chaos theory

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»  Sing Like Nobody's Listening, w/ ira
years old 51 posts

When at last he found it in him to approach the now-familiar house overlooking the beach, Suibhne was still trying to tell himself it was just to return the clothes he’d borrowed over a week ago. He’d thought of just leaving them on the doorstep, of course, but the terror of going back at all and the worry that they might somehow be taken before Ira found them had kept the outfit in his care perhaps far longer than necessary.

Of course, he’d be lying if he said that was the only thing keeping him away. Ira’s last words had left him with a lot to think about, and even more hurt to work through. He knew he was stupid. He’d heard that often enough, even before coming to Mythril. But knowing that he’d been lied to for so long, over and over— that Nevan had lied— made it so much worse. Even now, the ache had yet to leave, but sometimes it was at least easier to ignore.

Like now, when he stood before what felt like the jaws of death, clutching carefully-folded and cared for clothes to his chest while he waited for the other siren to answer the door. In the silence after the bell stopped ringing, some of Ira’s other words came floating to the surface, too.

Sirens were made to sing.

You know where to find me if you want to learn.

He’d been thinking about those a lot, too, as much as he disliked admitting it. They’d been written in anger and delivered by force and yet… Beneath the thought that he’d be stupid to follow them, too, something like hope flickered. Or maybe it was longing and desperation. Suibhne wasn’t sure, but whatever it was wouldn’t let him forget about the possibility in the offer.

The click of the door opening told him he could think long and hard about it later. Ramrod stiff, he waited to finish his delivery.

ira morgenstern
idk what the title is but here you go
years old 37 posts
closing his eyes, ira feels the cold, malleable clay beneath his hands. it’s comforting, therapeutic even. enclosed in his own little world, ira can feel his frustrations ebb away with the flow of clay. it shapes easily behind the force of his capable hands.

the sharp ring of his doorbell disrupts his bubble of serenity. ira tenses, putting too much force behind his hands, and the elegant vase crumbles. his irritation returns threefold.

who was calling on him at this hour? it’s the middle of the day, but the number of people who would show up unaccounced could be counted on one hand.

(zero. the amount is zero.)

staring in the direction of the door, ira considers leaving the stranger out there in the punishing afternoon sun. the siren reconsiders after a moment, getting out of his seat with a great amount of dubiousness. taking his time washing his hands and collecting some writing tools, ira secretly hopes the stranger at his door got impatient and left.

ira has no such luck.

opening the door, his expression sours further as he recognizes the familiar face. he doesn’t have to guess why suibhne appeared on his doorstep. witha burning glare, ira silently steps aside, tapping his finger against a crossed arm. he doesn’t have all day.


years old 51 posts

Several minutes passed while Suibhne lingered on the doorstep, shrinking into what shade he could find near the door to evade the heat of the sun. No answer, and nothing to peek through to see if there was any movement inside. Maybe… maybe Ira wasn’t home, and he should try again later. The clothes would probably be fine in his care for another hour or two. He could just—

A click at the door interrupted any plans for retreat, and the look Ira gave him as he appeared on the other side had the younger siren wilting even further. Just… just hand over the clothes and leave, he told himself, chewing nervously on his lower lip. It’s not that hard—

But now Ira was stepping aside, apparently inviting him in despite the stormy glare on his face. Despite his better judgement, Suibhne meekly obeyed, shuffling inside after some hesitation with hunched shoulders and downcast eyes. Once past the threshold and out of the way of the door, he turned and presented the bundle in his hands to Ira, careful to remain at arm’s length as he muttered, “Um… here. I th-thought you’d… uh— want this back.”

ira morgenstern
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