Fool's Journey

"So..." She turns back to Lou, "What does this dagger do? Did you put the magic on it too?"

 

"It will stay sharp far longer than most blades like it... and no, I had some assistance."

 

"It's really nice craftsmanship." She compliments, "Did you make the other carvings here too?" She gestures to the little corner of bone and fur and wood items.

 

"Yeah. Most of those are my work, though some are Joanna's." He nods. "She helps with sourcing materials."

 

"Nice." She nods, and eyes up the other items a bit before taking the bone dagger to the till counter, then elects to put the silver platter with it's teapot back where she found it.

 

Mischa's transaction is rung up swiftly, then she and Nick head to the car, and the Grocery store... though Nick is a bit more fidgety than usual.

 

She gives him some space, considering the events at the antique store, and doesn't bring up the Mage business until they're done shopping and back in the car.
"... I'm sorry about earlier. I was gonna talk to you about stuff today, it's part of why I called you earlier."

 

"....wait, like. Stuff stuff?" He glances over, looking genuinely surprised. "...why me?"

 

"The Witch-Magic stuff... it's only really been a thing since yesterday. Also I wanted to ask and figure out if you were really a werebear that clawed up Joe's face when he tried to beat you up..."

 

"Wait, I thought you were a witch for awhile... I-" He cuts off, going pale, and looks away. "............I'm not a bear."

 

"I know... I figured that part out already. I thought at first you were a bear because Joe kept saying he got mauled by one. And I've been a witch for years, but... now I've got more magic going on I guess. More than before anyways."

 

Nick's jaw tightens, and he keeps his eyes on the road. "....that wasn't my fault. I. If. If I'd known. I didn't. I didn't..."

His face screws up, and he hurriedly pulls into a parking lot next to a park, slamming the car to a stop and shoving it into park, grinding his teeth and moving both hands. He grips the wheel until it creaks, eyes shut and mouth twisted into an angry, unhappy curve.

 

Mischa gives him a sad, worried look, quiet as the truck's pulled over. "I'm sorry, Nick..."

 

"Gimme a minute," he hisses through grit teeth, head swiveling towards her. His eyes have gone a bright, feral yellow, and his jaw stays tight. "Wait."

He focuses on his breathing, eyes shut, sagging low in his seat.

After at least seven minutes, he finally opens his eyes.

"...it wasn't on purpose, and I had no way to know what was going to happen." His voice is strained, but he's keeping himself mostly calm, now.

 

"I'm sorry." She repeats. "I wasn't trying to imply that I thought... I... well..." She looks down. "I did think you did it on purpose, but... in self defence."

 

"Mngggh." He stares at the roof. "It's. It really... It was neither. It really..."

He pops his knuckles. "....the moon came up while I was trying to get them to back off. It had never happened before. That was the very, very first time." He breathes through his teeth. "....and the type I am, the... I dunno. Archetype, associated with my moon phase? We're warriors. The first time isn't nice, it isn't gentle, it isn't exploratory. I... usually... a lot of the time, people get hurt, if no one catches you in time. I- I got lucky, and so did Joe, but-"

There's a crunch, and he looks muzzily at his fingers, where he's crushed his own knuckles with his agitated movements. "....fuck. Oops. Ngh."

 

Mischa pales a bit, eyes wide at how easily Nick just casually injured himself like that. "Holy fuck... are you alright?"
She reaches out slowly for his hand When she sees the damage. "Holy shit Nick. Lemme see..."

 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going to be fine. I'm just. You know. Upset. Upset means sometimes... sometimes I break things." He stares at the wheel, then turns, smiling brightly - though it isn't hard to figure out that the smile is rather forced. "...just need to shove them back into place and I'll be fine in a few minutes. It's no big deal, Mischa."

 

She tilts her head forward, frowning slightly and giving him a look that says she knows he's bullshitting her right now. "Yes it is. That's why you're upset." She keeps her voice calm and soft, genuinely wanting to comfort and help her friend. "Breaking your knuckles while you're upset is also a big deal. I'm sorry..."

 

"Hah... I mean. Like. Literally... sure, sure. Uh. If you want to help, can you help me shove them straight?" He holds out his hand. "...it really will heal up just fine, but. that makes it easier? I mean... shit happens, Mischa. It's just... kind of the deal?"