Ishiah (
priorcommitment) wrote2011-04-08 01:06 am
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and somehow we told him what to do, but he won't ever listen to you
Ishiah was in the middle of quite the quandary.
He'd taken up a seat on the rec room couch some time ago, with the intention of finding himself some text to read, something to pass the time between then and his shift at the Hub. While for weeks, Ishiah's priority had been trying to find a way off the island, in those days he found himself pressed with the more immediate concern of looking after one Caliban Leandros. Filling, some might have accused him of, the void left behind in Niko Leandros' wake, and trying to provide as much normalcy to the young man's life without deliberately calling attention to the way that their group was broken. Only half of the membership it once had— or not even. Caliban was, however, singularly the most frustrating person Ishiah had ever met, even more so than Robin Goodfellow in recent days, and so sometimes the peri needed a good break from all of his worries, finding some textbooks on birds, or a birdwatching manual, anything that could provide him with a reprieve. That day, however, the bookshelf had decided not to comply.
Instead, all of its shelves were filled with a series on parenting, the modern couple's guide to helping their child through his formative years, step by step. Upon seeing the spread, Ishiah's expression had immediately turned into a frown, one laced with confusion.
"I don't understand," he said, moments before he heard someone else enter the room. "Is this trying to suggest that Caliban is a child?"
He'd taken up a seat on the rec room couch some time ago, with the intention of finding himself some text to read, something to pass the time between then and his shift at the Hub. While for weeks, Ishiah's priority had been trying to find a way off the island, in those days he found himself pressed with the more immediate concern of looking after one Caliban Leandros. Filling, some might have accused him of, the void left behind in Niko Leandros' wake, and trying to provide as much normalcy to the young man's life without deliberately calling attention to the way that their group was broken. Only half of the membership it once had— or not even. Caliban was, however, singularly the most frustrating person Ishiah had ever met, even more so than Robin Goodfellow in recent days, and so sometimes the peri needed a good break from all of his worries, finding some textbooks on birds, or a birdwatching manual, anything that could provide him with a reprieve. That day, however, the bookshelf had decided not to comply.
Instead, all of its shelves were filled with a series on parenting, the modern couple's guide to helping their child through his formative years, step by step. Upon seeing the spread, Ishiah's expression had immediately turned into a frown, one laced with confusion.
"I don't understand," he said, moments before he heard someone else enter the room. "Is this trying to suggest that Caliban is a child?"
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Relying, as she usually did, on her sparkling wit, Buffy wasted no time in attempting to cheer Ishiah up, wasted effort though it might be. Why she graviated toward the stoic ones, she would never truly understand. “Maybe it’s trying for a not-so-subtle hint at something,” she suggested, nudging down at the shelf. Eyes soon widening, she gasped, “You don’t think... Ish, could you be pregnant?”
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"Buffy," he greeted with a soft nod, before his expression turned into one of greater confusion, perhaps even a touch of horror as he cast wide eyes toward the bookshelf. "I don't think that's... it isn't possible. I can't— well, I am capable of procreating on the island, or so I've heard, but I'm pretty sure I would have the opposite. Role."
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Unsurprisingly, she took her time regaining what composure she could, aided by many a deep breath and brush of fingers through her hair. She hoped that Ishiah wouldn't mistake it for her teasing at his expense, but as grave as he could be, he did also happen to be rather unflappable. Either way, she had needed this, unable to recall the last time she'd had purpose to laugh so much and so freely. It felt good, fleeting though it might be, to be able to just let go for a moment and enjoy herself, not dwelling on what she wasn't doing and who she didn't have here.
"No," she said at last, shaking her head, "You're right. I don't think even the island has the power to bend the laws of biology so thoroughly — and creepily. Unless it interprets that as a challenge, so just let me clarify that it so wasn't, not even a little bit."
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"I... didn't think that you were being serious," he managed carefully, staring closely for any hint of a reaction on Buffy's end, before he gave up, setting that question aside entirely. "The very thought alone was still— at any rate, you might find yourself surprised. I've read most of the records available on the island, and sudden, inexplicable, and fortunately temporary sex changes have happened before."
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"Agreed," he says quietly, stretching out on the couch, resting his elbow against the back. "No reason to tempt forces which have already brought us here against our will. But that aside, how have you been? It's been some time since we last spoke."
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"You mind going first?" She isn't quite sure where the question came from, or how it managed to escape her lips, but then it's out there and there's nothing she can do about it. Just smile and hope that Ishiah won't take it the wrong way. She's not unwilling to talk about herself, just not ready quite yet.
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Fortunately, he trusts Buffy enough that he doesn't mind being the first to open up, a rarity for Ishiah in specific.
"I..." he sighs, looking over at the bookshelf again. "After months of feeling aimless, I now have a purpose once more, but it has come at the cost of Caliban Leandros losing his brother. Thus, the trade-off isn't for the better. But I do feel less lost than before, if no less overwhelmed."
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"How is it going? With Caliban, I mean, is he — Are you, the two of you in general, the royal you... s. He strikes me as stubborn." Hopefully, Ishiah won't take her statement the wrong way, meant to sympathize more than pass judgment. On the one hand, she's dealt with stubborn before, Dawn embodying the word in ever way, shape, and form. On the other, Buffy herself can be hardheaded sometimes, where sometimes means oftentimes and oftentimes means just about always.
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"He's extremely stubborn," Ishiah confirms, with a slight quirk at the corner of his lips. "And coming from someone who has worked by a large population of single-track minds for thousands of years, that is making quite the statement. Caliban, at current, is under the very firm impression that Niko having a life away from him would make things easier. That Niko had never deserved to be saddled with the weight of a rather, let's say, high-maintenance younger brother."
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"You disagree," she guesses, her thoughts returning at last to Ishiah. In some part, it's true that she's diverting from having to talk about herself, but there's so much about Ishiah that's mysterious, she can't pretend not to be interested.
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Gaze lowering, he takes a slow breath.
"I think that the world doesn't work in a manner where all under the sky receive what they deserve. All souls are made equal, yet cannot wake up in the same bed, with the same family... and instead, what should be respected are the choices one makes as they go through life," he slowly explains. "Niko, having had Caliban in his life, would not wish for his younger brother to disappear from his life. That is all that matters."
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The way that he speaks, she gets the feeling he's though about it before, that he isn't just thinking this up on the spot. He knows whole lot about and even bigger lot, though, so it's hard to say for sure whether he's speaking from knowledge or experience. All stoicness aside, though, he has always been relatively forthcoming with her, something she definitely appreciates, and hopefully there's no harm in asking.
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After a pause, he turns, gaze grazing over her eyes. "But when one becomes peri, the relationship changes. It's a family of choice, not merely of obligation or nature. I had many brothers, all younger than myself, all of us working in one establishment and keeping close together as we adjusted to a mortal life. One of them passed away recently, and that's been its own experience as well."
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"We can move off the subject, if you'd prefer," she suggests, admittedly a bit uncomfortable herself. Too many emotions and all the time in the world to dwell make for rather unhealthy combinations. "Besides, I just asked, like, twenty questions, you deserve a turn, too."
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Pausing, he tilts his head.
"You have a sibling of your own, don't you? What was that relationship like?"
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Plus, it's always flattering when a cute guy wants to 'better know her,' even if said guy is still mourning the loss of his boyfriend. (Boyfriend, she reminds herself, just in case it didn't sink in the first few times. She would conveniently forget such a key detail.)
"Dawn," breathes Buffy, answering the question with a purposeful nod. "We fight a lot," she continues, mindful to remain in the present tense no matter how long it's been since they were last together. "Not fight, actually, that sounds too dark. More like... squabble. She likes to borrow my clothes without asking and always eats the last of the cereal but never throws away the box. And lately she's taken to teasing me for being shorter which doesn't even bother me because I've been this height my whole life, I'm used to it, I take pride in my height or lack thereof. But just in case, she's not allowed to wear heels."
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It's strange, not entirely knowing oneself.
He runs his finger against his lower lip in thought. "My relationships with my brothers were all quite different from what you've just described. Fighting between us would always be serious, worthy of deep concern," he muses. "Which is not to say that conversations about height and cereal don't deserve their own time, only that if one ever hears that two peri are fighting, usually preparing for a physical altercation is necessary. Debate isn't our strong suit."
After a pause, he adds, with a furrowed brow. "For what it's worth, I also see nothing wrong with your height."
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"Thanks for that," she laughs lightly, opting not to point out how easy it is to disregard matters of height when one towers over all others in sight. He only meant to cheer her up, a task he's succeeded at quite well if she might say. "If Dawn ever pops up here I'll be climbing on your shoulders just to win arguments," she adds, sticking her tongue out mischievously.
"Is that a widespread angel thing," she wonders, "the not being good with debate? Not that I'm planning to challenge you to one, but you don't strike me as... undebatable." With a sigh at her own choice of words, Buffy waves a hand as if to clear the air, then clarifies. "What I mean is, you seem understanding. To me."
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That's not natural, yet. But it's getting there.
"I would say that it goes beyond widespread," Ishiah considers quietly. "It has to do with the very way we're created. When you have rules and principles etched into your very mind, there's no need for debate. It's black and white."
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She doubts his commands tell him to fight and kill; he isn't the Slayer. Death is not his gift.
Lost in thought, it's a while before she remembers it's her turn to speak; when she does, it's to pose another question in hopes of distracting attention from herself. She's busy, now, wondering what monsters hide beneath her skin. "Is it still like that now that you're human?"
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There's no textbook for that type of thing.
"I don't know whether or not being human can be credited," Ishiah answers honestly. "I don't know what type of difference being human has made in specific. I do know that becoming peri granted me that free will, and with it, grays and colors became more clear. If anything, however, I feel that being human limits that view. There are some decisions one simply can't make. And others one is forced into."
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"Yeah," she mutters at last, followed by a solemn nod. "Yeah. I would say that's... accurate."
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Only when she finally offers her agreement, nothing more than that, does Ishiah slowly let out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding at all. "If I have, I didn't mean to upset you," he says, still struck by her quiet tone.
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With a deep breath, she tries again: "Sometimes you say things like that and it's like, like you're peering into my soul." She cuts herself off with another small laugh, shaking her head softly before adding, "Not literally, of course, I know you're not a mind reader. But there aren't a lot of people like me. Like us. This whole being understood thing, it's kind of new to me."
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It's one of the words that has always triggered a negative response from Robin. While it doesn't sound like all worlds have the same stark divide that Ishiah's own does, the fact is that soul, to Ishiah and most others from his world, is something which only believers of God have. It's a way of marking God's creatures as His own, and providing them the chance to receive their ticket past the pearly gates, whenever it comes to be time for that.
Robin can't ever enter Heaven, doesn't technically have a soul. And there's a certain hopelessness that comes with considering that fact. Someday, the two of them will separate for good.
No way of finding their way back.
"I assure you," Ishiah says at last. "I'm making no special effort to look into any soul, yours or anyone else's. But I agree that... in one way or another, there's a lot that the two of us share. It's freeing, I would say, knowing that others stand on roughly the same ground."
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Ishiah's voice jerks her out of her own thoughts, and she is happy for the change in tone; the current topic isn't the happiest, either, but it is a definite improvement. "For a long time, I thought I was just doomed to be — Okay, this sounds lame but I can't think of a better word than misunderstood. I mean, it's right there in the prophecy, I guess: One girl in all her generation. And even when that part flaked out, when there were two of us, it was pretty obvious we weren't supposed to exist together. We spent more time talking with our fists than with our mouths, if you catch my drift."
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Maybe, Ishiah thinks, it means that none of them are quite so strong.
But there's someone who's come into his life recently, who provides a shred of an idea what it might be like. Ishiah's head tilts back as his eyes trace over the ceiling. "I think I understand, conceptually. There is a great deal that holds Caliban apart from everyone else in the world. He doesn't fit in. He plays a potentially crucial role," Ishiah says quietly. "It hasn't been the same for me, not even as one of very few angels who chooses the path of a peri."
His eyes narrow as his gaze brushes over Buffy. "But I also don't think you're the type who's meant to be alone, whether or not others can fully step into your shoes."
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"Well, you know what they say: You can't take the motor-mouthed cheerleader out of the girl," she jokes. Maybe that's where the line went wrong, really, having called a girl so stubbornly committed to living out the life that she wanted. To hear the Watcher's Council tell it, friends and family are the two greatest weaknesses a Slayer can possess. In Buffy's own opinion, they are her greatest strengths. "You know, Ish, you're pretty good at this whole listening and cheering up thing."
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There are certain types of listening that he does well. Passively, Ishiah's capable of taking in just about any information, processing it silently, in the back of his mind, and gleaning the important factors for future use. It's a skill very necessary to run a bar that's open to all creatures of all backgrounds, to be able to see the red flags where they exist and help iron them out before things truly take a turn for the worse.
The notion that he can provide a listening ear for more than that, however, strikes him silent, his eyes clouded with confusion as he glances at Buffy. (He doesn't even remember when it was that she started calling him Ish, and that drives a bolt towards his stomach as well, a shock of realization. Friendship is one of many things that sneaks up on a person. He didn't see it coming, this time.)
Lips curving, he nods. "I am glad you think so. Although I'm not sure when, along the line, I've picked up such a skill."