yves is hit with a bunch of things that he genuinely does not understand like supermarkets and rock and roll shows, but he does understand the very end as a threat. and he hates it. his eyes narrow immediately and there's a defensive edge to it, like he's not sure how to reach into the mirror and 1v1 this fucking clown.
when the memory ends, he turns to richie with a look of concern ]
Monsieur Richie, are you okay? That was...
[ he's not sure what that was, besides upsetting ]
Richie could be better. Really, it would have been fine to grit teeth through the whole gongshow if company hadn't shown up. Young company. Maybe too old for the target range, but wet enough behind the ears to amp up his own dread.
Then Richie gets an all new view of jumbo-sized, day-glo plastic mania and his knees nearly give out on him. He's leaned back against the mirror opposite, stiff and hunch-shouldered, schooling his breath into even pacing. His eyes roll to Yves', guarded. There's a tension in his face that reads less as fear than careful calculation.]
...I'm fine. I'm all right.
[He gathers himself together, upsie-daisy. Dust off your slacks old boy, you're steady as a rock.]
We're in for a fun week. Want to grab a bucket of popcorn and some candy floss?
[His mouth opens. He begins to shake his head, then wipes at his brow. Weary. Apprehensive.]
It's just complicated. All right? It's the sort of thing where the more you know, the worse it is for you. [Or it would be, if they were in Derry for real. The thing's a million miles away, but Richie wonders how long it'll stay that way. This week it's popping up in mirrors. What if it's his turn to step up for expulsion? What if the next week portals open to worse places? If the visions and the tricks get too solid to tell the difference anymore?] Ordinarily, you can't see it unless it wants you to. And it doesn't want you to unless it's trying to kill you.
It prefers kids. But sometimes, it'll make a run at a grown man too. Especially ones that pissed it off before.
[Not as gruesomely as it could have, but the job's done. Richie nods.]
Maybe I'm being paranoid, but I don't like the way things from your past keep getting dragged out here. Even if it's just an illusion. Or a more physical manifestation, like the shit they pull in Expulsions every Sunday.
I don't want any version of It anywhere near you. Any of you guys.
[ . . . he nods a little bit at that. it sounds quite spooky, a poltergeist that could be chasing down his monsieur richie. it's not enough to actually scare yves or anything but ]
... I understand. I'm still sorry you had to go through it, though.
Then he comes forward, pulling the guy into a hug.]
I'm all right, kiddo. Nobody's life is all sunshine and roses. [Nor are they rife with supernatural murder, or premature death and scars that make you outcasts. They're just lucky like that.] The way we left off, things just might be all right back there. Knock on wood, and all that.
[I'm rooting for you, Big Bill. And everyone else who's left.]
[ . . . it's not a happy answer but it's the honest one. so he shakes his head. ]
I'm content with where my life ended.
That's not to say that I think I'm just going to fade into nothing—the angels have encouraged me to think a little harder about what I could want, or where I would want to be...
I'm just waiting to see Adolphe again, to find out if we're going together.
[ because if yves really gets a choice, it's to be next to him ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
yves is hit with a bunch of things that he genuinely does not understand like supermarkets and rock and roll shows, but he does understand the very end as a threat. and he hates it. his eyes narrow immediately and there's a defensive edge to it, like he's not sure how to reach into the mirror and 1v1 this fucking clown.
when the memory ends, he turns to richie with a look of concern ]
Monsieur Richie, are you okay? That was...
[ he's not sure what that was, besides upsetting ]
no subject
Richie could be better. Really, it would have been fine to grit teeth through the whole gongshow if company hadn't shown up. Young company. Maybe too old for the target range, but wet enough behind the ears to amp up his own dread.
Then Richie gets an all new view of jumbo-sized, day-glo plastic mania and his knees nearly give out on him. He's leaned back against the mirror opposite, stiff and hunch-shouldered, schooling his breath into even pacing. His eyes roll to Yves', guarded. There's a tension in his face that reads less as fear than careful calculation.]
...I'm fine. I'm all right.
[He gathers himself together, upsie-daisy. Dust off your slacks old boy, you're steady as a rock.]
We're in for a fun week. Want to grab a bucket of popcorn and some candy floss?
no subject
but yves looks over to richie and slowly crosses the distance between them, placing a hand on richie's arm in concern. ]
If that's what you'd like.
[ yves will go along with anything ]
... would you like to sit for a bit first though?
no subject
He makes a face.]
I'm just spitting bullshit, don't mind me. Pretty sure candy floss would get my guts in a twist, sugar don't go down as sweet as it used to.
[Richie looks to him properly when he makes his counter-offer. He makes a face, straightening.]
No, no, I'm fine. I just — well, who knows what to expect around here any more.
Are you all right?
no subject
anyway ]
I'm okay. I think... I was a little startled, and a little confused but...
I don't want to push you to explain if you don't want to.
no subject
Yves...
[His mouth opens. He begins to shake his head, then wipes at his brow. Weary. Apprehensive.]
It's just complicated. All right? It's the sort of thing where the more you know, the worse it is for you. [Or it would be, if they were in Derry for real. The thing's a million miles away, but Richie wonders how long it'll stay that way. This week it's popping up in mirrors. What if it's his turn to step up for expulsion? What if the next week portals open to worse places? If the visions and the tricks get too solid to tell the difference anymore?] Ordinarily, you can't see it unless it wants you to. And it doesn't want you to unless it's trying to kill you.
It prefers kids. But sometimes, it'll make a run at a grown man too. Especially ones that pissed it off before.
no subject
[ with all these pieces put together. to encounter some terrible ghost when he was a child, and then to be haunted all his life from it. ]
If you told me more, you think I'd be targeted?
[ is it some way of trying to protect him? ]
no subject
[Not as gruesomely as it could have, but the job's done. Richie nods.]
Maybe I'm being paranoid, but I don't like the way things from your past keep getting dragged out here. Even if it's just an illusion. Or a more physical manifestation, like the shit they pull in Expulsions every Sunday.
I don't want any version of It anywhere near you. Any of you guys.
no subject
... I understand. I'm still sorry you had to go through it, though.
no subject
Then he comes forward, pulling the guy into a hug.]
I'm all right, kiddo. Nobody's life is all sunshine and roses. [Nor are they rife with supernatural murder, or premature death and scars that make you outcasts. They're just lucky like that.] The way we left off, things just might be all right back there. Knock on wood, and all that.
[I'm rooting for you, Big Bill. And everyone else who's left.]
no subject
... okay. [ tentatively ]
And do you... plan on going back, Monsieur Richie? To life?
[ he does realize he never asked ]
no subject
Anyway there's a bit of a pause.]
...I'd like to. If it'll help them. If nothing else, just to see the rest of them through.
[His lips purse.]
What about you?
no subject
I'm content with where my life ended.
That's not to say that I think I'm just going to fade into nothing—the angels have encouraged me to think a little harder about what I could want, or where I would want to be...
I'm just waiting to see Adolphe again, to find out if we're going together.
[ because if yves really gets a choice, it's to be next to him ]