Anyways Riz Is So The Fucked Up Little Guy - Tumblr Posts
A little comfort continuation of my riz đcharacter study (aftermath w/ jawbone to the rescue!! hes such a dad đș)
Riz meant to go back inside. He did. He was going to heave himself up and amble back in, wedging himself between Fabian and Fig (if they hadnât already filled his space with their flailing limbs in the short time heâd been out).
He was going to do it. Just as soon as he swallowed the lump in his throat. Just as soon as he got a handle on things.
It canât have been longer than twenty minutes after Pok hung up when the door behind him creaks open. Shit. He thought he had more time. Riz swallows and blinks frantically as if that will somehow cover the puffiness to his eyes, the tear tracks that- despite excessive scrubbing- wonât completely go away.
 âRiz.â Itâs Jawbone. Thereâs relief in his voice, but something else too. A yawning kind of drowsiness. Riz takes a deep breath, ignoring the sinking ball of guilt in his gut.
âHey, Jawbone, sorry. Did I wake you up?â He almost surprises himself with the calmness in his voice, but is glad of it, nonetheless. What an inconvenient time to find out he actually can lie convincingly. Â Â
The door creaks again and thereâs a sharp click in the silence of the night as Jawbone shuts the door behind him. There are a few moments of scuffling before a weight settles over Rizâs shoulders- warm, fluffy- and Jawbone sits next to him on the steps.
Riz looks down to find that heâs been wrapped in a blanket, one of the nice ones from the linen closet. Had Jawbone known he was out here? How much had he seen? Did he hear anything?
Riz pulls the blanket tighter against himself, suddenly aware of how cold he is.
âThanks.â He mutters. Jawbone hums and turns to look at him.
âCourse. Saw you shivering, didnât want you to catch a cold or nothinâ.â Maybe this is something to do with guidance counselors, or faculty at Auguefort in general, but Jawboneâs gaze is piercing. Riz feels at once flayed open and carefully examined.
He coughs, curling further into himself.
âI can go back in now. Was going to, in a second, butâŠâ He canât finish the thought, everything that comes to mind is either childish or worrying, neither of which he wants to be in front of Jawbone. He swallows thickly.
Jawbone leans into the railing behind him, getting comfortable. âThereâs no rush, Riz. I mean, I do think you need to sleep at some point tonight, but that can wait a little. At least until your tail stops swishinâ like that.â Riz immediately tucks the thing under one of his legs, embarrassed at being betrayed by his own biology. His face burns.
âIâm fine. Youâre right, I need to get some sleep before the exam tomorrow, or Iâll be totally useless to the party.â He doesnât turn to look at Jawbone as he speaks, simply stares resolutely at some of the loose brick in front of him.
âNow I didnât say that last part, kiddo. You need to sleep âcuz it looks like you havenât gotten a proper eight hours in a while, and I can see it weighing on your shoulders with the rest of it.â Jawbone says, gently. Riz bristles, almost wants to hiss at him. What does he know about what Riz carries on his shoulders?
âI said Iâm fine, Jawbone.â He grits, standing. âI should go.â Jawbone curses.
âWait. Please.â Riz pauses, finally meeting his eyes. Theyâre as sharp as ever, but soft, too. If that makes any sense. Jawbone continues, âIt kills me seeinâ you like this kiddo. I feel like a broken record sayinâ this, but I really do mean it, Iâm always here to talk if you need to. Or, even if you donât want to talk I just- it just seems like you could use somebody, is all.â
Riz feels like heâs glitching. His mind is screaming at him to keep walking, to get back in the house, lay down, and close his eyes tight until the sleep takes. But heâs so warm. And he kind of wants to cry again and Jawbone would give him a hug, probably, if he asked for it. Right?
At war with himself, all he manages to do is freeze in his tracks and utter an intelligent, âUm.â
Jawbone smiles and pats the stone next to him.
âCome on. You donât gotta say anything, but at least sit down. And- oh, here,â He reaches into one of his cardiganâs pockets and produces a small mini chocolate bar. âA little pick-me-up.â
Riz settles gingerly next to him, closer than before but not close enough to touch. He reaches over and takes the chocolate, movements slow as he raises his eyebrows.
Jawbone shrugs. âI always keep a few on me, just in case. Never know when you might need âem.â
Riz smiles, small and to himself, for the first time in what feels like hours. Jawbone grins back.
âThere he is. If you want another, just ask, I should have one or two more on me.â
Then itâs silent for a good, long while. Riz stares into the pitch black that pushes up against the safe halo of light surrounding the house as he chews on silky chocolate. He canât help but replay the conversation with his father over and over again in his mind. Jawboneâs head is tilted to the stars.
For all he knows- for all Riz ever knows- that could be the last conversation he is able to have with Pok until he dies again. The watch is what allows them to talk across planes and it, like everything else Riz is and owns, is breakable. Itâs unlikely that the watch will break tomorrow (Riz is a ranged fighter, he never gets close if he can help it, nothing should get near enough to him to get to itâŠ), but not impossible. Never impossible.
Something warm and wet drips down his chin and onto his fist, where its clenched around the blanket. Riz brings his other hand to swipe at his eyes. Fuck. He shouldnât be crying like this. He thought he was cried-out.
Jawboneâs voice rings out from beside him, tender, âKiddo.â
Riz shakes his head, curling further into the blanket as if the fabric might protect him from this mortifying situation.
âSorry.â He mumbles. âI thought I was done with this part.â
Itâs quiet for a moment.
âItâs okay to need to cry, Riz. Definitely nothing you need to apologize for.â
Riz shivers, somehow cold again, even with the blanket. He wants to burrow into Jawboneâs chest, to cling like he used to, to his mom before he grew out of it and became a man (he was so young, then; he shouldâve given it more time, he couldâve given it more time). He doesnât want to ask, though.
Doesnât know if he can ask.
Jawbone looks down at him- shivering, hunched underneath a thin cotton blanket- and he must see something that Riz doesnât mean to betray because his breath catches, and he does the asking for him.
âCan I hug ya, kid?â
Riz nods once, sharply, as soon as the words are in the air. Jawbone reaches out and gathers him up in his arms. Pressing him firmly, but gently, against his chest. Riz buries his face into his cardigan and allows himself a minute of foolishness.
He hiccups.
âI miss my dad, Jawbone. I wish he wasnât dead.â His voice breaks on the last word, all he gets out is the âdeâ, and he leaves the rest to hang in the air with his sobs.
Jawboneâs hand comes up to rub lightly over his back. He doesnât say anything, just allows Riz to cycle through his emotions.
âItâs not fair. Itâs not fair that heâs gone and me and mom just have to deal with it.â Riz takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.
âSometimes⊠I know itâs stupid and illogical, but sometimes I get mad at him. I get so furious with him. Because heâs not here. He didnât do what he needed to do to be here for his son. And I know thatâs wrong and he couldnât help it and if he could choose to be here, he would, but it doesnât stop the anger. I donât like it. But I donât know what to do with it because itâs not fixable. I canât put it anywhere, so I just push it down and hope it goes away, eventually. It never goes away.â
Jawbone hums, and Riz can feel the vibration of it against his cheek. It reminds him of a cat purring, almost. If the cat smelled like dog.
âItâs okay to feel upset that your father was taken from you before you got the chance to know him. Thatâs not stupid or illogical. Iâm sure he beats himself up about it just as much, if heâs anything like his son.â
Riz, despite himself, laughs.
âItâs nice getting to know him now.â He sniffs. âItâs just- I feel like Iâm playing a game of catch-up every time we talk. Like Iâm late to the race. Most kids know what their dads do for work before high school.â
âBut itâs not a race, Riz.â Jawboneâs voice is low, but vehement. âNo one is judging you for not knowing these things about your father, because you thought he was unreachable up until a year ago. The fact that youâre taking every opportunity to learn about him, that you spent so much time- even before you knew what he did for work- visiting his grave and updating him about your life, and still do, sometimes. Itâs a testament to how much you love him. I think he knows that.â
The silence following those words stays for another minute or so before Riz huffs.
âBut I donât love him enough to bring him back, huh. Thereâs magic in any strong emotion, Kristin told me that, once. And I just started messing with magic stuff, but you would think that it wouldnât be impossible. Not if the love was strong enough.â
Jawbone sighs, brings a hand to Rizâs hair and begins to card through it, almost absentmindedly. Riz freezes, then melts into it. Itâs been so long since anybody played with his hair like this. His mom used to do it, when he was younger, but then the bills got higher, her shifts got longer. It fell to the bottom of the priorities list.
âYou canât do that to yourself, kid. You canât. You think if Ms. Barkrock wanted it enough, was rageful enough, she coulda expelled the demon from her chest earlier?â
Riz shakes his head, slightly, afraid to dislodge jawboneâs hand. âOf course not. But thatâs different-â
âNot really.â Jawbone cuts in, gently. âPoint is, magic donât work like that. Emotions are a factor, yes, but thereâs so much else that goes into it. You love your dad so much, Riz, anyone can see that.â
Riz sniffles. âThanks, Jawbone.â
Jawbone smiles where Riz canât see, and ruffles his hair before allowing him to pull away.
âAnytime, kiddo.â