(2019-02-10) Fate Is Bogus
Fate is Bogus
Summary: Bronwyn offers wisdom to Besa
Date: 2019-02-10
Related: None
NPCs: None
Scene Runner: NA
Players:
besa..bronwyn..

Sunday evening and Bess finds himself alone mediating on the rooftop of the academic building. He's facing east, awards the ocean. The temperature is warmer around him, having cast a warmth rune already. Cocoa was left snoring in his bed, the pooch is tired, he had a panic attack last night, so she was up for most of it trying to keep him calm. Legs crisscrossed, his hair blows gently in the cold air. The stars are out in full force tonight, sparkling up the night sky.

Speaking of Besa panic attacks, out comes Bronwyn onto the rooftops. She is talking into her ear mic…there must be a phone nearby. "One of the other students is /really/ good at singing. Maybe we can get her on backing vocals to start with? And there's another girl who can do fancy things when she sings songs. Too much to go into now. But I'm going to write her some songs." A pause. "Yes, I can write songs." She doesn't look happy that it was suggested otherwise. She glances up to see Besa, smiling seductively even if he can't see it. "Someone here I need to talk to. Ciao."

Besa's dark eyes open slowly, Bron's voice carries. He takes a deep breath, not looking over yet, steeling himself for what comes with Hurricane Bronwyn. He focuses on teh ocean and stars, "Hello Bronwyn." He didn't find what he was looking for in meditation today, but he also knows that it's going to take many, many nights for him to find what he needs.

"Besa! How did you know it was me?" Bronwyn slinks on over to the boy, reaching out to ruffle that perfect hair a little - she's envious. "What are you doing out here? Anything exciting?" She can't seem to see any party apparatus. "Oh, doing yoga? I do yoga. Good for the dancing." A little wiggle of her eyebrows. "I can do the splits. Just keep that in mind."

Besa tenses at the touch, pulling his head away. It's not even that it's Bron, it's the ruffling. "I heard you speaking when you came up. I am not exciting. I am just…meditating. I have had much to think on lately." An eyebrow raises and he looks up at the girl, "Do you? Briar and Callisto do much of it. I do sometimes, but it is not…I am not always…good at it." He frowns and then sighs, head shaking and looking away, "Please, Bronwyn. Let us be friends." Apparently, he knows what Bron means by the splits, or at least is guessing.

"We /are/ friends, Besa" Bronwyn looks confused for a moment before shrugging and sitting herself down in front of him. "You are /totally/ exciting" she smiles sweetly. "But it sounds like you have issues. I'm here to help. What have you been thinking about lately? People always say I am wise beyond my years. I even do a teen-help column on an Italian website. Pretty cool, huh? So I can help you for sure."

Besa sits a little straighter when she's suddenly in front of him. But then her offering to help in a teen help column kinda way is funny and it makes the courner of his mouth quirk, "I do not think it is a typical problem." Although, she thinks he has issues? What does that mean? "It is nto anything I think anyone else can relate to, fortunately." Unless there's another mummy out there, which he hopes not.

"That's what they all say. Everyone thinks they are the only person who has the problem and the only person who has ever had throughout time" Bronwyn states patiently in her consoling tone. "So tell me what is up, and we will get through this together. That's what 'friends' do."

Besa stills, her words a lot like Sky's. And that's not a good thing. "Bronwyn. I am the only one who has lived my lives! No one can…" He stops, shaking his head so his hair flops before he turns to look somewhere else, jaw clenched slightly. "I am not looking for pity. I am looking for answers." Fingers twitch before he reaches up and presses his knuckles into his chest near his heart. It's an unconscious move. She wants to know what's up? "The dreams have started back again. Of going to Hell. Of …. Alraxmargoth'ha" That last word does not sound like any word from a. Human language.

"I don't do pity" Bronwyn smiles. "And I am the only one who has lived my life. Doesn't mean I haven't done anything other people have done. Or who can offer advice to help me with my variation of the issue." And then she listens intently, nodding solemnly to his words. "Hmm…are you eating cheese before you sleep? That can cause bad dreams. You've done this before though, right? And you got through it fine." A shrug. "So you'll do it again. That was an easy one."

Besa stills, but it's not in anger this time. Maybe a small part of him was hoping she could dispense advice that would help, but then he deflates, looking small and younger than the 16 years his body is (currently). "Yes….I have done it before." Does he really have to do it again? Is that what this all means, "I…I do not wish to, but….I will again if I must." His knuckles press harder into his chest, even though his heart has been healed, he still gets phantom pains. "If the artifact is a portal to Alraxmargoth'ha's hell… And the dreams …perhaps I am fated to go back."

"Or, you know, you could just not go through it" Bronwyn suggests with her pop star smile. "We all /choose/ what we do, Besa. There is no fate save what we decide. You don't have to do it again if you don't want to. A dream is a dream. You can make it important if you want, or you can go 'I shouldn't have had that last chocolate before bed time'."

Besa stopped talking about Fate after the twins yelled at him. It's just not something people believe in anymore, another thing that operates him from everyone else. "I will meditate on it." He doesn't sound very excited for it. In fact, he looks like maybe he's in the beginning stages of a panic attach, if his white knuckles mean anything.

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