Phantom faces at the window, phantom shadows on the floor

[skeletonenigma]

Characters: (CLOSED) Skulduggery Pleasant, Erskine Ravel, Anton Shudder, and the fourth-wall Dead Men.
Date: April 15-30.
Location: Throughout Keeliai, but mostly in Erskine's new Earth Sector shelter.
Situation: The Dead Men haven't created something lasting together in a very long time. It's led to some spectacularly stupid decisions. This? This is their chance to fix things.
Warnings/Rating: Intimacy / non-serious flirting between grown men, some jokes of a sexual nature, massive spoilers for the entire Skulduggery Pleasant series (but notably the last two books), mentions of murder and betrayal, gratuitous amounts of violence and punching in response to said mentions of murder and betrayal (the Dead Men actually communicate by punching each other in the face). Also, broship. Lots of broship.


With Erskine and Skulduggery's relationship somehow even more strained than it was before Skulduggery vanished for a month, and Erskine growing maybe a little too dependent on Anton while living at the Hotel, the Dreaming's been getting a lot of wishes -- subconscious or otherwise -- for the arrival of very specific people.

They arrive on the 15th, scattered around the turtle. Over the day, they find each other, two or three at a time. There are hugs. There are punches. And when they all come together, they spend most of the following two weeks helping Erskine build and prepare a shelter for the kedan -- in between needing subtle reminders that the point of the reunion is to forgive each other.

Or, if not forgive, at least accept each other, flaws and all.

Comments

[scryinghope]

Hopeless shook his head, half to throw off the contrary opinions, the wallowing grief and guilt--and, above all, the resounding, aching question of how did we come to this? It was the one thing in which everyone was united, and the bitter wonderment of the thought was cutting.

"That's enough," he said, softly but with carrying tones, so they could all hear it. "That's--that's enough. No more hiding. No more assuming. Just--"

He stopped suddenly, and blinked, as a pair of very familiar minds oozed through the Hotel's unique interdimensional positioning, and his face turned toward the door into the lobby just before Dexter burst in. He was dragging Rover with, almost bowling Skulduggery over in the process.

Dexter stopped short just out of the doorway, his chest heaving and mind only clear due to that single-mindedness which was, frankly, exactly what Hopeless had just been talking about--an element of running. Dexter's gaze fell on Anton, and then on Ghastly ... and then on the rest of them, on Hopeless and Saracen and Skul and--

Dexter stared at Erskine for a moment, and Hopeless felt it when his mind ticked over from 'bursting emotional dam' to 'complete and total shutdown'. He shook his head and opened his mouth and nothing came out; so he sagged instead, with an exhaustion not just physical, and went to prop up Bespoke with a hug.

"--stop running," Hopeless finished. "It's time to stop running. Everyone. Just ... please."

His head hurt.

[larrikinism]

Rover wasn't far behind Dexter, and initially his reaction wasn't all that different. He'd dreamed of this happening before, the last time, all of the Dead Men together in one room. It hadn't happened. So he'd taken photographs -- or, more accurately, forced innocent bystanders to take photographs -- in the vain hope that if anyone else did arrive, they'd at least have photographic evidence Rover was there.

But now, after it was finally happening, when he could look around and see everyone all together, not a single face was happy. There wasn't a single smile. And all because Dexter told him that Erskine --

-- n o p e.

For anyone who knew Rover well, the change could be visibly tracked on his face. His expression flickered from surprise to shock to fear to cheer, all in a split second, and he turned that cheerfulness on Hopeless with all the inevitability of the sun rising in the east.

"Running?" he asked. "Running from what? From you? You're supposed to be dead, you know. We should probably all be really wary of you. But running?" He grinned. "Since when have any of us run from something that could kill us? You must be thinking of some other ragtag group of gorgeous men out to take the world by storm. Also, for the information of everyone here, with the exception of maybe Descry, you're all two prongs short of a gardening fork. Or is it a trowel? I don't remember which is which."

"Fork," Skulduggery said from near the doorway.

There were tears in Rover's eyes -- but they were happy tears, damn it, they were happy. "Fine. Fork. The point is, you're all idiots."

[edgeoftheknife]

Even in the midst of this pile of misery that had been heaped upon them all (which wasn't fair at all; getting back together ought to be a happy occasion, not something so suffused with anger and pain) Erskine found the presence of mind to cringe internally at what poor Hopeless must be suffering through. He hadn't had to worry about the emotional state of the others in the unit for a century--no one's except his own, and what a Sensitive might glean from him. How he could shield himself, if possible, and avoid suspicion through guile otherwise. Now it was all coming back, tinged with the kind of nostalgia that made the heart ache.

As if it wasn't aching already.

If it hadn't been for Dexter, Rover's appearance might not have been so painful. Rover hadn't been there for the worst of it all. Rover was nothing but cheer and affection and Erskine would have gladly accepted a hug... if it weren't for Dexter. Ghastly. The rest of this mess. But Dexter had seemed more than willing to cut Erskine down on the spot after Anton and Ghastly's murders and according to Saracen, Vex himself was dead now too. Erskine could feel the mood in the room shift like a weight bearing down on him. He wondered, briefly, if that was how Hopeless felt.

And now they were all together, all eight of them, for the first time in a hundred years, and it only served to remind him of what they'd lost. What he'd destroyed. What the world now lacked, like the colors bled from a once vibrant painting.

[shopworn]

And suddenly there were Dex and Rover. Ghastly felt like he might have been knocked over with a feather. He shouldn't have been surprised by their presence -- had jokingly predicted it himself -- but with this, all of them together again and his heart still heavy...

It was everything he'd ever dreamed of, but not at all how he would have wanted it. When Dex came over to hug him Ghastly leaned into him with a sort of heaviness, matching the exhaustion in the sagging of his shoulders.

He was running. Mentally, at least. Physically he would maybe get a few steps. But he didn't particularly want to stop, because stopping meant looking at Erskine and Ghastly didn't know how to be all right with him right now. If ever.

So he focused on Dexter and Rover instead, and he closed his eyes, and he held on tight.

[gistful]

[ooc: continued here.]