Nero was frustrated with himself, frustrated with Orson, frustrated with everyone in his life. The last thing he had done was talk to Nazonal before he'd gone to the edge, and now he was faced with the reality that death was too sweet for him to deserve. Whatever forces existed out there wanted him to suffer through his life. Wonderful. Nero chose not to reply to the comment about their mother leaving because he was too tired to debate that point. At least Orson and the others hadn't been babies dependent on milk when she'd gone the first time.

What was that supposed to mean? Nero frowned, meeting his eyes with an icy stare. He had a feeling it didn't need to be said out loud, that Orson was beginning to connect the dots himself. Good.

Nero sighed as the topic of Alizabeth leaving was brought back up. He didn't have the energy, the bandwidth, or the capacity to deal with that at the moment. The man just stared vacantly at his younger brother, unwilling to fight with him and yet having nothing to say on the matter.

"I suppose I should go home." The walk would be difficult, but he would manage it. Hopefully.

code by dee

Tendrils of ice seemed to be creeping into Orson's veins as he stared into Nero's cold eyes. His silence said far more than his silence, but the profound nature of the secrets Nero was keeping was yet just beyond Orson's grasp, or perhaps it was beyond was he wanted to accept. The silence stretched between them, neither one of the brothers quite willing to speak on the difficult subjects at hand.

Orson was fine to leave the subject of their mother and her disappearing acts behind for now. But he wasn't about to just let Nero walk away from this encounter without further explanation. Not that he was going to make it very far in his current state.

"Wait a minute!" Orson said, lurching forward and cutting in front of Nero, stopping in front of him to block his path. "What in the hell is going on with you, Nero?" Orson demanded. "You haven't been the same since you left Scilla. You share a den with Ghyslaine and that awful woman and I can tell it bothers you. But you have a family, four beautiful cubs..." Orson searched Nero's face, noting the dullness in his eyes that seemed to be more than just physical exhaustion.

"But you're not happy, are you." It was more of a statement than a question. Orson had started to notice his brother's strange moods while he was living in Lorien Plains. But he'd pushed it out of his mind after what had happened at the challenge for the Lagoon. And now he was finally putting the pieces together.

"Nero." He said, leaning closer. "How did you end up in the sea? What happened to you?"

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of suicide

"Do I? I don't even know what my family looks like." Nero glanced to Orson with a frown, shaking his head. "I've never been able to experience life with just my wife and children. There's always been someone there to shit all over it. They don't want me there, they don't want me in Ghyslaine's life. They've all made my life a living hell since the moment I joined the pride to be with my wife. And why do they hate me? Couldn't tell you." His gaze hardened. If he could kill them without repercussions.. he still wouldn't have done it, because they were important to Ghyslaine and her feelings mattered to him.

"And if I could do it all over again, would I have married Ghyslaine, knowing what I know now? I can't even answer that. I love her so fucking much, but it.. fuck. The other lions in her life are prejudiced assholes. I've tried my fucking hardest. I thought showing them all that I was even willing to go against my own family would prove that I was on their side, on their team. That they could trust me. They don't give a fuck." Nero shrugged. "Every day I walk out into that pride and am reminded that I am the fucking shit on the bottom of someone's paw. Every day I'm reminded that I made this choice, that I could have been happy if I'd made different ones. But no, Orson," he said sharply. "I'm not happy. I'm miserable. I hate Lorien fucking Plains and everyone in it except for a choice few."

He wanted to know why he was in the water?

"Because I would rather be dead than deal with the pressure of never being good enough for anyone. Except I was good enough for someone once and I fucking threw that away and now I would do anything to get her back." Nero shut his eyes, swallowing. "But, just.. why doesn't she see it?" Or did she, and she chose to be ignorant? He didn't know which option was better. "Because I wanted to die, Orson, so I tried to fuckin' kill myself and yeah, I see the irony in fucking that up too."

He straightened up a bit.

"And I still want to die, because I can't do it anymore. I can't do it anymore. I can't fucking do it anymore, Orson."

code by dee

Orson wasn't sure what he'd expected to hear from Nero. But his older brother began to open up, weaving a tale of heartache and frustration. Throughout the recounting and very clear picture was painted, filling in many of the gaps in the puzzle that had unfolded in recent moons. It even explained what had happened between the brothers that day at the challenge. Orson's expression shifted as Nero spoke, going from empathetic, to stony, and finally shocked. He never interrupted as his brother spoke, taking the time to listen and attempt to digest everything he was being told.

Orson was not experienced in any of these matters. He had recently grown out of cubhood and was only just experiencing the angst of being a teenager. He had not known loss and love, though he'd weathered his fair share of rejection when it came to his littermates. He didn't possess any sage wisdom or advice for Nero. But hearing that his brother had attempted to take his own life, that he still wanted to die... it filled Orson with a terrible sadness and sense of helplessness. He blinked several times, willing away the sting of tears that threatened to form.

"Then don't." Orson said. "Stop living for everyone else! You say you love Ghyslaine but if she's so great why does she let this kind of shit happen? Why doesn't she stick up for you? Why doesn't she kick Olive out of the family den? She's the King..." Orson was still quite sour on his brother's wife after he'd overheard her speaking in support of the lion who challenged their mother. She'd made some sort of weak excuse but it hadn't made a bit of a difference to Orson.

"I'm sick of everyone being fucking shitty all the time." Orson said, raising a forelimb and slashing at the sand, sending a spray of obsidian particles flying in his frustration. His words caught in his throat, constricting over a sob that nearly escaped. He hid it with a snarl, lashing his tail. Shaking his head with teeth bared, Orson stalked off briskly, taking several paces before he whirled around and stalked back. Once he regained his composure, he looked at Nero again. "You deserve better. From everyone. Including yourself."

It was far too much to drop on anyone, let alone a child, but Nero had not been spared any mercy in his young life and it seemed only fitting that anyone related to him would suffer the same. It was entirely unfair for Nero to have opened his mouth and he knew that, particularly to Orson of all beings. Anyone else could have handled the weight of everything he’d just shouldered the boy with; or at least carried it a bit easier. Even Lyle or Colsun. Fuck, even Ransom could have handled it better although the advice wouldn’t have been very.. comforting. Do a backflip next time or something to that effect.

His ears pinned against his head at Orson’s harsh judgment of his wife. No matter what the circumstances, Nero would defend her to the death. “How am I supposed to tell her that her friend is a bitch and I want her gone?” he said, frowning deeply. How the hell did someone bring up that conversation, just so casually, to their partner? “She doesn’t know about any of it, Orson. I don’t want her to know about it. I don’t want her to choose between her friends and me, it’s not fair to her.” So Nero would never ask that of her regardless of how low he fell.

Nero watched as his younger brother stalked off, slapped some grass a la Zac Efron, and then returned with the claim he deserved better. It was exhausting to hear that time and time again. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Orson,” he said with a sigh. He was only getting what he deserved in the end.

code by dee

Orson hated these newfound feelings. He'd been such an easy-going cub who saw the world as a place of adventure. He couldn't wait to grow up big and strong, he'd imagined himself living an epic and carefree life. But now he was almost grown and life seemed very much determined to take a shit on all his dreams. Nero's problems were heavy and confusing. Orson didn't have the right set of experiences to really give his brother any useful guidance. All of his advice came from his own very subjective experiences, and were perhaps misguided in many ways.

"You say 'Your friend's a bitch and I want her gone?'" Orson suggested, his tail lashing irritably. When Nero said that Ghyslaine didn't know about any of it he could barely stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Bullshit!" He spat. Orson wasn't even involved in the beef between Nero's wife's friends and him but even the naive youngster was able to pick up on the petty tension that played out in the over crowded den. It was a major part of the reason he'd chosen to nest out in the open with Anniston and her siblings. If Ghyslaine was truly unaware of any of those issues... then there must be something wrong with her head.

Frustrated, disheartened, confused, and starting to become angry, Orson was quickly finding himself tiring of this discussion. Nero was putting on an attitude of defeat as well. Orson wasn't sure what else to say to his brother. "So what?" He replied. He didn't care of any of that. What mattered to Orson was the brother that he did know. The one who looked out for his siblings when their parents were busy (which had been pretty much all the time), who played with him, who taught him about tide pools and who took him in at his lowest point and tried to set him straight when he was running his mouth. Orson didn't care about what he didn't know, only what he did know. And he'd always thought that @Nero was a pretty great guy.

"It's not that easy, Orson." Nero frowned, shaking his head as he gingerly lifted what appeared to be a sprained paw from the ground. It hurt to sit up and he winced with every breath, wondering how long the torture by brother would carry on. Why couldn't he just let go and leave? Isn't that what he had wanted in the first place? Nero to just.. stop. To go back to the brother he had once been, as if that would ever be possible now. "She's the mother of my children, for fuck's sake. I can't just go around making demands of her like she doesn't have her own feelings, and I refuse to make her feel like she has to choose between us. None of this would be happening if she wasn't friends with such shitty lions that clearly don't actually give a flying fuck about her." Because as far as Nero knew, Ghyslaine was happy with him. Things were awkward on occasion, but they had settled into a decent rhythm. He knew they would flourish alone but would never ask her to leave Olive or any of the others because he knew what asking too much of someone could do.

Nero coughed, straining against the pull to drop back onto his stomach and go the fuck to sleep. A nap would have been amazing.

"I'm the one who chose this. I could have been with Nazonal, but now she's.." he didn't need to finish. The pained look on his face was enough, he was sure. "I wanted them both, like mom has Alabaster and Ransom. Nazonal was.. she was willing to try it, but Ghyslaine knew she couldn't handle it. She told me to go be with Naz and maybe if I'd listened, we wouldn't be here. But I love both of them in a way I didn't think was possible and I miss Nazonal so fucking much." But the choice had been made. What else could he do? And did he really miss Nazonal, or did he miss what he and Ghyslaine had been before they'd lived together? Nazonal was freedom. Ghyslaine's cohorts made Nero feel like he was a prisoner. He was fucked either way.

Before that, he'd loved Asteria. He'd had a crush on Hiccup. At the end of the day, Nero's biggest issue was loving too much, too quickly and the disease was incurable.

So what? So what. Nero groaned, moving on. "I love you, kid. Always will. That's why I never told mom where you were; because you'd asked me not to, and I wanted to keep that trust. And now I'm asking you to do the same for me and not tell anyone anything about this. Not the other kids, not Anniston, not mom or the guys, not anyone. Got it?"

code by dee

Orson took a breath and tried to steady his rising temper. It was a new sensation, this reactive side of him. A gift from Alizabeth, no doubt, but one that had taken its sweet time to develop and it left Orson in an awkward position as the fire inside him battled with the good-natured personality that was his default. @Nero's relationship problems went deeper than Orson could possibly understand at such a young age. He'd known nothing more than the slight dysfunction of his family and a childhood crush that he still carried. Maybe an answer was not what his brother needed. Not from the likes of him, or perhaps anyone. Maybe the solution lay within himself, for only him to discover. Orson kept his mouth shut and let Nero talk. It seemed like there was a lot he needed to get off his chest. He frowned, trying to understand but unfortunately this was way too far over head. He didn't know what to say.

It seemed like Nero didn't want to discuss it any more after that. Orson didn't press the matter. But when the subject moved back to Alizabeth and when he'd run away, Orson shook his head. "I never asked you not to tell her." He said. Sure, he hadn't wanted Alizabeth to know but he never asked Nero to make any promises. It was simply because he had truly felt that she didn't care. And to this day it seemed that his mother had never even noticed he was gone, or cared, or had gone looking for him. Orson didn't say this though, because he knew it would just be another argument.

He just needed to accept that he, at just shy of a year old, was grown now and he was on his own. That was just the way it was.

"I can't promise that." Orson said. "You just tried to kill yourself, Nero. That's fucked up. You need help." Orson wanted to help him, but he didn't know how. Shaking his head again, he gave a short ironic snort of mock laughter. "Don't worry. Lyle and Colsun hate me. Mom's gone off to fuck-knows-where. I'm banned from your pride and I haven't seen Anniston since the day it happened." There was no shortness of bitterness in his voice. "I doubt I'll be talking to anyone, any time soon." Orson was reminded of the fact that he was on his own.

"You should go home and talk to your wife." Orson said, turning his head and gazing inland. "Come on. I'll help you get to Celosia."

---

OOC: boom - post 100

Nero scowled as his brother dismissed what he had thought was a good deed. Evidently he had been wrong, though, and he could have - and should have - gone to tell Alizabeth about her son's whereabouts. He felt foolish second-guessing himself and his memories, but maybe he was just so self righteous that he'd genuinely thought he was doing the right thing. What sort of delusion was that?

A low growl came from his lips. "Don't fucking tell anyone. I don't need that extra bullshit and there's no one who can help me except me, so thanks, but no. Don't make me fucking regret telling you shit." Because he didn't have anywhere else to spill his guts out at the moment and Orson had been a convenient scapegoat. Poor kid.

"No one hates you. Ransom has the emotional capacity of a dead toad and you're surprised they don't know how to be nice? They probably feel the same way you do." He snorted. "No one banned you from shit. I thought it was best you went back to Scilla, but you're the one who threw yourself headfirst out the door." Was it beneficial to bring any of that up now? No. He didn't know anything about Aliza being absent and didn't comment on it. She always had a good reason even if he never wanted to admit it, so he wasn't concerned. Not yet.

He would have told his brother that he would always be there for him, but he didn't want to make a promise he wasn't sure he could keep.

The sovereign didn't want an escort back to Lorien. He didn't want to be monitored like he was a freak, didn't want to be babied because his feelings were all over the place. "Fine." Not to talk to Ghyslaine, but to get to Celosia. As fucked up as he currently was physically, he needed the extra help.

exit?

code by dee

Orson clenched his jaws shut and lifted his chin - the only outward sign of his defiance towards Nero's threats. He almost said nothing but then he blurted. "The only way I'm promising that is if you promise never to do that kind of fuckin' shit again." He wasn't sure if Nero, in his current mental state, could commit to such a promise, and frankly, neither could Orson. If there was someone (even though right no there was no one) who Orson thought might be able to help his brother, he could not promise that he wouldn't tell them about what he had learned here today.

A growl rose in Orson's throat as Nero insulted his father. To Orson, Ransom held the position of something like a demi-god. Sure, the dark man had scarcely been around for the kids, and his fatherly instincts were all but completely lacking. Still, Orson looked up to him and clung to the few key moments they had shared. There was more to Ransom than Nero might have thought. And Orson was also still pretty sure that he was unwelcome in Lorien Plains. He didn't feel like he belonged anywhere, so it made sense that he would be outcasted from the place where he'd been the happiest he'd been in a long time. But Orson was tired of arguing. His brother was in a bad way and needed to get home before he collapsed. Orson wasn't even sure if he could make it there.

Having reached what seemed to be an impasse, Nero begrudgingly accepted Orson's offer to help him get back. Orson nodded, avoiding his gaze because he didn't really feel like talking any more. He walked up next to his brother so that their sides were touching. He would accompany him out of Stygian, being there in case he stumbled or fell. And then they would go their separate ways.

[exit]