( CLOSED )

[obstinance]

Who: clary fray (obstinance ) & various
What: october event and accompanying shenanigans
When: october
Where: various
Warning(s): stupidity

[ closed catch-all for shenanigans. starters in comments; feel free to pm me or pp romanoff if you'd like to do something. ]

Comments

[obstinance]

More than ten minutes. [ a few hours, give or take, but he doesn't need to know the in-depth details of her (fruitless) attempts to stand still. the bite to that correction speaks volumes of her mounting frustration — not necessarily toward peter himself, as much of a factor as he is, but the entire matter at hand — but she doesn't pull herself back or make any apologies for it. sarcasm begets sarcasm, first and foremost, and she's done him the favor of resisting the urge to roll her eyes or knock his hands away. ]

And I've been to the Sanctuary before you bring it up next. There are people here that need those beds more than I do. [ just by being strictly human, but she's not so eager to insist she's anything but ordinary in that regard. ] It's going to be contagious no matter where I go or what I do, anyway.

[ she's already gearing up to her next point, no holds barred, but it feels laughably hypocritical to be lectured about the contagiousness of it all when he's the one reaching out to her. ] I know that you know that, too, or did you forget to practice what you preach?

[ not knocking his hands away had been a kindness. jerking out of his hold isn't, but it's the only way she can manage dislodging his fingertips from her shoulders without directly making contact. at the very least, she hasn't run off again. ]

[webdesigned]

( yeah, he shouldn't touch her. he shouldn't touch Cheryl, either, and it's definitely too late for that. at least with Clary he has the defense that if he didn't, she'd just walk away... though does he really have that excuse? probably not. he's more than fast enough to catch up with her if he wants to. she wiggles free, and he doesn't stop her, though if she'd tried to walk away again there's a perfectly good chance he would have done it all over again. )

I'm not going to suggest it. I'm going to suggest you go home. ( he absolutely ignores the accusation he's forgetting his own need to stay away from possible infection. either he's given up on the idea of not catching it, or he doesn't care if he does. neither idea is particularly promising. )

Running around isn't going to make this better, Clary. You're going to make yourself feel worse. Argue all you want, but I've seen enough people do it to know. ( he's been desperately trying to piece the answers together, all to no avail, and nobody really knew how bad VIOLET could get — it wasn't smart to push it to the limit before they had any idea what it could do. )

If this needs a cure, we don't have it yet. You could push yourself too far and there will be no way to pull you back. ( he's been sharp, he's been sarcastic, those are all great covers for the panic he can't manage to hide in his reminder of the potential consequences. if Clary gets how dangerous it is to be pushing herself like this, not just for the people around her but for herself as well, she sure isn't acting like it. )

[obstinance]

You're right. We don't. [ she can concede that much — and without flippancy, at that. there isn't a cure, and there might not even be a cure to ever speak of if it's been designed for an attack of this scale. pretending otherwise would be pointless and callous in equal measure, but it isn't a sufficient reason for her not to carry her own weight when all of olympia is scattered and chaotic. ] But I'm not going to stand aside and let everything go to hell.

[ the steely conviction in her voice brokers no argument at this point. regardless of the situation, it's only natural to be more concerned for innocents and the people she's come to care for than herself. ]

I'll slow down when I need to. I know my own limits. [ she's too adamant that she won't collapse in the street to undermine it by taking note of any bodily aches and the cold sweat gathering beneath her layers of clothing, but peter doesn't need to know that. ] Considering you're out here, too? I don't know if you can say the same about yourself.

[ which is a much nicer manner of suggesting he's a hypocrite rather than say it outright, but the point still stands. ]

[webdesigned]

So I'm supposed to be okay with you running yourself into the ground and potentially spreading the infection because you know your limits?

( he isn't, and as far as he's concerned, she doesn't. she's probably not wrong that he's a hypocrite, and that's what makes all of this a little more uncomfortable than he'd ever admit to. still, despite the fact he's pushing himself too hard, when push comes to shove he always does. that's his responsibility, and he can't ignore it, even if he wanted to.

at least, so far, he isn't contagious. that's more than Clary can say. )

The people who aren't sick need to keep working. The ones that are need to rest and try and keep any more of Olympia from getting sick. I know you want to help, okay? If I were you I'd probably want to do the same thing. But you have to be smarter than that, because this isn't helping anyone. Especially not you. ( he's worried about everyone — it's impossible for him not to be. still, maybe he's a little more worried about Clary than the average citizen of Olympia... much to his own discomfort. )

[obstinance]

It doesn't matter if you're okay with it. [ as bluntly as it's phrased, the gentleness to her tone is almost a contradiction. does she care if it causes distress to those that know her and — for reasons she can't discern for herself — care for her? undoubtedly, and the guilt that sits like a stone in her stomach affirms that much. she can't not care, but it won't keep her from her ideals. ] This isn't about what you want for me, Peter.

[ olympia isn't her home, and it might be distinctly lacking in anyone she's ever known — alec excluded — but it's becoming one. the absence of her mother, of luke and simon, of jace and izzy and magnus, is something she still feels potently, but that ache is only a reminder of what she should be doing — and it doesn't include watching the people around her being hurt. she's witnessed it far too many times to be comfortable holing up at home. ]

If you can't trust that I know what I'm doing, then you obviously don't trust me.

[ and that's another issue in its entirety, isn't it? ]

[webdesigned]

( she's far from the first girl to say that to him.

maybe that's why it cuts so uncomfortably deep, because he can remember a girl nearly as headstrong telling him that he didn't get to decide what she did, that it was her choice and he could help her or get out of her way. advice he'd followed, in the end, and should he regret it now? that's what Gwen had wanted, the freedom and the trust, and she'd died for it. so was it wrong, to listen — or was he the only one that was ever wrong in that situation?

he hates this, on pretty much every level. the idea that she'd run around making herself sicker in attempts to help, that more people could get sick because she was so determined to do it her way, the thought that maybe she could push herself too far and there would be no coming back from it. but she's right, its her choice to make, and not his — it's the same argument that convinced him to bring Gwen along to the power plant she'd died in, and it's the same argument that stills his opposition now.

he won't look her in the eye, but the way his shoulders drop show the fight seems to have died. ) You should get yourself a mask. Gloves aren't going to cut it, its transmitted by fluids. ( that's it, that's all he has left. he won't stop her if she tries to plow off again. )

[obstinance]

[ it's a victory, albeit a hollow one, though she's uncertain what consequences she would prefer. if he had made any move to force her home, she would have stewed in resentment — but adamantly insisting that he allow her to do as she pleases, at the cost of peter bearing a grudge, isn't any more pleasant or comfortable. ]

I have one. [ in her pocket, but she doesn't fish it out of her jacket. it begs the question of why she isn't wearing it now, but too few people are willing to divulge information to her when she's visibly affected. without it, she can at least pretend she isn't a fragile mess, but skulking about without looking overtly suspicious is admittedly another advantage.

she doesn't storm off after that reassurance, though maybe it would be simpler if she did. instead, she's silent for a period that seems to stretch uncomfortably. ] I'm sorry. [ it's a sincere apology, even if she doesn't clarify what she's precisely sorry for. she isn't sorry for feeling obligated to protect anyone in any way she can, and she isn't sorry enough to stay at home until someone announces a cure, but she's still sorry. ] There are good people looking out for me when they can. You don't need to worry.

[ never mind that those good people have been just as displeased by her behavior. even if that's the case, they've still forced their care on her in their own ways, and maybe that will provide some evidence that she isn't running herself completely ragged. ]

[webdesigned]

( maybe a second ago, he'd insist she wear it if she's going to keep on with this. for her sake, for everyones sake. if she's cognizant of how contagious she is, then it doesn't make sense that she doesn't get how much danger she's putting the rest of Olympia in by not wearing it... but he's already said it, hasn't he? she knows, and he can't make her change her mind.

he's expecting her to go. it'd probably be easier if he had. Peter looks at her hopelessly for the apology, because he couldn't begin to guess what she's sorry for. he's sorry too, though he's no more sure why than she seems to be. it's the second bit that earns a bitter laugh. ) You know it doesn't work like that, right?

( he's not going to stop worrying just because he's resigned himself to the reality she won't listen, and it isn't his job to make decisions for her. it's not surprising there are other people in her life trying to convince her of the same thing — it's not really comforting to know she's not listening to them either.

he shakes his head. there's no more he can do here, so he just needs to go. drawing out the conversation isn't going to make things better. if he keeps pushing at the institute, if he keeps looking for associates, if he keeps pushing period... something will have to give. he just has to keep working until he finds something that will help. ) Try and get some rest soon. ( that's the last thing he has to say, before he sidesteps her this time to head back into the dark. )