They're not anywhere on the train, either. Radar checks the whole length of it, cautiously moving from car to car, squinting and patting at the seats as he tries to spot a glint of light where there shouldn't be one. He asks the other passengers whenever he bumps into them (sometimes literally). Nothing.
So he just goes back to his seat and curls up again to not-watch the scenery.
It's a long ride. Even with a search for his missing glasses thrown in, he's got plenty of time to think, plus a little extra to try and pull himself all the way together before he meets up with Fever. He... doesn't quite manage it. When Radar steps off the train, blinking owlishly up and down the platform to figure out if any of the fuzzy blobs milling around are Fever, he still looks a bit shellshocked.
Oh, there she is! ...Well, there's a blob a couple inches taller than him with a grayish halo around its maybe-head that's probably Fever's hair. Radar immediately veers to follow her voice.
"Hey Miss Fever. No luck," he confirms glumly. "You think the eye doctor's still open today?"
Normally he'd know that kind of thing right off the top of his head, but his sense of time's all scrambled.
"I can't actually remember, thinking on this. The first place we can go that has a telephone, we can call. Or, well, wherever you want to go, phone or not."
She pauses, and there's a murmured here before her touch brushes his arm lightly. An offer of a guide, but not a presumption. Such she had learned with Arthur, that one warned and offered but did not forcibly direct unless it was something like yanking him physically out of harm's way.
"Thanks," he mumbles. "I can see big stuff okay, I just dunno what it is sometimes."
He makes an aborted gesture toward the bridge of his nose, like he's trying to adjust his glasses before remembering they're not there. The train chugs away, so loud it takes Radar a couple seconds to reorient himself.
"I think I just wanna go home. I gotta check on Tiger Junior and Treble, I tried to when I was, um..." He swallows. "Anyway they couldn't see me. Or hear me, neither. So I gotta let 'em know I'm okay."
She loops her arm through his for properly escorting, and will head in the closest direction to what he indicates. Her sense of direction isn't perfect, but it shouldn't be that hard, right?
"336 Briar Road," he says. He locks his arm firmly with hers, but keeps blinking around as if he can bring the world into focus by sheer force of will. "It's kinda close to the edge of town? If you hang a left out of the Oak & Iron you'll get there in ten minutes if you're walking kinda fast."
"But you were right," he insists, "there was nothing to be scared about. Those stupid headstones weren't even real. Maybe I coulda handled seeing the skeleton if I wasn't already running around like a ninny over a dumb piece of rock with my name on it. And then maybe we could've found a door that wasn't a trap."
Fever's glad he can't see her face, that the way her expression falters won't be at any risk for discovery.
"...It cut me down, in the end. Neither magic nor weapon could do anything to it. I couldn't stop it - and then I was in an empty room, with a door that led out to the festival. I don't...really know what was supposed to happen afterwards. Maybe I broke it, somehow."
Or maybe, terrifyingly, being cut down was the answer. She doesn't know.
Oh, he was hoping that wasn't what happened. Now he feels even worse about running. Not like he could've stopped the skeleton, either, but at least Fever wouldn't've had to try alone.
"...You sure you're doing okay? I mean even before that, when we were in that room with the scales -- " He hesitates. "You didn't look so good. Especially when the whole place changed for a second."
"What do you mean? I didn't see the place change. Not before we stepped out the door."
It's sidestepping the real question, but what is she supposed to do, turn around and say that such a room only reminded her of what kind of a person she is? If she even gets to use that word, at present. No, no, she has to seek refuge in another direction.
"Really?" His brow knits. Uneasily, he looks down at his feet, under the pretense of trying to watch his step, and mumbles half to himself, "Guess it was just me. Never mind."
It had felt a little like hearing the choppers. Just -- stronger. He's not used to seeing stuff instead of just hearing it, though; he doesn't know what he can file away as I wasn't supposed to see that, like he absentmindedly does whenever he hears things it turns out nobody said out loud.
(He never realized how often he did that until he met Brownyn. Maybe he oughta see if he can talk to them again.)
Someone comes up the street in the opposite direction, close enough that they're in danger of shoulder-checking Radar. Without looking up, and barely thinking about it besides a tiny tilt of his head, he sidesteps them.
She sees it, wrestles with the desire to know and not know. It's dipping close to what she was trying to avoid, but...if he saw something, she has the right to know what it was, since clearly her mind is engaging in an open door policy she never consented to. Or it's a side effect of the spores. One of them.
Radar hunches his shoulders almost up to his ears. "Gee, I don't think I was supposed to see it, but it wasn't anything bad, Miss Fever, honest. It was just you and a bunch of other people around a campfire."
"...was one a woman with long, dark hair? And another a pale man? And another woman, unlike any human you've ever seen?"
She means to be stoic. But there's a wistfulness in her tone that comes when some people talk about home, and seeing them again - why couldn't it have been her, blessed with such a vision?
He finally looks back up at Fever, blinking. The last little spark that wondered was it nothing, was the room just messing with me? snuffs out.
It's a little terrifying. He's got that same half-scared half-exhilarated swoop in his stomach as when Bronwyn told him what they were; what he was. Realizing there really is a whole new layer of stuff to the world that most people can't see, but he might be able to sometimes... oh, boy, it's a lot.
"Yeah, that was them," he says. A bit more tentative, "Are those your friends? Back home?"
"Yes. Some of my companions, back where I'm from. I don't know how you were able to glimpse them, in that moment, but if it was me and others around the fire...likely it was just my turn to keep watch."
Because if she looked like how she felt, they had to all be asleep. Which meant she was either on watch, or woken from a nightmare, and only one of those is a socially acceptable answer. Gods, she's so close to fleeing to Paradesium, asking the Worm in the depths what she must do to shield her thoughts in such a way that they become harder to grasp, instead of the wearying conscious effort of veiling her mind.
"The rest of them were probably in their tents, but the weather was fair enough to sleep under the stars, mostly." A pause. "You mentioned psychic powers the other day. Is that what this is about?"
"I think so? I -- gee, I dunno." He heaves a sigh. "It didn't used to feel like this big a deal. Sometimes I just know stuff. Ever since I was little. Or..." How did he put it to Bronwyn? "When I hear something it's like I'm hearing it back here first -- " he touches the back of his head, "-- even before it gets to my ears, or, or I think somebody said something out loud but it turns out they didn't. And that's what Bronwyn said I was. Psychic, like them."
There's that little moth-flutter in his stomach again when he names it. Maybe that's why it feels so much bigger now. His mom and Uncle Ed always told him not to name the animals they planned to sell, because as soon as he did he'd get too attached to let them go. (Naturally, Radar did anyway, and naturally, he got way too attached to them.) When you name something, it's not just a thing anymore. It's real.
"But I never really saw stuff like I did in there before. Mostly I always just heard it. I woulda completely thought it was just that lady with the scales messing with me if it hadn't kinda felt like the choppers coming, too."
"Maybe something about that place amplified everything. Because it was so strange and full of magic, something could have made it so loud you ended up seeing as well as hearing. It's not unheard of, where I come from - my magic is as much as part of me as this is for you, and outside influences can affect it deeply. It's only really a big deal if you want to make it one."
She'll refrain from mentioning her own psychic forays - no need to worry him that he might have been changed in his youth. Highly unlikely. He's probably just got a gift, especially since she's looked at his eyes and noticed nothing amiss.
"...if it ever becomes dangerous, though - if things are coming through that you don't want to hear, and you feel it's unmanageable, you can reach out and talk to my father. He can help you find a way to shield yourself from what's harmful."
There's a plain and honest warmth when she says that. She's said that word aloud again. And the world still didn't collapse, even though it was spoken out of privacy, to someone else. Later, Fever'll have to tell him.
Radar's brow knits, as if the idea of this being dangerous never even occurred to him. "Well, yeah, it's a lot, but I'm good at it," he says. "It's just like filing, you know? You figure out what's important and sort it out from whatever's not. I bet I'll be okay once I get used to seeing stuff sometimes too."
Maybe. He sounds a little uneasy, unsure -- but it's gone a couple seconds later as he brightens a fraction.
"Hey, it's great that your dad's here too, though. I didn't really know mine, he died when I was little, but if he was here I'd ask him about all sorts of things. What's yours look like? Maybe I met him already."
"You might have. He's not my father by birth, but...we met before we arrived here, and we grew close as we got to know each other. Close enough that I'd call him such, more than the one whose blood is in my veins. I'm lucky to have met him at all, and even luckier that he came here - though I didn't know for quite some time. We kept missing each other, until I got a message to track him down in Paradesium."
She laughs a little as they continue on their path. It won't be too long now until Radar's home.
"He looks a little different to everyone, it seems, so I'm not sure how you'll exactly see him. But if he's near when you're around, I'll introduce you."
Ah, the difficulties of pinning down one appearance for the Madgod.
Like Colonel Blake, he almost says. Which doesn't feel quite right, because Radar's got no idea how close he and his real dad might've been. Maybe he wouldn't've been like Colonel Blake at all; maybe Colonel Blake wouldn't've been anything like him. Still, he knows a little what it's like to think of somebody like they're your dad, even if they're not really.
It feels like a hook has caught in his mood and dragged it back a few more steps. Still happy for Fever, but a little sad for himself, too. Wondering if either of them -- Mr. O'Reilly or Colonel Blake -- will ever turn up here.
"I'm real glad you found him. I definitely wanna meet him sometime, yeah. Maybe he'll come say hi to you while we're both at work, huh?"
They turn down the last block toward Briar Road. Radar squints, trying to figure out if the latest blur in front of him is familiar or not.
"He definitely will. Especially if I nudge him and drop a hint about the right time to come by - he likes surprises a lot, so you'll be welcome."
It still tickles her that she can just ask, and Sheogorath would be there. Because he wants to, because she's asking him. It's a luxury, really, is how it feels. But likewise, all he would have to do is ask, and she would be rushing to his side.
"This one should be yours. Here, through the gate...do you have your key, or do we need to improvise?"
"I've got it somewhere." Once they're through the gate, and up the steps, he lets go of Fever's arm to start patting down his pockets. "...I think."
If he woke up with his sending stone still in his pocket, he definitely must still have his -- ah-HAH, there it is! He unearths it and runs his hand over the doorknob to feel for the keyhole.
Before he unlocks his door, though, he turns to Fever. "Thanks for taking me all the way home, Miss Fever. And hey, um -- " He visibly hesitates, then blurts out, "Don't feel bad about outweighing me on those scales, okay? I've barely done anything, I bet anybody on the whole island would outweigh me."
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So he just goes back to his seat and curls up again to not-watch the scenery.
It's a long ride. Even with a search for his missing glasses thrown in, he's got plenty of time to think, plus a little extra to try and pull himself all the way together before he meets up with Fever. He... doesn't quite manage it. When Radar steps off the train, blinking owlishly up and down the platform to figure out if any of the fuzzy blobs milling around are Fever, he still looks a bit shellshocked.
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Fortunately, she sees him, and calls out before she comes over. Wow, he really looks lost - and so different without his glasses.
"No luck, huh. None on my end either. Guess we'll have to get them replaced."
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"Hey Miss Fever. No luck," he confirms glumly. "You think the eye doctor's still open today?"
Normally he'd know that kind of thing right off the top of his head, but his sense of time's all scrambled.
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She pauses, and there's a murmured here before her touch brushes his arm lightly. An offer of a guide, but not a presumption. Such she had learned with Arthur, that one warned and offered but did not forcibly direct unless it was something like yanking him physically out of harm's way.
"...Don't worry. I won't walk too fast."
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He makes an aborted gesture toward the bridge of his nose, like he's trying to adjust his glasses before remembering they're not there. The train chugs away, so loud it takes Radar a couple seconds to reorient himself.
"I think I just wanna go home. I gotta check on Tiger Junior and Treble, I tried to when I was, um..." He swallows. "Anyway they couldn't see me. Or hear me, neither. So I gotta let 'em know I'm okay."
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She loops her arm through his for properly escorting, and will head in the closest direction to what he indicates. Her sense of direction isn't perfect, but it shouldn't be that hard, right?
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Radar falls silent for a beat.
"...Sorry I ran off and left you behind, ma'am."
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"Actually, I was glad you ran, Radar. If you hadn't, I would have told you to. Get out, get yourself to safety."
Even if that safety was a lie for them both.
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He hesitates.
A little smaller, "How'd you get out?"
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"...It cut me down, in the end. Neither magic nor weapon could do anything to it. I couldn't stop it - and then I was in an empty room, with a door that led out to the festival. I don't...really know what was supposed to happen afterwards. Maybe I broke it, somehow."
Or maybe, terrifyingly, being cut down was the answer. She doesn't know.
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Oh, he was hoping that wasn't what happened. Now he feels even worse about running. Not like he could've stopped the skeleton, either, but at least Fever wouldn't've had to try alone.
"...You sure you're doing okay? I mean even before that, when we were in that room with the scales -- " He hesitates. "You didn't look so good. Especially when the whole place changed for a second."
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It's sidestepping the real question, but what is she supposed to do, turn around and say that such a room only reminded her of what kind of a person she is? If she even gets to use that word, at present. No, no, she has to seek refuge in another direction.
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It had felt a little like hearing the choppers. Just -- stronger. He's not used to seeing stuff instead of just hearing it, though; he doesn't know what he can file away as I wasn't supposed to see that, like he absentmindedly does whenever he hears things it turns out nobody said out loud.
(He never realized how often he did that until he met Brownyn. Maybe he oughta see if he can talk to them again.)
Someone comes up the street in the opposite direction, close enough that they're in danger of shoulder-checking Radar. Without looking up, and barely thinking about it besides a tiny tilt of his head, he sidesteps them.
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"What did you see, Radar?"
The regret is already setting in.
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He hesitates.
"And you just looked real sad, that's all."
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She means to be stoic. But there's a wistfulness in her tone that comes when some people talk about home, and seeing them again - why couldn't it have been her, blessed with such a vision?
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It's a little terrifying. He's got that same half-scared half-exhilarated swoop in his stomach as when Bronwyn told him what they were; what he was. Realizing there really is a whole new layer of stuff to the world that most people can't see, but he might be able to sometimes... oh, boy, it's a lot.
"Yeah, that was them," he says. A bit more tentative, "Are those your friends? Back home?"
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Because if she looked like how she felt, they had to all be asleep. Which meant she was either on watch, or woken from a nightmare, and only one of those is a socially acceptable answer. Gods, she's so close to fleeing to Paradesium, asking the Worm in the depths what she must do to shield her thoughts in such a way that they become harder to grasp, instead of the wearying conscious effort of veiling her mind.
"The rest of them were probably in their tents, but the weather was fair enough to sleep under the stars, mostly." A pause. "You mentioned psychic powers the other day. Is that what this is about?"
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"I think so? I -- gee, I dunno." He heaves a sigh. "It didn't used to feel like this big a deal. Sometimes I just know stuff. Ever since I was little. Or..." How did he put it to Bronwyn? "When I hear something it's like I'm hearing it back here first -- " he touches the back of his head, "-- even before it gets to my ears, or, or I think somebody said something out loud but it turns out they didn't. And that's what Bronwyn said I was. Psychic, like them."
There's that little moth-flutter in his stomach again when he names it. Maybe that's why it feels so much bigger now. His mom and Uncle Ed always told him not to name the animals they planned to sell, because as soon as he did he'd get too attached to let them go. (Naturally, Radar did anyway, and naturally, he got way too attached to them.) When you name something, it's not just a thing anymore. It's real.
"But I never really saw stuff like I did in there before. Mostly I always just heard it. I woulda completely thought it was just that lady with the scales messing with me if it hadn't kinda felt like the choppers coming, too."
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She'll refrain from mentioning her own psychic forays - no need to worry him that he might have been changed in his youth. Highly unlikely. He's probably just got a gift, especially since she's looked at his eyes and noticed nothing amiss.
"...if it ever becomes dangerous, though - if things are coming through that you don't want to hear, and you feel it's unmanageable, you can reach out and talk to my father. He can help you find a way to shield yourself from what's harmful."
There's a plain and honest warmth when she says that. She's said that word aloud again. And the world still didn't collapse, even though it was spoken out of privacy, to someone else. Later, Fever'll have to tell him.
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Maybe. He sounds a little uneasy, unsure -- but it's gone a couple seconds later as he brightens a fraction.
"Hey, it's great that your dad's here too, though. I didn't really know mine, he died when I was little, but if he was here I'd ask him about all sorts of things. What's yours look like? Maybe I met him already."
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She laughs a little as they continue on their path. It won't be too long now until Radar's home.
"He looks a little different to everyone, it seems, so I'm not sure how you'll exactly see him. But if he's near when you're around, I'll introduce you."
Ah, the difficulties of pinning down one appearance for the Madgod.
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Like Colonel Blake, he almost says. Which doesn't feel quite right, because Radar's got no idea how close he and his real dad might've been. Maybe he wouldn't've been like Colonel Blake at all; maybe Colonel Blake wouldn't've been anything like him. Still, he knows a little what it's like to think of somebody like they're your dad, even if they're not really.
It feels like a hook has caught in his mood and dragged it back a few more steps. Still happy for Fever, but a little sad for himself, too. Wondering if either of them -- Mr. O'Reilly or Colonel Blake -- will ever turn up here.
"I'm real glad you found him. I definitely wanna meet him sometime, yeah. Maybe he'll come say hi to you while we're both at work, huh?"
They turn down the last block toward Briar Road. Radar squints, trying to figure out if the latest blur in front of him is familiar or not.
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It still tickles her that she can just ask, and Sheogorath would be there. Because he wants to, because she's asking him. It's a luxury, really, is how it feels. But likewise, all he would have to do is ask, and she would be rushing to his side.
"This one should be yours. Here, through the gate...do you have your key, or do we need to improvise?"
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If he woke up with his sending stone still in his pocket, he definitely must still have his -- ah-HAH, there it is! He unearths it and runs his hand over the doorknob to feel for the keyhole.
Before he unlocks his door, though, he turns to Fever. "Thanks for taking me all the way home, Miss Fever. And hey, um -- " He visibly hesitates, then blurts out, "Don't feel bad about outweighing me on those scales, okay? I've barely done anything, I bet anybody on the whole island would outweigh me."
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