triangularity | Open RP post for Maggie Garcia

"Well, seems like now would be the best time to tell you I'm the most famous man in my world, and everyone loves me," Duke says with a little smirk.

He decides to answer the question with physical touch even if he's worried he might end up hurting her more. He winds his arms around her, pressing his fingertips into her back. His touch is gentle and careful, and he shakes his head, because he still can't wrap his head around the fact that-

She's here. She knows him. Teleios must have been real.

"What the hell happened to you?"

She huffs out a very small laugh. Even on morphine, there are limits to how far her belief will stretch.

Despite how gentle he is, a soft, pained sound escapes Maggie as Duke pulls her close. She latches on quickly enough that he doesn't have time to second guess the gesture because of it.

"I was shot by a CDC strike team because their bosses wanted to keep a secret," Maggie tells him bluntly, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's healing. I'll be fine."

Physically, at least. She's still shaken by losing Becks. By the knowledge of exactly what truth all those people were killed to hide. She's careful not to put much pressure on her chest, but Maggie clings to Duke as tightly as she can manage, her fingertips pressing harder than his.

"Are you alright?" The quick version of the answer might be best. Get Maggie back to bed and then talk to her about the details of what's gone on in Haven.

Duke frowns as he holds her tightly, and he nearly does second guess his gesture. He almost lets go of her altogether until she latches on tighter, and he can't quite get himself to pull away then even if he is afraid he's hurting her more.

"Jesus," he whispers, and then he shakes his head at the question. It's less to answer it and more because, it's far more important for him to get her somewhere safe- to get her rested before he tries to delve into the shithole Haven has become.

He winds his arms around her, lifting her up to his chest. "We gotta get you somewhere safe, Mag. C'mon."

Duke moves with her in his arms towards the Gull.

She finally turns her attention from Duke for long enough to take in a bit of their surroundings. Definitely nowhere she's been, but then, she assumed it wouldn't be Teleios. Supposedly that door is closed. "We're in Haven? You make for a much a much more pleasant awakening than arguing over whether I'd been kidnapped for ransom when I first arrived in Teleios."

Maggie has recovered from her injury enough that she might protest if anyone else tried to scoop her up, but she's so glad to see Duke. Besides, she's already depended on him like this once before, and then some.

"Funny, I didn't see any shining armor." If he insists on coming to her rescue, though...

"We're in Haven. Teleios sent me back with all my memories intact, but turns out talking about Teleios in the real world? Does't go too well. People think you're crazy."

But Maggie is proof it was all real. Everything he lived, all that he learned, it was real, and he doesn't know how to wrap his head around the fact.

He smirks at her words, moving her back towards The Gull where there's his office in the back. There's a couch there if nothing else, but they're a walk away from his ship still.

"I'm afraid it's currently getting polished so you'll have to deal with the ordinary clothes for your... daring rescue."

"I published it as fiction. I never tried to tell anyone those stories were real." She looks up at Duke again, concerned. "You didn't have that outlet. How bad was it?"

She can think of a range of scenarios, some far worse than others.

"Armor would be less comfortable to be swept off my feet in anyway. Hard, and nearly always either too hot or too cold." Not speaking from experience, but she has thought about it for writing purposes.

Duke shakes his head at the question. He doesn't know how to put it to words. Audrey and Nathan moved on once they realized he was going on about something they couldn't understand. It's so- It's so common to their lives. It's something they all know so well at this point.

He moves forward, opening the door to The Gull.

"You've really thought a lot about armor, Maggie. You got other Knights picking you up from the floor like this?"

That wasn't an answer, which Maggie quietly takes note of for later.

"The last person who picked me up was Shaun, and while he's often wearing Kevlar, it isn't quite the same thing." If Duke would rather stick to banter for a few minutes, he can have that.

"I write a lot of genres, and I have spent far too much time thinking about the practicalities of fairy tales. You should see any writer's search history. One minute we're writing battles and the next minute we're down a search engine rabbit hole looking up the tensile strength of steel."

Duke manages to get her inside of his office, and he sets her down gently there on the couch. He slips his fingers through her hair. It's an unconscious, worried gesture more than anything, but he doesn't know much about bullets or their wounds. For all his criminal activities, he's managed to keep just in front of such deep injuries.

"Jesus," he says, breathing out, shaking his head with a tiny smile tugging across his lips from this close distance. "I'm mildly afraid of your search history, Mag. But God, it is so good to see you after everything, after all of it."

She's here, and it means so much to him even if Mara is- Well, she's probably his only solution to the whole world exploding inside him.

When he strokes her hair, the audible sigh that slips out has nothing to do with pain and everything to do with comfort. Maggie craves company and contact in a way most of her frightened isolationist culture has discarded. She isn't even touch averse with strangers, and she loves being touched by anyone she likes.

"My browser history has nothing on a mystery writer's," she promises, reaching out for Duke's hand before she adds, "I've missed you too."

Maggie thought that choosing to go home meant that she'd lost Duke and everyone else she cared about from Teleios for good.

Edited 2018-02-09 09:03 (UTC)

Duke smiles soft even as he continues moving forward toward the Gull, stepping through the doors. No one else is here. It's a quiet night. No one to blame him, to claim him for their own damage. He hesitates.

His throat locks up.

"Yeah." He moves her into the office, setting her down on to the couch. "Missed you too. Haven's screwed up, but- Gotta worry about you first."

He won't talk about the rest until she's well.

"I'll be fine," Maggie assures him. "Promise. I had very good doctors, and I've already been under observation for a few days. The bullet nicked my liver, so I'm under orders not to exert myself for a bit longer, but I'm out of any immediate danger."

Maggie doesn't go into the other measures taken to save her life. Scrubbed plasma transfusions, filtering her own blood so the viral load stayed low and she didn't join the walking dead. It was a very close call. They made it just in time, after Maggie had already passed out from blood loss.

But those omissions don't mean she's lying about the rest of it. Maggie really will be alright.

"I need a little rest. That's all. Conveniently, I'm capable of listening while I lie uselessly on your couch."

Duke studies her expression, but he nods. She wouldn't lie to him about this even if she's not one who will easily accept being carried around if she doesn't need it. He understands this is a- it's an act she lets him do, because she trusts him, because she cares about him.

"Uselessly might be selling yourself a bit short, Maggie," he says, lifting an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. "You do a very good job of being incredibly attractive to look at."

Just saying.

He might be stalling, but he figures she won't mind.

Maggie dialed back her flirting with Duke a little bit after the night she got drunk and asked him to bed, but it's nice to fall back into that. Comfortable. And it's still sinking in that she gets to see him again. A grin flashes briefly across her face.

"Only appreciated for my looks," she laments dramatically. "In that case it's a good thing my mother got to me before I fell through a rift between universes. My hair was dreadful for days."

It's braided neatly enough now, with just a few curls escaping.

"I appreciate you for far more than that, but at the moment, you don't have to worry about doing anything else but looking surprisingly gorgeous for someone who's been shot recently," Duke says with a quirk of his lips to the side as he meets her gaze, and he nearly winces. Her falling through here means she won't get to see her mother again likely.

It's not like he has any idea of how to help her get back to her home and family. ...not that it seems like things were safe there either.

"...feel a little bad that it's so good to see you when you got torn out of your own home, away from your mother to be here."

Maggie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, admitting, "I'm concerned about my parents. I..." she pauses, because she knows how utterly awkward this must sound to anyone from a world besides her own. "I have a microchip beneath my collarbone that transmits my vital signs. It was my father's condition on giving me complete freedom to do what I wanted and go anywhere I pleased. It doesn't track my location, as proven by the amount of trouble I got into during my party girl phase, just makes sure my heart never stops. I hate that I've gone out of range and it isn't transmitting anymore."

So the Garcias will almost certainly immediately panic and assume their daughter is dead. At least it won't pick back up again after the blip. They won't think she's undead. If Maggie gets home, her arrival will be treated as a miracle, but the people she loves won't spend the intervening time trying to track her down and lay her to rest.

She squeezes Duke's hand. "But you know this isn't the first time I've fallen into another world. I'm just grateful there was a friend waiting on the other side this time around."

Duke studies her expression when she pauses, when she trails off. He cannot help his reaction to the microchip, because yeah by his world's standards, it's creepy. Also, he did not have a good relationship with either of his parents. The idea they could just know where he was at all time?

It's different for her. She cares about her parents.

"I'm sorry. I wish there was a way to get back through to them- to get you back through to them. ...totally not used to microchips on children being a thing, but I can tell you love them."

It would be hard then to leave them. His hand slides over her own, and he tightens his hold there. "...by some miracle you fell right on to my front door step. Practically. I've missed you."

"They were very good to me. It's amazing I'm not spoiled completely rotten, but they drilled in some personal responsibility along with giving me everything I wanted." It worked out very well. They didn't even mind when Maggie walked away from the family business to live alone in the woods and make her living writing poetry and porn. They just wanted their daughter safe and happy.

"If I get home, I get home. I'm not willing to give up on that possibility. But you don't need to apologize, both because you didn't do it and because I missed you just as much as you missed me." She pauses, then adds, "I need to hear about what I've fallen into, when you're ready. It doesn't have to be right this minute. Soon, though."

"Good. It's good to hear about your parents, how they care about you. It's because of them you're- you're who you are," Duke says, and he really loves the person Maggie is.

There's a pause then as he nods with a soft smile that then fades, because he realizes he has stalled long enough. He tilts his head to the side. "I told you about Troubles before, didn't I? I know I mentioned my blood was special-"

She'd worried about infecting him maybe, but he's not sure it would stick- not with all the aether inside him.

"You've told me a little. Not much. I didn't want to press for more, because there was no need to bring up things that were clearly difficult for you to talk about. I never wanted to force matters."

Now, though, she has reason. It's hard enough to stay safe in a world she has reason to believe is full of more hazards than most if she knows what to avoid. Without that knowledge, Maggie doesn't like her chances.

"You credited your blood with remaining free of my virus, though I'm still reluctant to trust that you're immune."

"I believe it more than ever with what I've learned about my blood, about what's become of my blood now."

It's writhing with troubles, with aether in ways it never was before because he let Mara get her hands on him, and she left her mark. He swallows then, knowing he has to go more in depth. It's important she knows what she's getting into.

"In Haven, there are these things called the Troubles. They run in families. They're like curses more than anything. Sure, some might try to control them- try to run off with those powers, but that usually ends up blowing up in their faces, getting them or someone else killed. Every so many years, they'd show up again, and someone came along, went into the barn, and ended those Troubles until this most recent time."

"You have one?" Maggie asks, her gaze on him soft and sympathetic. "And it's tied to your blood."

She considers, because the implications of that could cover a wide range of horrors. Maggie has read too many books and watched too many movies. Her imagination is vivid, and given the way Duke talks about them, she knows the reality won't be pretty. "What are some examples of the Troubles?"

Mention of the barn is just confusing. A power source for the Troubles? Maybe.

Edited 2018-02-27 18:24 (UTC)

"Let's just say everyone who is Troubled? Their blood is... different." Duke's own Trouble makes him more susceptible to all that Troubled blood, and it means his blood is more overflowing with aether than the rest especially after Mara had her way with him.

He closes his eyes, breathing out. "So let's see examples... being able to make people spontaneously combust, controlling the weather, making taxidermy come back to life, being able to make people do whatever you say, crying and making people die every time you do. Y'know, the usual cursed stuff."

Maggie takes a deep, steadying breath. Right. Teleios got her used to the existence of magic and bizarre occurrences, but it was never this bad. A new reality to get used to. "And their cycle didn't end this time around in the same way it always has previously," she repeats.

She raises a hand to rest against Duke's cheek. "How bad have things been for you since you got home?"

Note the important phrase in that question. 'For you.' Her priorities are crystal clear. They always have been. While she's good at seeing a big picture and she wants, in general, for everyone to be taken care of, her primary focus is the people she cares about. Maggie has never been unselfish enough to do things solely for the greater good. She was willing to chase truth and justice and answers with the rest of After the End Times, but she did it first and foremost because she loved her team.

Here, there's a single person she cares about. Her focus has narrowed considerably.

Duke swallows at the question, and he leans into her touch instinctively. His eyes close, and he breathes out against her hand. He reaches up, sliding his hand over her own, closing his eyes as he does so. The question makes him pause- makes him hesitate.

What else can he say?

"My Trouble was always complicated. If I kill someone in that person's family, I end the Trouble. Forever," he says and then shakes his head. "...and then the person who made all those Troubles? Turns out they're aliens from another universe using aether- a dark material to do so- Well, I trusted her. All these Troubles were inside of me- every single one my family ever ended, and I- I needed help dealing with it, and she was the only one who could."

He swallows. It still feels stupid to have done so.

"She did something to me, and now I'm a ticking bomb. So there's that."

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