Ars Goetia ([personal profile] arsgoetia) wrote2015-09-13 09:18 pm

Happy Anniversary & Game 19 Calling!

Hello friends ♥ CAN YOU BELIEVE IT HAS BEEN SIX YEARS SINCE THE FIRST GAME? We're so so so happy for the players that have been with us since the start, those that have joined along the way and stuck with us, and look forward to welcoming any new friends that might want to play with us in the future!

We have two things for you—a short fic that I think we meant to share in the Spring but for some reason totally forgot to, and an announcement that the next game will be the weekend of October 9th-11th! postponed.

How long has six years been? Well, long enough for this to come about in realtime:

***

Kieran hit SEND and stared at the screen with a thousand-yard stare.

It was done.

Assuming it wasn't failed—and he couldn't imagine it would be—he had just submitted the last paper of, if not his academic career because academic careers were terrifying like that, his M.Div.

He wanted to celebrate but he also didn't want to. He felt tired, bone-deep tired, and a little scared, heart pounding. It was officially too late to back out of this, as if it hadn't been too late three years earlier. He'd had that thought before, briefly, when he submitted his intent to graduate form, but with several more papers still on the horizon he'd pushed the thought off, unwilling to deal with it.

Slowly, he sank down in his computer chair, head resting on the back of it, and let out a breath. Robin, Fon, and the others were all out tonight—giving him time to get this done without any interruption, and bless them for it, but it also felt like this moment was passing in tired obscurity with nobody to tell.

After a moment, he groped for his phone.

It was a stupid impulse. Tristan may not even be aboveground right now, and even if he was, he was busy with politics. But at the same time, Kieran didn't care. If he was texting into a void, he was texting into a void. If Tristan was able to answer, he'd probably get at least a congrats.

He wrote: Just sent my last paper in. This is it. Sink or swim.

After sending, he just closed his eyes. It felt like only a minute, but when the buzzing under his hand snapped him awake and he lifted the phone, he saw it was two hours later. But the name on his screen was familiar, and he was already smiling a bit as he picked up, scrubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," Tristan said. "Congrats, Kieran."

"Haha, thanks. I mean, technically it's just a paper, and... I don't know," Kieran said. He let his eyes close again, just listening to the sound of Tristan's agreeable hum. "It's not even over yet. After I graduate, I have to get ordained to transitional deacon and then it's more learning, but..."

"It's different," Tristan said. "You've been academia your whole life, huh? At least since you came out to St. Dom's."

"Yeah," Kieran said. "I mean, if you can call that academia."

"Hey, I worked there. It counts. And from here on it's not theory, it's practice."

Kieran's throat tightened a little. "Yeah," he said.

"Change is scary, hey?"

It didn't make any sense; his throat felt thick and his eyes burned. He tried to shrug it off, another offhand, "Yeah," but it came out ragged and he let out a helpless sob into the phone.

"Baby. Baby, baby, baby. You don't need to do this."

"I want to," he managed, through the heaving seizures that seemed to have taken over his chest. "Sorry... Sorry, man. I'm tired. I feel like I haven't stopped since I started. I was sleeping when you called."

"Haha, but what would you be doing if I was there with you?"

That made him grin wetly. "Quit it."

"Can't. It's a curse," Tristan sighed. "Baby, I'm proud of you."

And just like that, Kieran didn't know what to say, couldn't choke back the tears any more. He could apologize, and did, choked it out over and over in between sobs so thick and hard they felt more like coughs. Tristan made soothing sounds on the other end, gentle and understanding and a bit mocking in a way that Kieran didn't think was aimed at him.

Eventually, he got it under control. "Sorry," he said again, quieter, raw.

"It's a shame about your human emotions," Tristan said, dryly. "Sorry I can't be there."

"Where're you? Can you say?"

"Dubai. I'll take you someday."

"Pff." Kieran let out a deep sigh, feeling himself relax, the muscles over his stomach unclenching with a feeling so unfamiliar that he realized he couldn't remember the last time he wasn't stressed. "You think we'll get the chance?"

"Oh, well. It never hurts to hope."

"I miss you," Kieran mumbled into the phone. "Wow, I'm maudlin. Sorry. Any time after three is a bad time."

"Do I do that?"

"Huh?"

"Nothing," Tristan said, and let out a breath that Kieran almost thought he could feel through the phone. "You need to sleep."

"Don't know if I can."

"Sure you can," Tristan said. "But... I'll talk to you until you do, yeah?"
troublebrewing: (5 and a 1/2 minute hallway.)

[personal profile] troublebrewing 2015-09-14 04:41 am (UTC)(link)
They're so precious. What nerds.
restorefromsave: (Derp)

[personal profile] restorefromsave 2015-09-14 07:36 am (UTC)(link)
Wow. How disgustingly cute.