[Anyway I don't know where Beau deposits him if it's in Winter or Spring or just on the ground somewhere but at like 4am there is a text sent from somewhere.]
I don't believe the gods are indifferent as much as unable to comprehend the things we worry about. It must be lovely to be a god. Everyone must definitely look like ants. Or squirrels.
Fate is most certainly real. I worry about whether or not my fate is simply ... course-correcting itself back onto the path it was always supposed to take. Maybe I'm simply fighting a current here. Hard not to see how those strange coincidences add up, isn't it?
Being dead isn't so terrible. I imagine it was peaceful. On the other side here, you're simply a passive observer, maybe forcing through a brief message or two. Oh - Maybe that's what the gods feel like, on the other side of their gate?
[Imagining him saying this all into his phone while Malik tries to sleep is making Caleb depressed. But he also suspects Molly needs to be drunk and away from everyone to have a conversation about these kinds of things, maybe.
He's a little drunk himself, but not enough not to return the message.]
I've seen gods intervene in the lives of our friends often enough that it should be easy not to doubt in them, but I do doubt.
I think it is the way I grew up. I was raised to believe in big things I was too small to be noticed by. The Dawnfather, the Empire, the king. I was also raised to believe my talents were meant to serve a greater purpose, a good purpose. And because I believed in those things and because I believed in that purpose I ruined my own life.
This is why the notion of fate troubles me. If what we are meant to be is a course we cannot turn away from or change then I am lost.
But I think we both have more say in it than that.
[He needs to be drunk but the kind of drunk where the fun has worn off, and it's just ... well. Emptiness instead. And he does need to be away from everyone. He'd joked earlier in the day to the rest of Spring that they were being dramatic. Moving just a 100 yards away to another building next door to sleep isn't taking a sea voyage to Tal'dorei. But right now, both Caleb and Beau feel like they're an ocean away.]
[Just sort of standing here, awkward. With the curse worn off, it's oddly hard to remember what is normal for them (in the whole day and a half they've been doing this) and what was just an effect.]
[There wasn't really a normal to have yet? The constant affection in public and everything might not be it (also if they keep doing it Beau's face might be permanently stuck like that), but the idea of it hadn't felt all that terrible. The opposite. It was pretty nice, actually. Just getting to be very soft on a person that you like and it isn't such a weird thing to do.
You know I got blamed for the bed thing? Why would I put any beds on the roof of my own feckin' dorm. No shenanigans happened when you weren't around Mollymauk. You're the one that's the eye of the chaos storm, you know.
[He looks really charmed by that statement, even with the bread involvement, just flopping down on the blanket and putting his hands behind his head.]
[He feels a little uncomfortable being called out as sweet, but in a strange way, this is the one thing he's done here that he feels a little proud of - inciting more of these ridiculous pranks, getting both dorms involved. It always makes him feel a little happy, too, when they fight over who gets to keep him. It's. . . very sweet.
Wrapping his arms around him, cuddling right back, pulling some of the extra blankets over them.]
. . . But what about you? Taking it a little harder than you wanted to talk about on Monday, maybe?
[He's laughing at first, at the ridiculous pranks and thinking about dorm revenge, but he goes quiet once he's asked that question. Hesitant, suddenly.]
It's true. What Aikawa was saying. You've got to wake up from the dream sometime.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
W5 - WEDNESDAY
I don't believe the gods are indifferent as much as unable to comprehend the things we worry about. It must be lovely to be a god. Everyone must definitely look like ants. Or squirrels.
Fate is most certainly real. I worry about whether or not my fate is simply ... course-correcting itself back onto the path it was always supposed to take. Maybe I'm simply fighting a current here. Hard not to see how those strange coincidences add up, isn't it?
Being dead isn't so terrible. I imagine it was peaceful. On the other side here, you're simply a passive observer, maybe forcing through a brief message or two. Oh - Maybe that's what the gods feel like, on the other side of their gate?
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He's a little drunk himself, but not enough not to return the message.]
I've seen gods intervene in the lives of our friends often enough that it should be easy not to doubt in them, but I do doubt.
I think it is the way I grew up. I was raised to believe in big things I was too small to be noticed by. The Dawnfather, the Empire, the king. I was also raised to believe my talents were meant to serve a greater purpose, a good purpose. And because I believed in those things and because I believed in that purpose I ruined my own life.
This is why the notion of fate troubles me. If what we are meant to be is a course we cannot turn away from or change then I am lost.
But I think we both have more say in it than that.
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Maybe.
Go to sleep, Mr. Caleb.
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I'll allow you the privilege of using the front door.
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[Honestly he'll just head downstairs as it is, trying to sneak out quietly enough he doesn't wake everyone up.]
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I didn't actually mean to wake you up and drag you outside at-- whatever time it is.
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[Just sort of standing here, awkward. With the curse worn off, it's oddly hard to remember what is normal for them (in the whole day and a half they've been doing this) and what was just an effect.]
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He gestures to the blankets.]
You want me to take those or anything?
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[A small amused smile.]
I thought we could find a good place to sleep outdoors. The, uhm, the way we did when I didn't have so many spells.
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Yeah alright. Sounds nice. Been too cramped indoors for too long anyway.
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I spent all my vouchers on healing some people so we could steal their beds and replace them with bread, so I regret that I cannot provide a tent.
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[He looks really charmed by that statement, even with the bread involvement, just flopping down on the blanket and putting his hands behind his head.]
Kind of nice anyway, open air.
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Afterwards, I texted all of them to tell them I was still on their side and to help them plan revenge on Winter Dorm.
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You're certainly having a good time with all of this, aren't you? For the kids is what you said before?
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[He feels a little uncomfortable being called out as sweet, but in a strange way, this is the one thing he's done here that he feels a little proud of - inciting more of these ridiculous pranks, getting both dorms involved. It always makes him feel a little happy, too, when they fight over who gets to keep him. It's. . . very sweet.
Wrapping his arms around him, cuddling right back, pulling some of the extra blankets over them.]
. . . But what about you? Taking it a little harder than you wanted to talk about on Monday, maybe?
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It's true. What Aikawa was saying. You've got to wake up from the dream sometime.
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[Just going to stay curled up with him while they talk this out. He can hide his face in his shoulder if he needs to, though.]