A Real Scorcher

[Donovan Ackerman]

“Getting’ stronger makes things easier. Don’t mean there ain’t sacrifice along the way though,” Donovan said with a certainty that came from hard experience.

“Anyway, havin' that will to survive; that’s just the beginin’, like I said. Once you got that feelin’ in your heart, you… add glamour to it. Not sure how else to describe it that’s not confusin’.” How did you describe turning what you felt in your heart into sunlight and Summer heat. “The glamour gives you control. Let’s your feelin’s become real. Let's you take that heat and move it. When it's too hot, you shrug it off. When it's cold, you dig down deep and work harder so you don't feel the cold.”

[Quick]

Quick's face is close to flushing. He can feel the heat behind his skin. Donovan isn't just some dirty drifter; he's the kind of person James, Mark and the rest of the crew could never be. They had too much to prove. It was far from honest. He blinks.

"I, uh... think I can work with that." he says, coming back from his internal loop. His hands find his pockets as he continues walking.

"So, Donovan. How long it take you to find this place? After, you know, we talked about it." The Elemental smiles coyly. "Didn't figure I was the tour guide type. Most people just smile and nod when you suggest things."

[Donovan Ackerman]

The sun continued to bake down. With luck Quick was feeling as hard he was. Taking the lessons to heart. Feeling the heat and controlling it.

“Not long to find. Ain’t that many community gardens ‘round Sacramento,” Donovan stated factually with a half-smile before turning to find Quick smiling back at him with cheeks almost blush.

“I… uhh… erhermm.” The revaluation that Quick was actually available was still there in Donovan’s mind. The lessons he'd been teaching so far about heat suddenly took a new and more complicated meaning. “Is this… are you…. flirtin’?” Even after hearing the name Mark; even after flirting to certain amount already; there was still the uncertainty looming over Quick’s words. Sure there were all the shirtless comments the Woodblood had their tour. That didn’t amount to serious flirtation though. He'd promised to help find ways of 'beating the heat'. And the hurt of Hearthfire…

“Sorry. Just want to be clear. Are you… interested… in me?” Donovan had played the clubs enough before leaving Austin. Quick could have anyone he wanted. At least compared to the Wizened. Donovan knew who he was. A manure covered, straw scratching, shit smelling lesser Wizened. Not a cut Fairest; or whatever Quick was.

[Quick]

Quick blinks a few times. Not the typical coming-back-from-cloud-nine blink; more of a realization. He's never lacked in confidence. There is something different about Donovan.

"Straightforward, huh? Alright. Guess you surprise me. I've been homeless for a while, you know? You don't do things the same way." His hand strays to the back of his neck, trying to find the right words. "It's like you're honest. True. I'm anything but. That's kinda cool." Though he's been out of practice in pursuing anything more than a pleasant distraction, Quick finds himself grinning. "So yeah. Sure. Maybe I want to get to know you."

[Donovan Ackerman]

Donovan stopped walking through the garden. Whether Quick continued on or stayed by him didn’t matter. The Woodwalker could only stare at the pathway. He felt dirt beneath his feet. The sunshine on his skin.

“I…,” why was Quick here? Was this some Wyrd ploy to learn Summer’s secrets? Was it genuine? Was the Wizened simply sitting next to another Hearthfire?

“Why did you come here?” he asked, not truly caring for the answer. There were only two answers after all. Anything but. Quick was either here to learn or to… something else.

Excrement filled half the air around the Donovan. An electric charge filled the rest. It made him uncomfortable.

[Quick]

"Gonna sound stupid..." he says, hoping the warning will suffice. "I just do things sometimes. I don't know why. It's like a, what? Polarity? I used to be lightning. I mean, fucking lighting. I'm just drawn to places. I move. Don't know why. Same thing with Sac. I just... went. It felt right. Had a pull. You... have a pull." He can't even be certain if that's entirely true. The Wyrd has its ways. As does electricity. It really doesn't help that he second guesses himself so much.

"What's that mean? To you?" he asks, a little embarrassed now. Why is it so hard to explain why he does what he does? The Wizened can't understand, can he? The reality ripping terror and exhilaration of being a force of nature. "I don't understand me. But... I wanted to come here. And, guess I'm glad you were here."

[Donovan Ackerman]

Donovan’s brow furrowed. He knew well the pull of the Wyrd. You ended up at places. Coincidences conspired so that you ended up meeting a bunch of Changelings when you got to town. The Hedge paths led to where you wanted to go. Or where you most desperately did not want to go.

“It don’t sound that stupid. I got some idea of what you mean. Though probably not exactly.” He wondered if it was an Elemental thing. “I worked the land. Never was land,” he said with a small smile that didn’t seem to know what it was trying to express.

“But I do keep workin’ it,” he went on after a few seconds of silence “Keeps me grounded. Kinda part of who I am.” He imagined it would be similar for Quick. "Arcadia had made me into somethin' and now I still keep bein' that something here. Helps keep me sane in a strange way."

“So as for me havin’ a pull would mean it’s just you bein’ you." He paused and grunted a bit.

"Though it also sounds a bit like a Wyrd setup if I’m bein’ honest.” Although he would never have guessed was that one friend that thought you would get along with the only other gay guy in the Freehold because you both liked men. He gave an apologetic shrug and smile. “Sorry. That probably don’t sound too romantic.” Quick follow his impulsive heart while recognizing a kindred spirit did sound better than meeting because crazy fate wanted you to hook-up for some fairy tale romance.

[Quick]

Quick smiles, in spite of himself. Nice that Donovan doesn't think he's being stupid. Frankly, the Elemental hardly understands himself. And Donovan has to be older than he is. Right? Sure as hell acts more mature. Kind of cool.

"Heh. Romantic? Don't think that's a problem. Been on the road since, well... Manhattan. Life hasn't exactly had room for 'romance'. Fun, sure. Had plenty of that." He smiles, but it soon fades into an uncertain look. "That's not, like... negative, right? You seem like the honest type."

The Elemental averts his eyes. This wouldn't be so damn difficult if Donovan wasn't so damn... different. From himself. Like a cleaner - God that's ironic - version of himself. He'd have to come clean. Might be the only way to feel less awkward. Even if he's likely to be rejected.

"You've worked hard, right? Arcadia. That farm-boy thing you have going? Gardening?" He shakes his head. "Know how I've spent my life? Before and after!? I hurt people. Sure, I thought those people sucked... but I hurt them. Took advantage for fun and money and whatever else. Stuff I was, you know, lacking. And I've killed that... that thing! It was like staring death in the eyes. My own fucking eyes." Quick stops, breathing heavily. He waits for an agonizing few seconds before continuing, sure that Donovan is going to high-tail it out of here at any moment.

"I've got nothing to be proud of. Thief. Cheat. Slut. Murderer. Whatever else you can think of. On top of that? I can't stand what I've become. Being grounded? It feels right. But it's a lie. It has to be! I hate it!" Tears start pooling in his eyes. If Donovan could see the crackling, glowing orbs that his eyes truly were. Hear the tears crackle and sizzle as they vaporize in place to form only vapors. Feel the jagged projections growing from his shoulders. Would he run? Donovan's own emaciated form, covered in dirt clods and smelling like a barnyard... they seem like nothing compared to Quick's own transformation. And the Wizened doesn't even seem ashamed. What kind of monster has Quick really become? Inside?

He blinks more than a few times. Coming back from a terrible internal spiral which Donovan hadn't even been privy to, Quick shakes his head. "Sorry. I... I can go. You didn't need to hear all this. Nonsense." Fuck this Winter bullshit. Embracing his Sorrows can't be worth it.

[Donovan Ackerman]

“Like negative what? Foolin’ ‘round or not havin’ time for romance? Cause neither. Probably not up for serious relationship myself, what with my fetch and what happened with Hearthfire.” The Wizened shrugged. It was the truth and frankly it help to know where each of them stood.

“You ain’t a murderer. It was a fetch. They ain’t people. Literally ain’t people. They’re made of brickabrack and Fey illusion. May have looked it but they weren’t yer eyes. You’ve got yer eyes.”

The Elemental’s next flash of outburst, Donovan’s expression was oddly neutral. Almost stony. Even when Quick paused during his head shake, Donovan didn't answer. He seemed to be considered what to say. Or maybe he was lost momentarily in memory or a similar conversation.

“I’m goin’ to offer some advice. By my guess you ain’t goin’ to like it. Worse, even if you accept it, it ain’t goin’ to change anythin’. Not right away anyhow.” That was the worst part. Even if Quick did listen, feelings didn't just change over the course of one conversation. Saying 'yeah that's good advice' didn't mean you immediately started to live it. Donovan exhaled through his nose like he was preparing for battle. When he spoke there was a surety to his voice.

“Hatin’ things you can’t change don’t help. There ain’t anything for it to beat so it just sits in your belly, scorchin’ you till you either explode or burn away. Like this heat. You gotta accept it or all yer gonna do is be miserable the entire time.” Maybe a bad example but it was the first to come to mind.

“That grounded feelin’. All that happened in Arcadia. What it made us. How it changed us. That ain’t a lie and it ain’t goin’ away. You can either accept it or deny it and spend the rest of yer life with empty rage.” Was that an odd thing for a Summer to say. Not to embrace hate. Donovan had dealt with similar feelings before. He knew the danger they posed.

Donovan paused. He wanted to see how Quick processed what he’d just said. There was more the Woodwalker could say. About shame. Changing what you could. For Donovan though, the key to Quick’s trouble didn’t lie in shame. Well, not entirely. It lay in denial. The whole time he'd known Quick he'd rarely seen his true form. Donovan had assumed it was just caution on Quick's part. That was now obviously not the case.

[Quick]

Quick nods slowly. "Alright, yeah." For all the Elemental knows, Donovan's hurt over Hearthfire could still be fresh. Manhattan felt like forever ago, even though in truth it hasn't even been a year.

He wants to agree with Donovan. Killing that thing doesn't make him a murderer. But the intention might as well have been murderous. "Yeah, well... still feel guilty about it. It didn't look like junky and fairy-dust when I, you know, had my hands around it's neck."

The next bit, Donovan's stone-faced answer, invokes all the discomfort and impatience of sitting through a school lecture. And, of course, he's a particularly mercurial student. Quick may be listening, but he doesn't meet the Woodwalker's eyes much. His thumb traces over the tips of his fingers frantically. And a little internal heat flushes the back of his neck - adding to the already uncomfortable day. A few beads of sweat form on his brow and he quickly swipes them away. It eventually occurs to him that Donovan is waiting for something. An answer? Quick blinks, swallows hard.

"You're probably right." he starts, leaving a big unspoken 'but' in between. "It's different living with it. Knowing right from wrong? Easy enough. Doing something to change... that's harder." For a Summer, Donovan sure is all about acceptance. Way to buy into stereotypes. Donovan has shared enough with Quick to dispel stereotypes. But what does Quick really know about Seasons anyway?

He's quiet again for a moment, risking normal eye contact before adding another question. "Not to... put you on the spot. But, um, were you always comfortable? With the change?" His head wants him to go into detail about using a tiny bit of Glamour to not appear dirty all the time, but he holds his tongue. Quick's hang-ups aren't Donovan's. If pride were an issue for the Wizened, he probably wouldn't have reached for a stranger's plate of fries with his cloddy hands. The meeting at the Diner seems so long ago, now. Quick catches himself in a loop and pulls himself back out - lest he miss the answer to the question he's just asked.