though it's been said many times, many ways

[more_magic]

It’s strange to think of where he was a year ago, exactly. Waking up in Alex’s bed, hung over from the shame of the night before and the lingering effects of whatever Manuscript had given him, preparing for his first full day in a city outside of the world he knew and realizing in the process that he’d lost nearly two months in the space of a breath. There were more shocks to come, more alterations in what he thought to be true, but very little had managed to surpass the disorientation of that initial beginning to his tenure in Darrow.

Back then, Darlington had wondered what they might have done at home, if Alex would’ve been on a plane to California at the start of break--or if he might have managed to convince her to stay, to spend Christmas at Black Elm with him. What they got instead was better, that makeshift celebration with hastily-bought gifts and the smell of a half-remembered recipe wafting from Alex’s kitchen; the start of something new, even if neither of them had known the depths of that newness at the time. And now, a year on, through hard work and some kind of miracle, he gets what he’d wondered about after all.

Christmas Day will be just for them, presents and breakfast and relaxing by the fire, but tonight is a chance to celebrate. They decorate the main floor of Black Elm, filling the rooms they’ve already managed to furnish with light and warmth, the tree they’d bought earlier in the month standing by one of the large picture windows in the great room. Alex cooks all of Estrea Stern’s recipes she can think of, adds a few of Bernadette’s that Darlington remembers from his childhood. There’s music low on the stereo, a fire lit in the vast fireplace, the new table and chairs they’d bought for the formal dining room arranged just so beneath the chandelier at the center of the room. Even Kirby gets into the spirit in a new, festive collar, bright red against his black fur.

Above all, they’ve invited the people that matter, the few who have come to mean something--to one or both of them--in the year that’s just passed. It’s the first real party Black Elm has seen in many years, not since Darlington’s grandfather was alive. It feels, once again, like starting something new.

[[tag in, tag around, enjoy the party!]]

Comments

[more_magic]

The backpedaling shouldn't be as satisfying as it is, but Darlington lets himself appreciate it just for a moment. "It wasn't the gift I expected," he says, "and from what I've learned it's definitely an unusual one, but I'm glad to have it."

The contrast between his gift from the city and Alex's is still deeply unfair; trauma from the latter, and overwhelming delight from the former. There are days when Darlington would trade every hour he's spent at Black Elm for the sake of redressing that imbalance, letting her have something other than a fractured, bloody weapon to remember her life at home. But exchange is not how this kind of magic works, whatever power fuels Darrow and guides the patterns of their lives here, and until he learns what does all Darlington can do is make sure few things hurt her like that again.

"I'm sure if you catch Alex on a break at work, she'd have photos to show you," he says. "She did a lot of the painting upstairs while I was in class, so I know she has some good in-progress shots." He takes another drink of his eggnog. God, it really was good. "Have you started yet? You're bartending, right?"

[scarequotesreggie]

Reggie waves a hand in the air a little noncommittally. He's committed himself to starting, at least? Committed himself to finding a job that does slightly more than just pay him money, one that might actually be remotely enjoyable on a personal level for a change?

"Bartending and emceeing, yeah. I'm just, you know, transitioning life phases right now so there's a little heel-dragging involved."

For such an entry-level gig, it feels an awful lot like finally committing himself to Darrow for the long-term, somehow.

[more_magic]

"I know how that can be," Darlington agrees, because even if the situation isn't quite the same--or so he imagines, given the impression he's gotten of Reggie so far--he can sympathize with the broader picture. "Just being in Darrow at all is enough of a shift from whatever anyone leaves behind."

[scarequotesreggie]

"Right? That's what I keep telling people!" Reggie exclaims, gesticulating passionately over his egg nog kingdom. Granted, 'people' in this case mostly consist of his dad's voice in his head asking him why he's not making something of himself already. And yeah, okay, his dad's voice in his head is starting to sound more and more like his own voice in his head reminding him that he's constantly getting older and there's nothing he can do about it. That's all beside the point, surely. "The real world was hard enough to deal with, is there really a 'correct' timeframe when it comes to adjusting to whatever coma dream this place is?"

[more_magic]

"Coma dream's a new one," he says, though Darlington's aware it's as plausible an explanation as any others he's come up with himself. "I think of it more as a pocket universe, some liminal space between wherever you've come from and somewhere else entirely."

It's the same explanation Sandow had given Alex in the aftermath of whatever happens in Rosenfeld Hall, but the parallels are sound. Slightly morbid, maybe, but if he can fall into one there, he can have done the same now. Hopefully with a better result, this time.

[scarequotesreggie]

"Guess it's as good an explanation as any," Reggie replies, shrugging mildly. It sounds a little over his head, honestly, but he doesn't like to think about things like that more than absolutely necessary. He also kinda hates that it's necessary to think about things like that at all, but that's life.

Apparently.

"I like mine because if all this is in my head, it means I don't have to be nice to anyone," he adds, flashing Darlington a wink.

Or maybe it means he should be nicer? He's never lacked for self-love, after all.

[more_magic]

There's that self-interest again, the loud braying of a personal philosophy that Darlington hoped--but didn't trust--was mostly for show. Forget the frat parties; all at once, Darlington's glad neither Manuscript nor the Bonesmen ever got wind of Reggie.

"That's one lesson to take from it."

[scarequotesreggie]

"Yeah, I'm a regular student of the world," Reggie smirks. "Still, even if I have no idea what's real and what isn't, I've been stuck here too long to shut myself up over it. You can't spell solipsism with just the one I, after all."

Hence: nice parties with friends!