— the dove, she promised land, as she laid the branch right into my hand | OPEN.

[extramuralise]

Who: John Irving (extramuralise) + OPEN!
What: Catch-all for various threads (event-adjacent or otherwise), and everything else in between!
When: Throughout March
Where: Milton & surrounding areas.
Content Warnings: Repression, religion, repentance etc... you know, the usual. Will update as needed!




( closed & open starters! feel free to PM / plurk me @ reggiemantle for plotting. )

Comments

[extramuralise]

[ It doesn't occur to Irving for even a moment what it is that Gibson could want with him, and even less does he assume it must be about him, because well, whyever should it be? Their conversations, if and when they have them now, are — for obvious reasons — usually about Cornelius Hickey.

But considering their previous conversation, Irving cautiously allows himself to feel some faint thread of hope that perhaps Gibson has actually given more thought to what Irving was trying to tell him— that perhaps he's finally realized what a mistake he's made by throwing in so ardently with Hickey. It takes some people much longer to come to such revelations, after all, but that isn't what matters; all that matters is they come to them eventually, if at all.

Gibson may not have been ready to accept Irving's help before, but Irving can and will forgive him that gladly. Better late than never. ]

Mr. Gibson.

[ Irving bows his head and lifts his cap to politely return the greeting, his expression unsure but obliging, as if he assumes Gibson has something important to say; a teacher or a priest ready to counsel those who come looking for it. ]

Indeed, you may. How might I be of service to you this evening?

[notarat]

[ The other's reaction isn't too surprising to him - considering how often he has seen similar things on Irving in the past - but it also instantly makes him realize the other has no idea what he's about to hear here.

Then again, that's only logical, isn't it? Even though he could feel the emotions and thoughts of others over those threads, he tried very hard to not think about the fact that it meant other people could also feel his. John Irving seems like the type to do the same, though Billy loathes having to make that internal comparison between the two of them, finding a similarity like that. ]

I imagine this isn't about what you assume it to be about.

[ He'll give the other that warning in advance. At least that much. ]

I wanted to ask something about those strings from the other month. I imagine we were also connected by one.

AS ALWAYS IM SO SORRY FOR MY SLOWNESS pls know that i love this thread and also u so much ok...!!

[extramuralise]

[ Trust that if Irving did have any idea what Gibson is about to say...

Well, he certainly would not be voluntarily choosing to stay and listen to it, at the very least. As it is, one can already reasonably assume that almost anything Gibson could possibly have — let alone want — to either say or ask of Irving isn't likely to be anything Irving will actually be happy to hear or be asked, but God help him, he would still prefer to believe otherwise.

And even without the strings, his expression is, as ever, unschooled enough to more or less reflect how he's feeling: confused and wary, yet dimly hopeful, although the mention of those strings is enough to make it shutter somewhat with trepidation. ]

Well, I suppose it is always... possible we might have been, yes, [ he allows carefully, if somewhat evasively. ] Given how we know each other.

[ He pauses, then, as if perhaps that had, in fact, been the full extent of Gibson's question in itself, even though Irving knows better— even though he can't actually avoid this inevitably necessary follow-up short of simply walking away mid-conversation: ]

Now then, what exactly— [ He hesitates, visibly growing slightly tense. ] Er, well... th-that is, you say you had... something you wanted to ask me.

it's okay i ended up being even slower this time....

[notarat]

Yes.

[ Maybe it's easier to just be direct. It's clear Irving is being very evasive here - which isn't really a surprise, considering what he knows the other man to be like. There is absolutely no way that John Irving is going to be the man to ever bring up what Billy had felt in that moment. He might even have stowed the very thought of it away from himself, somewhere deep down.

So rather than keeping this going for an unnecessary amount of time, Billy decides to be direct for once. It's not really his forte on the outside, but-- well, it mostly just requires letting go of his filter, really. His thoughts are usually a lot more direct than his words, after all. ]

I felt a strange longing that was certainly not my own. One that was also quickly suppressed. Do you understand what I might be talking about?

(stares in horror at these latest timestamps) wanna bet 😭

[extramuralise]

[ Irving blinks a few times quickly as though he's suddenly struggling to grasp quite what he's looking at (although, spoiler warning, it's very much simply still William Gibson as its been this entire time), his mouth dropping open in mute shock not too unlike that of a gasping fish slowly suffocating upon dry land that Gibson, of all possible men, has even just dared to accuse Irving of—

Of... of yearning, of harboring a suppressed sort of longing of most nearly any kind, let alone the kind of which Gibson seems to be very meaningfully trying to imply.

Irving feels his heart begin to race fast enough that he can almost feel it in his throat, unable to do anything else but simply stand there, wide-eyed and speechless, while his hands anxiously fidget at his sides. ]

How... h-how dare you, [ he manages to stumble out just a bit too softly to convincingly evoke either confidence or authority, somehow both looking and sounding more fearful than angry. ] How dare you even suggest that I-I could somehow possibly ever so much as hope to understand a man like you, Mr Gibson— men like you, w-who...

[ He takes a step backward, with eyes as wide and round as saucers and hands now mildly trembling, though despite it all he somehow manages to continue holding wet, feverish eye contact without once breaking it to instead gaze shamefacedly downward. ]

The answer is no, Gibson. [ As if dropping the prefix for once might add more conviction to his words. ] N-no, absolutely not, and you ought know better than to even ask me such a thing.

[ Then, after falling briefly into a desperately fragile silence, he adds more quietly, almost beseechingly: ]

H-how could you even ask it of me, William?

no worries i am still here!!! always!!!!!

[notarat]

[ It's strange. There was a time where this sort of thing would have inspired fear in him, yet now it's the other way around - in this place where there's no command or punishment to fear. Irving holds no power over him, and that combined with the intensity of the other's reaction makes it so easy to see the fear in it, despite the words themselves meaning to convey anger in any other tone.

And he just stands there as he watches it. Surprisingly still, like he's taking in the other man's reaction moreso than providing any of his own. Even the mention of men like him doesn't sting anymore, so far away from the world they have left behind.

Or when, in the light of this reaction, it might seem like there is more than one such man in this exact spot right now.

He doesn't soften in the light of the other's desperate near-plea, though something also seems to keep him from hardening to the point of anger in this moment - though it might have been the perfect opportunity to say words he has wanted to say before, to sharpen his tongue. Cornelius would have taken the opportunity, were he in his shoes, and he knows it. William Gibson himself isn't so sure though.

It's why there's a moment of quiet between them - he has to decide on what to say exactly here.

And when he does speak, he speaks slowly, as if he wants to make sure every single word reaches the other. ]

"Why do you behold the speck in your brother's eye, but consider not the beam that is in your own eye?" [ He may not be a fan of Bible study - and that's putting it lightly - but it's hard to escape picking up on at least some of the texts when you have to hear texts from the Bible often enough. ] Doesn't it say something like that?

[ He knows it's probably not fully accurate given the above - and of course John Irving would know - but he's still pretty sure he's close enough.. ]

What do you have to fear? Are you judging me in an attempt to absolve yourself of the same judgment, Mr. Irving? [ Both his tone and expression seem relatively calm, but that by itself does make it clear there's none of the usual nervous fidgeting there usually would have been in front of Irving - that there has been in the past, especially when he found them in the hold. He even holds the eye contact on his end as well.

A beat, and then he adds: ] That is why I am asking you as much.

ftr i'm still game to continue but if it's FINALLY too old atp i completely understand lmao 😭

[extramuralise]

[ The silence hangs there in between them heavy and thick, choking the air as though it had suddenly been drained of oxygen. Irving feels faintly dizzy, sinking fast into the airlessness like quicksand, though he manages — if barely, with no small amount of difficulty — to recover himself, lest his weakness show. His heart pounds in his ears like so many booming kettle drums beating out a song of war, the sweat prickling at his neck and temples.

In truth, Irving has never fully understood Gibson's animosity towards him, as if he alone were responsible for penning the laws, scriptures, and Articles against sodomy— certainly not, and hadn't he always tried to help the man, to shield and protect him even? Hadn't Gibson all but asked him for that help?

Well, perhaps always is rather a grand overstatement, but all the same, Irving had tried, had he not? He probably could have been reprimanded, even, if it had ever been discovered he had failed to report the indiscretion in the first place, but such transgressions had easily been the least of their expeditions concerns— a minor matter of morals and discipline in the face of, say, monster bear attacks, starvation, and keeping two ship's worth of crazed, desperate sailors from deciding to perhaps burn their Native passenger as a witch. ]

It would serve you well, Mr. Gibson, to remember that I have judged you quite a bit more kindly than the Crown would have— never mind the Word of God. I would have thought you'd be more grateful, in fact, rather than choosing now to accuse me of— o-of these... fraternal improprieties.

[ Regardless of any supposed moral high ground, it's a struggle to keep his voice sounding even, each word threatening to catch and tremble between leaving his throat and traveling past the barrier of his lips. Yet some part of him does, perhaps, understand the allegations Gibson's making all too clearly, and that he may even fail to beat them, ultimately, despite having yet acted upon nothing still. ]

... Now, I am myself, of course, no stranger to the various perils and temptations that may befall a man, during the course of his daily life— thoughts may at times turn toward the impure, or even the unnatural, but we still need not always condemn ourselves to the inevitability of the physical sin simply for harbouring the root of such actions in a moment of weakness. [ He exhales slowly, sharply. ] Do you understand what I am trying to tell you?

[notarat]

[ He is pretty sure that he knows what the other is trying to tell him here.

Though maybe it'd be better if he wasn't. It's not even like the words sound all that strange, coming out of the other's mouth. It's all exactly like something Irving would say. Maybe back in their world he wouldn't even have thought too much about it, especially with everything else there was to think about.

But in this place - and with the knowledge gained from conversing about these things with people who come from very different places - it sticks out more to him. John Irving is admitting that he has had these thoughts and feelings, just as Billy suspected during their emotional linking. But he is also claiming it's something that happens to all people sometimes, and--

Is it? It's hard to tell for him, given that it's all he has ever known, but other people in this place seem to say the opposite. Not to mention that he has seen some men talk or act about women in a way Billy could never imagine they could if they felt the same things he did. There's no way it's a truly universal experience.

But thinking too much about that, fully thinking about that--

His lips are tightly pressed together. He looks a little less hostile in this moment, and more like he's wrestling with something - wondering if this is a path he wants to go down, given how much of a mess his head feels when he only thinks about it. ]

You are admitting you have had those feelings. [ It's the only thing he can say right now - both as an answer to the other's question, but also in bewilderment as the realization that he was right - and all that comes with that - is dawning upon him. ]