raisetheearth | Happy Birthday My Olde Friend [August 24] [Shepherd's Haven] [Open]

Who: Lazarus, Nathan, Misa, OPEN to anyone in Shepherd's Haven or who might drop by
Where: Town Hall
When: August 24, Monday
What: Just because Tony stalked off doesn't mean that they aren't still going to be celebrating Nathan's 20th birthday. Look at the kid. You'd have to be a dick to even imply that he was born at an inconvenient time.
Warnings: Probably the most depressing birthday party ever.
Status: Ongoing/Open. Set your own threads here! Have fun! Or try to.

The day before had been a mess. Not only had Lazarus' doppelganger resurfaced after a full year of silence, effortlessly bringing infected sore points to the surface and sowing gleeful discord in his wake, but Tony had left on bitter and angry terms, accompanied by Richard. Understandably, it's cast a pall over the settlement, but as always, there are other things to think about, matters of obligation and the heart.

Nathan is turning 20 today. Lazarus remembers it blearily as he wakes up hungover. Dragging himself out of bed, showering, and dressing, he mentally runs over all the things he needs to do today.

See Misa about a cake. Get some toys from Woodend. Generally announce that this is happening, and above all, don't forget to smile.

He glances at a mirror and gives it a shot. His dry, pale skin, cracked lips and deep undereye circles don't make it look particularly encouraging. He fights back a wave of nausea, taking a quick seat, deciding that he can wait for it to pass before he tackles today's priorities.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No, hoping is usually not enough to pull off things like this.

The thoroughness is mostly unintentional, simply how each of them tends to look at people, but as soon as his eyes had caught the first hint of a hangover, he'd instinctively searched for other cues. It had been a necessary thing back home, to gauge a sobriety level, work out what could be expected from it.

He hates that the instinct had gone to work here. This is an entirely different situation. He allows his eyes to settle on the cake in the hopes of disguising the fact that he's averted them.

"She did." That, at least, is honest. "I am not particular about flavour. I'm sure it's fine."

Edited 2015-08-27 05:44 (UTC)

Lazarus, at least, is not a violent drunk, at least not toward others besides himself on account of his wide self-loathing streak. And in all fairness, being hungover is nothing like being drunk, just the shadow of an illness betraying that one was drunk at a point in the recent past. He's stone cold sober, even if he'd probably be steadier on his feet and less queasy if he wasn't.

"Fine isn't what we're aiming for," Lazarus says, tugging at the strands of bristly hair on the back of his neck. "The day you were born should be a happy one, even if unhappy things happen, sometimes."

Nathan knows these things on an intellectual level, but habits are hard to break. And even with just a hangover, with how awful it must feel to have one, it had still been wise to tread lightly if he were not in the mood to deal with harsh words should he have made some kind of mistake.

But this is different and he needs to stop.

He stops his hand from reaching up to play with his own hair. "It should. Honestly, I do like most flavours."

Edited 2015-08-27 06:29 (UTC)

Habits are hard to break; Lazarus is on the opposite side of the coin, having spent years using substances to cope with feelings of helplessness and loss. Even though he's been to rehab, it is still his first instinct to medicate his emotions, and, being a mere human, he sometimes can't resist it. Ironically, in trying to hide his weaknesses this way, he shows a different and far more disappointing kind of weakness in front of someone he desperately wants to be strong for.

"...do you want to talk about what happened with Tony, Nathan?" he asks quietly, the inanity of the conversation beginning to reveal how distracted they both are by the elephant in the room. "Whether you would, or you'd rather put it far from your thoughts, I will respect it."

He wishes he could turn the instincts off when he knows he does not need them. No one in Shepherd's Haven has ever hurt him, and he can't help but feel unreasonable when he allows himself to behave this way.

Nathan shrugs a little helplessly at the question. "I do not know what I want."

It's difficult to think of anything else, but thinking is different than talking. On the other hand, their attempt at normal conversation certainly isn't going anywhere.

Unreasonable or not, it's innate, reflex and associations that are old and deep. Lazarus can understand them better than most, and if Nathan told him about the way he reacts to implications of alcohol, he'd make an effort to help. As it is, he needed help last night and turned to someone who could help (Misa) and something that only felt like it (the bottle.) He'd had too much. He regrets it now, but last night it had felt like a good way to escape the madness of the day, if only for a few hours.

"Nathan..."

That answer is infuriatingly incomplete and unhelpful.

"...hey. I don't know what you want either, but if this isn't it, you'd better say something, and I'll work on figuring out an alternative course of action. This is about you."

Nathan is unfortunately very close-lipped on this particular topic, not wishing to foist his own problems onto somebody else. He's told Tony, but only in the wake of the doppelgangers causing a terrible misunderstanding and argument between the two of them. He'd felt like he'd owed him the explanation for why he'd reacted so badly.

He has to make a decision here, doesn't he? Perhaps he just needs to stop thinking for a moment and let himself say whatever comes out first. That would be the best indicator of what he really wants, wouldn't it?

And now his fingers do wind into his hair. "... He left my gift on my doorstep before he left."

So. He supposes they are going to talk about it.

Lazarus stares; whatever he expected, it probably wasn't that. What is the appropriate way to react to that kind of news?

I'm sorry?

What was the present?

Was it a paper bag on fire?

"...I see. How do you feel about... that?"

What is the appropriate way to react to anything? That is a question both of them so often face.

"... I think he was trying to say he wasn't mad at me."

It isn't quite the same as what he feels about it, which is a question he is unsure he can answer. But he cannot keep giving uncertain responses. But Tony had been so upset over everything, it would have been quicker and easier to just storm off. It has to mean something that he'd taken the time to leave the gift for him.

"Nathan..." Lazarus takes a seat at the nearest table, gesturing for Nathan to join him. "I realize this isn't the most cheerful topic, and I don't want to push you, especially today. But it makes no logical sense for Tony to be mad at you, and I want to know how you feel about his departure."

People aren't always logical. Emotions can make people the opposite. Lazarus himself has pointed this out. Tony has been so agitated in general lately that some part of Nathan would not have been surprised if there had been something about him that hit had him the wrong way.

But that is his insecurity talking.

He sits when prompted. "... It's upsetting."

The simplest, most accurate answer he can think of.

Lazarus is glad that he at least is doing that much, following directions meant to make him more comfortable and relaxed on a day when he really should be both.

"Of course it's upsetting," he concurs softly. "And not just because he's acting in a way that doesn't make sense. You're friends, and... he's my friend, too. I feel it. I hope that he remembers it and comes back, even if he probably won't today. Sometimes people just go through things and have to work them out alone."

Happy Birthday My Olde Friend [August 24] [Shepherd's Haven] [Open]

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