greywaren | IC Inbox for hadriel

Sure.

[To one or both of those statements- it's not really that easy to tell.

He'll be there, though- he's got nothing better to do and part of him feels like he owes Peter for helping him dig for so long. Ronan doesn't like feeling like he owes people, so it's best to just give Peter some company and get it over with.]

[funny, peter feels like he owes ronan too. but it's nothing some vodka and a cigarette can't fix, and he has both of those, sitting slouched on the steps outside the shrine. there's a vague plume of smoke over his head from where it hasn't quite dissipated yet.]

Hey.

[he clinks the bottle on the step beside him, where ronan could sit, and then offers it out.]

[Ronan doesn't smoke but he doesn't really care much about the habit in general- it doesn't bother him like it might someone else. He watches Peter with a critical eye for a moment before making his way toward the other man, his hands shoved in his pockets.]

Hey.

[Peter is unassuming, which is probably for the best. Part of Ronan- the part that went to private school with the likes of Kavinsky, whose former teacher was a murderer, whose current teacher is a murderer- that part of him is still waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Peter hasn't seemed to be that kind of person, and Ronan still isn't sure what to make of it.]

What's the occasion?

The occasion is that I am in possession of a bottle of vodka and just got a refill on my smokes, you seem like a guy who does one, the other, or both pretty well, and I figure I owe you one for helping me dig. Or me helping you dig. Whatever. Your friend Adam's a pretty okay guy too, and you got him out.

[peter is more or less the most unassuming that a guy who doesn't comb his hair and wears a bunch of layers of clothes and genuinely patched jeans can be. he more or less exudes a slightly wary sort of harmlessness beneath his sense of affability.]

[He doesn't speak for a moment, and his gaze on Peter is both guarded and invasive- but whatever judgement he's passing seems to be adequate at worst, because Ronan leans forward and snags the bottle.]

You met him.

[Casually, as Ronan moves to sit on the steps as well- close enough, far enough away.]

[if peter finds ronan weird or offensive in any way, there's no sign of it. he stays slumped and relaxed, eyes blinking as ronan swipes the bottle.]

Yeah. He helped me out of the coliseum. And we talked a lot--well, I talked a lot and he listened mostly--when he was buried. Maybe it helped some.

Maybe.

[Ronan echoes, but he's thankful even if he doesn't show it.]

How'd you get the cigarettes?

[it's a good thing peter doesn't expect gratitude. he doesn't expect much at all, in fact.]

Fear. We have a deal. I give him snacks and he gives me smokes. You want one?

[Ronan shakes his head, lifting the bottle demonstratively.]

I'm fine with this. What do you mean, snacks?

[peter gives ronan a suit yourself sort of shrug and takes another drag on his own cigarette.]

I give him fear--my own--and he gives me cigarettes. Reliving memories is apparently worth minor favors, and as long as I keep feeding him on a regular basis I never run out of smokes. Kinda surprised more people aren't doing the same thing. or maybe they are and nobody talks about it. Wouldn't know.

So, you give the self-proclaimed god who terrorizes us more power for smokes.

[Is what he's getting out of it. Ronan is a dick though, and he raises the bottle to his lips, taking a light swig.]

Can't imagine why other people wouldn't do that.

What're you gonna do, get mad about it?

[he gives a sarcastic snort.]

We're gonna feed 'em anyway, I might as well get something out of it. At least he's one of the smart ones. Not like anyone's lining up to feed Hope.

And feed Rage?

[As if Ronan doesn't provide her with plenty of power anyway. He shrugs.]

You think they're really gods?

Exactly. Like I said, if we're feeding 'em anyway...

[he shrugs, looks at ronan, and then shrugs again, more contemplative this time.]

I think it doesn't matter, cause they're sure as fuck bigger than we are. In the spiritual sense, I mean. Personally I prefer the one big guy in the sky deal, but the universe is a strange and complicated place and we aren't in Kansas anymore, Dorothy. Sure as hell not gonna worship 'em, but they're calling the shots.

You've gotta admit that they kinda suck at the god thing, though. Pretty clear they have no idea what to do with humans.

[Ronan snorts a little in half-repressed laughter, because it's true.]

That's about what I figure.

[He glances up toward the cave ceiling, his lips pursed thoughtfully. Quietly, not like it means anything, not like it's in anyway significant, he murmurs-] -I'm Catholic.

Mm. Technically that's my flavor too, but I was basically born uh, what's the word--lapsed. Don't even know who my dad is, so that's points against me right from the beginning. I figure I don't need more people telling me my sins. Life seems to work out consequences for my fuckups on its own, and I'll wait to answer to the big cheese Himself when I finally kick it.

You miss it? Church and stuff?

Then you're not. There's no 'technically' about it.

[Unfortunately, Ronan doesn't seem very impressed- but it's not really something worth getting angry about so he just shrugs and glances back toward Fear's temple.]

I miss- [-he misses Matthew, and the way Noah would come out for it, and sometimes he even misses Declan. He misses the direction, the surety. He misses the strangely-comforting act of praying with the knowledge that Adam was somewhere above him, doing his best to be quiet for the service. He misses a lot of things.] - knowing what's there and what isn't. Nothing is for sure here.

If you say so. I like to think that if God created all sorts of sinners and other shit that never made the Good Book, he's going to be a little more forgiving of us weirdos who do our believing on our own time.

[he nods, though. peter's definition of 'real' was very flexible, but it had still lost most of its grounding in this new world. so many new things were real, and so many things he'd taken for granted had lost their firm footing. oddly, god wasn't one of them.]

God is still there. Somewhere. I mean, that's sorta God's deal, being everywhere, keeping an eye on us.

Cool.

[Ronan does not sound interested, nor is he particularly inclined to accept any preaching from someone like Peter. He takes another drink and pulls a face at the taste.]

I was talking about this shit. These jerkoffs around here. [He shrugs, making a motion back toward the temple behind them.]

[thing is, peter doesn't sound preachy. he's just offering an opinion, not like it's any better or worse than ronan's. god's a complicated thing, after all, a surprisingly personal thing considering all the religion that goes on in the world.]

I guess that depends on where you set your bar for 'real'. They do like keeping us on our toes.

Guess that depends.

[He echoes before shrugging halfheartedly, taking another drink and scuffing his shoe on the temple steps.]

Any other words of wisdom?

[peter snorts.]

Words of wisdom. Shee-it. You think I'm one of those types?

Sure seem like it.

[Idly, and Ronan shrugs. He's the type of person to make snap judgments of people upon meeting them, and making him forego those judgments is more difficult than it should be. Not an easy person to befriend.]

You saying you're not?

Nah. I just offer my opinion to people who ask for it.

[peter drags on his cigarette and shrugs. it's hard to pin down what ronan wants from him.]

Fair enough.

[Peter invited him out here- as far as he's concerned, Ronan is here for booze and maybe getting to know someone who was useful in a pinch.

For now though, he focuses on the liquor aspect of all this and takes another drink from the bottle.]

IC Inbox for hadriel

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