Burning Me Alive [Mori]

[dane brock evans]

Dane was sleeping. It wasn't... amazing sleep or anything like that, but it was something. He was getting more than a couple hours of sleep at a time and he was actually sleeping without waking up in scream. He didn't know why though. Why did they randomly calm down? Why was it that he felt so comfortable with Moriel. He shouldn't. He should want to go out and get a job. Get his own place. He didn't though. He liked staying here. It was peaceful and he had someone he knew would help him if he needed it... and he still needed it. The nightmares were still there. Things still weren't right. He was still seeing things that he knew didn't belong... but he couldn't stop them.

He wandered around the lighthouse, he wasn't sure where Mori was at the moment... but he didn't need to be around him at all times. He wanted to find a good book, and after looking in a couple rooms, found a room with a lot of books in it. He started looking around. He didn't know what he was looking for exactly. Something to keep him occupied when he couldn't sleep. When he wanted to escape this creepy world. He saw a book on a higher shelf that looked... interesting. But he couldn't reach it. He held his hand out toward it and close his eyes, picturing the book coming into his hand. His powers were... different. He could make them work better when he was angry... but they were chaotic. He tried though, on the book. He shouldn't say he was surprised when about ten books fell on top of him. It still caught him off guard enough to get hit in the head by at least two of them and to fall backwards on the ground on his butt. He took a deep sigh and closed his eyes. Just his luck.

[Moriel Sarid]

He'd taken to napping in the light room. A relatively ancient but comfortable chair had taken up residence there some...well, he wasn't sure how many years ago. Back when he still needed to stay up there to watch the fire. The glass around the light hardly kept the cold ocean winds out, but with a sweater, some slippers, and his wings wrapped around him, he stayed quite cozy there.

Moriel had been catching more naps lately. It wasn't that he needed sleep. It wasn't like he'd die without it. But he functioned better with a few hours under his belt, and he found it relaxing and essential for processing day-to-day life. Nights had not been particularly restful for him of late, not that he was complaining. For the first week that Dane had stayed with him, the angel worried incessantly about the man, about his nightmares and lack of sleep. He woke up in the middle of the night to check on him, couldn't help it

It was in that first week that he started to notice a pattern. Even if Dane had looked restful, he seemed to calm somewhat once Moriel sat himself on the edge of the bed. He placed a hand on the young man's head once, and stroked his hair cautiously. It was what he'd done for his children when they were ill, William as well, when he was at the end. Almost immediately, Dane had relaxed, started to breath evenly. He slept soundly.

So Moriel kept doing it. He would wait until the nephilim was asleep and then crept into his room and sat up with him for hours so he could get some rest. He needed it. It was obvious to the angel that he had not slept well since before his capture.

Of course, he could hardly allow himself to fall asleep while he comforted Dane. The man was far too proud and stubborn to allow such intensive care, and if he found out, he would put a stop to it immediately, Mori was sure. So instead he took a few hours here and there during the day.

After waking from one such nap, he had just started down the stairs when he heard a loud thud coming from the library below. His wings carried him down to that level in just a few seconds, and when he stepped into the library, he was all at once concerned and amused by the sight that met him.

"There's a step-stool by the next shelf, you know," he advised. Moriel walked in and offered Dane a hand up.

[dane brock evans]

Dane jumped at the noise that came from the door when he heard it. Of course... he figured Moriel would have heard that, but hadn't thought about anything else. Like him coming in here. Well.... this was a bit on the embarrassing side. Dane sighed and shoved a book off his lap to take his hand up. "Yeah... uhm. I thought I would just use my powers and such. You know... easier. But... They don't exactly like me." Dane mumbled. He used to be quite good with his powers. Nothing overly fancy or anything like that. But he was decent. It wasn't until after he got captured and tortured that they started not working properly.

"I'll clean them up... sorry for disturbing you," he muttered. He didn't mind Mori finding him... but he felt bad for the books falling. He knelt back down on the ground and starting picking up the books that had fallen. The one that he was aiming for among the pile. He set that one aside and stacked the others neatly. "This was the one I was trying to get... It must have come out crooked or something when I tried getting it out." Okay... so that was a lame excuse why he was horrible, but he didn't like admitting weakness. At least, he thinks he doesn't. That's not a good thing. Right? Of course.

[Moriel Sarid]

Moriel listened to Dane's explanations and apologies with a curious expression, head tilted to one side. He studied him, that same penetrating look he gave everyone when he was trying to figure them out. His powers 'hated him'? This was new information and definitely an interesting development. Dane was old enough that he should have a handle on them - especially if he'd been using them in battle. If it was a recent development...well, it wouldn't surprise Mori if the PTSD had jammed up the nephilim's abilities.

"No need to apologize. Let me help you," he said. He held out his hand to push the stool closer with his aerokinesis, then decided better of showing off his own abilities when Dane's had just failed him. Instead, he went and retrieved it by hand, set it at the foot of the disturbed shelf, and climbed atop it. Moriel reached for the top book of the stack and started replacing them on the shelf.

He glanced at the book Dane had been reaching for. "Ah, De la Terre à la Lune - From Earth to the Moon," he mused with a grin. "A fine choice. You know, Verne essentially predicted the cold war arms race in that novel. A century off, but impressive nonetheless." When the last of the books had been replaced on the shelf, he stepped back down and looked at the book. "I don't remember acquiring the English version. Perhaps my daughter Carol, she always hated French."

[dane brock evans]

Dane went to protest but knew the efforts would probably be futile. Wasn't that just fucking great. First his powers didn't work right... then he seemed like a fucking kid. His face showed anger at first, but he stopped himself. Mori was just helping. There wasn't anything wrong with that. Well.... he tried telling himself that there was nothing wrong with that. He started handing Mori the books he dropped while he listened to Mori talk about the book he had picked. "I just thought it looked good from down here... so I wanted to read it." Dane muttered practically under his breath. What was he supposed to say? That was the truth.

He took another deep sigh. Why did it seem like everything in his life was starting to fall apart? He didn't have any one besides Mori, who was just showing him kindness by letting him stay here until he got back on his feet or whatever. Who knew if Mori really wanted him here or not... or if he was just a really good actor. It seemed like he was telling the truth... but Dane had been lied to before. Who's to say he wasn't lying now. "I'm sorry.. again. I... yeah. Thanks for helping me, Mori. I don't know what's going on with my powers. They worked fine before... and now they just... don't." Dane explained, his face sinking as he said it.

[Moriel Sarid]

He tapped his fingers on the book, fondly. "It's a good read," he agreed with a nod. "A story of scientific progress and discovery, ambition in the wake of war's devastation and futility. And impressively close to scientifically accurate, especially for the time in which it was written." And, okay, maybe Mori had a little bit of a hand in the accuracy - he'd been a total Verne fanboy back in the day and couldn't help but share his gift of wisdom with the writer.

Noticing the look of discontent on Dane's face, Moriel placed a warm hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Like I said, there's nothing to thank me for." As he'd expected, though, it was the trauma which had disrupted his powers. Moriel turned toward the window seat on the far side of the room and sat down. He tapped the cushion beside him in invitation.

"I believe, as do others of my kind, that these gifts we have are fueled by a sort of...holy grace within us. It's a manifestation of the power within our souls. For demons, of course, that grace is corrupted, turned into something hateful, but they are still able to command that power because their blackened souls are still whole, directed." He hoped he wasn't getting too metaphysical for Dane, but it was the only way he knew how to explain it. "A soul in conflict is weakened."

[dane brock evans]

Dane would have to take Mori's word for it that the book was a good read. He had been looking for something to occupy his time, and maybe a book was it. If he said it was good, then Dane would at least give it a try. It couldn't be terrible. Dane didn't exactly have a favorite genre of books, he read whatever he felt like reading and that was all there was to it. Probably because he didn't have a lot to choose from when he was in the war. He had to do something and that something often involved reading a book.

He followed Mori over to the couch and sat down next to him. Pulling his knees to his chest and sitting like that. He listened as Mori talked in what he assumed to be an answer as to why his powers didn't want to work at the moment. He got what he was saying... but it just seemed off. "I just don't understand. Sure... conflicted or whatever. But all I wanted to do was take a book down... yet I couldn't even do that after I spent time in the war moving weapons around so the opposing side couldn't shoot us. I just... It went downhill and I don't like it. My powers stopped when I was captured. My luck, right? I couldn't think or concentrate or anything." Dane muttered. He hated himself so much... he buried his head in his knees and hid his face from Mori. He didn't want to show his face to anyone.

[Moriel Sarid]

Moriel shook his head. "You can't rush things. The mind and soul take longer to heal than flesh and bones. It's a process that takes work and patience. You'll get there." He placed a comforting hand on Dane's back, wishing there was more that he could do than tell him to wait. But it's all there was to do, wasn't it? There was no magic wand to wave, no kiss to wake sleeping beauty, no heels to click to take him back to where he had been.

All he had were stories and time and comforting gestures. So the angel offered him what he had. "My daughter Carol, the one that probably bought this-" He tapped the book. "-she was telekinetic as well. When she and her twin brother were in their twenties, he died in the war. For weeks, everywhere she went, objects would start falling off of shelves and flying around. She couldn't control it. Her mind was such a haze..." Moriel smiled sadly. "But, with time, it improved. She had to work on control for a while."

[dane brock evans]

When Moriel mentioned something about flesh, Dane's hand automatically moved to the scar that decorated his face. His finger traced the line he knew for sure was without difficulty. It was a force of habit. He leaned into the touch on his back and didn't realize his body followed in. He was soon leaning his entire body against Mori's side, he would have moved from embarrassment, but he didn't seem to have the energy to do so.

Moriel had a daughter that was telekinetic? Dane supposed he shouldn't be that surprised by it. It wasn't that big of a deal when someone like Moriel probably had a lot of children. He was old... even though he didn't look it. It wouldn't take much to have a lot of children, and one was bound to be telekinetic. Dane had seen pictures of Mori with different wives, a lover even. It made him wonder, and he decided it was a good change of topic. "How many people have you married? I see the pictures..." Dane just wanted to talk about something else. He hated feeling so weak in someone else's eyes. He wanted it to go away. He wanted things to be different. He looked at Moriel from his spot at his side. He was comfortable here.

[Moriel Sarid]

The warmth against his side was comforting - he was getting somewhere with Dane, he was sure. Moriel watched as the man's fingers traversed the length of the long, jagged scar on his face. It pained him to know that every time Dane looked in the mirror - for the rest of his life - he would be reminded of how cruel people could be.

He took the hint, though, and moved on to easier topics. Well, easier for Dane in any case. It was still difficult, on occasion, thinking about all those he had lost over the centuries. But today was not one of those days and Moriel was happy enough to share.

"Ten wives," he responded, voice even. "And two male lovers. Of course, I couldn't marry either of them during those times. There are only photos of the last four because cameras were rare before then. Mary, who you knew, William, Emma, and Eliza. Before that there was Oliver, Lucy, Sybil, Anne, Temperance, Chiklah, 'Ilm, and Fazila." Mori gave a lopsided smile. "I know it sounds strange to mortals - having loved so many times. But I've had plenty of time to do it."

[dane brock evans]

Ten wives? Dane didn't know why he found that to be a lot. Moriel didn't age... He wasn't mortal like Dane was and even though it was foreign to hear, he shouldn't find it difficult to comprehend. He listened to the names of all the wives and the two lovers. He didn't find it odd that he loved all of them. Love could come easily if you let it. If you open your mind and let the people into your life, then there wasn't a reason you could love someone. Or at least pretend to love someone. Actually being meant for someone was a completely different story.

"Do you think any of those were your soul mate? I mean... I've loved my friends before. When I... When I had them. Love doesn't truly mean anything important. Not in my eyes at least." Dane added the last part as a thought. Did he believe in love? Maybe love was just something completely different in his eyes. Maybe it didn't mean a thing in his eyes, maybe it meant the world but he was too afraid to admit it. "I mean... isn't the whole saying supposed to be like... there's one person in the world for you. That you have one soul mate. What happens when you live more than one lifetime? Is the person like... reincarnated or something. Is it one person, or is that whole myth a lie." Maybe part of Dane wanted to know there was one person out there for him. One person that would be able to make him feel better, no matter how much he hurt. Love him, no matter how much he was broken. He wanted the hope.

[Moriel Sarid]

Moriel was actually surprised by Dane's questions. Usually wat came first were things like 'how do you remember them all?' Or 'how could you stand to keep losing people like that?' To ask about the love itself...well, it was a bit refreshing. "To be honest," Moriel told him, answering slowly, not sure what he'd say even as he said it, "I'm not entirely sure if I believe that. At the time, each and every one felt like an essential part of my soul. I can't imagine any of them missing from my life."

It was a difficult question. He had once been asked if he liked any of them more than the rest, and Mori couldn't think of a response. Because he couldnt compare them. "I can feel each of them, still. Perhaps, with one lifetime, you only have that one hole in yourself to fill with another. For me, as an immortal, I've needed them all. Whenever I begin to think I'm whole, I meet someone that makes me realize an emptiness I never knew existed until they were there to fill it."

Perhaps it was overly idealistic. Perhaps the truth was that Moriel needed to be with someone, that he couldn't bear the loneliness that came with his immortality. But whatever the real reasons might be, he believed what he told Dane. He had needed them: every wife, lover, son, and daughter.

[dane brock evans]

Dane didn't know if he believed that. Different parts of him being filled by different people throughout the lifetime of a fallen. It just didn't sound right to Dane and it definitely didn't help him in feeling better about there being someone out there. He wanted to feel the peace that came along with being so in love with someone. To be able to have had so much wrong in your life and not care anymore. To have a scar on your face just that. A scar on your face that won't go away but that doesn't cause you to break down every time you look in the mirror. Dane took a deep sigh and in consciously leaned against Maori a tad more.

"I guess I wanted to believe there was. I know you're an angel or whatever. But I feel like it should be the same for both of us. And it either isn't or Theres no hope any more." Dane might be a little on the pessimistic side. But when you've seen humanity at its worst... when they're cutting open your face because some stupid kid decided he wanted to be normal and fight for his city like his friends. Some stupid kid that only wanted to fit in no matter what. That kid would pay for the rest of his life. Pay for trying to conform and fit in.

Dane hated being so vulnerable around mori. Hated being this person that couldn't seem to be completely normal. The only thing he wanted was to forget about what happened to him. Yet he felt so torn apart that he didn't know how to even start putting the pieces back together again. He wouldnt know how to even start. He wanted someone to do it for him. He wanted to find someone that wouldn't care about him coming in pieces.

[Moriel Sarid]

He knew he hadn't said what Dane wanted to hear, but he wasn't about to lie, wasn't about to lessen what he'd had with any of his past loves. "Maybe it's true, he offered. "Maybe it's different for each of us. Or maybe love is just love and destiny has nothing to do with it. Just because you weren't fated to be with someone doesn't make those feelings any less important."

He wrapped an arm around the mortal's shoulders, a massive wing curling around his back as well. "Fazila, she could not have been some great, fated love." It was a rather large admission for him. "The marriage was arranged by a man I worked for. She was only fourteen and I had just fallen. We were like strangers for a time, but came to a deep love and respect for one another. That's not the same sort of love you're talking about, but it doesn't devalue either type, I don't think."

Questions of love and soul and fate were the sort he grappled over even after centuries of contemplation. There was no equation to solve the heart.

[dane brock evans]

Dane looked back at the arm and wing that had enclosed him almost. Was this acceptable? Was this something... normal people did? It didn't seem normal. Dane wasn't entirely sure what normal was anymore though so he just went with it, it felt nice, even. He wanted to believe in something. Whether it was fate or destiny or anything. He just wanted to have something to believe in, was that so hard to have? Apparently. He took a deep sigh before slowly reaching his hand out to wrap around Mori's middle. He stopped before he actually set it there, however. Did he do this? Was it acceptable? Dane didn't think it would be bad... He set it down and snuggled into Mori a bit, not too much.

"I don't think I could ever do an arranged marriage. I feel like a marriage should be with someone you believe in fully. Someone you love and someone that accepts you. I may be damaged right now... completely torn up on the inside, but that's the one thing I want to be a for sure thing. That I want to be true." Dane said in practically a whisper. He meant it... didn't mean he wasn't embarrassed about it coming out of his mouth. A tough guy like him shouldn't admit something like that.