. So I can see you in the camera. No bigger than that. And if nothing happens, noticing what you feel so we can explain if we get another candle involved.

Would you be willing to try with me? One more time?

[Long. Pause.

He doesn't want to. He doesn't want to have his task dumbed down, he doesn't want to risk failing again at something that was supposed to be so, so easy, and he doesn't want Héctor to witness him failing. Hadn't he done enough of that? It certainly felt like a lot when it was his pride being ripped away from him.

His smoky exhale is shaky.]

...My shift starts soon. I should go.

[He can't lose anymore tonight.]

[He falls quiet himself. He pulls a quiet breath and presses his mouth together. Then, slowly, he nods.]

Alright, mijo.

[He understands. He knows it's not just a work shift. But he doesn't point it out. He's let the kid doesn't. He doesn't need to do more.]

I'm sorry I... I couldn't do more to help. Take care, okay?

[There's a breath like he's preparing to say something, but words don't come as easily as he knows they should. Especially since they're brushing this off. It should be a breeze, but it's a quiet sigh instead.

Instead of pinpointing how he'd like to react, Maverick just vaguely waves his hand at the screen and hangs up. Bye.]

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